Plaza Erotica by Gia Sola

Author:Gia Sola
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Sex, devil, good vs evil, fantasy, games, domination, submission, paranormal, power, control, rules, memories, menage a trois, sapphic love, new york, paris, house of erotica
ISBN: 9781782341239
Publisher: Andrews UK
Published: 2012-07-04T04:00:00+00:00

Blondie

It seemed a lifetime ago, the weekend in Paris when she’d gone to witness a marriage made in Heaven. Or was it Hell? She wasn’t sure. Either way, it was hot. She’d been there at the beginning, or so it seemed. But she couldn’t be certain of anything when it came to those two, who’d generated so much heat between them they were bound to burn themselves up. Although not yet.

Ten years later, they’re still sizzling and living in France, and Wendy is still envious. Go, and be happy, she’d told Maya, but remember whom you leave shackled by love. She’d quoted Sappho more than once over the course of their brief erotic relationship. She’d felt so much power in those days. But with so much having either fallen away or fallen apart over the decade - the collapsed friendships, the misdirected career path, the love affairs that either ran out of steam or, worse, time, and now the fading beauty that comes with the loss of youth - she’s feeling powerless, alone, and invisible.

She sometimes thinks about her pillow talk with Maya, whose goal had been to achieve something larger than herself. She wonders why she’d never felt that same sense of purpose, why sex had loomed so large in her life, and why today she had a heart full of love but nowhere to put it. They were questions she didn’t want to ponder - as if it were too late. And yet, the questions were always on her mind.

She’s staring into the mirror behind the bar, thinking about her perceived invisibility, when she hears someone say her name.

“Wendy, darling, the couple over there wants to buy you a drink.” The bartender rolls his eyes as he picks up her empty glass. “You want another dirty martini to help you finish that club sandwich?”

She turns to see a businessman buried in his Blackberry; then looks across the way to locate the couple. They’re sitting against each other at the end of the bar. The man puts his forefinger to his temple and salutes her. He’s wearing a tuxedo. The red-haired woman is caressing the back of his neck. She nods at Wendy.

It’s two o’clock in the afternoon on a Friday. Tourists, Wendy thinks, still all dressed up from their first night on the town in the big city, looking for something in a neighborhood bar. She wonders what that is.

“Sure,” she says, smiling at the handsome twosome.

They were in their late 30’s, jewelers from Chicago combining a business trip with pleasure, and they were staying across town at the Plaza. They stay at Plaza hotels all over the world, they told her, after she moved to sit beside them. They engaged in a lively (and somewhat lascivious) conversation, taking Wendy out of her serious, introspective mood. After an hour, she had them figured out. And they must’ve figured her too, because when she mentioned her friends in France, they told her if she wanted to play and was

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