by Kait Gamble
That seemed to explain the mystery of her not having a man. No one cried like that over the phone unless it was because of an ex-lover—one who had clearly wrecked her heart. Did he want to get in the middle of that?
Mason watched her toss the phone aside and wipe away her tears with angry swipes of her hands. His heart cracked a little watching her fight away her emotions.
He could be the one to help her heal. And maybe kick the ass of the man who’d hurt her. And that was the thought that made up his mind. Ready or not, a meeting with the mystery woman was coming soon.
He watched her put away the uneaten food and trade it for a bottle of wine from the fridge. She flopped back onto the couch and popped the cork to pour herself half a glass of red. It wasn’t touched, however, as she stared into the distance. He couldn’t know for sure, but he imagined she was reliving what had gone wrong in her relationship with whomever she’d spoken to.
At least that was the look he’d probably have if it’d been him.
Mason scrubbed his hand through his hair.
It was madness. Why should he feel anything besides lust for her? She certainly was a gorgeous woman but he knew nothing about her other than that. What more could he feel? He was only responding to a kick to his libido. It was the only thing that made sense.
Who wouldn’t feel anything looking at such a beautiful creature? Someone who apparently had grown so uncomfortable in her clothing that she had decided to start stripping off before leaving the living area. Mason stood arrested by the sight of pale skin, his attention riveted to the window across the way.
Taking sips from the wineglass she still held in one hand, she undid her skirt and let it drop to the floor to reveal long, bare legs, a deliciously curved ass, and a lacy panties in pale pink that he could clearly see disappeared between the pale globes when she turned around.
Fucking hell.
Mason’s cock leapt to attention at the sight. The rush of blood south was so swift he had to grip the back of his sofa to stay upright.
She kicked the offending item of clothing aside before one-handedly unbuttoning her crisp white shirt. All too slowly, her actions revealed more skin as well as a matching bra, one that was tantalizingly sheer and dangerously close to a catastrophic failure when it came to holding her breasts. Not that he would complain if it did just snap under the strain.
Licking his lips, he adjusted himself in his suddenly too-confining trousers and continued to stare unabashedly at the stunning woman.
The glass was set aside now as she slid the shirt from her shoulders and let it fall to the floor as well.
Mason’s entire body went rigid now as she stood in full view clad in nothing but her lingerie. He could see the dusky peaks of her breasts through the cups of her bra and the darkened V between her thighs.
What he wouldn’t give to be able to touch her right then and there. Hell, he was seconds away from forgoing all his plans, dashing across the street, and kicking her door in. Only the thought of how she’d respond to a strange man watching her from across the way stopped him. What woman would welcome a virtual stalker with open arms?
None. But the fantasies he harbored in his mind sure as hell made him wish this one would. Not that he’d been stalking her, but watching her the way he had probably bordered on it.
Not that he’d crossed any lines. Until now.
Sure, he’d seen her go about her daily life. They practically had dinner together every night. Partial nudity happened occasionally. But this was the first time he’d gotten such a good look at her delectable body. The body that was currently moving through the apartment and out of view.
Mason lurched into action. He followed, frequently changing his angle to be able to keep his eyes on her.
Hope of seeing any more of her waned, however, when she walked into the back of her apartment. That was, until he caught a glimpse of her in a mirror. Mason stopped short, his jaw slackening as he saw what she was doing.
The mirror was long and slim, and only allowed him to see a slice of the scene. But it was more than enough. His mystery woman was on her back propped up by pillows as she expertly stroked herself. There was nothing soft or relaxing about her movements. She was going for the gold.
Shit.
He couldn’t take it any longer. Following her lead, Mason undid his trousers and pulled out his cock. Already rigid and aching, it throbbed in his hand as he watched her flingers fluttering over her glistening folds.
Mason couldn’t remember the last time he had to handle himself. But muscle memory was a beautiful thing. He slicked the leaking precum over his length and stroked in time with her.
Her beautiful mouth was open now. Mason could almost hear her gasps. Her cries. His name on her lush lips. Mason imagined her writhing under him, her body tight around his, begging to come. Begging him to come inside her. The speed at which the fire overtook his body was insane. Intense.
Mason watched as her flushed body tensed and her head fell back as she climaxed spectacularly.
He was already on the edge when she lifted her head. Licking herself off her fingers she made eye contact with him. And winked.
She’d known he was watching!
Pleasure licked down his spine and tightened his balls in the fastest climb to orgasm he’d ever experienced. His body exploded. Over and over he came until he stood trembling and dazed wondering what the hell just happened to his self-control.
Chapter Three
June
Chloe tugged her silk blouse away from her sticky skin. Despite the thin cloth and swish of her loose linen trousers, the cloying heat of the day had taken its toll. What she needed now as a nice cool shower and a long break from the sultry Parisian air.
She keyed in her code and strode through the front door of her building, waving at the concierge as she approached.
“Mademoiselle? You have a parcel.”
The little man at the desk smiled as he held out a box. Though it wasn’t very big—flat and square but small enough to hold in one hand—it was quite heavy. She hadn’t been expecting anything, but sure enough it had her name on it. There wasn’t any postage on it so it had to have been hand-delivered.
The writing wasn’t familiar, however, so that ruled out Charles, at least as being the writer. It wasn’t his style, though. On the infrequent occasion that he’d given her a gift, he did so while face-to-face so he could see her expression. Mostly because he’d wanted her to acknowledge that he’d given her something.
But then who in the city—in this country—would send her anything? “Did you see who left it, Marcel?”
He shook his head as he circled the desk, his face crumpled with concern. “Désolé. It was left just before shift change this morning.”
Curiosity had already gripped her, however.
“I didn’t find anything strange about it. Should I take it away?”
Chloe shrugged. “Pas nécessaire, merci.”
Marcel nodded, though his expression was still unsure. “Let us know if there is anything else we can do.”
Chloe nodded as she started up the stairs. The urge to tear into the parcel had to be forcibly tamped down until she reached her apartment and had a chance to look at it properly.
It looked innocuous enough. The plain brown paper didn’t reveal anything sinister. Another look at the handwriting didn’t tell her anything she hadn’t already discerned in the foyer.
Picking up a knife, Chloe slid it under the flaps and cut the tape. A tug of the paper revealed a white, silken, high-quality paper underneath and a black silk bow.
Definitely not Charles.
In awe of the beautiful simplicity of the gift-wrapped box, she lifted it and pushed the other paper aside. There was a little note tucked into the ribbon written in the same economic script.
Where this for me tonight. –M
Heat blasted through Chloe.
Since that night a month ago where she’d caught her neighbor watching her through the
window and they’d had a mutually satisfying masturbation session, it had become almost a nightly ritual.
There was just something so illicit and sexy about playing with herself in full view of a man she didn’t know. Sure, they seemed to watch each other whenever they were both home. They practically had dinner together every night. Besides the fact that she didn’t know his name, this was probably the closest she’d gotten to a stable long-term relationship. How sad was that?
And yet she was content with this arrangement. There were no questions. No accusations. No stress. No annoyance. As far as she was concerned, it was the perfect setup.
But it seemed her partner wanted to change things up a little. And he’d given her an initial to go by.
M.
She ran names beginning with the letter through her mind. What would his name be? Mathieu? Milo? Marc? Max?
No, he didn’t look like any of them.
Putting the note aside, Chloe ran her finger along the ribbon, enjoying the feel of the fine silk a moment. What could it be?
She had an inkling. There were few things that came in a flat box of this size.
There was a slight tremor in her hand as she tugged the loops out of the bow. It fell away from the paper easily, releasing a flap that beckoned her fingers to open.
Chloe held her breath as she flipped the paper back to gasp as a velvet case with a very exclusive boutique’s gilded logo on the top was revealed.
The trembling had worsened as she lifted the lid. She lurched back, stunned at what she saw.
The glittering diamonds threatened to blind her even in the dim light. Earrings, a ring, a bracelet, and a magnificent necklace. The large gems were roped together with what looked like gleaming platinum. The whorls held diamonds of various sizes in a design that looked entirely unique.
It took her a long moment to begin breathing again. A little longer to build up the courage to touch them and determine they weren’t a figment of her imagination.
They weren’t. She might not have been a gemologist but Chloe was sure the stones were genuine.
So, M wanted her to wear these tonight for their little game? She ran her fingers over them again. He would absolutely get what he asked for.
****
Mason arrived at home a little later than usual. Of all days, it had to happen today.
It seemed like every single meeting had gone long, and the last had been the worst. He had been seconds away from tearing his hair out before he’d reached his limit and had all but shouted at everyone to go home. Then, of course, there was the traffic. The goddamn Parisian traffic.
The day had started out so promisingly. So far, what they’d had and were doing had gone above and beyond everything else he’d experienced. It was just so dirty. But it felt so right at the same time. How could something that felt so good be wrong?
And it wasn’t like she wasn’t into it.
Mason liked to believe that she was getting off on this just as much as he was. She had been there nightly seemingly just as eager as he was to engage.
Mason had the idea a week or so ago and decided to push the envelope. He just hoped she would be amenable and that he hadn’t ruined what was turning out to be the most stable relationship he’d ever had.
The night before, he had asked a few questions about the beautiful brunette from the concierge at her building. He didn’t ask for any details so as not to arouse more suspicion than he already had. All he wanted was her name and the chance to take this relationship, or whatever this was, further.
Biting his lip, he stood at his window as he tugged his tie off and discarded it along with his jacket.
Her windows were dark and he couldn’t discern any life within. Had she been creeped out? Was she out on a date? Perhaps she was running late too?
Grasping at straws was never his thing, but in this case, he was willing to cling to any reason she wouldn’t be there as long as it wasn’t her rejecting him for making a bold move.
As the seconds ticked by, however, hope trickled away. He’d loused it up. If it had been him, he’d probably would have gotten sick of waiting too.
The hope was this didn’t ruin things going forward.
Tearing the top button of his shirt loose, he turned to grab himself a drink.
The pessimist in him nagged the back of his mind that it was over. The best thing he’d had going for months and he’d screwed it up. Par for the course. Had he really expected something so good to last?
He sloshed a couple of fingers of scotch into a glass and took a swig. He’d fought tooth and nail for everything he had. Just once he’d hoped that something good would just fall into his lap and not be such a struggle. Obviously, that wasn’t about to happen.
Snorting, he took another sip only to nearly choke on it when he saw a light across the way.
Sitting on a plush chair in front of the window, just far enough to be out of sight of everyone but him, she sat. Legs crossed, leaned back, one finger tracing her full lips and the fingers of her other hand toying with the necklace.
Absolutely and gloriously nude besides the glittering gems.
Mason slammed the glass on the bar, not caring that his hasty movements splashed his drink all over it.
All he wanted was to get a better view. His appreciation for her inflated further. He’d found the perfect woman. Gorgeous. Daring. Mason had to get to know her better and find out if she was the whole package.
But all that could wait. He had a naked goddess waiting for his attention.
****
Chloe fought the urge to nibble her lip out of anxiety. She’d waited, not sure if he was ever going to show but the moment he had, icy tendrils of fear slithered down her veins. The last thing she wanted to do was ruin what they had. It had been good. Fun even. But what if things changed after this?
She’d seen the frustration in his body. He more than likely had a tough day that he hadn’t counted on. Seemed to her he could use a distraction.
Chloe flipped on the light before she chickened out.
The look on his face when he saw her made her forget every misgiving. Even at that distance she could see the hunger on his face. M was stunned in a very good way.
To have a man look at her with fire in his eyes and jaw tight with need was empowering. He looked about ready to tear across the street to get to her. But she saw his hands flex into fists a few times as he exerted his self-control. He looked as if the slightest thing would break it but for the moment he was hanging on.
Chloe ran the finger that had been at her mouth down over her chin, along the column of her neck, over the swell of her breast to circle the already puckered nipple.
Was that a strange shadow over his groin or was he very happy to see her?
She was going to make sure that what looked like an impressive bulge wasn’t just a strange play of light.
Allowing a small smile to curve her lips, she brought both hands into play. She cupped her breasts and pushed them together watching him all the while.
She could almost hear the growl from him as he stepped closer to the window. If the look on his face had been fierce before, it was downright feral now.
Excitement electrified her. Goaded her movements.
Chloe knew no one else could see them. The angles and positions of the buildings made it impossible for anyone to see into an apartment unless directly across. As long as they stayed a few paces back from the window.
M came dangerously close to the window but seemed to retain enough sense to hang back a bit as he tugged the hem of his shirt loose from his trousers. He tore at the buttons as if the fabric strangled him. The gap his movement provided gave her a delicious glimpse of his abs and pecs.
But it was when he undid his trousers and freed his erection that her body throbbed in response.
Huge and already hard, he slowly stroked himself from root to tip as he held her gaze.
Chloe didn’t dare move for a moment, afraid the spell might be broken.
She forced herself to act, however. He wanted a show. He was going to get one.
Uncrossing her legs, but keeping them together, she leaned forward using her upper arms to press her breasts together. He nodded prompting her to play with them.
Licking her lips, she tilted her head. Chloe sat back once more to give him a good view as she dragged her hands down her neck to squeeze and weigh her breasts. She pinched her nipples moaning at the shocks of sensation that came from it.
As if he could hear her, M’s hand sped up a little as he ran the tip of his tongue over his own lips.
Chloe closed her eyes to savor the pleasure coursing through her. In her mind, he was the one touching her. Making her ache. Her movements grew rougher, more urgent. M wouldn’t be gentle. He was a man who knew what he wanted and he’d take it.
Far be it for her to keep anything from him.
She squeezed her breasts in her hands, a little harder than she was accustomed, but the ache was sublime and only caused more heat to pool between her thighs. Dragging her nails over the taut skin there, she hissed as the pain radiated over her skin. It only served to fuel the fire raging inside, however.
Chloe looked at the man across the way again and caught the telltale glint of moisture at the head of his cock. M used it to lubricate his hand.
How she wished she could feel him in hers. He’d be steely now. Hard, hot, and throbbing. She’d barely be able to close her hand around him. Chloe imagined him slick with his own arousal as she explored that beautiful cock. What would he taste like? Her mouth watered at the thought.
It would have been a simple matter of throwing on a long coat and walking across the street to find out.
As if divining her thoughts, he shook his head and nodded, staring pointedly at her legs.
At least that’s the feeling she got from the look he gave her. They’d seemed to be able to intuit each other’s moods, wants, and needs over their sessions so Chloe went with it.
Sliding forward on the chair, she eased her knees apart a tiny bit. She teased the fingers of one hand into the shadow between her thighs. Her other hand continued to cup and squeeze her breast.
