Page 15 of XX Love Affair

It wasn’t often that Delia was stricken with a desire to smoke. Since quitting shortly after grad school, she had moved on to occasionally vaping, but for the most part, considered those vices behind her. Yet here she was, jonesing for a cigarette that she didn’t have in her bag. The best she could do was a wintergreen mint exploding in her mouth the moment she popped it in.

Yet when Helena sauntered over and sat down where Tiffani had been only a minute before, Delia wanted a smoke. She could insert a witty joke about the “smoke show” in front of her, but refrained, if only because she refused to be so damn cringe.

So she said that instead.

“Do you like it?” Helena knew how to sit in a chair. Had Delia ever thought that about a woman before? Who the hell doesn’t know how to sit in a stupid chair? Yet Helena did it with such purposeful grace that Delia couldn’t look away. From her leggings to her T-shirt dress, she was a self-made rockstar who entered any room and got everyone’s attention. It may not have been the most positive kind of attention, but Helena drank that up too, didn’t she? “I could take it off for you if you want.”

Delia leaned across the table, lowering her voice. “What do you want? Hopefully, you’re not stepping out on that lovely lady you were with.”

“Who, Petra? That was a job interview, not a date.”

“Employed now, are we?”

“I’m going to be in town a few months. Got a roommate situation lined up so I have a cheaper place to stay. You know, through the spring. Seemed like the thing to do.”

“Uh-huh. What’s that got to do with me?”

A charming smile told Delia everything she needed to know before Helena spoke again. “I had fun the other night in The Dark Hour. Don’t you think it’s fate that we’ve bumped into each other again? It could have been anyone else for me, yet it was you.”

“Number eight. Didn’t bump into seven or three, did you?” Delia allowed a passing waiter to grab her dirty dishes. With more space on the table, she was free to slam down her elbows and dominate the area like she dominated in the bedroom. Because even if she turned down whatever proposal Helena was about to make, she had to establish herself as anything but a pushover. Power bottoms can keep it to the club. In real life, I’m in control. “How about number nine? How lucky have you been since I saw you on Sunday?”

Helena didn’t let the heckling get to her. She instead made herself comfortable in Tiffani’s chair, crossing her arms and sighing hard enough that her humble chest rose and fell with tremendous pomp. “There hasn’t been a number nine. After you, I’ve been very satisfied.”

Great. Ego strokes. This woman wanted something, didn’t she? “I aim to please.”

“You live around here, don’t you?”

“Now, why would I tell you any of my personal information? We hooked up, nothing more. I shouldn’t even be indulging in this conversation.”

“What if I told you that you could have me again? Whenever you want, barring my upcoming work schedule?”

That interview must have gone well. “I would ask what the catch was.”

“No catch. I like being spoiled, but I don’t demand it.”

“You want a sure thing on the weekends.”

“Weeknights too, if you can swing it.”

Come on, I wasn’t born yesterday. A smoking-hot and horny twenty-year-old throwing herself at Delia for the next few months? This was definitely too good to be true. Everything about Helena screamed give me money. If she wasn’t a scammer, then she was a girlfriend for hire. Those were never cheap. They considered orgasms tips, not payment for a good time.

“I’m not looking for a sugar baby,” Delia said. “Sorry. I bet number five could help you.”

Helena glanced up to her right, lost in thought. “Number five was from Colorado. Assuming she wasn’t lying to me.”

“She, huh? Guess I wasn’t that special.”

“Might surprise you to know that I actually like women. In that way.”

Of course you do. Delia didn’t doubt that, but she had already pegged Helena as someone going wild in her youth, and that could mean anything – or anyone – in her past. Delia had gotten entwined in that shit before and wasn’t in the mood to have an ex-boyfriend show up on her doorstep screaming at the top of his lungs. Again.

Again!

“I told you that I’m not looking for a sugar baby.”

“I’m not a sugar baby.”

“Oh? What would set you apart in this situation? Want to be a step lower? A booty call?”