The End of Faking It

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.