Tabula Rasa. White’s move. Territory of Seduction - Chapter #6 - Free To Read

Max

I'm sure she's watching me. I don't look back. Her "daddy" is watching me, too. I know that a fact. I go straight to the shower, throwing my clothes in a clump on the floor. I stand under the jets of water. The idiocy of the situation is that I got turned on by touching her little finger!

Fuck! Her pinky! I adjust the faucet valves, increasing the flow of cold water.

Aroused by touching my finger?! Bullshit! You can, of course, if you're fifteen years old, when you've never fucked before, but after thirty, the last time you had a good time just two ago... It's clearly the effect of a cocktail of alcohol, Rita's erotic dances and the failure of . Real shit! I cool my head and look down.

- Traitor, - I say to my cock. - You're a real cockney!

Note: Cockney is a disparagingly derisive nickname for a middle to lower class London native;

The cold water soothes my inappropriately heated body.

After getting out of the shower, I turn on my laptop and dump files from the camera's card. There aren't many photos, just a few dozen.

Not enough, I can't get enough pictures of her. She's so young! Not my type at all. Not at all!

What's there to get excited about? She doesn't look more than seventeen or sixteen. Eyes halfway her face. Slim, slender, with small, but seductively protruding breasts. I'm looking at the . There she is in motion. They're polished, graceful. I'll have to find out tomorrow if she dancing lessons. Through her thin afghani, which hangs loosely on her hips, a slender long leg through. One of the pictures shows her with her mouth open, and I stare at it. How nice it be to get my tongue in that mouth. I bet she's hot in bed. And that lanky macho man who's enough to be her father fucks her at night. My dick's coming back to life. Shit! This is ! I laugh out loud, massage my face with my fingertips, and fall into bed.

Loving the view of the beautiful old cathedral outside my window. I googled it this , it's called Sophia of Kyiv. I close my eyes and try to sleep. The last thing I see is her ear I'm breathing into. I want to get my tongue in that ear too.

The alarm clock jolts me out of sleep at half past ten in the morning. I jump out of bed, and rested, if you don't count the heaviness in my head, pull on my sweatpants and T-shirt, go to the hotel fitness room. Limp Bizkit's "Limp Bizkit" is in my headphones, setting the beat me while I'm on the treadmill. Maxing myself out, pushing the crap out of my head.

After an hour of intense training, my shirt is wrung out, my pants too. Finishing my water the liter bottle. It's a great start to the day. Time to get ready for the press conference.

After a contrast shower, I look in the mirror. Three days' stubble on my face. I'm too lazy to . I'm gonna go casual today.

There will be other participants besides me, so I don't bother to choose a costume. I'm by the remnants of stupidity, which still kicks my subconscious as soon as I think about Polina. My choice is a black sleeveless shirt, a beige linen jacket, pants to match, black loafers.

I eat breakfast, put my tablet, headphones, business cards in a small case, look at my watch - 's time to move out, I have a meeting with Polina in five minutes. I leave the laundry bag by the door. I warn the receptionist that I need clean laundry by the evening, wait while she writes the order, and go outside.

My smartphone is vibrating, it's Polina.

- Hey, Max. Walk just below the hotel, I'm parked in the parking lot, - I said in a businesslike . No huffing. "So you can do that too, Baby?"

I walk downstairs as instructed and freeze when I see her. Thanks for keeping my jaw in . I stopped and looked at her from head to toe.

Polina stands in a careless pose, leaning slightly against the car. She's incredibly beautiful.

Thin as a reed. She's wearing a flesh-colored, scented dress. Accessories, shoes and costume details

- a belt, a rose at the neckline of the dress, a bracelet on her wrist, all in black. Her hair is in a high , with dark nail polish on her nails. Big sunglasses cover half her face. She looks like a model who just happened to be here. I can't see her eyes, but she seems to notice my shock the corners of her mouth twitch into a smile. I walk over to her and kiss her hand.

- Lady, are you really expecting me? - Lifting my head slightly, I stay intimate with her face, . She removes her glasses, looking at me with a slight smile.

- If you like, sir, I can leave you here and leave you to your own devices, - she tries to speak , but her eyes laugh and finally she smiles broadly, adding ironically. - You look good, too.

Today, she's wearing makeup on her face: eyes lined with arrows, bright gloss on her lips.

She smells of Dahlia Noir, a fragrance that excites me.

- Do you like Givenchy? - I'm asking Polina.

- Wow, you know a lot about women's perfume, - she said, not hiding her surprise. - Maybe know the name of the perfume?

I nod:

- It's Black Dahlia. Yeah, I know that perfume.

- It's evening, I know, - her smile faded, and she added in a mundane tone. - It's probably the your girlfriend uses.

- I don't have a girlfriend, - I answer with complete honesty. What am I supposed to say, that the women I prefer to keep in bed smell like Dahlia Noir? I just shrug.

- Okay, let's set up for the press conference, - Polina takes on a businesslike appearance . - I suggest we walk. It's not far.

Indeed, the Intercontinental is right next door. We check in before entering the conference , say hello to those present, exchange quite insignificant comments. Alexandrine approaches , she smiles and compliments our appearance. Well, yes, we are dressed again in tone-on-tone and if from the same boutique.

- Karmic connection, - I answer her, and Polina shoots her eyes in my direction. I smile and her the tip of my tongue-I want her to smile. I don't like her attempt at anger. She doesn't how to get angry. She can smile, though.

The air conditioner is working in the hall, but I still take off my jacket and hang it on the of a chair. Polina, along with the other interpreters, sits in the front row. She glides her gaze my shoulders, my arms. Oh, what a range of feelings. She freezes, blinks helplessly a few , lowers her eyes, then raises her head and looks at me defiantly. I'm pleased with the effect

I've had. One is one.

The press conference is quite lively, and there are many questions, including some addressed me. The event drags on for a quarter of an hour. Afterwards, I am invited to lunch with the owner. It takes place here in the hotel restaurant. As soon as the conference ends, I approach

Polina.

- Max, there's no point in me accompanying you, - she informs me. - Everyone who will be speaks English.

- You're coming with me. I don't see a problem if it's just the two of us. Besides, in an hour a half we have visits to private salons and galleries I'm negotiating with. I want you to have in my company and understand me and my negotiating style a little better. Today you and I a very busy, important day.

- But, in the company of the boss, I'm unlikely to relax, - in Polina's voice sounds doubt.

- I have questions that I can solve on my own. Besides, as far as I understand, there will be a other exhibitors besides us. Let's go, - I took her under my elbow and pushed her toward the room.

We quickly find the restaurant, located on the eleventh floor of the hotel. At the reception we are met by a young man who looks at our badges and addresses me exclusively.

- Mr. Kameron, they're waiting for you, come on in, - he turns his gaze from me to Polina, I can read the incomprehension in it.

- My assistant will be dining with me, - I simply explain to him as I continue to hold her by the elbow.

- But, - he stammered. - They're only waiting for you. We have clear regulations for such .

- I don't see the problem. They're expecting me, and I've arrived, but with my personal . Show me where to go. And take care of the girl's supplies, - I say firmly, with pressure on last sentence.

I can feel Polina's tension seething beside me. Her invisible resistance is felt beneath my , but I hold her firmly by her slender elbow and lead her along.

Victor and his wife are already waiting for us in a separate room reserved for special guests.

There are also other participants here - an artist from South Africa, who also took part in the , and a cult English artist with a very big name, an unfading star of exhibitions. After hello to Victor, I introduce Polina to him, thanking him for his professional assistant and, as matter of course, emphasizing:

- Would you mind if Polina kept us company?

As I suspected, Victor doesn't mind. He even talks to Polina about something, later to me that it turns out that they have mutual acquaintances, and they know each other .

We have a relaxed lunch. We discuss a lot of issues with the owner of the gallery, including future project planned back in London. I am pleased that he remembers it and is interested in it.

He is a pleasure to deal with, because he is as collected as I am.

Polina barely touches her food. Sliding my plate over to her, I hand her my dessert. She at first, but I put my hand over hers defiantly, squeezing it lightly, forcing her to pay to my words:

- We have a visit to a potential client, and I need you to be ready. It's going to be a tough , and I'm guessing more than one. Reinvigorate. We'll be done soon.

The moment we exchange a glance, an invisible thread stretches between us. It's like a flash.

She just stares into my eyes, and my heart sinks, even if only once. I haven't experienced something this in a long time. It's like the promise of something forbidden. A wave of sensual anticipation along my spine and spreads inside. I turn away, taking a sip of my wine to keep the confusion of my voice. Automatically answering the neighbor to my right while I mentally try to make of what just happened.

We leave the restaurant first, with very little time left before the upcoming meeting.

- - -

The final negotiations end when the hands on my watch show a quarter past eight.

- I invite you to dinner, - I said to Polina. - Choose a place with simple cuisine, in a that's not crowded. I want to be quiet.

She nods.

- All right, I'll take you to a place where all the foreign visitors go. You'll like it. It's pretty . You'll find the cuisine difficult, - she laughs.

A few minutes later we find ourselves at the place. The name of the restaurant is the word for me, "Cheko-ko-vi-tsa". It is decorated in a national, ethnic style. Polina for both of us; she wants to feed me some authentic food that I haven't tasted, so she orders of the restaurant's hot drinks.

- Tired? - I asked her.

- A little bit. But that's okay. It's a job, not a walk.

- Now we can relax. Are you driving?

- I can leave the car here and we'll call a cab, - Polina suggested. - I have to share the success our negotiations with you. The last few have been very successful, in my opinion.

- Yes, this is something to celebrate! - I agree. We discuss plans for tomorrow and today's results. Gradually, our conversation becomes more and more personal.

- Max, can I ask you a question? A delicate one? - she asks.

- Ask.

- You said today that you don't have a girlfriend. Did you break up recently? - she asks, then , snickering. - There's no way I'm going to believe that you could be non-traditional.

I laugh:

- Traditional orientation, that's true. I'm just in favor of free relationships. Nobody owes anything. That's why no one carries the status of "my girlfriend."

- I mean, in another way it's called promiscuous sexual relations, - Polina summarized, quietly.

I twirl the glass in my fingers.

- What makes you think that? - I scrutinize her face.

- You said yourself you're in an open relationship. It sounds like "today with this one, ..." - she makes a vague wave of her hand.

- Hmm. I don't make promises to anyone, Polina. My woman is the woman who will be my . I'm not ready for a change of status yet. But that doesn't mean that I change sexual partners day, - "and that's the truth, - flashes through my mind. - It's just that all I can promise my is sex.

- Sex and nothing else? - she raises her eyebrows.

- Yeah. Just sex.

- You and your partner don't have joint get-togethers with friends, like joint weekends, ? I don't know, - she hesitates. - Something else... Maybe a trip somewhere on vacation?

- A vacation to have sex on the islands? - I'm being frankly ridiculous. - No problem. It's just anyone who calls themselves a couple, Polina. Only without the commitment. No jealousy, no of fidelity, no stupid talk about love. You know what I mean?

- Quite, - I find her smiling with the corners of her lips.

- Are you having fun? - I'm asking her. I'm amused by her reaction. I think she's laughing at . Polina shakes her head in a negative way.

- No. Pretty rational. Say, what if, uh. Isn't there a chance that your partner. uh, sleep with else, is there a chance? - she looks at me through half-closed eyelashes.

- Hypothetically it's possible, - I can barely contain my laughter.

- Are you so confident that women around you don't notice other men? - I can hear the irony her voice.

- Why is that? If a woman wants another man, I don't hold her back. I don't demand her , remember? But that would probably be the end of our sexual relationship, - I clarified.

- So, what, it's, like, over? Never again?

- "Never say never, - I drop it. - I don't know, maybe... But it's never happened before in my .

- What about you? What about you? - she asks. - After all, you too can... sleep with someone . Since you don't have a commitment. would that be cheating?

I nod:

- Of course you can. Then it's the same way - any relationship is over, - I summarize. - I tell it's over and that's it.

- So something like this has happened before? You met a girl who attracted you more than a partner and you never again... With the old one? - For some reason, she blushes, having her assumption all the way through.

- I've never had more than one mistress at a time, - I answered bluntly. - But I don't jump girl to girl like a hungry male. It must be an incredibly strong attraction... Desire, - I . - For me, having a steady partner, to switch to someone else, even for an incredible . If such a thing were to happen, it would likely be a one-off, with no continuation. It should my head off, at the very least.

- So when you said you don't have a girlfriend, you mean you're not having a sexual right now on principle?

- I didn't promise anyone anything, Polina. That's what I meant. Let's talk about you now.

Did you take dance lessons? - I'm changing the subject. My question takes her by surprise.

- Yes, I did. From early childhood. First classical ballet school, then ballroom dancing, but the age of twelve until now, modern.

Clarification:

- And now?

- Yes, sometimes I go to the classroom for parquet, - she looks at me with interest. -

Unfortunately, I don't have much time. For example, there's a class tomorrow. But... - she spreads hands.

- Maybe you could invite me to the rehearsal? Are you allowed to have guests?

- Okay. I'll think about it, - she said a little confused.

- Tell me, how old is Igor? It's just curiosity, - I said.

- Forty-three, - Polina replies.

- Are you engaged? - My gaze locked on her, watching her reaction, but instead of tension, ironic smile spread across her face.

- No, - she looks at me as directly as I look at her. - Why would you say that?

- He's at the age where men build relationships. Long-term, permanent relationships.

- Oh, in that sense - 'building a relationship', it has taken place a long time ago and many , - now Polina smiles a wide smile. - No, we are not engaged, - she emphasizes the particle

"not".

- You're not ready yet?

- Am I ready for marriage? I'm not sure I'll ever be ready for it in the traditional sense, - she openly now. - Let me explain right away why I'm having so much fun-" Polina covers her . - I profess the same philosophy as you, Max. No commitment, no declarations of love, no . Just sex.

Wow! Did I hear that right?! Tender and vulnerable on the outside, but cynical on the inside?

- You don't believe me? - It's like she's reading my mind. - It's a good thing you don't. Don't it, Max. But it won't affect my position in life. It's all honest - a pleasure exchange, for my , as they say, nothing more.

- And Igor's okay with that? - I can't believe what I'm hearing. She just blew my mind about girls like her. I've been down this road countless times explaining my position to women. But , hearing her, who looked more like an elf from a fairy tale than a real person, take a rational to relationships was more than strange to me. Polina and that kind of attitude are for me. Or is it for the best that she professes the same truths as I do?

- Igor has no choice but to accept my position, or... - Polina's throwing up her hands. - You how it is.

We both laugh, expressing complete understanding.

Dinner is coming to an end, my assistant hails a cab and makes another call. We step out into springtime, warm evening.

- One last question, Polina. So you don't believe in love? - I clarify. Maybe all this bravado just for show?

- I am not capable of it. Therefore, I have no right, it seems to me, to demand it of a man. It not be fair of me. I admit it exists. But not for me. And no one has ever given me an address she can be found, - Polina giggled.

We ride in silence in the cab. There was an absolute lightness between us, as if invisible and barriers had fallen, even if they seemed imaginary. I look at her profile. Polina looks , as if she hasn't had a long, busy day.

The car stops in front of the hotel, Polina turns half-turned to me:

- See you tomorrow?

I stare at her without taking my eyes off her. I examine every feature of her face, her neck, hollow between her small, girlish breasts, visible in the triangular neckline of her dress, and the on her lap. She accepts my scrutiny calmly, without embarrassment or nervousness.

I pulled her to me and pulled her head back, holding her neck with the palm of my hand, her throat lightly. Our faces are very close, her breath touching my lips, a kiss away from half-open ones. Through the fabric of her clothes, I can feel her breasts, her fingers hooked into fabric of my jacket, her slender thigh pressed tightly against mine. Just as abruptly, I release her.

- See you tomorrow, Polin, - I said goodbye and got out of the car. By tradition, I don't look .