Chapter 4: She Touch Me Deeply

By Antoine

I got on my private jet and arrived quickly. That jet was a great investment.

I wasn't in a hurry because I was eager to see my wife, but I don't think I even remembered her.

I did miss my son.

Sometimes, I wondered if he was really mine.

He didn't resemble me or his mother, but she never gave me reason to doubt her.

I wasn't perfect, and I didn't want to get involved in anything that might make me look bad.

I got home, and my wife wasn't there. She must have been at a beauty salon or a fancy café, looking perfect as always.

My little boy dropped what he was holding and came running to be picked up.

I showered him with kisses; he was an innocent child who didn't have his mother's affection.

He was with a babysitter who, from what I could tell, wasn't very affectionate with him either.

I didn't want her to replace her mother, but it wouldn't hurt for her to receive some kisses, hugs, or maybe a little pampering and affection.

I tried to talk to the girl about it, and I felt like she was flirting with me.

Not that—in my house, he was the perfect gentleman.

That bothered me. She was an employee hired to care exclusively for my son.

"Miss, if you don't have the qualifications to care for a two-year-old, I suggest you look for a different job."

"The lady is happy with my performance; maybe the gentleman wants something more..."

"You're wrong. You're hired to care for my son."

"I'm sorry."

The next day, I would look for another nanny.

My wife arrived.

I looked at her. She was truly beautiful, distinguished, elegant, and perfect. Her makeup was perfect for the occasion, and she always dressed well. She looked like a fashion model. Her body was perfect, and her face looked like porcelain.

I just wanted to show her off. She inspired nothing more than the desire to take her by the arm so that strangers I didn't care about would say, "What a lucky guy—look at the beautiful woman by his side."

She didn't come over to kiss me or say hello.

We hadn't seen each other in three weeks.

I walked over to her and kissed her on the lips.

That was it. With my wife, there was nothing more.

I remembered those lips that excited me; with her, I wouldn't have settled for just that—I would have embraced her and kissed her until we were out of breath—but my wife wasn't Alice; she didn't excite me at all.

I went up to our bedroom, took a shower, and the warm water relaxed me a little.

We had dinner while she told me about the social events we'd have to attend together.

I just nodded.

She didn't ask me about my trip; she only wanted to know if I had closed the deal.

I told her I'd bought a house; she'd much rather stay at a hotel because she'd be able to socialize more.

"I want to have dogs, but they're not allowed in a hotel."

"There are a lot of dogs in the countryside."

"But I like to feel like I have company."

"Whatever you want."

I told her about our son's nanny. My wife didn't even know her name, so she didn't care if we replaced her.

My wife and I get along well because we don't have any problems.

We're basically just partners, and that's about it.

I have no plans to break up; we're the perfect couple.

I had been in Portland for a week.

I really wanted to have sex. I'm not sure why. Maybe it was because I kept thinking about Alice's beautiful face. Or maybe it was because of the kisses she gave me. Or maybe it was because it had been a long time since I had been with my wife.

I went up to Chloe, my wife, and touched her. She let me—her head didn't hurt, nor did her lower back.

I kissed her more passionately than usual, and I grabbed her breast—she was still in great shape, despite having had Chris and being 30 years old.

She was beautiful, but when I tried to have oral sex with her, she stopped me.

"If you want to have sex, go ahead, but don't drool all over me—you know I don't like that. Let's just do it and be done with it."

It's always the same. I have no idea what she's thinking when she's with me.

It was just a formality for her.

I remembered how wet I felt through Alice's underwear. What could she be doing?

Her breasts and nipples are very arousing.

I put on a condom and had sex with Chloe, who barely returned the occasional caress.

I had an orgasm, and I had to bite my tongue to keep from saying Alice's name.

I fell asleep without trying anything else; once was enough for me.

Chloe would have rejected me if I'd insisted on doing it again.

I think she knows about my other relationships in Los Angeles.

They're not actually affairs. I just hire a few prostitutes or have the occasional casual encounter.

For me, sex is always important, but for Chloe, it's not even close to the top of her list.

My perspective changed when I met Alice.

I don't know if we'll get along in bed, either. Maybe it'll all end after the first time.

"Stop lying to yourself, Antoine," I told myself.

I had to stay for three weeks because some contracts took a while to sign, a client coming from the south was delayed, and so on.

I really wanted to return to Los Angeles.

It had been more than 20 days since I'd seen Alice, which shouldn't matter that much to me—I'd only seen her twice in my life.

The truth is, I really wanted her; I couldn't wait to be with her.

As time went on, I started to feel more and more anxious. I wanted to feel the way I did when I was with her, but I didn't want anyone else.

As soon as I arrived in Los Angeles, I met with the real estate agent. I signed all the remaining documents, and in a week, they would hand over the house to me.

It was a good investment.

I would hire someone to clean and take care of the house when I'm not there.

On my next trip, I'll bring back two of the black-coated puppies. One of my dogs had a litter.

They were purebred.

I spent my time shopping for my new house.

I bought some equipment for my home gym and ordered furniture, beds, armchairs, a dining table, chairs, and more.

It took a week for everything to be delivered because I paid for everything in advance. I know that's not usually done, because if I had to make a complaint, they probably wouldn't be very helpful or wouldn't care. However, I bought most of the items through a client, so I didn't expect any problems with the deliveries or the quality of the furniture.

I would buy the major appliances, like refrigerators and stoves, as soon as I got the keys to the house.

I really wanted to move into a house—alone or with my dogs.

On Tuesday afternoon, I called Alice.

"Hi, beautiful."

"I'm beautiful, but who would you like to talk to?"

A voice you don't recognize says.

I smiled at the reply.

"Alice, please."

"I'll call you back."

Thanks.

"If you're as handsome as your voice, you and your beautiful Alice make a lovely couple."

I laughed because the girl who helped me was so nice.

"Hi..."

Now I was sure—it was her, the one who'd been keeping me up at night.

"Hi, Alice, it's Antoine. I'm back; I'm in Los Angeles."

"How are you doing?" she asked, sounding happy.

He said, "I want to see you."

I replied without hesitation.

"It's going to be hard for me this week."

She said this, sounding upset and a little guilty.

"Can you skip college?"

"Tomorrow is the right day."

Her voice shook as she replied.

-"Okay, I'll pick you up from work. Send me the address, please."

I couldn't wait to see her again, to kiss her, to make her mine.

However, I had to wait one more day.

The next day, I couldn't control my anxiety; I don't understand what's happening to me.

During the day, I spoke with a few clients and took care of some minor issues, but I wasn't thinking clearly.

Fifteen minutes before our agreed-upon time, I was already waiting for her.

I saw her come out talking with a girl. Before she reached me, they said hello, and the girl walked off in the other direction. But not before she looked me up and down—she was either studying me or trying to paint a portrait of me.

"Hi..."

Alice said shyly, blushing—maybe she knew what I was going to ask her.

I understood.

We got into my car, and I saw her hands clutching the strap of her purse, and I tried not to smile.

I really wanted to hold her.

Before leaving, I looked for her lips—they were as sweet as honey—and I kept kissing her until we were out of breath. She kissed me back. I love those lips.

I started the car because otherwise I was going to cause a scene right at the entrance to her workplace.

"Are you off today, or are you skipping college?"

"I'm skipping class..."

She looked away; she must have been thinking the same thing I was.

"Ali... Can we go to a hotel? I promise we won't do anything you don't want to do. It's just so we can be more comfortable, talk, and get to know each other better."

"I've never stayed in a hotel before."

She said it, blushing.

"No one's going to see you—I promise."

I thought to myself, "Wow, there are so many promises. You'd better stop making promises."

I don't want anything to happen.

"I promise I'll stop kissing you whenever you want me to."

I'm such a jerk.

He looked at me, and his gaze felt like he was looking right into my soul.