Aris and Evangeline - The Dinner Party

After returning from their ride, Evangeline entered the kitchen to assess what was available. The women and cook were surprised by her presence. With a few kind words, she was able to convince them to allow her intrusion on their domain. Dressed in an old skirt and peasant blouse, she went to work on the menu. The women were shocked when she had gone out to the chicken coop and nabbed herself a plump hen, broke its neck then plucked its feathers, all without help. She had raided Aristotle's wine cellar, which she was most impressed by, retrieving a good red wine to cook with. The cook was impressed by her selection of seasonings and how she marinated the bird in oranges and wine.

The smells rising from the stove had drawn other servants. As she whipped the potatoes and sauteed the vegetables, Evangeline carried on a lively conversation with the servants. They told jokes and kept one another splendid company. She had even made enough for the whole house to enjoy, which everyone did. At one point, she had beg Jacques to pick up some passion fruit for her dessert. The valet was puzzled by the request for the particular fruit, but quickly made a journey down the road, where a neighbor grew the fruit.

She went to work cutting them in halves then scraping and mashing the fruit. The glorious aroma did things to the senses of all around, which made Evangeline giggle in delight. The cook stole a taste of the mixture and almost fell to the floor in ecstasy.

"Madame Montiero, what is in this concoction? It is decadent yet light," the man demanded.

"Just fruit and cream - with a hint of lust."

They all laughed merrily as she scooped some into a small, decorative serving bowl with a garnish of strawberries and sliced passion fruit. She gazed at her lavish menu and nodded her approval. The servants all agreed her hard work had yielded perfection.

"We have the rest, Madame. Go on and dress for dinner." Jacques encouraged helping her from her apron.

"What? You don't find this a fitting assemble for dinner."

"I'm sure Monsieur Beauvois will not notice what you have on with this lavish meal before him, but you will."

"Ah, you know me well, Jacques." With that, Evangeline ran out of the kitchen.


Aristotle sat at the table, staring at the food before him. It seemed endless. Here he had been under the mistaken impression that he would get a simple meal, but no, he had underestimated his Evangeline. She had gone the distance by supplying him a bounty. Servant after servant brought in trays layered with all kinds of dishes. Aside from the chicken, she had made fish paired with a bed of saffron rice. Potatoes and vegetables in every shade and cut. He eyed Jacques suspiciously, who simply smiled at his employer as each plate was laid before him.

"Jacques, who helped with-"

"Not a single servant. Madame Montiero was like a hurricane in the kitchen. All these dishes are her doing." He assured the man. Suddenly, a knock at the door resounded taking the valet away. He returned moments later with Eloise and Jean in tow. Both stared wide eyed at the table, then they met Aristotle's confused look, which quickly turned on Jacques demanding explanation.

"Well, since she had gone overboard in the kitchen, she decided you would need help. Excuse me."

Eloise came over to greet the disgruntled Aristotle. "Oh, let it go, Aris. She meant well."

"Apparently, that isn't what has Aristotle in a tizzy." Jean observed taking a seat by his friend. It seemed their serious argument had quickly faded to the background per usual. "I take it she hasn't relented. In fact, she's deflecting."

Aristotle glared daggers at his soon to be ousted guest.

"What do you mean, Jean?" Eloise demanded also taking her seat across from her husband.

"It means Captain Monroe is far more astute than Monsieur Beauvois."

Everyone turned to stare at the visage of beauty coming through the doors. Evangeline had donned a lovely dark violet sleeveless gown of the richest satin that molded to her frame gorgeously. Her long hair was pulled atop of her head allowing it to spill down her back in spirally curls. Upon her ears and neck were a matching set of blazing and twinkling diamonds and amethyst stones, which lightened the color of her eyes seductively. Both men were enthralled by her ethereally wicked look. Eloise was beside herself with awe.

"Evangeline, you look stunning." She gushed. "Had I known I would've-"

Evangeline tsked the woman before she went any further. "Believe me, I'm kicking myself for not keeping on my peasant's garb."

Eloise giggled understanding her drift all too clearly. "Now, what is this that I hear you cooked this lavish meal?"

"Every morsel. So please, enjoy." Evangeline's eyes lit on Aristotle.

He was handsomely attired in his dark, dinner jacket. His hair had been freshly plaited gleaming against the candle light. His look was priceless. He was annoyed, but hard pressed to say anything with their guests present. Evangeline settled into her chair. She could feel the heat of his stare. There wasn't complete anger, lust lurked beneath the surface as well.

Dinner was lovely and lively. Jean mercilessly teased his friend, while Eloise and Evangeline exchanged cooking and style tips. The time had simply passed with no one the wiser until a loud slam drew their notice. All eyes turned toward the dinning room doors as the slow click of footsteps tightened the air in the room. Eloise grew very uncomfortable. Evangeline noticed and grew increasingly miffed that her guest should be made to feel this way. Jean's hands had balled into a fist. He was no more happy with the new arrival than anyone else. Even Aristotle was on edge. What terror would she bring to the table?

"Well, well. A dinner party. How lovely." Madeline sneered slithering into the room unwelcomed.

"It's a small affair, Maddy." Aristotle hinted firmly.

"Oh. Is it?" She sauntered closer to Jean, running a finger along his shoulder, which he stiffly plucked away. Her eyes flitted from each person before she took a seat directly next to Jean. The twit was determined to make a scene. Evangeline glanced at Aristotle pointedly, but he was too concerned with the trouble brewing beside him.

"How are you, Jean? I see you're still with your cow."

Eloise flushed angrily, but stayed mum. Jean was furious on his wife's behalf, but dared not do anything for fear of Madeline's retaliation.

"Better a pristine lady than a withering whore."

Gasps circled the room and turned toward the head of the table. But Evangeline's eyes were locked with Madeline's. She knew what the girl was about, had seen the play one too many times. She needed to draw her barbs to her to deflect from the couple.

"And you would know, Madame Montiero."

"If you think so, Madeline. But at least I have had the good sense to keep track of my lovers."

"Evangeline." The growl surfaced from the other side of the table drawing everyone's eyes to Aristotle.

Madeline immediately used it. "I told you, Aris. She keeps attacking me unprovoked."

"You wouldn't know an attack unless it slept with you."

The barb caused Eloise to burst in laughter, which drew Madeline's notice. Fire sparked in her dark eyes. Evangeline cringed and tried desperately to draw her back, but it was too late. Madeline grabbed for the nearest utensil, a knife, and was about to do damage when long fingers wrapped about her wrist firmly. She followed them to their owner and met with the fierce glare of Jean Monroe. He seethed angry, but controlled himself. Squeezing her wrist painfully, he forced the chit to drop the silverware.

"Eloise, let us go. The time grows late and my patience grows thin." His voice was strained, holding back the rage. A deathly threat spoke volumes behind his words as he rose to collect his wife. Never taking his eyes off Madeline, who had lost all color in her pallor, he bid everyone goodnight. "Aristotle, I'll see you tomorrow at the docks."

"First thing." Aristotle answered staring at his sister with brotherly concern and chastisement. The air had grown increasingly stuffier. Evangeline had watched the play of emotions on Madeline's face. She had gone from spitting harlot to brokenhearted school girl in mere minutes. Did the girl still carry a torch for Monroe? Had she realized she'd gone too far tonight with threatening the woman who holds his heart? No wonder the girl was bitter. Mistakes were hard to swallow.

Jacques came into the salon with the servants to clear the dishes and trays. The remaining occupants seemed frozen staring at one another. Evangeline knew Madeline was not through yet. She had felt slighted, maligned and she wanted vengeance. She was more than prepared, but was Aristotle. Madeline's eyes drew to Evangeline's and the fire sparked again.

"This is all your fault!"

"Really? And please tell me how it is." Evangeline swished her wine waiting for her answer.

"Aristotle knows Jean is not allowed anywhere near my son."

"Do you even know where your son is?" Evangeline countered leaning closer.

The girl sputtered furiously. "I want her removed, Aristotle. I'm your sister, she's just some slut from a backward island-"

Suddenly, the slap that came sent the girl flying to the floor clutching her cheek. Aristotle looked at his sister then Evangeline who towered over her with fury in her eyes. "Maybe everyone else will take your foolishness, but I'm cut of a different cloth. I've withstood your calling me a slut for the last time. Especially since you know nothing about me or my past. You've played the philandering victim for far too long. I know your type. Seen your kind one too many times. And the story gets old. You sell yourself to the highest bidder, sucking the poor fellow dry with wants and needs, then come crying to brother dear to take care of you when they cast you out on your ass once they've tired of you."

With each barb, Evangeline had drawn closer to Madeline, forcing the girl to scoot back across the floor. "You have a beautiful son whom you are jealous of because he is loved by all despite having come from you. In your spite, you give the boy a name that clearly is a dig to the real father and insult to the fake one. What's worse is you still fancy yourself in love with the father when he could careless if you live or die, because he's in love with a woman who truly loves him as he deserves. And that just makes you even more bitter. What's more they would make far better parents to your boy than you, since clearly you find him a nuisance and a bother. Have I pretty much summed it up?"

Evangeline had Madeline backed up in a corner staring wide eyed at her. She had laid out all her sins and faults at her feet. Something that had never been done before. True, her mother had nagged her constantly about her path and her brother had tried to curb her, but something in what the woman said painted an awful picture of her life. "Here's a bit of advice, Maddy, that was once bestowed on me: If you don't crawl out of this pit of drudgery and disillusionment you've fallen into you, you are going to wake up cold, alone and bitter. Your looks will be useless. Your brain will fail you. And your asking price will be worthless. Now, if that doesn't scare you, you truly are hopeless."

With that said Evangeline stormed from the room without so much as a backwards glance. Tears streamed down the young woman's face. She was well and truly wounded. She sheepishly turned her eyes toward Aristotle who was staring at the empty doorway. Sliding back up the wall, she attempted to straighten the wrinkles in her dress.

"Aristotle, I will be leaving for mama's in the morning." Her voice was a mere whisper as she slowly walked to the door. "I think I need time there."

"I think that is wise, Madeline." He agreed still staring at the doorway, now filled with his sister.

"I am sorry." She stated before disappearing out the room, leaving Aristotle to ponder Evangeline's words.


Evangeline paced the veranda like a pent up animal. The fury choked at her throat. She had never wanted to throttle someone so much. Stopping in her tracks, she leaned against the railing to catch her breath. Memories had come flooding back. She had been in pretty much the same state as Madeline; balled into a corner, holding her cheek and her wounded pride. Senora Amelia Volta had given her the throttling of a lifetime that night. She had been her idol, had taken her under her wing, teaching her how to be a lady, a courtesan. But when she had met Anwar her senses had flown and she had begun to act out foolishly. She had turned schemer, manipulator and spurned her mentor's stern advice until one day she had gone too far.

Amelia had been dead set against Evangeline's plot to get with child to keep Anwar. She knew Anwar's type: seduce a foolish girl, treat her like she was the only one, then leave her with the baggage. Amelia knew because she had her son, Sharif, as evidence of her foolishness. She had wanted to spare her. So, she taught Evangeline a harsh lesson. She'd seduced Anwar into her bed with the express purpose of having Evangeline catch her. She wanted her to understand she meant nothing to the cad and never would. Evangeline and she had fought mercilessly, but the older woman had won out that night and had dispensed the same advice to her that she had given Madeline. Only later did she recall Amelia's other warning.

"Evangeline, you are far too smart and far too beautiful to allow a man to ruin you," she'd scolded. "For now, enjoy them like toys and desserts - in moderation. One day, you will encounter a man who will be your contemporary and you'll want to grow old with him. Just don't be too stupid to pass him by, because of what you've seen of these fools."

Those words echoed in her head as she stared into the moonlight above. Was this what she was doing with Aristotle? Was she foolishly lumping him in with the likes of Anwar and Arnoldo? The hour had grown far too late and the chill of the night crept into her bones. As she crossed her arms, another stronger set embraced her. His scent quickly filled her nose, making her dizzy with desire. She had not heard him approach for she had been so deep in her thoughts, but now, she was fully aware of him. The strains of the clock in the hall faintly drifted to her ears echoing midnight. The new day had come.

"Madeline will be leaving for the country tomorrow."

"Aris, I apologize for overstepping my bounds."

He lifted a hand to her lips to quiet her next words. "For years I had been trying to help my sister, but I guess you were right. I was simply sheltering her, allowing her to get away with murder." He pushed back a strand from her face. "That was some tough advice you threw at her."

"A wise courtesan had imparted them to me." She sighed, clutching the lapels of his coat. "I've lived my life by them every since."

He leaned into her, forcing her to rest against the granite, his arms pinning her on both sides. "The new day has come."

"You heard that did you," she chuckled, leaning closer.

He nodded slowly. His lips grazed her neck, sending shivers down her back. His fingers traced the line of her spine, drawing her body closer to his. "I believe this is on par with our agreement."

She smiled that smile he loved as her arms wrapped about his neck. Aristotle, not wanting to waste a moment, swooped her into his arms and brought her back inside. Evangeline's eyes noted the serving bowl of dessert sitting on the nightstand. She raised a curious brow toward him.

"Aris, why is there a bowl of the maracuya there?"

Scooping a bit on his fingertip, he traced the concoction across her lips, then licked it off with his tongue. "My dear, Eve, I was so very impressed with this treat that I could not resist having more."

His fingers worked deftly on the hooks at her back, removing them with ease, along with her underthings. Within minutes, Evangeline had been stripped of her finery and stood naked and unabashed before him. Her body was a work of art in its nude state. From the sexy curvature of her back to the fullness of her bosom and buttocks to the lengthiness of her limbs, she was perfection - and his - for now.

He hoisted the bowl into his hand, dipping a long finger into the cream. He planted a dollop on each of her pert nipples; the coolness making Evangeline tingle. Then he began to create an interesting pattern of the mixture all over her body, leaving her to imagine just where he would start his journey. Once he had been satisfied, he turned her about to survey his handiwork.

"Now, that's a treat," he commented moving from side to side admiring her.

"I assume you will be cleaning me up."

He nodded his head, smirking wickedly. "Oh, I'll clean you up. Gladly."

He stepped back and started to remove his clothes, slowly; his eyes never leaving Evangeline's. They revealed so much in their dark depths. Pent up passion. Lust long denied. Unrequited desire. They caressed her more than his hand had just now. This was what a day without sex with this man was like? she pondered.  How would she fair when she went home? She cringed thinking about it and quickly pushed the thought aside.

She could feel her body respond to the sight of his nakedness. He was the perfect specimen of male. His broad shoulders were her favorite. They appeared to be strong enough to lift the world upon them. The intricate details of the muscles running down his arms and into his hands were a sculptor's paradise. His hips were lean, but his thigh muscles were bugling putting his manhood on blatant display. All this was covered in the richest dark skin she'd ever seen. Satin in appearance yet tough like soft leather. She loved running her fingers and tongue over it again and again, taking in the spicy smells and taste.

He moved closer to her, tightening the knot of anticipation in her belly. Would his hand or tongue touch her first? Her tingles grew stronger as she felt his breath flutter over her sensitive skin. He reached for her hair and rubbed it between his fingers examining each strand like it was spun gold. Her locks were like no other. It was vibrant and alive with earthly and heavenly tones that always smelled perfumed in fresh flower petals. He leaned in to inhale the scent, his chest heaving upward, drawing her admiring eye.

Unable to resist, Evangeline spread her fingers across his pecs taking in the muscles beneath. Her thumbs flicked over his already tightened nipples, which made her hungry for a taste. But just as she leaned in, Aristotle had coiled her hair about his hand, holding her prone. She glanced up with confusion, but was blown away by the look in his eyes. There was determination firmly set in them, a deep longing that tightened her throat. It was so intense, it stilled her heart.

"Tonight, you are not allowed to touch or taste," he ordered.

She smiled slowly. "Really now."

"Oh, yes. And if I have to, I will tie you down."

Her breath caught in her throat and she could feel a flood of desire pool between her thighs. "I guess I have no recourse but to comply."

He nodded sternly as he lowered his head to her breasts and licked the cream concoction covering her nipples. She flinched in pleasure. His tongue had been a jolt, soothed quickly when his lips surrounded the bud. The suckling motion drew Evangeline onto a cloud. Her breathing stilted with each twirl of his tongue. She tried her hardest not to wrap her arms about him, but it was growing harder by the second. He soon abandoned the first breast for the second and repeated the same treatment, tightening the coil further.

"Aris." Her raspy breath touched his skin as he wrapped his arms about her. The tips of his plaits grazed her skin like extra fingers. It felt so exquisite. Soon, she was hoisted up, her hands falling to her sides, fighting not to reach for him. He laid her across the bed gingerly. Glancing down her body, her eyes drew to his apex and the rigid beast waiting there. Her mouth watered forcing her to swallow hard on the need to taste it. It was the worst temptation. Seeing her longing made Aristotle smile.

"Hungry, Eve?"

She rested her head back staring up at the netting over the bed. "Very," she sighed wistfully.

He leaned over, nudging at the base of her breast. His tongue began a torturous path down her body, lapping up the cream. Each rib bone was treated to his attention as he wiped them clean before he dipped into the hollow of her drenched navel. Her hands immediately reached for him only to be locked up by his.

"Eve." He purred in warning forcing a frustrated sigh from her lips.

At last, he had reached her slick alcove covered in a thick sheen of desire. He inhaled the sent deeply, savoring her essence before going in for a sip. Evangeline's moan was music to his ears. He loved that she appreciated his efforts. Her thighs splayed further apart yielding the bloom of her clit. His tongue darted quickly over it, causing her hips to rise in response. She'd been scorched and wanted more.

"Oh, Aris. You'll undo me."

"That is my every intention." He blew softly on the folds making her body shiver before dipping back in for a better taste. He ran his randy tongue over the hot, swollen lips tempting them to the edge. He gently nipped them inciting tremors in her legs. He would not make the mistake he had made in the townhouse. His fingers were firmly laced around her wrists and he could feel her wresting against the bonds. "You won't be able to tempt me this time, Evangeline."

She moaned in protest as she tried to pull her wrists free. She didn't want to beg, had never needed to in the past. In practically no time, Aristotle had learned all her pleasure zones and used them to his advantage. A feat that would have taken her usual lovers months to discover. She reveled in both his gentle and rough play. The way his hands explored her body, unveiling new and more sensitive locations that wrung passion from her. He knew how to cherish her and that's what scared her. Almost without any effort he could claim her heart and she'd be helpless to resist. Amelia's words echoed in her head again, but she refused to give them credence. A delicious tremor ran through her body when his tongue penetrated her depths, forcing her head to rear back allowing a tortured moan to fall out her mouth. Soon, her hips gyrated against it, substituting it for the real thing.

"Aristotle, please!" She strained more against her bonds.

He yanked her forward, twirling her about to face away from him. His lips rested against her ears, licking the lobes. "I'm sorry, Evangeline, but I find I cannot resist you in this state."

She squirmed against his body, rubbing her buttocks against his member. His stomach stiffened from the contact and he gently bit down on her shoulder to quell the groan in his throat. Lifting her up, he sat down on the bed behind her, cradling her in front of him. Her head fell back against his shoulders seeking his lips, but he denied her. Still holding her wrists captive he used them to spread her thighs apart, draping them over his own outstretched one. She arched her back in pleasure, feeling the cool air touch her drenched bare skin down there. Aristotle watched her writhe before him, loving each sway of her frame.

"What would you like me to do, Evangeline?" he rasped against her ears.

"Let me touch you."

"I'm sorry. I cannot do that."

She tried pounding her fists in frustration but his fingers gave no leverage to her. "Then touch me."

"Where?" he implored in a hush whisper.

She swallowed hard. He would make her say it, wanted to hear her say it. He was wicked. She could already feel the hollow swell further, feel the maelstrom of juice spill. "There," she pleaded drawing his hands to her quim.

Without releasing her wrist, his finger grazed across the fold. "Here?"

A hiss sizzled between her teeth. "Yes!"

"And how about here?" The finger grazed the other fold, causing her to bite down on her lip to stifle a cry.

She nodded in response. Tears of pleasure stung her golden eyes. He was torturing her and she was loving every second of it. Raising his knees up, he stretched her further apart, drawing their hands further down.

"I think I know exactly where you want to be touched," he deduced seductively before plunging his long finger deep within her. "Here."

A strained whimper bounced about the room as Evangeline fought the tremors racking her body. His name fell from her lips in rapid succession as he plunged again and again into her body adding another finger, varying the speeds to catch her hips rhythm.

"Scream for me, Eve."

She couldn't stop if she tried and he relished it like a well sung opera. His eyes could not stop watching her. His heart had swelled hearing her echo his name. His fingers could feel the strains of her inner muscles milking them, crushing the bones. He wanted to feel that on another member. Lifting her slightly, he filled her silken hollow with his rigid flesh, stretching more ecstasy into her. His cheek rubbed against her back, savoring the feeling of her quivering flesh against his.

"Ah, Evangeline." He sighed as he gently bounced her up and down upon his manhood.

Pressure began to build once again in her, intensifying the tingles tenfold. It was barely minutes before she could feel herself shattering again, moaning her pleasures. "Oh God, Aris, please don't stop. Take me over."

Pushing her forward onto her knees, he pummeled her recesses. She could feel the smoothness of his rod as it probed her depths, teasing the tiny bud. His fingers coiled in her hair, tugging it out of the way so he could kiss her neck. "I don't think I can grow tired of you, Evangeline."

"I believe we are far too imaginative, Aris," she panted as her hips ground against him. Suddenly,  they both caught a rhythm and the strains of passion possessed them, filling them. Aristotle unleashed a roar equal to the one Evangeline had given earlier and they fell exhausted against the mattress. He quickly pulled her onto his chest, letting her hair drape over them. His hand ran over the dampened curls while his eyes stared up at the ceiling.

A long, sated sigh escaped them both. Evangeline perked her head up on her hands to stare at the pensive Aristotle. "I find it harder and harder to resist you, Aris," she admitted, tracing his jawbone.

"Enough to renegotiate for a year rather than five months?" he asked with all seriousness.

This gave her pause. What he was asking her could not be fulfill. She was already in danger of loosing her heart to him with just the five months he'd demanded. If she were here a year she would never want to leave. "Aristotle, I can't."

He cradled her head in his hands. "Why not?"

"I have my own life. You can't expect me to abandon it because we can't control ourselves."

"You can have all these things here."

"And give up my life, my things there? It's just like a man to think that way." Evangeline rose from the bed to retrieve her robe in the wardrobe.

Aristotle gritted his teeth. "I would not deny you your independence, Eve. Why are you so afraid to take a chance?"

"Afraid?" she guffawed. "I'm not afraid. I'm appalled. You lay there expecting me to give up my life as if nothing I have is important and without any regard to my feelings, expecting me to come here and be just another pretty face. I'm a business woman with important ties back home that need my attention. Why not give up your life? You can gun run from anywhere in the world or whatever it is you do. If anyone's afraid, sir, it's you."

Aristotle laughed. "Evangeline, it's simply not done. Now, I find it fascinating that you do handle your late husband's affairs and businesses, but I'm sure once you settle down-"

"I don't plan to settle down." She crossed her arms over her chest to glare at him.

This gave him pause. "Surely you'd want to remarry and have children."

"Children would be nice, but I don't plan to ever marry again."

Why did that declaration bother him so much? True, he wasn't proposing marriage to her, but hearing her say she had no intention of remarrying had been a punch to the gut. "Why is that?" his curiosity piqued.

"There my reasons alone," Evangeline stated firmly, looking away. "I think you should go, Aris."

"No." It was a flat refusal, which brought her temper to the forefront.

"Leave!"

He rose off the bed quicker than she had anticipated to grip her upper arms firmly. "That may have worked the last time, but this time it won't. Now, I plan to get back into that bed with you, so that I can actually wake up with you in my arms rather than a cold empty bed."

Something in his last words had touched her, abating the anger she had felt from their conversation. See, this was the very reason she could not let him get close to her. She became irrational and her emotions put her in a tizzy. They would need to reset the boundaries, but not tonight. She'd much rather go with his plan. So, without another word, she allowed Aristotle to lead her back to bed, then snuggled close to him, listening to the pounding of his heart until sleep came to her.