Resist by Blanche Hardin Page B

gushed blood but thank God for running water in the shower. He quickly soaped, rinsed himself off and got out before I was finished shampooing my hair.
    Lesson number three: Do as I was told or face the consequences.
    Blaine didn’t want kids. In fact he hated the little bastards and failed to turn into a complete softy when he saw a baby. I was on the fence about the whole idea of children so he made the decision for both of us. He scheduled an appointment with a gynecologist he got from Jamie—the female Meridian studio exec we had dinner with at The Polo Lounge—and had me fitted for a non-hormonal IUD.
    I almost didn’t make the appointment, tempted to back out but if I didn’t get it fitted while I was on my period then I would have to wait until the following month. We would have to use condoms until then and Blaine almost went ballistic over the phone.
    That was completely unacceptable to him and he told me as much coldly and succinctly without a care to how I felt about the situation. I made my appointment, despite it being in West L.A. and leaving with only an hour to spare in Southern California traffic, which was unreal and worse  than Bay Area traffic up north.
    Doctor Greenberg fitted me for my IUD the same day, gave me a bunch of pamphlets to review and sent me on my way. I was home by six p.m., just fifteen minutes before Blaine walked through the door that day.
    I was intelligent, and had graduated from one of the top universities in the world, but so did my lover and he outsmarted me every time because I couldn’t see straight when it came to him. He wasn’t smarter than me—in fact, our IQs were only singular numbers apart with mine being slightly higher than his—much to his chagrin.
    What the fuck did Intelligent Quotient matter when he had a dick, I had a vagina and he used both our genitals like they were his own personal arsenal of weapons? I’d begun to question exactly whom I belonged to: Blaine or me?
    “Why are you so quiet?” he whispered into my ear, shattering me from my contemplation.
    “No reason. I don’t want to share our most intimate moments with the driver, that’s all.”
    Blaine’s hands began to caress my scalp before his lips kissed my temple. “Still so shy. I wonder if you followed my directions when we were at the airport? I sincerely hope you did. I wouldn’t want to have to punish you on the first night of our vacation.”
    My heart thundered in my chest and I swallowed before I replied, “Yes, I followed your orders—sorry, directions—down to the letter.”
    “Was that a Freudian slip?” It was more of a statement than a question. “Not that it matters but I don’t give orders, sweetheart. You can follow my rules or you can go but you always have a choice—don’t ever forget it.”
    “I’m confused. What do you mean I can go?”
    “I don’t have a wedding band on your finger, Victoire.” He never called me by my full first name and just hearing it run off his tongue sent a sudden chill down my neck and shoulders. “I meant you have money—our joint business checking account. You don’t have to stay with me. You can find a place of your own and we’ll deal with one another in a business capacity only.”
    Tears pricked my eyes but I refused to let them fall. “You mean . . . you could just forget about me—like that?”
    “I didn’t say that. ’Course I couldn’t, honey. I would be at your place every chance I got but whether or not you would allow me inside . . . well, that would be your choice, not mine.”
    Now it was my turn to smile sarcastically. “I do believe you’re implying a certain message with a double entendre, Blaine.”
    “Maybe I am and maybe I’m not. However, you would have to suffer the consequences when I left without giving you a cuddle, kind word or a kiss on the lips. I don’t do intimacy with casual lovers.”
    I wanted to respond to his off-handed comment but before I could think of anything to say, we’d