Free Intimate Knowledge Part 1 by Helen Karol

Prologue
    I
     
    Saturday 29th June  Craig Gold Legacy Ball
    “Oh, girlfriend, that beautiful man wants you, bad.”
    As usual, Terri has no brain to mouth filter.  I throw her a warning glare and continue polishing the glass in my hand as we stand behind the bar.  I feel weird because we are wearing cocktail dresses, just like all the other women, but we are caught between the guests and the help. We are volunteering at the charity event in order to flesh out our law school applications.
    “A 4.00 GPA and making the dean’s list isn’t enough, these days,” our advisers tell us.  “The recruiters want to know you care.”  So here we are.  Caring.
    And me being wanted.
    I want to tell Terri that she is wrong. That the dangerous, urbane, gorgeous, sexy man one hundred feet across the enormous ballroom does not want me.  That he is actually oozing magnetism and pheromones at some other poor prey.  But I know I can’t because, being my best friend, she is privy to the fact that he has told me that he does.
    He was very matter of fact about it.  He just stood across from me, an acceptable distance between us, and told me in a confident, hungry demand. Like he was asking for the specialty dish of the house. I imagine that is a fair comparison.  I appeal to his appetite and he needs to satisfy the craving.  I am still desperately trying to convince myself that I am immune and will not be the latest item on Leo Gold’s menu.
    “Only because he can’t have me.”
    “Oh, sweetie, he can have you.  He knows it, you know it, I know it – hell, this whole fucking room knows it.”
    “Shut. Up.  You are an utterly useless friend.  You are supposed to be supporting my resistance.”
    “Well you know me, I’m never one for lost causes.”
    I become silent.  I radiate disapproval and hurt feelings, hoping to make her feel guilty.  I realize it is working when she starts polishing glasses along with me and speaks in a sulky voice.
    “Ok.  So why is it we are resisting him?  Oh yeah, he’s gorgeous, rich, intelligent and hot with bad boy charm.  What’s to resist?”
    “He’s young enough to be my s...” I offer a plausible excuse.
    “Oh no, don’t you dare finish that.  We both know you were a late bloomer and no way were you capable of breeding at eleven.  You know age doesn’t matter these days and he doesn’t know you’re older than he is.  But even if he did, I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t care.”
    “I hate the whole cougar thing.” I grumble , part of me resenting the lack of secrecy having a best friend you share almost everything with creates.  Almost everything, because I can’t tell her the real reason I must hold this beautiful man at arm’s length. That is classified.  She thinks I am undercover investigating the recent rash of sorority hazing.  She has no idea that he is my real target.
    “It’s only a cougar thing if you are doing the stalking and you are definitely not.  Besides, you look younger than he does.  That’s why so many young guys hit on you.”
    I hate it that she’s right.  Everybody thinks it must be a good thing to look so much younger.  In theory, it is flattering, but in practice, it is just annoying.  You are always being asked for ID.  People way younger than you treat you as if you are younger than they are and people your own age never take you seriously.  Sounds good to women who want to look younger, but it is a pain in the ass in daily life.  The only real benefit I have reaped over the years is that it can be great for undercover work.  Like now.
    My ability to consistently pull men over ten years younger, is proving useful with my current assignment.  At thirty, Leo Gold has entered a later decade than any of the men I‘ve hooked up with over the past five years.  He also has this uncanny ability to make me feel as if I am the much younger one.  Not to mention that his seductive combination of dominant sexuality and sensual