7 - NAZÁR
7
NAZáR
“Y ou should at least consider it, Nazár.”
Shaking my head, I fork the Parmesan-garlic-encrusted asparagus tip and place it in my mouth. Chewing slowly, I watch Leona across the table as she traces the rim of her wineglass with her fingertip. She looks up at me and tilts her head.
“It’s been a long time since you’ve had a suitable companion. Someone who complements you well. I gave her the tour, and she seemed a bit standoffish until I took her to Studio BoDSMe. Her interest was piqued by what we offered there. She said she hasn’t indulged in it, but she might be interested with the right partner.”
I can feel her gaze on me as I cut my steak and take another bite.
“Well?”
Staring at her, I stop chewing. She knows better than to push me or pressure me. She lowers her gaze briefly, and I finish chewing.
“You’re a bit talkative tonight.”
“I’m sorry, it’s just that . . . She’s perfect for you, Nazár. She’s a beautiful, intelligent woman who, while she may be comfortable in her sexuality, seems to be looking for something more. Something I’m well aware that you can provide for her.”
Leona and I had a brief fling three years back, and while it worked for me, it didn’t work for her. She eventually wanted more, and I had nothing more to offer. She’s engaged to a man who is more her speed now, and I’m happy to have her as my assistant and nothing more.
“You have no right to speak out of turn, Leona. Not about something like that.”
She lowers her gaze to her plate and begins eating her food before looking at me again.
“I think I’m well within my right. I know your appetite better than anyone else, Nazár.”
I push away my plate.
“I have a meeting in Switzerland next month. Have you made the travel arrangements for that?” I ask, changing the subject.
“I have. Everything is in place, including your special requests. Shantel Graf has cleared her schedule to entertain you for your visit.”
Shantel is a casual acquaintance with whom I indulge in a few nights of pleasure whenever I’m in that area of the world.
“That will work,” I say with a nod as I remove my linen napkin from my lap and wipe my mouth before placing it on the table.
Niles, my house attendant, comes to the table, instantly removes my dinnerware, and looks at Leona.
“I’m finished, Niles. Thanks.”
“What’s my schedule for the day after tomorrow?”
“You have an early-morning flight at six thirty to attend the nine o’clock meeting in Madagascar. So, when you arrive, it will be—”
“Seven thirty their time. I know they’re an hour behind us.”
“Right. So, you’re scheduled to be served breakfast in-flight. When you land, a car will take you to the conference center, but you will have time to review your notes and the agenda before the meeting.”
“My return?”
“Is scheduled for three our time. After your meeting, they set you up to tour the property. On your return home, you have a vineyard tour scheduled for five in the evening.”
“Move that to tomorrow morning.”
“But, sir, you have a—”
“Move it to tomorrow, Leona! Cancel the meeting with Palmer and Trope. I won’t be buying their property after all. Schedule my vineyard tour for the time of my meeting with them. I’ll take a lunch break and then do the distillery tour later that afternoon around three.”
I look at Leona as she quickly jots down my notes and then excuses herself to place the phone calls she needs to make.
I push back from my chair, step out onto the lanai, and sit on the chaise. Every evening at ten minutes to five, I come out on my lanai to watch the sun set over the ocean.
Lush palm trees, giant fig trees, and ochrosia borbonica, an endangered plant on the island, all grow in abundant supply on my property.
“Your drink, sir,” Amara says, setting my glass of spiced rum on the little table beside me.
“Thank you, Amara.”
“You’re welcome, sir. Will there be anything else?” she asks politely.
“No, Amara.”
She walks away with her hips swishing provocatively. I wonder again, not for the first time, about my sanity. Women, guests, and staff alike have often propositioned me for a night of pleasure, but I don’t indulge. It’s not that I don’t want to because there are more than a few women whose sexuality and attraction are beyond tempting.
I choose not to indulge because I don’t need the complications that broken hearts and messy affairs lead to. My reputation, net worth, and financial holdings don’t allow for those impediments on my resort. I have brief affairs with women who have never visited my resort.
It’s been awhile since I’ve had sex, though I don’t know why I bother to hold off. This place is a sexual den with all we offer. Waiting another month for sex won’t kill me, but I swear it’s making me grouchy and on the verge of losing control.
Turning my attention beyond the lush setting of my backyard, I watch as the sun slowly sinks over the horizon, sending a brilliant display of orange, red, yellow, pinks, and purples radiating across the sky.
My thoughts return to dinner and Leona’s suggestion that I meet one of our guests, a vineyard owner from California. She says the woman is signed up for our rum distillery and vineyard tours. I do recall receiving an email from Camila Martinez stating that she was interested in expanding her operations and was touring various resorts around the globe.
Camila Martinez’s interest in my operations would have been largely ignored had it not been for a mutual friend, Dale Weatherall. He and his wife, Yvonne, said Camila Martinez would benefit from visiting the resort.
They expressed that she had a beautiful and successful vineyard. Although it was thriving, it could be more profitable with expansion, and she could learn a lot from me. They’d also said that while she was a hard worker, she needed an extraordinary vacation to remove her stress.
My guests are hand selected and receive invitations at the behest of past guests who suggest them to me. Guests who are inclined to be discreet and who have a palate for the offerings we extend receive invitations to visit the resort after a thorough background check. I had accepted Camila as one of the few guests I allowed to visit the resort.
After the sun sets, I decide to stroll around the property. It’s not often that I engage with my guests, but I will walk around once a week to greet a few familiar acquaintances and to see if there’s anything that I want to indulge my appetite in.
Belle Baie was created to share the beauty of this stretch of the island in Mauritius with those who want to escape the real world for a while and indulge in sexual activities that cater to their needs without the fear of recrimination.
We offer twenty suites and twenty-five guestrooms, with world-class romantic dining. Guests can choose from various activities such as sailing, horseback riding, scuba diving, hiking, biking, private sailing, kite surfing, paddle boarding, snorkeling, and windsurfing.
Unlike many resorts, we also have a vineyard and rum distillery, offering tours and wine tastings. My rum distillery is my pride and joy, and I offer personal tours of that, along with the vineyard sometimes.
Although construction began on the resort six years ago, a tragedy set me back by a year. When loneliness and depression set in, I refocused my attention on my original mission and proceeded to open the resort four years ago. It was a success right away but for the wrong reasons. It took me less than six months to restrict the guests to those I chose.
Four months later, I expanded the resort’s services after a rousing conversation with a few like-minded guests who wanted to experience a genuinely adult-only resort. Our beach is a private one, which allowed me to change it to a nudist beach. Not that people must go nude, but guests prefer that option.
Along with the nude beach, we opened an entire facility dedicated to BDSM or kink. While I’ve found that many couples enjoy engaging in it, many single women don’t seem interested because they have an incorrect concept. The few single women who have visited and are interested are Dommes.
I have not found the perfect submissive, not only on the island but also even in my travels. Not that they’re not submissive, but there’s no genuine connection with me. No one wants the pain I have to offer, nor can they endure the deep-seated emotions that I sometimes experience, which causes me to be reserved.
“Nazár, come and have a drink,” I hear a familiar voice say.
Turning around, I see Jason Cunningham, senator of the great state of Georgia. He holds his glass aloft, and I see the Mexican woman sitting beside him, curling under his arm. It’s not his wife, that’s for sure, but that’s none of my business.
She often accompanies him here, but I’ve never formally met her.
I head over to the outdoor tiki bar and sit beside him.
“Liliana, this is Nazár, the owner of the resort. Nazár, this is my longtime friend, Liliana,” Jason says, turning back to the woman and smiling at her.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Liliana.”
“Please, call me Lily. What a wonderful resort you have here, and I love the offerings,” she says.
“Thank you. I hope you enjoy the duration of your stay,” I say, turning to the bartender, who offers me a fresh glass of rum.
“What’s next on your ventures?” Jason asks.
“I have to tour a property in the morning in Madagascar, but there’s not a lot planned right now.”
“I have a piece of property in Georgia that I’ve been eyeing for some time. I’d like you to come and look at it. Let me run some ideas by you about what I’d like to do, and then give me your thoughts, okay?”
“How about this? You send me the specs for the land, an aerial video, and your ideas for developing the property, and then I’ll decide if I should come and check it out.”
Jason smirks, tosses down his drink, and slowly shakes his head.
“It’s hard getting this one onboard with any project,” Jason says.
“Not true. I just want to ensure it will make money before investing.”
“You think coming to the States to look at the property is a waste?”
“Could be. Jason, you’re greedy for gain. You remember that property the last time you showed me in Alabama surrounded by obscure swampland?”
Jason chuckles, and I finish my drink, setting it on the bar top.
Squeezing his shoulder, I say, “Send me everything I need, and we’ll go from there.”
He holds up his glass and says, “You got it, man.”
I head further down the beach and loop around through the gardens and the cottages on that side of the resort. By the time I’ve come to the end of the walking path that courses through the cottages, I’m facing the hotel of my resort, and I stop for a moment to gaze up at the beautiful stucco building.
A woman steps out onto a balcony on the fifth floor, leaving the door open. She grips the railing and holds her head back, the wind tossing her curls around her. She pushes her hair away from her face but doesn’t open her eyes.
The breeze picks up more, plastering the sheer blue nightgown against her body. I see nude bodies around my resort daily, but she’s the first one in a long time that’s intrigued me completely.
The light in the room behind her casts an angelic glow about her face and body. She has a handful of small breasts that are erect and tipping upward as if sending a kiss to the moon and stars, broad hips, a slim waistline, and curvy but toned thighs. I can see a darker outline at the apex of her thighs, making me wonder what she tastes like.
I can’t help but stare at her even when she lowers her head and opens her eyes. They scan the grounds briefly before they land on me.
I’m leaning against a palm tree with my hands stuffed in my pockets, watching her like some damn stalker. She doesn’t allow that to deter her, though. If anything, she steps closer to the railing, pressing her body against it, and stares back at me, almost challenging me. To what? I don’t know.
A small smile tilts her lips. She waves, and just like that, she’s returned to her room with swishing hips and jiggling ass. The door shuts, the curtains close, and the lights go off. Fuck!
I walk off into the night, heading home again to be alone with my thoughts. It’s not easy being wealthy, private, and cautious. It leads to a very lonely existence.
I can only hope that I’ll sleep a dreamless sleep tonight. If not, I’ll be teased by thoughts of the temptress and stroking my cock alone.
I have to find out who the woman in room five-thirty-one is.