Page 33 of Carbon

And now I clenched around Midnight and fell over the cliff once more as he gave a long groan and filled me with his heat.

“No other girl will ever make me feel the way you do,trésor.”

Now I was his treasure as well? “But you barely know me.”

“I know enough.” He reached outside the car, coming back minus the condom but with the blanket in his arms. “Here, I don’t want you catching a chill.”

He manhandled me so I was lying half on top of him, half on the seat, then covered us both with the blanket and tucked an arm around my waist. After his abrupt departure following our first encounter, I was grateful to have this time with him, this closeness. I reached up and traced the contours of his face with one finger—his straight nose, a pair of high cheekbones, that strong jaw. Was he Beau? He felt similar to how I’d imagine Beau feeling, minus the beard of course, but I couldn’t be sure.

And if hewasBeau, what did our future hold? A series of anonymous yet spectacular trysts or something more? My mind drifted back to earlier in the evening, to my time with Gregory and the way we’d fitted together on the dance floor. He’d been different tonight—kinder, more attentive. And he certainly had the means to give me every material thing I could wish for.

Not only did he have a good job, but he came from money and understood the way my world worked. Did Beau? Did he know his Chateau Petrus from his Chardonnay? His Brahms from his Beyoncé? And did I want to find out?

10

“Fuck! What time is it?”

Midnight’s curse bit through the air, and I stirred from my slumber, face plastered against...hell! I’d fallen asleep on his chest. Please, say I hadn’t drooled.

“I don’t know,” I mumbled.

It was still dark, but rather than being pitch black, the sky was a dark grey through the corner of the garage window.

The screen of his watch glowed an eerie green. Almost four a.m.—we’d been dead to the world for at least two hours.

“My leg’s gone to sleep,” he said, stretching it into the footwell.

“Other parts of you haven’t.” And right now, his cock was twitching against my hip.

A zing of electricity shot straight to mychatteas he nibbled my earlobe. “That’s because I was dreaming about you,trésor.”

“That makes two of us. Not about me, about you,” I hastened to clarify. “Can we...?”

He glanced towards the window, and I knew what he was thinking. Would he get away before dawn broke? Part of me longed to tell him I already had a good idea of his identity, but my head overruled. Making a decision in the heat of the moment had the potential to end in disaster—I needed to confirm for certain and then have a long, hard think about my future.

“It’ll be fast.”

“What are you waiting for?”

One rough digit stroked between my legs before sliding inside me. “I see you’re ready. Guess you weren’t kidding about that dream.”

“No, I wasn’t.”

“And what was I doing to you?”

Oh,merde, why did I start this? Writing my filthy thoughts down was one thing, but voicing them to the man who caused me to have them in the first place? “Uh, it doesn’t matter.” His finger stilled deep inside me, and a whimper escaped my lips. “Please.”

“Tell me.”

Even in the dark, I still closed my eyes. “Fine. I was bent over my desk in the pool house.”

“Is that what we’re doing next time, then?”

He was already planning a next time? My head warned me I shouldn’t be getting in so deep, but my body, on the other hand, thought it was an excellent idea. “If you’re up for that?”

“I’m always up when you’re around.”

With a bit of shuffling, he manoeuvred us so he was on top, and the rip of foil told me he’d sheathed himself. Seconds later his cock nudged at my entrance. Despite his insistence to the contrary, he took his time as he slid inside me to the root and then paused while I stretched to accommodate him.

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