“Come,” he said, again taking my hand and going into the smart lobby. At the elevator, he pressed the button for up.
“An elevator, really?”
“Not just any elevator,” he said with a lazy smile.
The sexual tension between us was building again. As soon as the doors closed behind us in the elevator, we were kissing, and we didn’t stop until the door opened into his apartment.
We stumbled out into a hallway, and I barely took in the sight of his fabulous apartment, with all the open spaces and glass windows featuring endless city views. There were floating stairs to another floor, but we didn’t make it till there.
In his sitting room, there were upholstered couches and we fell onto one of them, our limbs intertwined. We were kissing and fumbling with each other’s clothes, laughing at our struggles. He couldn’t get the zipper down on my dress and I had to help him, but for that I had to sit up and contort my body to be able to reach down. He was, meanwhile, caressing my body, kissing my neck.
“Stop! Stop!” I laughed, “I can’t get my dress off if you keep doing that.”
“I’ll tear it off,” he said, his eyes dark and dangerous.
“Then I will have nothing to wear and will have to stay here forever,” I challenged him.
“Fine by me,” he responded. He took off his pants and shirt and I managed to get my zip down, stepping out of my dress, which fell in a heap on the floor. I took off my underwear and stood in front of him, naked. Oddly enough, I didn’t feel shy or self-conscious, the way I would with anyone else.
With Paul, for some reason, everything was different.
He stepped forward, taking my face in his hands, and kissed me slowly, his lips tender and warm. Then his tongue traced the edge of my mouth and found my tongue, twisting around. I felt a spasm of desire for him, and pulled him closer, my hands running down his back, feeling the muscles tense under his skin, his tight bum, which was even lovelier to touch than it was to look at.
I lay down on his couch and pulled him on top of me, pressing myself into him. His erection pushed against me, and I could feel it against my thigh as he kissed me. I moved my hand towards it, stroking his cock, closing my hand around it and heard him gasp with delight as I opened my legs and he slid into me, easily. A moan of pleasure escaped from my mouth, our bodies interlocked, and we moved in rhythm, a dance in which neither partner led but both were hearing the same music, following a tune only we could hear.
When I came, a deep cry came from within me, a sound I had never made before and, along with it, came such pleasure and ecstasy that I momentarily forgot about everything, my work and my family, Paul, and the investigation. All that mattered was the two of us, together, fitting together as naturally and beautifully as if we were meant to be together.
I knew it was right, for the two of us to be together like this. Nothing else mattered but this, nobody else mattered.
“You said you wanted to show me something,” I said.
He smiled sleepily, “I showed you something just now, didn’t it? Do you want to see it again?”
I had to laugh at how brazen he was, but I could feel my body respond, wanting him, again.
Afterwards, both of us were exhausted.
He pulled a throw over us, and we lay together on the sofa, my head on his chest, and we fell asleep.
Chapter 8
Paul
I woke up during the night to the sound of Grace getting up in the dark. I saw her looking for clothes and trying to get dressed. Usually, I would approve of this kind of behavior, and pretend not to notice.
But, not with Grace. Oddly enough, I didn’t want her to go.
“Where are you going?” I spoke out loud.
She straightened up, caught out.
“I woke you up, sorry.”
“You’re leaving?”
“I have to. My grandmother will worry.”
“Your grandmother?”