Two Houses--A Novel by Suleena Bibra

Author:Suleena Bibra
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Carina Press
Published: 2021-08-25T18:16:17+00:00

Chapter Nineteen

The walls of the room are a deep, seductive red velvet damask, and they complement the contents of the room well.

Because most of the flat surfaces are covered in naked flesh. Paintings of naked men and women, sculptures of naked people, naked people going to war, naked people having a picnic, naked people having sex, and some satyrs thrown in for fun.

“Wow.” There are some red velvet damask sofas to match the walls, and I plop down on one to take in the room.

“Harrison has a sex room.” Gavin sits across from me on his own sofa, looking around the room as well.

“At least there’s no actual sex toys or ropes hanging in this sex room. That would be kind of awkward to know about a client.” I like to think I’m not a prude, since there’s a lot of nakedness and sex in the art world. We even have an annual erotic art sale for Valentine’s Day that Ajay and I take turns leading. But seeing the depth of this collection, waiting to be discovered in a random room in a house, is...unexpected.

“He has a room of porn.” Gavin’s head is on a swivel to take it all in.

“Most art is just porn plus time. Except modern artwork I guess,” I say without looking at him.

“Abstract boobies are still boobies.”

I snort. “Can you jerk off to abstract boobies?”

“I can try.” Figures.

We keep looking at the works around us. It’s a truly impressive collection, in quantity and quality.

“I think a lot about what would happen if we weren’t heirs of competing houses,” Gavin says, bringing up the subject he began last night. “Maybe if we were coworkers who worked at the same Big Two House, we would go out to a happy hour on a Friday after work.”

Do I think about if we weren’t trapped in these positions? Only when he does something to make me horny. Which is almost every time I see the bastard, lately.

“You would probably ignore me for the prettier, better-at-flirting lady standing next to me.”

“No, I wouldn’t. I would have approached you at the bar and asked to buy you a drink.”

“I would have told you that I could buy my own drinks.”

“Or you could buy me one; I’m easy.”

“All of New York City knows,” I murmur to myself. Louder, I say, “I wouldn’t have bought you a drink either, moocher.”

“And then, after we each bought our own drinks, I would have tried to impress you by telling you how much art I can move in one night.”

“Then I would have pointed out that I can move more.” Competitive till the very end, even if we were on the same team.

“I would have given in, because I’m trying to seduce you. And the play to your ego would have worked.” His voice gets deeper and I feel it reverberating throughout my whole body, reaching places that I’m not comfortable he can access.

“Maybe,” I say, as honest as I am competitive. “But what would you have done with that victory?” I ask, curious about where he’s going with this.

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