Chapter 35
Gen
‘And he just looked at you? The whole time you were coming?’ Belle asks.
‘Both times. And he wasn’t just looking at me, he was also making his EA blow him and then letting her hump his leg, and calling out instructions to the other guys and generally being a revoltingly dominant, sexy, multi-tasking motherfucker.’
I grimace and take a generous slug of rosé from a glass filled with wine and large ice cubes. The French call it une piscine—a swimming pool. I suppose it doesn’t hurt to get in the mood for the South of France.
‘Jesus Christ.’ Maddy crosses her legs and squeezes her thighs together. ‘That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard. Like, even hotter than him actually fucking you. It’s so repressed.’
They’re an excellent audience; I’ll give them that. They look positively titillated. I knew they wouldn’t judge me. On the contrary, I knew they’d go crazy, in a good way, for what went down last night.
Pun intended.
‘Believe me, no one in that room was repressed,’ I say drily.
‘I know, but him holding back on touching you like you asked but then eye-fucking you and pulling all the strings.’ She shifts on her bar stool. ‘I’d say that’s very fucking hot.’
Sadly, I have to agree with her. I’ve never done anything quite like that—never had a guy call the shots like that when he’s not the person I’m actually fucking.
And I’ve definitely never had the kind of sexual and emotional and physical intensity with a bystander of a sexual act like that.
The whole thing was a total headfuck. Twenty-four hours later, I’m still reeling.
Maddy, Belle and I are in the Red Room at the Connaught Hotel, a bar that’s far less Fifty Shades than its name suggests.
We’re treating ourselves to a drink, a catch up, and some decadent bar snacks before we go across the road to Matches Fashion’s gorgeous townhouse for an emergency pre-Cannes personal shopping appointment, at Maddy’s insistence.
She also insisted on bringing Belle along, so I don’t end up with a selection that’s too slutty (her words). Belle has a very different body shape than me—she’s incredibly slender—but our taste in clothes is probably more similar than mine and Maddy’s.
They also perfectly represent the two sides of my character.
When I first interviewed Belle for our Unfurl programme, I saw myself in her.
She was far less sexually experienced than I was at her age, but I recognised in her circumspect, guilt-ridden attitude to sex the same demons I’d grappled with.
I’m happy to say we’re both far more liberated these days.
And, although she’s in a monogamous and sickeningly happy relationship with Rafe, I see enough of them at the club to know they’re in no way boring.
Maddy, on the other hand, is totally shameless, and I mean that as a massive compliment to her.
It’s not something I see that much in women, even among our clients.
In my experience, it’s difficult for women to be shame-free about their sexuality in a way that’s not complicated or darkened by any experiences they may have had. And Maddy, to her full credit, is.
Let’s just say Zach is a lucky guy.
In some ways, Maddy’s my hero. Even at the tender age of twenty-three—fuck, these two are young—she represents the ideal.
The gold standard for which I consciously strive.
That’s why events like last night are turning points for me.
They’re my way of proving to myself that I can throw off all those layers of shame and etiquette and social conditioning and pursue my fantasies, no matter how far-fetched.
And fucking Anton Wolff’s colleagues on the floor of his office while he art-directed was pretty far-fetched.
I’m munching on some outrageously good truffled aranchini when Maddy puts her glass down. ‘So I have a question for you, and you’re not going to like it, so don’t go all scary on me, okay?’
‘I’m not scary,’ I protest when I’ve swallowed.
They both snort. ‘Please,’ Maddy says. ‘You’re fucking terrifying. Like, if Elsa from Frozen was a headmistress.’
I smirk. I rather like that analogy, actually. I’m glad the froideur I cultivate works. ‘And your point is?’ I ask haughtily.
‘Right. I hate to say it, but Anton seems pretty perfect for you,’ she says with a flick of her hair. She wiggles her eyebrows at me. ‘So, honestly, I don’t know what you’re playing at.’
I frown. ‘That’s ridiculous. The man’s a bloody nightmare.’
They exchange a pointed glance. ‘We don’t know him, really, but it sounds like he’s behaved pretty well so far,’ Belle says gently.
‘Well? He ambushed me into being spit-roasted in his office, for Christ’s sake!’ I say, lowering my voice, because this is really not the stuff polite chit-chat is made of.
Maddy’s mouth twists in amusement. ‘Poor little Gen, corrupted by the Big Bad Wolff. Sounds to me like you got pretty stuck in.’
I glare at her and take a large swig from my piscine.
‘Seriously, though,’ she continues. ‘I mean, he may have played a bit fast and loose with your rules, but he didn’t technically break them, did he? You’ve told him not to touch you, and he hasn’t.’
‘He just watched you. A lot,’ Belle chimes in unhelpfully, a gleeful grin on her far-too-pretty face.
‘He’s good with boundaries,’ Maddy sing-songs. She’s boundary-obsessed, and I don’t like how valid her points are.
‘Oh Jesus,’ I groan with an eye-roll. ‘Please don’t give me your boundary spiel again.’
‘It’s important,’ she says. She picks her glass up and drinks before waggling a finger at me. ‘And, you know, it sounds like every single thing he’s done has been to get your attention. And I think that’s very sweet.’
I don’t think anyone in their right mind could call Anton Wolff sweet,’ I say through gritted teeth.
‘I think he’s really hot, though,’ Belle says.
‘Like, seriously fucking hot,’ Maddy agrees.
‘He’s a total daddy. That’s the other thing.
’ She turns to me, finger now jabbing the air.
‘You’re always complaining that guys are either total animals who are completely socially unacceptable, or they’re lovely, decent, smart guys who are totally fucking boring in bed.
‘I hate to tell you, babes, but he’s the real deal. He’s, like, a proper grownup. That’s exactly what you need.’
‘Ooh, yeah,’ Belle coos, and I’m reminded why I shouldn’t hang out with women this young.
‘Right?’ Maddy asks. ‘He’s a billionaire, which is hot for a million reasons, but mainly for competence kink reasons, which I know you have in spades, my dearest, beautiful Gen.
The guy’s a fucking legend, and he wants you.
He couldn’t make it clearer. He’s successful, he’s gorgeous, he’s a sexual predator but in a totally amazing way, and he wants to blow your mind.
’ She sits back and crosses her legs prettily.
‘So for the love of God, woman, tell me what the fuck your problem is.’