She reached over me, her breasts pressing against my torso, and I slid my hands down her back to her arse. When she straightened up, she presented me with condom from the bedside table.
“Make me come again and I’ll go with you.”
I chuckled. “You’re bargaining with me?”
She scrunched up her nose. “Am I?” She shrugged. “I don’t think so. I think no matter what, you’re going to make me come again, given—” She slid her pussy down my cock and gasped. “Given past experience. And as for your party, I’m not sure I’m capable of saying no to you.”
“Fuck, Hollie.” A couple of weeks ago, I’d never laid eyes on this woman. How was that even possible? The things she was saying, the way she was making me feel. Whenever I was with her, it was as if the concept of time was different. Just during the course of this evening, it was as if months had gone by and she knew me in a way few others did.
I ripped open the condom, slid it on and then reached for the base of my cock, ready to have her sit on me.
She lifted up and slid her hands down her thighs, throwing her head back as she lowered herself onto me. I was wrong—we might be floating in space, but this wasn’t a black hole we were nearing. We were lying firmly in heaven.
I deliberately never looked forward when I was in a relationship with a woman. I operated in the present—I liked her. The sex was good—that’s all I needed to know. But with Hollie, I couldn’t help but think of what was next—the way I was going to cook her eggs tomorrow morning, the party on Saturday, the fact that I was certain another few weeks wasn’t going to be enough with this woman.
“What are you thinking about?” she asked as she sat still, my cock inside of her.
“How much I like you sitting on my dick,” I replied.
She laughed and pressed her palms onto my chest, the shift creating a wave of pleasure. “Well, I like sitting on your dick, so I guess we’re the perfect pair.”
I dug my fingertips into her arse and pulled her deep onto me. She swiveled her hips as we both groaned. “I guess we are,” I said. “Oh, and no, I’ve never had sex this spectacular either.”
She rolled her lips back, trying to fight a grin. “Lay off the fondue,” she said. It wasn’t a line. Suddenly she paused. “You got to promise me something?”
“Anything,” I replied without even thinking about it.
“I know this is just . . . I’m not in London long and you’re . . . Well you’re you and I’m just some girl from Nowhere, Oregon—”
The six thousand miles between where we’d each built our lives was an obstacle to a future together, but where exactly she’d come from was completely immaterial “Hey, Hollie—you’re you and I’m me. I don’t care if you live in a castle or—”
She placed her fingers over my lips. “All I’m saying is, don’t say things you don’t mean. Don’t make promises you won’t keep, and don’t pretend to be anything you’re not. Let’s just enjoy these weeks together.”
It was an easy deal to agree to. Except weeks didn’t seem long enough. Even now.
Fourteen
Dexter
I pulled up my collar against the biting wind and out of the corner of my eye, saw the familiar blue-green of Hollie’s eyes. I turned my head to see a scarf in the window of Hermes, stretched as if it were a canvas in a museum.
As I stepped closer, I could see the colors were a swirl of feathers, each one a different shade of blue or green doing its best to block out the black image of a panther hiding beneath. Hollie would love this. The colors were her completely—the blue and green would bring out her eyes and her black hair echoed the big cat. The combination of soft and fierce would suit her too.
I pulled out my phone to take a picture, to show Primrose how the colors worked together and how the flat image managed to produce a sense of movement. She could take inspiration from this for the collection that we’d begin work on after the competition was over.
I took a snap on my phone and shoved it back in my pocket.
Yeah, it would really suit Hollie. I could imagine it bunched around her neck or draped over her naked body.
I checked my watch. I had ten minutes before I was to meet Beck and Stella for lunch. I headed inside the shop and it took less than half that time to purchase the scarf. The assistant folded it intricately then covered it with ribbons, tissue and a box.
With my orange gift bag, I headed south onto Piccadilly, which is when the realization of what I’d done hit me full force. A Hermes scarf wasn’t the same as picking up the bill for dinner. A gift like this was a big deal, wasn’t it? And Hollie and I had made a deal—not to make promises I wouldn’t keep, say things I didn’t mean or be anything I wasn’t.