The End of Faking It

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The End of Faking It Page 11

by Natalie Anderson


  He drove the rental car he’d picked up at the airport and ignored ’til now, detouring to her flat on the way so she could pick up some clothes. He insisted on enough for the week and to his immense satisfaction she didn’t argue. He glanced round her shoebox while she expertly packed a small case. He looked at the few tiny knickknacks she’d gathered on her travels. It seemed everything was small enough to fit into a couple of suitcases. Hell, the whole apartment could fit in a suitcase. It didn’t surprise him that she lived alone, but he was disappointed not to discover anything much more about her from her few possessions. An ebook reader lay on the arm of the sofa. His fingers itched to flip it open so he could check out the titles she’d loaded.

  After he’d stowed her bag in the boot, they stopped at the café just down from the office. He didn’t want to take away, gave the excuse that he didn’t want to face all those files again just yet, but really he just wanted to relax and hang with her some more. It was peaceful. They split the papers and he skimmed headlines, glancing at her as she concentrated on the articles that really caught her interest—in the international affairs section mostly. He asked and she talked through the list of places she’d lived in. He refused to believe her so she proved it by telling him who was prime minister or president in every one of those countries. Mind you, she could have made a couple of them up and he wouldn’t have known. But she spoke bits of a billion languages and was totally animated when she talked about the highlights of each place.

  It was almost another two hours and another coffee before they moved on. He picked up the little paper crane she’d made out of the receipt and pocketed it before she noticed.

  In the office he had to force himself to pay attention. But every few minutes his mind slipped to the sensual. He’d woken her through the night, warming her up again. He’d let her set the pace—initially—forcing his patience to extremes so she got so involved there was no pulling back, getting her used to letting go. She was starting to get a little faster already—turning easily into his arms, trusting him with her body. But not quite enough.

  He wanted to please her all kinds of ways. He wanted her to trust him to do anything—and for her to enjoy it. She still tried to give more than she took, which was as wonderful as it was difficult. But he was determined to get her to the point of just lying back and letting him make love to her. Of becoming the pure hedonist he knew she could be.

  As he had less than a week, he had to go for the intensive approach. Not that he had a problem with that either. He was having a ball thinking hard about ways to tease her into total submission. The trick was taking his time over the stimulation. Not too much, too soon. And maybe he needed to take her where she was at ease the most—on the dance floor or in the water. He liked the water idea. She spent hours in the shower. Uh-huh, he had some serious shower fantasies going.

  Back at his apartment that night he cooked a stir-fry as fast as possible so he could focus on her. They hit a bar and club for a while but before long went home and continued their own dance party. She wouldn’t let him put the jazz back on, instead she let him in on her favourite radio station—some Czech thing she listened to over the Internet. He’d never have imagined that having sex with Euro-techno blaring in the background would be such an amazing experience.

  Early Sunday, Penny walked with him down to the craft and produce market that burst into being this time each week in the local primary school grounds.

  Carter swung the bag. ‘Free-range eggs and fresh strawberries—I’m happy.’

  She was happy too, but not for those two reasons.

  ‘There are some amazing markets in Melbourne,’ he said. ‘You ever been there?’

  She shook her head.

  ‘You’ve been to all these other capitals of culture and not Melbourne?’ He looked disapproving.

  She hadn’t gotten there yet and she wouldn’t ever live there now. When this week was over she didn’t want to see him again. He would become the perfect memory. That was all this could ever be.

  To stop suddenly melancholic thoughts sweeping in, she paid more attention to the products on display—organic honey, bespoke tailoring, spices, sausages, pottery, glass, jewellery… She lingered over them, tasting the samples, touching the smoothness of the craftsmanship.

  ‘Perfect for Nick,’ Carter called from a couple of stalls away. He waved a bright-coloured, hand-crafted wooden jigsaw puzzle at her. ‘Help him learn his numbers.’

  ‘But he’s how old?’ she teased, walking over to join him.

  ‘Eight months,’ Carter answered, unabashed. ‘It’s never too soon to start working on numbers. He’s got to be groomed to take over the business.’

  ‘Thus speaks the accountant.’ Had he been groomed from birth too? ‘Look.’ She pointed out another puzzle that had six circles, the parts cut like pizzas. ‘Get him that and he can get to grips with fractions before he’s one.’ She held it up as if it was the best invention ever.

  ‘Oh, good idea.’ Carter took it off her.

  ‘You’re not serious.’

  Actually it appeared he was.

  She shook her head. ‘What about this one—this is much more cool.’ Like a globe, a fanciful underwater scene with sharks and whales, seahorse, octopus, glitter and fake pearls.

  He screwed up his nose. ‘Bit girly, isn’t it?’ Then he shot her a look and winked. ‘Okay, that’s three.’ He gathered them together and then glanced at her, a sheepish smile softening his face to irresistibly boyish. ‘Am I going over the top?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘You’re right.’ Carter reached into his wallet and handed money to the stallholder. ‘He’s going to love them.’

  Penny couldn’t help but wonder what Nick looked like—was he a mini-Carter? Did he have his big brother’s amazing multi-coloured eyes? She hoped so. She’d love a baby with big blue-green eyes and a cheeky smile. She’d sit her on her knee and pull faces to make her giggle.

  Oh, hell, here she was so swamped by warm fuzzies from all the fabulous sex, she was having fantasies about what their babies would look like. She was pathetic.

  She never wanted to have children. And Carter most certainly didn’t want any.

  What he wanted was a week’s fling, nothing more. Nor did she. And that was all this was. Okay, so he’d made her feel everything she’d never before felt. But now she’d learned to let go, she would with other lovers, right? She closed her eyes against the sudden sting of tears and her uncontrollable spasm of revulsion.

  She didn’t want another man ever to touch her. She only wanted Carter. And she wanted him again now—already addicted to the highs he gave. She felt so good with him. Except that was all this really was—he was the ultimate good-time guy, filled with fun and sun and laughter. He looked carefree in his casual clothes, his red tee shirt as cheerful as his demeanour.

  She didn’t want him to be so free and easy. It wasn’t fair. She wanted him to want her with the same kind of underlying desperation she felt for him. The desperation she was trying to bury deep and deny.

  But she had the compelling urge to push him into a glorious loss of control. Because even though she knew they shared the most amazing sex, it was she who lost it first. He always hung on until she was truly satisfied. And while he was the only lover ever to have been able to do that for her, part of her didn’t like it. It made her feel like the weaker link. She knew that didn’t really matter—this wasn’t going past the one week. She wished she could shatter him just once.

  But she was the one falling apart.

  She tugged on his hand and turned to face him. ‘Kiss me.’

  Carter looked at her. He could feel the tremors running under her skin. What had happened in the last sixty seconds to make her so edgy?

  ‘I thought you didn’t like lust in public?’ he teased to joke a smile out of her.

  ‘Just kiss me,’ she said.

  And how could any man resist a sultry command like that? Carter pulled hard on her hair so her he
ad tilted back. He kissed down the column of her exposed throat. With his other hand he pushed her pelvis, grinding it into his.

  He stepped back pulling her into the shadows behind a row of stalls. Truthfully he didn’t do public displays much—and certainly not of unbridled lust like this. But the moment he touched her he was lost. Uncaring about what anyone thought, he just had to hold her closer and let the glory wash through him.

  ‘You are amazing.’ Breathing hard and deep, she looked at him, her black eyes shining. Suddenly she smiled. ‘You make me feel so good.’

  His skin prickled. Okay, that was nice because he did aim to please, but it wasn’t just the kissing that made him feel good. Fact was, he felt good every moment he spent with her.

  After the market it was back to the office for a long afternoon that Penny struggled through every second of. Baby images kept popping in her head. Cute Carter-as-a-kid imaginings. So stupid.

  When they finally returned to his apartment he went fussing in the kitchen, so Penny swam in the pool—needing twenty minutes alone to sort out her head. But a zillion lengths didn’t really help so she went back upstairs. Something smelt good and Carter was busy on his computer. She didn’t think he even noticed when she walked past on her way to shower. So much for the revitalising benefits of exercise—all she felt was even more tired and emotional. She wanted to fall into his arms again and let him take her to paradise. She wanted him to hold her and never let go.

  It was the sex. Her weak woman’s body wanted to wrap around his and absorb his strength. But he was mentally miles away in an office in Melbourne controlling his companies. So she could control merely herself, couldn’t she? She flicked on the lights in the big bathroom and twisted the shower on. She stood under the streaming jet and let the water pummel the tension in her shoulders.

  ‘Is it okay if I join you?’ His erection pointed to the sky, already condom sheathed.

  Her bones dissolved, she leant against the wall, wanting to cling to him and just hang on for the ride. His face lit up, his low laugh rumbled and he flashed a victorious smile.

  She closed her eyes because his all-male beauty was too much to witness. But when she opened them again, everything was still black. The room was totally dark.

  ‘Carter?’ she asked quickly. ‘What happened?’

  ‘Bulb must have blown.’ He stepped into the wet space with her.

  She slid her palms all over his chest, loving it as the water made him slick. It was like discovering him all over again only by touch this time, not sight. Somehow it seemed more intimate, more intense. He pulled her close and kissed her. Oh, she loved those kisses. She loved the way he twisted her hair into a rope and wound it against his wrist—pulling it back, exposing her throat to his hot mouth. And then he went lower.

  She gasped and pressed back against the cool wet tiles as he licked down her torso. His hands cupped her breasts, lifting them first to the water, and then to his tongue. She shuddered, the sensations excruciatingly sublime.

  In the velvety darkness all she could do was soak up his caresses and listen to the falling water. As he gently, rhythmically tugged on each nipple with his lips, her knees gave out. He grasped her waist, easing her to the floor and following, kept doing those, oh, so wickedly delicious things with his tongue and hands.

  Blind to everything but sensation, she groaned and his kisses went even lower. She reached, finding his broad shoulders with her hands and sweeping across them, loving the smooth hot skin and the hot water raining on them.

  She arched up, unable to stop her response to the wide, wet touches, hardly aware of who she was any more. His hand splayed on her lower back, pushing her closer to his hungry mouth. The other he used to test her, torment her, tease her. Just one finger at first, smoothly entering her slick heat. She gasped, but his tongue kept stroking, and then she was blind to everything except how it felt. She moved uncontrollably, rocking to meet him. Panting, she shuddered as he plunged deeper, and withdrew only to return with more. She was so sensitive to the way he toyed with her, and in the dark, wet heat all she could do was feel. Her fingers, thighs, sex pulsed and gripped as all she felt was pure lightning-bright pleasure. The orgasm knifed through her—ripping her to exquisitely satisfied shreds. She totally lost her mind.

  His muscles bunched and rippled beneath her clutching hands. Displaying a scary kind of strength, he scooped her up again and flattened her against the wet wall. His hands cupped her, spreading her so he could thrust straight in. She wound her legs around his waist and had no hope of controlling anything. Not her instinctive rhythm, her screams, her next orgasm. Not when he held her and kissed her and claimed her so completely.

  The water ran down them as they leaned together, taking for ever for their breath to ease.

  ‘Are you okay?’ he finally spoke. ‘That wasn’t too uncomfortable?’

  She mock-punched his arm. ‘Carter.’

  He started to laugh. And then she laughed too.

  ‘You sure you didn’t mind?’ His laugh became a groan as he carefully curved his hands around her hips.

  How could she mind that? ‘Give me half an hour and then do it again, will you?’

  ‘You don’t need half an hour.’ He swung her into his arms and carried her back to his bed. And made love to every inch of her all over again.

  Monday morning she couldn’t move. Wouldn’t. Point blank refused to let the weekend be over. She screwed her eyes shut when he appeared by the bed dressed in one of his killer suits. ‘Don’t ask me to get up yet. Please.’

  She just wanted to snuggle in the sheets and enjoy absolute physical abandonment. He was perfect. He was playful. He wasn’t ever going to ask anything more of her. And now he was fresh from the shower.

  All she could let herself think about was this. She buried herself in his sensuality, blinding herself to everything else that was so attractive about him. Ignoring the ways in which they were so compatible.

  But the humour she couldn’t avoid—not when he brought it into bed with them.

  He tugged the sheet from her body; she stretched and squealed with the pleasure-pain of well-worn muscles. She really didn’t want to get up yet. But then he unzipped his trousers. Delighted, she scrunched a little deeper into the mattress.

  ‘Oh, my,’ she murmured as he straddled her. ‘You want me to set a personal record or something?’

  ‘Well, it’s like anything—the more practice you have, the better you get.’

  ‘Then hurry up and practise with me.’ Oh, she was so into it now—utterly free in the physical play with him.

  His brows lifted.

  ‘Come on,’ she begged. ‘You’ll have me hit orgasm just from thinking about it soon.’ Just from thinking about him.

  ‘You’re complaining?’

  ‘No,’ she giggled as he nuzzled down her stomach like a playful lion.

  Suddenly he stopped and looked up her body into her eyes. ‘Seriously, though, you’re not too sore?’

  She arched, brazenly lifting her hips to him. ‘Don’t you dare stop!’

  Monday sucked. Monday meant other people were in the office—meaning he couldn’t go and kiss her freely. So Carter locked himself in his office and ploughed on with the tedious task of hunting for tiny financial irregularities. He didn’t move from his desk for hours—just to prove to himself that he could concentrate for that long. Because all he really wanted to do was hang out by Penny’s desk and talk to her. He wanted to spend every minute with her, resenting the job he had to do, even though it was because of the job that he’d met her in the first place.

  Tuesday sucked just as much—another night had gone and the ones remaining felt too few. Stupid. Because he’d achieved his aim—she was wholly his and he had the rest of the week to indulge and that should totally be enough.

  And now he’d just found the needle in the haystack. He carefully pulled it out to inspect it—drawing with it the thread that could unravel the whole company. Once he’d followed the
poison all the way to the source, and gathered the documentation, his job was done.

  Success all round.

  He could go back to his own business, in another city, and get on with it. So he didn’t need to feel this rubbish.

  Wednesday he was even more grumpy, the evidence was almost complete, but Penny was out and he wanted her to hurry up and get back so they could go to lunch. He went up to her office to see if she was back. There was someone there, but it wasn’t Penny. It was her brother.

  ‘Hi, Matt.’ Carter held out his hand. ‘Penny’s not here. She’s taken some stuff to Mason. She shouldn’t be more than another half-hour.’

  ‘Oh.’ The younger man shifted on his feet. ‘I can’t wait. I have to get to the airport.’

  ‘She’ll be sorry she missed you.’ Man, her family was awful at communication. This past fortnight he’d been away, Carter and his dad had Skyped a couple of times, and he’d been sent the latest picture of Nick looking cute. There were no excuses in the technology age. But Matt looked so disappointed, Carter felt bad for him. ‘I’ll walk out with you.’ He led him back to the lift. ‘Conference was good?’

  ‘Yeah.’ Matt smiled but looked distracted.

  ‘You want a taxi called?’ Carter blinked as they got out in the broad sunshine.

  Matt didn’t answer, still looked both disappointed and distracted. ‘You’ll take care of her, won’t you?’ he suddenly said. ‘She needs lots of support. She’s been cut off for so long.’

  Yeah, that was pretty obvious. Carter waited. Because Matt looked as if he had something on his mind he wanted to share. And it didn’t look like happy thoughts.

 

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