They were booked under Senhora Red.
Elated, Taddy gifted Kiki with a bonus—an appointment with Dr. Hugo Fassenbender to get her breasts augmented. New cleavage proved the least she could do. Although Taddy’s came from Mother Nature, she identified with a girl’s desire to have a power set, especially since she’d learned Kiki had wanted a pair. She often referred Dr. Fassenbender at her leisure.
Aside from being the best breast doctor in town, Dr. Fassenbender hailed from Berlin. His patients raved about the precision of his surgical incisions, which rarely scarred. According to the salesgirls at Bergdorf Goodman who sold him his leather accessories, he was also a Dom in the BDSM community. She hoped Hugo would help put Kiki in touch with her sexuality. Maybe tying the Utah virgin up and giving her a good whipping would be asking for the kitchen sink, but new breasts? Those her black American Express card made doable.
With Taddy’s and Lex’s schedules booked, seat assignments ticketed and hotel reservations made, everything was confirmed jet-set-fabulous for New Year’s Eve in Algarve.
Until Lex’s mother Birdie Easton did her usual.
Chapter Three
Banging Birdie
December 21
Upper East Side, New York, NY
Getting laid ranked high on Taddy’s New Year’s resolutions. She also wished for a tighter ass, but that was farther down on her agenda. The solution for both was found in another hot man, not her cosmetic surgeon, Dr. Fassenbender, but Gilad Oseary, owner of Gilad’s Pilates Studio. Burnt out on lip-gloss marketing for the day, she treated Lex and Vive to an early evening workout. Blake had declined, saying gays didn’t do Pilates. Taddy, however, was determined not to gain an ounce over the holidays.
Gilad, you are flippin’ sexy. His arms flexed thicker than his legs. Gilad’s legs stood more solid than his sculpted chest. And his chest sported a T-shirt two sizes too tight for his body. It revealed his muscular pecs. In his mid-twenties, Gilad had emigrated from somewhere in the Middle East. Fluent in French, he claimed to be Persian, perhaps from Iran. Wherever he came from, his militant style to push clients’ bodies from flab to fab was orgasmic. Or at least Taddy thought so.
“Ladies, let’s pull into our lower body and focus.” With no shame, Gilad directed his view between Taddy’s legs.
I need sex. Please, Gilad. You’re making love to me with your demands and those eyes staring right through my body…
“Good girl, Taddy.” He grinned as if reading her mind. She arched her heel and slipped it into the strap.
“Like this?”
“Ahuh.” He nodded.
“And this?” She split her legs wide.
His jaw dropped.
“It burns. My muscles are tight—so tense,” Taddy flirted. She pressed her back into the Pilates board, the rubber bands snapped in the air, her legs stretched out.
“Put your energy into your core, ladies. Come on, let’s do this.”
Taddy’s energy was on his core, caressing her core. She went into a helicopter position and twisted her legs up. Her focus wasn’t on her body but his as she stared at his cock. Either he’d grown hard or wore a cup. Lips licked, he studied her face with encouragement to continue. “I want you, Gilad,” she whispered.
“Lex!” Gilad shouted over Taddy’s station. That broke her soon-to-be workout climax.
“Huh?” Lex mumbled behind her.
“Why aren’t you following along?” In a pissed-off stance, Gilad stalked over to her.
Taddy took her eyes off Gilad-lusting and glanced in Lex’s direction.
Not flexed, her best wasn’t paying any attention. Perhaps in another world, Lex’s face spoke worry. It wasn’t over the exercise. Hell, when Lex was a kid she’d struggled with her weight. Now in her late twenties Lex made fitness her focus. The woman could teach Pilates if she so desired. She didn’t. Lex lived and breathed fashion. Her Easton Essentials apparel business was a hit, thus her funk wasn’t over haute couture. “What is Lex’s problem?” Taddy mouthed to Vive.
Not condoning exercise, Vive sipped on her happy hour, aka a gin and tonic. Between gulps, she coated her nails in Baden Cosmetics’ popular toe lacquer, Gold Jizz. Arching her eyebrow, she motioned with her lips, “I dunno. But somethin’ is up.” Vive slid her nail file along her left wrist in a mock suicide. With Lex always came drama.
After the fifty-minute session, Taddy walked over to Gilad while Lex pulled herself together. Vive waited at the door with her second cocktail in hand.
“Do you give private home lessons?” The erotic man-smell from his body made her clench her thighs together.
“Yes. Why?”
“Gilad, I need you.”
“Now?”
“Tonight, when I get home from a party.” Screw me pah-lease.
“My rates double for after hours.”
“I bet they do.” Taddy hoped he wasn’t flirting with her just for her riches. She didn’t pay for sex. Not blatantly at least. Tonight she’d be sure to find out exactly if Gilad’s intentions went beyond Pilates. “Let’s not let a little thing called money stand between us. I like to think large. Very large.”
Gilad stepped close to Taddy. “Me too.” Ever so slightly, he grazed his hardness against her stomach. The body contact and the implied suggestion sent a chill up her spine. She didn’t jump back—rather leaned in close to him.
“Taddy, let’s go,” Lex snapped. In a call for her attention, she clapped her hands.
“One sec, darling.” Taddy shot Vive a look to rein in their moody friend.
He turned his back to the rest of the girls and faced Taddy more intimately. “I’m free after ten.” Gilad adjusted himself, grinned and asked, “Shall I come by your penthouse, Miss Brill, for a home lesson then?”
“Yes.” Taddy winked and slipped him her card with the details on the back. “Here’s my address.”
“Can’t wait.”
“I’ll tell my butler to expect you.”
“Hello, I’m out of here,” Lex blurted extra bitchily. She waved her goodbyes to Gilad and pushed on the front door.
Taddy followed Vive, who walked a few feet behind Lex, one block over to Juice Press on Third Avenue and East Sixty-Second Street for their liquid dinner. They didn’t talk. Once they received their shakes and sat at a café table, Taddy asked, “Lex, is there anything you wanna tell us?”