Page 80 of Casanova LLC

“Is terrifying. To men in general, and to a man like Richard particularly.”

She sat back, her tea forgotten on the table. “In what possible way?”

“In the one way that matters.”

“Which is?”

“His erection.”

Claire guffawed. “Oh, okay. Come on. Tell me.”

“It all comes down to that. Or up to that, depending.”

Her smile froze. “Wait. Are you serious?”

“Impotence. From the Latin imponentem, meaning powerless, lack of control. Conversely, potency: a show of power. Of control. And the hard truth—forgive the pun—is that the man’s erection is controlled by the power of the woman. By her lure, captivation, tease, recognition. But as easily as she can cause an erection, she can also cause its loss. And that’s far, far too much power for one person to have over another, as far as weak men are concerned. So they take back the control. Through domination. And historically, that’s what a patriarchal system did. It caged women. Often violently. With money and muscle and illiteracy and children and religion and laws, just to name a few. And all because the feminine controls the thing that gives the masculine the one power that actually matters: the ability to perform the biological imperative to procreate.”

We stared at each other.

“Oh my God.”

I set down my teacup. “So yeah. It’s a whole thing.” I gestured toward the dining room. “You want some food now?”

“Uh. Okay.”

I stood and held out a hand. She took it and I pulled her up.

We walked through the dining room and into the kitchen. I turned up the oven and uncovered the charcuterie plate all while Claire thought; quite loudly, for how silently she was doing it.

“This is all happening on an unconscious level, right?”

“Oh, totally.” I took a bite of cheese. “No man is walking around thinking, wow, I’m not a fan of the fact that she controls my dick, so, hey, I know! I’ll lock her in a cage.” I threw a piece of salami into my mouth. “Although, at times, it can be calculated. Someone like Richard seemed to know exactly what he was doing. Given everything you said.” I grabbed at the cheese, making myself stop talking.

She took a breadstick, but just held it, still thinking. “You know, when we came back from the ball, and I touched myself? And then you touched me, and we did it together? I couldn’t help but think: this is what we could have had.”

“We?”

“Sorry. Me and Richard. That intimacy. That I felt with you.”

“Right. Yes. Sure. Of course.”

She blew out a breath. “Such a waste.” She put her hands behind her, bracing herself on the counter, and hopped up on it. Her robe fluttered open again. I turned away, opening the oven door and squatting down in front of it. “What about you?”she asked.

“What about me?”

“How does this all work for you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…you have to be able to perform. So you must have control over your erection?”

“Yes.” Usually.

“How do you do that?”

I couldn’t keep pretending to look at this fucking oven. She was going to call me out on it soon. I threw a teasing glance over my shoulder. “Trade secrets.”

“Is it because there’s no real relationship? You’re just providing a service. As you like to say, it’s never about what you want, only what the client wants. And then it’s over. That all seems very safe. Very controllable.”

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