The Rakes of the Law Society

Gold lay on his back in his bed on top of black silk sheets thinking furiously, going over everything in his mind about what had happened with Belle and what, if anything he'd done to offend her. She'd advanced on him first, he was sure of it and when he'd reciprocated she'd seemed receptive, so what could it be? Was she really that worried about hurting him?

It seemed ridiculous. He'd been shot several times with a gun. If he'd lived through that, surely a quick shag on Belle's messy bed wasn't going to put him in the ground.

Then he began thinking about Cora. Her voice, her name, sometimes seemed to him to remind him of something breaking. Except the only one who was breaking was him. How had he ever gotten involved with someone like her to begin with?

Or maybe the correct question was how'd she gotten involved with someone like him? Or at least the him he used to be, back in the days of the Rakes of the Law Society. It was all so confusing.

"It was Jefferson's fault, he'd started it," thought Gold spitefully. "If it hadn't been for him, Cora wouldn't have-" No it wasn't Jefferson's fault, he corrected himself as he pulled up a sheet against the chill. He was a grown man and any stupid decisions he'd made were on his own head.

Still, Jefferson had—

No, the truth was it'd all started with Mila. Mila, who left him for another man. Okay, so maybe he worked too much and neglected her a bit, but still, he'd never thought she'd go that far. After they broke up she moved in with her boyfriend and Gold worked even harder. Back in those days they shared joint custody of Neal and she still lived in town. Later on when, she ditched the man she'd cheated on him with and hooked up with an Australian guy she moved over there, leaving Neal, who'd refused to go with his mother and be uprooted from his life in town. But back in the day, while they'd shared joint custody, Gold had the occasional weekend free without Neal. Friends encouraged him to go online and seek out female company, but he preferred to be alone, rather than put himself out there and risk certain rejection. It was a lonely, sad time for him and he didn't feel like doing anything other than mourn the life he'd lost.

Finally, Jefferson convinced him to go with him to one of those lawyer conferences he was always going on about. This particular conference was in California. Gold and Jefferson were taking the same flight over together. Unlike Jefferson, Gold didn't fly a lot and was glad for the company. It was only in the airport, as they lined up to wait to enter the plane, that Jefferson explained the covert purpose of their trip.

"Gold," said Jefferson, "stop walking around like you have a big black cloud over your head! Being single isn't a curse—it's a blessing! Look at me, I'm single and you don't see me miserable and bemoaning my plight. Nope, I'm out there every day, fighting the good fight and getting laid!"

"I fail to see your point," said Gold stiffly.

"You know who you remind me of Gold?"

"Whom?" asked Gold, correcting his friend's grammar spitefully.

"You remind me of the man who's given up on ice cream after just trying one flavor."

"Well maybe it was a particularly crap flavor."

"But there are at least 30 other flavours out there your tongue is just begging for a taste of! Fantastic delicious fun flavours and your problem is you're just too scared to go back to the store and try another, depriving yourself in the process of all that tasty goodness!"

"I am not scared!" insisted Gold.

"All right, then prove it to me. Let me give you a little tuition at this conference we're at. Try what I suggest and if you don't dig it, then you can give the entire shop a pass with my seal of approval."

"And what if I decline your tutelage?"

"Then I'll just keep bugging you, won't I? Because if there's one thing I can't stand it's someone too scared to take a chance on their own happiness," said Jefferson piously.

"I am just going to this conference to learn more about international family law, not on some kind of pick up spree, thank you very much," grumbled Gold. "However do you talk me into these things? It's just like law school all over again."

"Only with more sex!" grinned Jefferson. "And if you don't listen to me, I promise, I will do just as I said. I will bug you to death."

"Yeah, right."

"Well, it's a five hour flight to California. Let's see how you do."

True to his word Jefferson did not let up on Gold, chattering at him through the entire plane flight. At last, after several hours of this nonstop talk, Gold found himself consenting to his colleuge's tutelage just to get Jefferson to shut the hell up, and let him take a nap.

The undesired lessons began at the luncheon for the guests of the conference. Gold sat drinking with Jefferson at a round table and once again, Jefferson began to talk as he raised his glass for a toast.

"Here's to us—the Rakes of Law Society!"

"Prospective rakes," amended Gold.

"Not for long my friend," said Jeffferson slyly. "Not for long."

"And how prey tell do you plan to ensure my success?" asked Gold. "So far no one's even looked our way."

"Heh, it's a surprise you got Mila in bed in the first place with that attitude," laughed Jefferson.

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Gold crossly.

"It means you don't wait for the chicks to come to you, stupid, you have to go to them."

"Yeah and how does one go about doing that?"

"Easy, first you pick your target. You want someone a little older than yourself who's got an expensive hand bag and pricey looking threads. A woman, unless you occasionally crave a change of pace now and again like I do—"

"No thanks."

"Then a woman it is—in a nicely tailored suit, expensive, well groomed independent means, that sort of thing."

Gold nodded as if preparing to take notes.

"Someone who is comfortable with sex, who isn't embarrassed to admit her need," continued Jefferson. "Preferably divorced and not looking for a replacement for a husband she was most likely quite pleased to see go after all. The kind of woman you're looking for is ambitious, driven, ruthless—" he purred the last word excitedly as if the thrill of the chase had already taken hold of him. "She knows exactly what she wants and how you're going to give it to her. "And now she is free, independent, not looking for someone to tie her down or the complications or vulnerability of opening herself up to love. She isn't looking for you to be her protector or her soulmate or the doting father of her children. But what she is looking for is—"

"—Sex," finished Gold.

"Not just sex," said Jefferson holding up a finger. "Amazing, fantastic mind blowing sex. Sex that you make her understand only you can possibly give to her. And as, for her, she isn't embarrassed to tell you what she wants or exactly how she wants it."

Despite himself Gold was beginning to find himself mildly aroused at the prospect.

Making love with Mila—they had been each other's firsts, neither one knowing exactly what to do. He'd often felt confused when he was with her, constantly frustrated by her lack of direction to him. He'd do something and would ask her how she liked it, but all he'd get would be a noncommittal shrug or her saying "it's okay." He didn't want to be just okay, like a sitcom one put on TV when there was nothing better on, just for the sound in the background. He wanted "Oh yes! Yes pound me harder!" or "No, a little to the left, oh yeah, that's the spot, oh baby you're so good!" or even "Stop it, that feels weird try it from the front instead!" Not "all right, not bad" and the occasional mild panting, when what he really wanted a firm hand on the tiller, someone to direct him to tell him exactly where to rub it and how hard.

He was willing to concede that maybe Jefferson knew what he was doing after all. Whatever it was, he needed to try something new.

"See those ladies over there," said Jefferson with a wave at a table in the corner.

Gold looked over. Two women sat at a round table talking animatedly to each other—conference issued duotangs in front of them, name tags stuck to their chests.

"Let's bring them some drinks," suggested Jefferson.

Jefferson went up the bar and got some white wine spritzers and Gold had no recourse, but to trot along after his friend and accept a glass to bring to his prospective quarry.

"Now, just listen and follow what I do," murmured Jefferson out of the corner of his mouth.

"And I'll be okay?" asked Gold worriedly.

"Oh no mate, you'll be fucking brilliant!" grinned Jefferson slyly.

Somehow Gold found himself a half hour later in the hotel room of a voluptuous raven haired forty-something law professor from Atlanta named Sondra having a rather excellent time.

It was a heady new experience for the young lawyer, especially the bit with the vibrator. Over the next few days Gold purchased his own arsenal of similar devices, whatever was available at the local drugstore. He didn't care about the looks from the cashier. This wasn't his town and he'd probably never see the cahsier again. Next time he seduced a woman, he'd be ready his own supply, fresh out of the packet.

As the conference wore on and he moved smoothly from Sondra from Atlanta, who left early to go home and attend her daughter's kindergarten graduation, to Melisandre from Marseille, France, new possibilities opened up before him. The realms of pleasure were vaster than he'd ever imagined. They unfolded before his eyes in breathtaking waves of splendor.

He had never allowed himself to think of sex outside relationships when he was with Mila. He'd never really gone through that experimental phase a young college student is supposed to go through before settling down. He'd met Mila pretty much straight off. Now he was making up for lost time.

Sex for some women was like an itch they couldn't scratch on their own or couldn't scratch with the same pleasure it gave them, when he did it for them. As his skills began to improve he was frequently told he was "the best I ever had" or "my God how did you know how to do that?" or his favourite—"Your hands are magic."

They were words he would've given anything to hear from Mila when they were together, even just a little bit and now they came pouring out of the women he bedded in a torrent, like a rush of water, breaking through a wall of stone onto ground long starved of even the most meager moisture. It was intoxicating. He couldn't get enough.

Soon Gold found himself going to conferences every weekend he could spare. Jefferson claimed, only half joking that he'd created a monster and demanded to know the secret of Gold's success.

Gold had to confess he really didn't know. "Just treat her like she's special," he said. "Concentrate on her pleasure. Focus on making her happy—I think that's the problem with some of these people, every other guy who wants to fuck them is just concentrating on getting his own rocks off, on what she can give him, not on what he can give her. I dunno, I just try to please them and when they're happy, it gets me off somehow. I honestly like watching a woman in the throes of pleasure, it's like making a masterpiece, knowing I was the one to make her feel that way, to unleash that beast inside the most buttoned down judge or strictest law professor."

Jefferson nodded. It seemed so ridiculously obvious, and yet he'd never really thought of it that way before. That was the thing about Gold, Jefferson reflected, he wasn't the tallest man in the room, the richest, most famous or strikingly handsome in any particular way. What he had was emotional intensity and a complete focus of purpose, that and a thirst for knowledge. Jefferson had seen it in law school, in preparation for a case, but he had never imagined this aspect of his friend's personality would come to bear in this new world of romance and desire. Now he was seeing an entirely new side of Gold, he'd never suspected even existed.

At first it pleased him to see his friend finally cut loose at last and enjoy himself. But as time went on he began to worry slightly. After all there were only so many woman, in the law society. There was nothing wrong with having a reputation for being a rake, after all Jefferson himself had cultivated such a rep for years without ill effects. The issue was pacing. At the rate Gold was going he was sure to step on someone's toes sooner rather than later. But Jefferson's warnings fell on deaf ears.

"O,h don't be daft Jeffy!" exclaimed Gold laughing. "Look at you turning into my prudish old auntie! Whatever happened to trying all the ice cream flavours?"

"But not all at once!" protested Jefferson. "Watch what you're doing Gold, or you'll make yourself sick."

"Psssh!" Gold waved his friend's remarks away. "The only thing that's sick around here is that tie you're wearing. Armani or Hugo Boss?"

Jefferson sighed. He really had created a monster.