4. June
June
D id June understand what she was getting into when she kissed Miquela? Ha! No.
She was all words. All bluster. Everything she was good at being, but also everything that would one day be her downfall.
If her downfall hadn’t already arrived.
What was supposed to be a sweet kiss turned into way too much more within a few seconds. One moment, June was giving her a kiss of understanding, and the next? Her tongue was halfway down Miquela’s throat, and her hands dove for what kept her clothing on her body.
What the hell had happened to her? She never did these things unless money was necessary to square away a relationship.
Miquela was good for every cent she offered.
She would always come back for more, unless she one day grew tired or found herself a real girlfriend to be monogamous with.
That’s how it worked. Every client who ever declared love for her eventually got over her rejection and found someone new and more compatible with their hearts and lives.
Over the past several weeks, two more had stepped forward, citing their great devotion to her.
June didn’t know if it was age or what, but she found herself slowly falling for them as well.
Or at least she thought it was something like love.
When a girl had never really been in love like that before, how did she know that’s what it was?
She knows. She has to know . June never intended to succumb to love early on a Wednesday afternoon, but here she was, losing the battle against her world-shattering emotions.
Was it Miquela? Was it something about her?
Not just how hot and rich she was… but how kind, how compassionate, how devoted she was to June, even though she paid for her presence?
No one had treated her like that before.
Not even the others who said they loved her.
Most of those clients had other lovers they saw, anyway.
They even openly talked about them in front of her. It made it easier to let them down.
“You don’t need me. Go to one of your other girls from now on.”
June hated turning down good money, but sometimes, it was necessary for her interests.
This… this was all about her physical and emotional interests!
Miquela had her on the bed before she could think of a single reason to end this.
They had seen each other as little as a few days ago, but it already felt like an age.
Things had happened in those few days… good things, terrible things.
Things that June never thought would make a difference in her life, yet she should have known.
I should have known!
Miquela kissed as if she could lose her at any moment. She tore off June’s clothing as if she couldn’t wait to see her naked body yet again. She made love to her with such desperation that June couldn’t help but see it as a cry for reciprocation.
This woman loved her…
This woman loved her!
What else could June do but make love in return? She wanted Miquela as much as Miquela clearly wanted her. Whenever they were together, June ceased to think about anything else. No other obligations. No other careers. No other people…
Miquela was so much woman as she was. Whether she was mumbling romantic words in June’s ear while she held and touched her, or moving with incredible force against her, she was showing how much she could offer.
Physical compassion. Intimacy. A life that was endless passion and desire.
She had loved before and walked away from the relationship with nothing but pain.
Could June put her through that pain again?
Or should she see what was in front of her eyes…
a woman who had chosen to love and trust again… with her?
June didn’t want to say it was love, but when such a woman was loving her with every ounce of strength and determination she had, how could she deny what she felt? Whatever it was, it was powerful enough to make her decide some terrible things for her career.
She was so blown away by her own thoughts and feelings that she never anticipated a sudden climax that knocked stars right in front of her face.
Miquela refused to get off her until she promised to hold her hand on the bed.
They lay there, gazing at her ceiling, June out of breath but not without her wits again.
“Wow,” she whispered. “You’re going to be the death of me, Miquela.”
“Does she make love to you like that?”
Why the hell did that have to be the first thing out of her mouth?
“Shut up. Don’t think about her. Think about me.”
Miquela rolled over, her disheveled clothing and hair too beautiful to resist. “I am always thinking about you, June. You’re the only woman in this world I think so much about.”
“It will pass, you know. One day, you’ll wonder why you were so infatuated with me. I’ve seen it before, and I’m sure I will see it again.”
“It’s not like that at all. I…”
“Please, not today.” June was glad when Miquela stood and started to put herself back together. “You need to go, anyway. I have to start work soon.”
“Yes. Your appointment.” Miquela glanced at the painting on her wall. “I’ll go. I wanted you to know that I love you. That’s real. Whatever the outcome, I’m still going to love you.”
She didn’t doubt that.
When she left, June threw herself back down on her bed, pulling her pillow toward her face so she could groan. Then doze off, because what else was she to do? Face her problems?
If I take a short nap, everything will make itself clear later…
Her door opened and shut with a soft click. At first, she thought nothing of it. Must’ve been a maid come to straighten things up… but then June realized those self-assured footsteps could not have belonged to the dainty women who came in every day to clean rooms.
She opened one eye before sitting up with a start.
“Sette!”
Sette stood at the end of her bed, looking down at the scene of her sexual – and emotional – crime. Her demeanor went from confused to borderline incensed within five seconds.
“You’re early.”
Sette dropped her bag on the floor in front of her bed. “You’re busy.”
“No… I…” June looked down. Oh, my God! She was naked from the waist down, her skin glistening and flushed with leftover arousal from Miquela’s touch.
“I’ll come back later when you’re cleaned up.”
Sette bent down to pick up her bag. Where was she going?
She could leave her things here. She was forty-five minutes early, but June didn’t mind.
Where are you going? Don’t go anywhere… How was it possible that June was as relieved to see her as she was scandalized? Was she… embarrassed? What the fuck!
“Or…” Sette put her bag down again, but did not turn to face her. “I could paint you as is. Could be a fantastic piece, really. ‘Courtesan Caught.’ The question is… if it’s not the painter, then who is it that’s mussed up the model?”
Don’t you dare shame me.
June thought that, yet the words coming out of her mouth were, “I’m sorry. I should’ve known you were coming soon.”
“Hmph. She must’ve been good, though. To knock you out like that first thing in your work week. I wonder… could any other woman compare today? Or are you done?”
“What are you asking?”
She looked over her shoulder, thin eyes narrowing into slits. “Don’t play coy with me, please. Let’s work.”
“I don’t want you to paint me like this.” June shoved aside any covers beneath her, messing up the bed she had made before lunch. “If you do, you’ll be doing it to spite me.”
“Don’t take me that way.”
She was slowly unpacking her things. The little easel. The pencils. The brushes. A small canvas. There were tubes of tester paint she used to get a feel for what colors she wanted to use when she painted later. Sette didn’t touch those yet.
“I’m sorry.”
Usually, she would interpret her own phrase to mean that she was sorry she was in such a state when her appointment arrived. It was not exactly professional.
I’m genuinely sorry. I’m… ashamed?
No, not ashamed. June was never ashamed of what she did for a living. Other clients could deal with it, or they could see themselves out of her place of business and far, far away from her body. I’m not ashamed about that, per se. What was she ashamed of, then?
Was it… hurting her? Was she even hurt?
Sette’s visage softened, and in turn, June’s heart did as well. Relief coursed through her like a gently flowing stream. Good. Good .
“You’re a beautiful woman, June,” Sette said, setting the canvas on the easel. “No matter who has touched you.”
The relief quickly changed course and turned into fire.
“I know you didn’t mean what you said,” she spat. When Sette merely sat on her stool and looked at her, unchanged, she became even more incensed. “Don’t you dare call me dirty.”
“I would never say such a thing.”
“You implied it!”
“What the hell do you want me to say?” Finally, some emotion! Cold-shoulder Sette was not sexy. “I find you passed out in bed with another woman’s fluids all over your damn skin!”
A pause. Then, June laughed.
“What the fuck!”
“Only a doctor would say fluids !”
Sette gaped at her in disbelief. June, meanwhile, continued to laugh, hand clutching her bare stomach and doing God knew what to her insides.
“Come on, June.” Sighing, Sette slumped on her stool, still in disbelief. “Think of this from my perspective. Did you have this planned?”
“What? No way.” She had stopped laughing, but the ridiculousness of the situation was still not lost on her. “I’m sorry. Really. You don’t know… these past couple of days have been crazy, and then this woman comes in an hour ago… and, well, you see what the rest was.”
“Yes. You slept with her.”
More like she slept with me, but I won’t get into semantics.
“I sleep with people for a living, Sette. You’re far from the only one. You haven’t been the only one since I started seeing you.”
Sette didn’t answer. She didn’t have to, honestly.