Quentin’s Woman
Best & Brightest, Episode 4

by Vulgar Argot

(MF, rom, FF/nosex, asphyx(light), M/Dom(vlight), RP)

Nuria woke up unsure of where she was. Over her head, a bitter wind whistled eerily past the panes of the skylight, rattling them in their frames. She was curled up in a ball, arms hugging her knees, covered in Quentin's jacket.

Quentin. She'd slept with Quentin. For a moment, shame roiled through her mind. Then, she remembered. Quentin was an adult now. She was no longer his eighth-grade teacher. Not opening her eyes, she reached for him. But, he wasn't there.

She opened her eyes and called out to him, "Quentin..."

"I'm right here," he said. Despite the fact that he didn't raise his voice, it carried across the room to her ear. Nuria sat up, wrapping the jacket around her shoulders, seeking the direction his words had come from.

And there he was, standing framed in a rectangle of light, completely and magnificently naked. The light resolved to a doorway as he stepped out of it.

And then he was there, next to her, his arms wrapped around her. Nuria burrowed into him, seeking comfort and closeness. He mistook it for ardor. Or, perhaps, his own ardor was so great that what she wanted didn't matter. He buried his hand in her hair, pulling her head back for a kiss. His other hand pressed her to him, her legs parting, wrapping around his hips as he pulled her into his lap. She felt him begin to stiffen against her thigh.

"Come on," he murmured against her throat. "Let's go downstairs. I've got a bedroom. It's much better suited for this sort of thing."

Nuria wrapped her arms around him, not wanting to be separated. Quentin laughed and lifted her, easily. Even when he'd been her student, he already stood a few inches over Nuria. Now, he carried her in his arms like a child. Nuria looked up to see the stairs approaching.

"You'd better let me walk," she said. "I don't want you to fall."

Quentin let her down, "I wouldn't fall."

He led her downstairs, back to where he'd given her only a perfunctory look at his bedroom a few hours earlier, as if afraid of what might happen there. He didn't hesitate this time, taking her by the hand and leading her inside.

Nuria shivered as she crossed the threshold.

"Cold?"

Nuria nodded, "A little." She was, but she'd shivered at the odd sense of ceremony that she'd suddenly gotten, as if she'd done something momentous by coming through the doorway.

Quentin led her to the bed and turned down the covers. Then, he gathered her into his arms, tilted her head back, and kissed her passionately, his tongue teasing against hers. As he kissed, he pushed her gently backwards until she was lying diagonally across the bed.

"Oh, Quentin," she whispered. He broke the kiss long enough to pull the covers over his own back, covering them both.

His hands on her body had an urgency, even though they moved slowly. They went to her breasts, stroking and petting them. At the same time, he kissed her face and neck. Nuria felt her own sense of urgency rising as her body began to naturally undulate under Quentin's hands. Under the blankets, he seemed to be radiating warmth and transferring it to her through his touch.

Nuria moaned at the feeling of Quentin's lips and tongue on her breast. A few seconds later, his hand was between her legs, spreading them, stroking her. Nuria spread them wider, pushing against Quentin's fingers. She closed her eyes as another wave of pleasure started to shake her.

Quentin seemed to sense her urgency because a couple of minutes later, he lay on his back, pulling Nuria on top of him so that she straddled his waist. Nuria leaned down and kissed him, first on the mouth, then a line down his chest. She moved down his body quickly, hoping he wouldn't try to stop her before she reached her destination.

He didn't. Nuria licked his cock from the base to the tip. Quentin shuddered with pleasure. She took him into her mouth, licking the shaft as she moved her head up and down.

Just as she was building up a good rhythm, Quentin applied pressure to Nuria's shoulder until she sat up. She looked down at him, wondering momentarily what she had done wrong. But, in his next motion, he sat up, pulling her onto his lap, spreading her legs again, guiding her hips, and entering her. He did it in a such a smooth motion that it was a shock to Nuria to find him inside of her. She moaned in surprise and pleasure.

This time, Quentin's lovemaking was slower, more deliberate. Despite an obvious undercurrent of suppressed urgency, he was relentlessly methodical, not just making love to Nuria, but claiming her. His hands seemed to be making a complete survey of her body, finding every curve and valley and creating a topographical map of her in his head.

When his pace increased, it did so almost imperceptibly. Nuria didn't know when the transition came, only noticed that he had been driving fiercely against her for some time, her arms wrapped around his shoulders, her face in the crook of his neck. The pleasure had snuck up on her too, until it was all-consuming, like a bright light at midnight.

Afterwards, as Quentin pulled out of her, he placed a flurry of kisses on her cheeks and neck. Nuria realized that he was kissing away tears. Before he could go so far in a mistaken assumption, she said, "Oh, Quentin. You've made me so happy."

He smiled down at her, saying nothing. It was the last thing Nuria remembered before falling asleep.

                            -=-

Nuria woke to the warmth of sunshine on her face and the feel of Quentin rolling on his side to face her. His hand traced a delicate line from between her breasts, down her belly, and across one thigh. Nuria did not open her eyes, preferring to see what he would do if he thought her still asleep. For a long minute, he did nothing. Nuria realized he must be just staring at her in full sunlight. At the realization, her eyes flew open. Quentin smiled down at her and kissed her sternum, just below her breasts.

"I was just going to go downstairs and get some breakfast," he said. "Are you hungry?"

Nuria nodded, "Famished."

"Great," he said. "I need to rush downstairs. For some reason, setting my alarm slipped my mind last night and Mayumi is going to be here in about a half hour to go over some details about the unstoppable perpetual promotion machine."

Nuria got a panicked look in her eyes, "Mayumi's coming here? Quentin, I should go."

Quentin smiled down at her, "Ashamed of me?" There was gently mockery in his voice.

Nuria shook her head, "No. Of course not. It's just that--well, I'm afraid you've put me in an awkward position. I..." Seeing Quentin's reaction, she burst into laughter.

"What?"

"You've still got the smirk," she said. "I could always tell when you were suppressing some snide remark because you got this smirk that made whatever lewd thing you were thinking of saying completely unnecessary."

Quentin wrapped his arms around her, shoulder and knee, "You know, in my overheated adolescent brain, I was sure that you were speaking in double entendre just to me to try to communicate some secret crush that we dare not admit to the world."

Nuria laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck to kiss him, "Apparently, you had a much better grasp of the future than I did."

"So," he said, pressing her knees to her chest in a hug, "Why don't you tell me about this awkward position that I've put you in while I contemplate what other awkward positions I can put you in?"

Nuria laughed again, "I always suspected you were a wicked child."

"And now I'm a wicked adult," Quentin reminded her. "Now, what's up?"

Nuria forced herself to put on a serious demeanor, "I went in to Aqueduct on Friday. The way that I got the job has ruffled some feathers. So far, it seems to be limited to people that were directly dislodged from their chosen perches. But, if it looks like I got my job there because I was sleeping with you...well, it would be very hard to get taken seriously at work."

Quentin frowned, "I know what you mean. Book people are vicious gossips. There are plenty of people at Perihelion who just assume that I'm sleeping with Mayumi. I wanted to do something about it, but she assures me that any attempt at denial will only make it worse."

Nuria nodded, "And you probably didn't get her that job."

"Actually," said Quentin, "I did."

"Oh," said Nuria.

"She was going out with a friend of mine from college, had gotten an English degree, and been out of work for a year. I wasn't even trying to get her a job. I just mentioned to John Vargas that she'd applied there a few months before. The next thing I know, she's got a job there and she's an assistant to my editor."

"Fortunately, she's turned out to be incredibly competent and I've had absolutely nothing to complain about. But, until I ran into her at work, it never occurred to me how much weight I could potentially throw around in the business."

Nuria raked her hair out of her eyes, "So, you see how it's effected Mayumi. I'm going to have to deal with some of that, too. But, it will be a lot worse if people know I'm sleeping with you rather than just suspect."

Quentin frowned again, "So, you mean that we shouldn't tell anyone in the business?"

"I mean we shouldn't tell anyone who isn't going to figure it out on their own."

Quentin sighed, "For how long? We're not going to be able to keep it a secret forever. I'm kind of in the public eye."

"Just until I bring a book to print other than yours...well, and Sean's."

"Someone you haven't slept with, you mean?"

Nuria searched Quentin's eyes for some sign of acrimony or bitterness, but the words just seemed to be a request for clarification. Nuria saw only affection there. Still, she lowered her head when she answered, "Right."

"And, I suspect it would dilute the effect if it were someone I introduced you to?"

Nuria nodded, "Not just to everyone else. Quentin, I need to know that I can make it on this level for my own sake. This is a big step up from books about cement."

Quentin nodded, "I guess I understand. But, I can't say I'm entirely happy about it. I'm already far too much in the spotlight. If people get a sense that I'm hiding something, it's bound to be worse."

"Is it really that bad?" Nuria asked. "I thought the media mostly left authors alone."

Quentin smiled, "They usually do. But, I got mixed up with Hollywood . Plus, I had some 'youthful indiscretions' after the royalties started rolling in on the first book. The tabloids picked up on them and sort of elaborated them out of all recognition compared to reality."

Nuria leaned up and kissed him, "Anyway, that's why I should go. If Mayumi sees me here this early..."

Now, Quentin laughed, "Nuria, it's ten minutes past noon."

Nuria stared at the bedside clock in disbelief, "It can't be. I never sleep this late."

"I must have worn you out," said Quentin, not hiding his smug smile. He kissed her again, "I'll see you downstairs."

                                   -=-

In the shower, Nuria realized another problem. All of her clothes were upstairs in the solarium. If Mayumi saw her running around in a bathrobe with wet hair, the cat would be out of the bag.

As it turned out, she needn't have worried. When she emerged from the bathroom, the bed was made and her clothes neatly folded at the foot of it. Considering the scene the night before, she was amazed to find that nothing was torn. She was also mildly embarrassed to realize that someone on Quentin's house staff, probably a maid, had come across the tangle of her clothes, gathered them up, and folded them while she showered off the remnants of her dalliances.

Nuria's mother had been a maid. She'd often used the goings on at the house where she worked as counter-examples to her exhortations about leading a good, Christian life. Nuria could almost hear her voice describing the indignity of having to gather up the clothing from some midnight tryst.

Nuria stomped down hard on that line of thought. It had been nearly twenty years since she'd lived under her mother's thumb. Still, it left a tinge of melancholy to a mood that had, moments earlier, been solidly ebullient.

She dried her hair and dressed quickly. Smiling at herself in the mirror, she marveled at the job Carla had done on her head. By just blow drying and brushing her hair, it looked professional and sophisticated, not at all like the "fashion model on the prowl" look she'd had last night.

As she came down the stairs, she heard laughter coming from the kitchen, both Quentin's and what she assumed to be Mayumi's. Nuria stood in the hallway, torn between quietly slipping quietly out the door and intruding.

She didn't know how long she would have stood there if a woman hadn't popped her head out of the kitchen doorway. It wasn't Mayumi, but an older woman, Irish by her coppery hair, fair complexion and faint accent, "Aye. There y'are. I thought I heard you out there. Come on in."

Nuria followed her into the kitchen. The woman wore the light gray uniform of domestic help everywhere. Quentin and Mayumi were sitting at a white island-style table that sat just inside the carpeted area. Instead of the professional clothes Nuria had seen her wearing in the past, Mayumi wore blue jeans, a gray sweatshirt with the logo of New York University emblazoned on it, and retro-stylish black horn-rimmed glasses. Quentin was attired in jeans and a t-shirt. The two of them were eating and reading at the same time.

Nuria felt horribly over-dressed. Mayumi raised her head and smiled, not seeming to notice the dress. Then, her eyes fell to Nuria's clutch--a small black velvet purse obviously meant for an evening out. Her eyes flashed to Nuria's, just enough to make contact. There was no obvious recognition there, no raised eyebrow, but she knew. Nuria just couldn't say how. Quentin, for his part, was engrossed in reading and did not look up.

"Can I get you something to eat?" the older woman asked.

Now, Quentin looked up, "If you're hungry, you should try Mrs. Connelly's oatmeal. It's excellent."

"All right," said Nuria. "And, if there's any coffee..."

"I'll get it for you," said Mrs. Connelly.

Mayumi was reading again, "I looked at the rewrite on chapters five and six. I thought you said you were going to go less Shadowrun."

"I said I was thinking about it," said Quentin.

"It looks like you went the opposite way."

"It just seems to work better. A lot of this stuff has been coming out stilted and I think it's because I've been trying to avoid the genre. But, the story is what it is. Besides, it's definitely Shadowrun as we played it, not really recognizable as the original. The legals at Aqueduct will deal with it if it becomes a problem."

"You're discussing 'Final Solution?'" Nuria asked.

Quentin nodded, "Except that was just a working title. Now, it's called, 'A Brother to Dragons.'"

"So," asked Nuria, taking a sip of the coffee Mrs. Connelly had gotten for her, "what are you going to call the third book?"

Quentin laughed and said to Mayumi, "I told you some people would get it."

"I don't know if I'm the best test market," said Nuria. "My mother was kind of obsessed with the Book of Job. I can still recite chapter and verse now, even though I haven't picked up a Bible in over fifteen years."

"Your folks were very religious?" Quentin asked.

Nuria was stunned by the question. As a teacher, she'd kept her private life as private as she could. But, somehow, she'd gotten so wrapped up in the idea that Quentin knew her, she'd forgotten just how little he really knew.

"I would say it was pretty much a defining characteristic of my upbringing. My brother's a priest. My sister's a nun. I'm an atheist."

"That must have been tough, growing up," opined Mayumi.

"Actually, growing up, I thought that I wanted to be a nun, too."

Quentin chuckled, "You did?"

Nuria glowered at his a little, "Yes. I did. What's so funny about that?"

Quentin shrugged, "I just have kind of a hard time seeing it. You've always seemed kind of...worldly."

"Well," said Nuria, taking a spoon full of oatmeal, "I can't deny that I probably would have had some issues adapting to a life devoted to prayer."

"You know," said Mayumi, "Maybe you should just embrace the Shadowrun aspect. I bet Chaosium would love to tie in a supplement to a J. X. Wolffe book."

"A Quentin Edwards book," said Quentin.

"Well, that part they might not be so crazy about. But, I'm still betting they would jump at it."

"So, Nuria," asked Quentin, "what do you think?"

Nuria looked up from her breakfast, "I'm kind of lost. I don't think I've ever read Shadowrun or know of a publisher named Chaosium."

Quentin nodded, "Shadowrun is a role-playing game, made by Chaosium. A lot of the aspects of A Brother to Dragons are cribbed from the genre created for the game, elves and ogres and stuff running around in a cyberpunk near-future."

Nuria shrugged, "I'm not a legal expert, but my understanding is that you really can't copyright a genre. If you could, every fantasy publisher would be paying royalties to J. R. R. Tolkien and C. S. Lewis. Still, a tie-in might not be a bad idea. It would help promote the book and the game and let people know that you were open to merchandising."

Mayumi laughed, "I don't think Burger King is going to be doing action figures for this one."

"And that suits me just fine," said Quentin. "Nuria, why don't I get you a copy of the current version? It's pretty disjointed where I've made changes, but Mayumi and I can bring you up to speed and the version I gave you should help."

"Okay," said Nuria. And, Quentin was up and out the door.

Mayumi smiled at Nuria and went back to eating her breakfast. Nuria cast about in her mind for something to talk about.

She indicated the manuscripts, "Is this going to cause problems with Aqueduct publishing Quentin's next book?"

Nuria, who hadn't seen the gesture, looked up, "You sleeping with him? I don't see why."

"I..." Nuria turned beet red. "Actually," she managed to squeak out, "I meant you helping him edit his manuscript when you work at Perihelion."

Now, Mayumi blushed, "Oh, Miss Delgado. I'm sorry. I thought you...I'm....That is..." She took a deep breath, "What I mean to say is, I never work on the book during business hours. I visit during my free time and help him thrash out his ideas. He doesn't trust any of the other editors at Perihelion much."

Nuria took a deep breath, "It was the purse, wasn't it?"

Mayumi smiled, "It was the purse that made me realize you'd been here overnight last night. I assumed he would want this the day he introduced you at the Barnes & Nobles--at least, as soon as I figured out that you were that Miss Delgado. He talked about you all through college and mentioned you at least once a month after that."

Having gone this far, Nuria had to ask, "Have you and Quentin..."

Mayumi gave a curt nod, "Twice. The first time was our first week of freshman year. I...slept with a lot of guys that year. It was kind of crazy. He was the only one I stayed friends with, though. But, that was a long time ago. I won't say it didn't mean anything, but it hasn't meant anything in a long time. He's like a big brother to me now."

Nuria smiled, "We've decided not to make anything public for a while. I don't think anyone would believe that we started sleeping together after he got me the job, but before my first day. It seems rather contrived."

Mayumi smiled, "That must have been your idea. I once mentioned in passing the fact that some people at Perihelion assumed that he and I were sleeping together because we worked so closely. He wanted to go charging in and set the record straight. It was very cute."

"As for the other thing, don't worry. I don't gossip, particularly not about Quentin's women. Considering how much flak I've gotten from people who presume I'm one of them, it would be pretty obnoxious of me."

"Quentin's women?" Nuria asked.

"Oh," said Mayumi, covering her mouth briefly. "Well, I'm not telling tales out of school, really. If you see Quentin's name in a newspaper, it's generally because he's being romantically linked with one famous woman or another or accused of some outrageous public behavior. But, don't believe it. Half of it's total nonsense."

"Only half?"

Mayumi looked pensive, "Probably more than that."

"Oh," said Nuria, more than a little stunned.

Mayumi leaned forward and gripped Nuria's wrist, "Listen. Don't take anything I just said to mean that he's anything other than a great guy. He is."

Nuria nodded, "Just a great guy with a history."

Mayumi thought about it again, "I suppose you could call it that."

"All right," said Quentin, grinning as he strolled into the room, "I'm here. Stop talking about me."

                               -=-

Nuria didn't get a chance to talk to Mayumi alone again before the younger woman had to leave for a class at the gym. It was probably just as well. She wasn't sure what she wanted to ask anyway.

She and Quentin made plans to get together later that night after Nuria had a chance to go home and put on some fresh clothes. Then, after a kiss good bye that narrowly avoided winding up back in the bedroom, she got in the elevator and headed out.

The streets of New York in late January came as a bit of a shock to Nuria. It was bitterly cold and windy. All of the cabs seemed full or off-duty. She'd risked not wearing a hat the night before and regretted it now. Her ears became so cold that they started to hurt. Quentin had offered to have a car take her home, but she had pridefully declined. Sighing, she decided to start looking for a subway station.

She'd only gotten about a block when she saw a cab pulling up to let someone out. Rushing, she waved her arm at it frantically until the driver waved back. She was starting to feel like she'd lucked out when she stepped off the curb into a six-inch puddle of slush. Cursing, she dragged herself into the cab, water still sluicing out of her shoe.

As she opened the door to her apartment, she braced herself to be bombarded with questions about her night. But, Carla was apparently at work and Pearl was asleep in her room. Nuria muttered to herself as she stripped down for her shower, then chuckled. She hadn't realized how much she'd been looking forward to sharing the details of her evening until she was robbed of the opportunity.

Shortly after she slipped into the shower, a tentative knock came on the door from Pearl 's room. Nuria told her to come on in.

"Look at who's finally slunk home," said Pearl , laughing. "Did you have a good night?"

Nuria stuck her head around the shower curtain and gave her roommate a grin, "It was...pleasant."

Pearl laughed harder, "Oh, no. You can not leave me hanging like that. Why don't you let me come in there and wash your back while you give me all the details?"

"All right," said Nuria. "But, only if you promise to behave yourself. I promised Quentin we would go out again tonight."

Pearl looked surprised, but after a moment's hesitation, shed her own robe and joined Nuria in the shower. As she soaped up her hands, she said, "You must have had a very...mellowing evening."

Nuria nodded, "I wasn't kidding when I said that I'm a very different person when I'm...seeing someone. You two may decide I'm too rowdy to live with before this is all over." Then, she turned to face Pearl and kissed her between her breasts.

"You're not kidding, are you?" said Pearl . "This is really uncharacteristic behavior for you, as far as I know."

Nuria grinned up at her, "Do you object?"

"I don't...think so," said Pearl . As promised, she wrapped her arms around Nuria and began to soap up her back. "Do you think Quentin would mind?"

"I doubt it," said Nuria. "We didn't have a lot of time to talk about the specifics. But, if the subject of showering with my roommates comes up, I'll ask."

"So," asked Pearl , "was he good?"

Nuria smiled up at her, "Good does not begin to describe it. Pete, my husband, was pretty amazing, but I would have to think very hard to remember if he ever made me feel like Quentin made me feel last night. I feel like I'm fifteen again."

"Is that a good thing?" asked Pearl . "I don't remember fifteen being very positive."

"Fifteen is when I decided not to be a nun, not to be a Catholic, and not to give a damn what my mother thought of me," Nuria laughed. "It's when I started sneaking out at night and hanging out with the bad kids."

Pearl may an indignant sound, "Carla and I don't make you feel like that? I thought we were the bad kids."

Nuria laughed, "You two just make me feel old."

Pearl made an indignant sound. Her hands fell to Nuria's bottom and gripped it firmly, "I bet I could make you feel fifteen again."

Nuria squealed and slid out of Pearl 's grip and squealed, "You promised to behave."

"Actually, I never did make that promise," Pearl pointed out, leering at her.

Nuria's face went blank, "I really should do this alone." For a moment, her voice was as cold as the wind outside.

Pearl 's face fell, "Oh, Nuria. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..."

Nuria felt the beginning of a headache coming on. She said wearily, "No. I'm sorry. That came out completely wrong. I just suddenly realized how complicated my life has become and it scared me."

Pearl gave her a lopsided grin, "I don't mean to be a complication, Miss D. I just want to be your friend."

Nuria reached out and hugged her, clutching onto her after a moment like a mast in a storm, "Oh, Pearl . You and Carla are the best friends I've ever had. I just mean that I've made my life complicated in a very short period of time. This may be the most wonderful, exciting week of my entire life. But, I've got a new job where I need to prove myself the first day. I've gone from zero to three lovers in a few days. I'm just afraid that I'm not going to be able to keep the juggling act up."

"Well," asked Pearl , stroking Nuria's hair, "do you need to juggle? Like I said, I just want to be your friend. I don't think of myself as anything other than Carla's friend and we've been together lots of times. I want her to be happy with Emil. If that means that she and I can't do some things that we've done together in the past, then I'll miss those things, but not enough to keep her from having a life."

"I'm not used to thinking like that."

Pearl shrugged, "I'm not entirely either. It's part of my new attitude. But, I really do believe it."

Nuria raised an eyebrow, "More Doug Fischer?"

"In essence," said Pearl . "It's an extension of something I learned from him. He says, 'Definitions are fluid.' Specifically, he meant in a business environment. I mean, when we worked together, he was a temp and I was a temp, but the word meant very different things because we chose how we wanted to define that word in context to ourselves."

"You mean he chose, right?" Nuria asked. "I mean it sounds like you weren't very happy at that point."

"No. We both chose. Nobody coerced me into being who I was."

" Pearl ," asked Nuria, "has this young man of yours ever written a book?"

Pearl laughed, "He's not my or anyone else's young man by any stretch of the imagination. And, I believe that he said that trying to write a book to market to people he couldn't deal with face-to-face would be, 'like trying to fuck through the mail.'"

Nuria refused to be discouraged, "If I wanted to try to change his mind, would he meet with me?"

Pearl looked down at Nuria, her face serious, "I'm betting that he would. But, sweetie, people don't change Doug's mind."

"Well, then, I'd like a chance to present him with some options that he may not have fully considered."

Pearl kissed the tip of Nuria's nose, "You don't have to convince me. I'll give him a call, ask him to call you."

"Thank you," said Nuria sincerely.

"So," asked Pearl , "what are you going to do about Sean?"

Nuria laughed, "That is the sixty-four thousand dollar question, isn't it? I'll probably have to tell him about me and Quentin. But, at the same time, Quentin and I are both helping him get more firmly established in the publishing industry. And I'm trying to keep the details of my love life out of the hands of people involved in that world. But, Mayumi already knows."

"Quentin's editorial assistant already knows?" asked Pearl . "How did that happen."

"She had a meeting with him today. When I came down to join them, she spotted that little black purse that I was carrying. I could see it in her eyes. Then, she let slip that she'd figured it out."

"Why don't you start from the beginning?" Pearl suggested.

Nuria took a deep breath, then filled Pearl in as to the details of everything that had happened since she'd left the apartment the previous evening. She even started to go into the details of what had happened in the solarium, but realized that it was both embarrassing both of them and getting them turned on and they'd already been in the shower far longer than she'd meant to be. Then, she'd explained what had happened with Sean.

It felt incredibly good to get it all off of her chest. Pearl was a good listener, asking all of the right questions. The story outlasted the shower. Both of them were sitting on the couch in their robes when it finally wrapped up.

"Well, Miss D, you sure did jump in with both feet, didn't you?"

Nuria sighed, "I've never been able to do it by half-measures. I can shut sex out or I can let it in. I don't seem to be very good at leaving the door part-way open."

"How did you ever manage to stay married?" Pearl asked, laughing.

"Pete knew how to handle me," she said. "As long as I felt like I could trust him to make the decisions for us, I didn't have to be anything but his wife. Besides, he was very amorous. I never felt deprived."

"Do you feel deprived now?" Pearl asked, sounding incredulous.

"No," said Nuria. "I feel overwhelmed--but only since I slept with Quentin." She scowled, "This is all his fault. He got me all worked up, then didn't deliver. If he'd just ravished me that first night, I wouldn't be in this mess."

Pearl shrugged, "I tried to help where I could. But, a body can only do so much."

Nuria hugged her, "And, you did an exemplary job. You're certainly not at fault here. Neither is Quentin. This is my mess."

"You know," said Pearl , "plenty of people would kill to have your problems."

"Yeah," admitted Nuria. "They are nice problems to have, I guess. Of course, my problem right now is how I'm going to explain to Quentin that I'm not ready for him yet because I stayed in the shower with my roommate until we both pruned up." She rose.

"I would say it just like that," called Pearl from the living room. "That would get his attention."

                              -=-

Nuria, after a brief bit of agonizing, had chosen to wear a calf-length black skirt and cream-colored blouse for the evening. Quentin had said to expect a casual, intimate dinner. The outfit wasn't quite casual. She could wear it to the office in a pinch. But, she still didn't have a huge number of wardrobe options.

Quentin came to the door holding a thick bouquet of red roses. Nuria looked around for a free vase, but couldn't find one. Pearl had disappeared into her room in anticipation of Quentin's arrival. Nuria called her out to help find a vase.

"Ah," said Quentin. "I was beginning to wonder if your roommates had been a figment of my imagination. Is Carla hiding back there somewhere, too?"

Pearl shook her head, "She's out on a shoot today. I just thought that you two might want some privacy."

Quentin looked to Nuria, seeking her opinion on the matter. Nuria said, "We'll have plenty of time for that later, I believe. There's no need to hide in your room when Quentin comes over. But, the consideration is appreciated."

The other consideration that Nuria appreciated, but considered unnecessary was that Pearl had dressed in loose-fitting blue jeans and an oversized sweatshirt she'd never seen before. In addition, she didn't seem to be wearing much makeup if any at all. She also seemed rather subdued and quiet, at least in terms of her usually frenetic personality.

As they got up, Quentin said, "It was good seeing you again, Pearl . You and Carla shouldn't wait up tonight. I'll have her home safe tomorrow."

"Oh," said Nuria. "How silly. I didn't think to pack for an overnight stay."

She'd gotten about two steps when Quentin said, "We can take care of that at my place if you like."

Nuria raised a questioning eyebrow. Quentin said, "I had Mrs. Connelly take your sizes from your clothes this morning. We can have something appropriate sent up tonight."

"Sent up?" Nuria asked.

Quentin nodded, "I have a shopping service that handles all sorts of strange requests. They've gotten me private jet service and catering for two hundred both with less than twelve hours notice. Getting some clothes in your size on a Sunday afternoon will be cake for them."

Nuria looked to Pearl for support. Pearl shrugged and nodded vigorously. Quentin's face registered confusion at her pause. So, she said weakly, "All right."

"Great." Quentin opened his cell phone, pressed a few buttons, and said, "Yeah. Quentin here. I had some sizes sent over earlier today, filed under the name Nuria. Yes. Those are the ones. I'd like to have some clothes sent to my place for her--pajamas, something casual for a Sunday afternoon, and...something more businesslike for the first day of work as an editor?" The end of the statement went up into a question as Quentin shot Nuria a pointed stare, asking permission for the presumption. Nuria just smiled weakly.

Quentin was still speaking into his cell phone, "Hispanic. No. Lighter. No. Darker than her. Yeah. That sounds about right. Yeah. That would be a good color match. Well, does any woman look bad in that? OK. Yeah. True. Sounds good. Send it over."

"Great," he said, closing the phone, "everything's taken care of. Shall we go?"

"Okay," said Nuria, feeling a little bit swept along.

Pearl came over to hug her and whisper in her ear, "Let him pamper you. Most guys only do that before you sleep with them."

Nuria nodded, somewhat reassured.

                                  -=-

Dinner was held in a small, private dining room on the same level as the solarium. One wall of the room was made out of glass and looked out over the city. Their seats were a curved bench that let them both look out the window or at each other as the mood struck them. A young man in a white tuxedo served their salads and disappeared.

"Quentin, I thought you said this was going to be casual. I didn't dress..."

Quentin waved her protest away, "I'm afraid that I've only figured out how to get three levels of service. There's kitchen service, like we had breakfast today. There's formal service, which is completely over-the-top. And there's this. I thought this would be more comfortable than either of the other two choices. I didn't really dress for it either."

Nuria looked at what he was wearing--black slacks and a navy blue, button-up shirt and granted him the point. Still, she said, "Still, it's all pretty overwhelming."

Quentin smiled gently, "I'm barely used to it myself. There's this whole infrastructure set up in theory to make sure that I don't have to spend time on anything but writing. But, I spend an awful lot of time just dealing with the infrastructure. I won't say I regret my success, but..." he let out a heavy sigh. "I suspect I would get a lot more writing done if they'd never made those movies. Of course, I would have sold a lot fewer books, too."

Nuria looked out over the snowy landscape, "I guess every life has its share of problems."

"Yeah," said Quentin. "It sure beats the problems I had before I was published. So," he turned to Nuria, "I realized this morning that I know very little about your life before or since we were in school together. Did you really want to be a nun?"

Nuria nodded, "I thought so. My mother was raised by nuns in an orphanage in Guatemala . She was a novice herself when she met my father. By the time I was old enough to be aware of such things, I think she'd decided that it had been a huge mistake. My father left when I was three."

"That sounds rough."

Nuria shrugged, "It was the only life I knew. I was the youngest. My brother went into the seminary. My sister entered a convent. It's funny. My sister was totally boy-crazy right up until the day she became a novice. But, the whole time she knew she was going to be a nun. I was so sure that she was going to change her mind and make it easier for me to do so. When she went in, I lost it a little bit."

"How so?" asked Quentin, leaning in, obviously engrossed by her story.

"I started sneaking out, drinking and smoking pot. I lost my virginity to the first guy who asked for it, even though he had absolutely nothing else going for him. I started making excuses to not go to church on Sundays. I even started screwing up in school."

"How did your mother take this?"

Nuria laughed, "She gave me flak about the school, so I straightened it up. The rest she was completely oblivious to. My sister knew, but kept my secrets."

As dinner progressed, Nuria found herself telling Quentin a lot of her history. She glossed over most of her sexual history other than her marriage to Pedro. Somehow, Quentin made it easy for her to talk about herself. In the end, she wound up telling him more than she meant to. It was partly the wine, but mostly the company that made her relax. Even as she was revealing deeply-held secrets, Quentin was joking and making her laugh.

"So," she asked finally, "somehow, you managed to get me to tell you my whole life story without telling me a damned thing about what you got up to after I got married. What's your story?"

Quentin smiled, "My story's easy to find. It's all a matter of public record."

Nuria laughed, "I've been told that the newspapers don't always get it right about you."

Quentin took a sip of wine, "Any time they see me talking to a woman in a public setting, they assume a romantic link, particularly if she's a celebrity. And, they'll print any rumor that's repeated to them or, if they need to fill some column inches, just make them up."

"So, Quentin Edwards," Nuria said, still smiling, "have there been many genuine romantic links?"

Quentin's face got serious, "There have been a few. Far more were never about romance. Like I said before, I never really had to spend a night alone if I didn't want to. I didn't want to very often."

"Oh," said Nuria, "So, do all of your women get such good treatment?"

"I like to think that I'm a gentleman, no matter who I'm dealing with," said Quentin. "But, Nuria, I've had a lot of relationships, each unique in its own way. I've never deliberately treated a woman as a commodity. I've tried to never sleep with women I wouldn't be friends with. It would be disrespectful of me to be sorry for having been with them and I'm not."

Quentin's face was defiant now. Nuria smiled to indicate that she wasn't about to give him trouble about his history and said, "I wish I'd chosen so well." Then, most of the rest of her story came out. The only parts Nuria left out were those that involved people Quentin had known while in school.

He seemed to realize that she'd skipped a part, "So, how much of what people were saying about you at school was true?"

Nuria laughed feebly, "About as much as the tabloids get right about you, I suspect. I was kind of out of control then. I was only a year out of college when I took the job teaching there. My life wasn't very orderly."

Quentin's eyes looked distant, "I had no idea. I never thought much about what sort of life you had outside of school at all. I think I imagined you were some latter-day Hypatia."

Nuria laughed, "I wonder if Hypatia was as purely dedicated to her craft as we believe now. It's not like we have much to go on."

Quentin gave her a mock scowl, "Bite your tongue. You're talking about the woman I love."

Nuria's chuckled, "Tough competition."

Quentin leaned in and kissed her, "Being alive and warm gives you a huge advantage over her."

Nuria leaned against him, laying her head on his shoulder, and planted a gentle kiss on his neck. Quentin kissed her forehead, "I have to tell you, this is nothing like what I used to fantasize about when I thought of you."

Nuria looked up, "Disappointed?"

Quentin shook his head emphatically, "Absolutely not. I'm far too intrigued. This is one case where the reality is far more interesting than the fantasy ever was."

Nuria felt a weight lift from her chest. Almost giddily, she kissed him again on the neck. Quentin entwined a hand in her hair, tilting her head back to kiss her full on the mouth. Nuria gave a "mmm" of approval.

"So," asked Quentin, "are you disappointed?"

Nuria closed her eyes to think, "No. Intimidated would be a better word. I'm afraid that, once the novelty of sleeping with your old teacher wears off, it'll be back to the movie stars."

Quentin kissed her more deeply, pulling her across the bench until she was pressed against him, "That doesn't sound like me at all."

                                 -=-

Later that night, they were down in Quentin's den. It was one of the few rooms in the penthouse that wasn't done in art deco style. Instead, it was done in the style of a nineteenth-century hunting lodge, all dark wood, leather, and animal skins. They lay side by side on their bellies, fully-dressed, staring into the flames of a real, live fireplace. Outside, the wind howled unheeded.

They'd spent the evening talking, touching, and kissing like they were a couple of grade-schoolers, just discovering the opposite sex. It was a process Nuria hadn't been through in about twenty years and, even then, it had been abbreviated.

"Quentin," she asked, staring into the flame, "what am I going to do about Sean?"

Quentin shrugged, "What do you want to do about Sean?"

"I don't know," admitted Nuria. "Can I tell him about us?"

Quentin's chuckle was not entirely kind, "If you want to keep it a secret, I wouldn't. I love the boy like a brother, but I'm not blind to his shortcomings. One of them is that, when he feels aggrieved, he can't shut up about it."

"And he would feel aggrieved?"

"And betrayed, most likely," said Quentin. "I'm already hearing back from mutual acquaintances that he's ranting about how I 'exiled' him to New Jersey . So, things are a little delicate right now."

Nuria sighed deeply, "So, what am I going to do about him?"

Quentin lay his arm across her shoulders and kissed her on the forehead, "You could just get him out of your system. My experience has been that women usually do within a few weeks."

Nuria frowned, "I couldn't do that...Could I?"

Quentin lay on his side and drew Nuria into his arms, "Two weeks from Monday, I'm leaving for a grueling six week Asian tour."

"Six weeks?" Nuria wailed, surprising herself with the intensity of her cry.

Quentin nodded, "I've been trying to find a good time to tell you. I've been dreading this junket for months. The book is coming out in a lot of Asian languages at the same time that we're doing advance promotion for the next movie."

"Well," said Nuria, trying to see the bright side, "at least we have two weeks before then."

Quentin nuzzled at her throat, "And I intend to take advantage of every minute of it...and of you until I go."

Nuria giggled, something she couldn't remember doing in years, "Oh, Mr. Edwards. I'm just a junior editor. I find your fame and talent so...intoxicating."

Quentin laughed and rolled Nuria onto her back, his arms bracketing her shoulders, "If you promise to be good, I'll bestow some of my incredible secrets of good writing on you."

She reached up and unbuttoned the topmost button on his shirt, "And, what if I promise to be bad?"

Quentin's hand slid up her thigh, under her skirt, "I'll bestow anything on you that your heart desires."

Nuria sighed and spread her legs, inching downward so that she could press against his fingertips. Her outer layer of clothing might be office appropriate, but underneath, she wore only her stockings and garters again.

Quentin smiled appreciatively, "So, do you always dress like this?"

She smiled up at him, "Only for these editorial meetings, Mr. Edwards, like you asked."

Quentin began undoing the buttons of her blouse with his free hand, "I like this new dress code."

Nuria laughed, "That's quite a gift you have for unbuttoning there."

Quentin's other hand pressed towards her moist center, "I have very gifted hands."

Nuria moaned her agreement. Encouraged, Quentin pressed deeper. Nuria wrapped an arm around his shoulders, encouraging him to crush her with his weight.

"Careful," he said. "I'm heavier than I look."

"I know," Nuria whispered. "I like the feeling of your weight crushing down on me."

"Are you sure? You're so petite."

"Yes," she whispered. Even Pete had been reluctant to give her this at first. Quentin pressed some of his weight down on her, still supporting himself on his knees and using his unbuttoning hand as leverage. Nuria wrapped her hands around the back of his head, pulling him down into a passionate kiss. Quentin's hand went behind her head, cradling it as he returned the kiss with ardor. At the same time, his other hand teased deeper inside of her, stroking and exploring. Nuria's hips began to rock up and down as much as she could under his crushing weight.

Nuria moaned against his mouth, drawing breath from his exhalations, knowing it wasn't oxygen-laden. Her head began to swim. The combination of his touch and the lack of air brought her to orgasm quickly.

"Nuria, did you just..."

Nuria nodded vigorously, laying her face next to his. The combination of exertion and the heat from the fire was making her sweat. Damp hair lay flat against her skull.

Quentin laughed, "I'm not sure I'm going to be able to keep up with you. I had no idea that you were such a firecracker."

Nuria laughed and reached for his belt buckle, "If I'm going to fast for you, just let me know and I'll slow down."

"Always the teacher, eh?" he asked mockingly as he lifted his hips to be free of his pants.

Nuria took the deep breath afforded her by his shift in weight, "If I were, you would be in big trouble right now, young man."

Quentin pushed her legs farther apart, her skirt rising to her waist. With each hand, he pinned one of her wrists above her head, "Oh, yeah. What are you going to do about it?"

Nuria growled, "As soon as you let me up, I'm writing you up for a lot of detention."

"Well, then," Quentin growled back, "I'd better not let you up just yet then." So saying, he slid inside of her.

Nuria moaned in pleasure and triumph. Quentin always had been a fast learner. Experimentally, she pushed up against his wrists. Quentin let her up.

"No," she said gently, "pin me. Crush me."

Quentin didn't need to be told twice. He gathered her wrists up over her head again, pinning them down, and surged forward, burying himself deep inside of her.

Nuria cried out. Quentin's face was a mask of mischief now, "Like that, Miss Delgado?"

"Oh, Quentin," she moaned. "You always were my favorite."

"You're just saying that because you're at my mercy."

"Fuck me, Quentin." Her voice was half-imploring, half-demanding. She didn't know which half he responded to, but Quentin pinned her down more aggressively, pummeling her hips with his own.

For a while, Nuria lost track of time. Both their bodies were slick with sweat. She arched her back so that she could lick some off of Quentin's neck. The bear fur sticking to her back and bottom felt wonderfully decadent.

When Quentin came inside of her, he let go of her wrists. Nuria wrapped her whole body around him, clinging body to body, relishing the feeling of their sweat mingling.

He rolled off of her, pulling her with him so that her hair fanned out across his chest. Keeping one arm firmly wrapped around her back, he said, "Miss Delgado, if I let you up, am I going to have any trouble from you?"

Nuria laughed, "Well, Quentin. That really was unacceptable behavior. I don't think I can just pretend it never happened. I'm really going to have to keep you after class"

"So," Quentin asked, his face the perfect imitation of a naughty schoolboy trying and failing to look contrite, "what will we do after class?"

Nuria kissed and nuzzled his chest, "More of the same, I hope."