Found (4 page)

Alexander / Marc:

I’d meant my words to tease. From her expression, I gathered that I’d instead inflicted a mortal wound. Her face just went blank for a few seconds, then she shook her head wryly. “A legacy of the ex, I guess,” she said lightly.

She wasn’t okay. I didn’t know how I knew; I just did. “Come here,” I said. I pulled her next to me and my fingers stroked her body gently. Not to arouse, just to soothe. I had no idea why I acted the way I did. She was a stranger from a bar. A woman to spend the night with, nothing more.

No. I lied all the time. But I had never lied to myself.

There was no way Rachel was just a woman to spend the night with. For starters, I’d never brought a woman to this house. There were too many real memories attached to this place. And I’d never yet ached to comfort a woman, to fold her into my arms and kiss her troubles away the way I did with her. I pulled her naked body into mine and ignored my aching cock. “You okay, bright star?”

“Why do you call me that?”

I smiled inwardly. She’d lit up the bar when she’d walked in, with her quiet self-confidence, looking like she could take on anyone and anything. She’d been fearless then; she was fearless now. Courage wasn’t never feeling afraid. Having walked into battle time and time again, I spoke from experience. Courage was staying the course despite your fear. And Rachel? I sensed she would understand exactly what I was talking about.

“It suits you,” I said instead, matching her forced tone of lightness. Revealing my thoughts would have been too close to real honesty.

“Kiss me again, Marc,” she replied.

I knew what she was doing – I’d done it too many times myself. Sex as avoidance. Sex as a coping strategy. I wasn’t about to criticize her for it. She was naked next to me and my cock wanted in that soft, hot pussy so much I was in pain.

My fingers traced a pathway down her soft curves till I found the puffy lips of her cunt, slippery and wet with desire. My face followed. I wanted to savour each and every inch of her body. She moaned as my mouth made contact and her thighs tightened around my face. “Keep those legs parted for me, Rachel,” I ordered.

She shook her head with sweet defiance. “You are being bossy again,” she pointed out. She wriggled her body until she’d turned around, her lips just inches from my cock. I was leaking precum and I was more turned on than I’d ever been in my life at the idea of her mouth on me. “Now,” she said, her voice rich with satisfaction, “I can explore too.”

As much as I liked oral sex, it always seemed a little one-sided to me. One partner gave pleasure, the other partner received it. But not this position. Her lips around my dick, my tongue lapping at her juices, our groans of lust mingling with each other? This was pleasure both given and received.

Also, not to be crass about it, but she could give head like a champion. I was pretty damn well endowed. She still took me down her throat with ease, humming around my cock till I was struggling not to blow my load. I redoubled my focus on the sweet pussy in front of me, my fingers parting those lips so my tongue could feast on the treat within.

Every moan she made sent a shockwave of arousal through me. Every twitch of the muscles in her cunt had me fisting my fingers and struggling to hold off my climax. She was wet, naked, trembling, aroused. She was a drug in my bloodstream. The pulsing in my veins.

“Fuck,” she groaned as my tongue lapped at her clitoris. I felt her quiver around my fingers and her hips tried to pull away. I wasn’t having any of it. I intended to bring this woman to orgasm, again and again until the only thought she could form in her head was my name.

No. She would call me Marc, not Alexander, and Marc wasn’t my name. But I wasn’t going to let reality intrude into this moment. This was my stolen interlude and damn it, it was going to stay that way. It was precisely because I didn’t want any reminder of my life that I’d switched off my phone. Even though an operation that I’d spent months planning was in progress as the same time I made her body wriggle in pleasure.

She pushed her lower body into my face and wrapped her legs around my head. I smothered a grin. Demanding little chit. I would have loved to tie her up to each corner of my bed and have my way with her. She wouldn’t have been able to shy away then. Surrendering to the pleasure would be her only way forward.

I put my hands on her thighs, smacking them lightly. She jumped a little, half-groaning, half-laughing. “Warn me if you are going to spank me?” she said.

The spanking had been instinctive. I was glad she was laughing, not running away screaming.

I refocused on her body. I pushed two fingers deep into her wet pussy and another finger teased at her tight asshole. Her groan around my cock was sweet reward. “Do you want this?” I asked her as my finger sank into that hole, knuckle deep.

“Mmm,” she moaned. Her tongue swirled around the head of my cock and she increased the suction of her lips.

I pumped my fingers in and out of her slickness, keeping my tongue flickering against her clitoris. She ground her hips into me. I could sense she was close, so close to the edge and I wanted her to fall over. I sucked her hot bundle of nerves between my teeth, nipping slightly.

That was it.
Her muscles quivered around my fingers, clenching at them, milking them. Talented as her mouth was, right now my cock was demanding to know why it wasn’t in her tight little cunt, feeling her climax ripple through her body. I had no answer. I just licked and sucked and dragged out that moment as she slowly came off her peak.

I couldn’t wait anymore. I had a condom in my wallet, more for precaution than anything else. I found it, tore the packet open and thrust into her.

If I’d thought even for one second that she would have been be shy or bashful, I would have been wrong. She wrapped her legs around my back and pulled me closer. “Yes,” she moaned, throwing her head back. “Fuck me.”

I was happy to comply. My lips ground into hers as I claimed her body, pounding deep and hard and fast into her hot, tight cunt. She hissed and arched herself into me, urging me on. Her nails clawed down my back, my teeth bit into her shoulder. My fingers pinched those cherry-red nipples and she screamed her pleasure.

She was
spectacular
. I slowed my pace slightly and did multiplication tables in my head so I could last longer. Each slide of my cock through her tunnel felt like heaven.

She growled at me. She actually growled. I chuckled at her little flash of temper. “You don’t set the pace here, bright star,” I told her. I lifted her wrists over her head, holding them in place with my hand, angling my body so I raked her clitoris with each thrust. “I do.”

In response, she clenched the muscles of her pussy around my cock. “Do you?” she winked at me. “Of course.”

Tease. I covered that smirking mouth with mine, smiling at her sass. The noise of sex filled the room. The squelching of her wet pussy. Heavy breathing. Little moans of pleasure and strings of curse words. I was shuddering with each thrust, trying so hard to hold off my climax. My fingers let go of her wrists and sought out her clitoris, wanting to feel those quivers around my dick as I came. “Close,” she clenched out at me. “I’m really close.”

“Don’t hold back, Rachel,” I urged through gritted teeth, stroking her sex. I felt her start to tremble. Her thighs tensed and her cunt clamped down on my cock, and I couldn’t withstand it anymore. I grabbed her hips, pounding her hard and I exploded.

Ellie / Rachel:

It should have been awkward. He was a total stranger and I’d never been in this situation before.

It wasn’t awkward at all.

We drank more wine. We showered together. My hands roamed over every inch of his body. His eyes drank me in as if he were dying of thirst and I alone could quench his desire.

My phone lay on the counter in the kitchen where I’d placed it. I ignored it. I had six hours and I was determined to enjoy every second of it.

I teased him about the lack of food in his refrigerator. He shrugged. “I’m French, Rachel,” he pointed out with an amused curl of his lips. “I can guarantee wine and nothing else.”

Was he French? He could have been except he didn’t have an accent when he spoke English. He concealed much, Marc, and though I should have been on edge about his lies, I didn’t let them intrude. The only thing that mattered was the way his body felt against mine, the feel of his lips touching me and the heat in his eyes when he looked at me. And the fact that I wasn’t afraid of him.

He found a packet of condoms in the bathroom and held them up with triumph. I giggled at his expression and solemnly told him he was setting himself quite a goal. There were a dozen condoms in his hand. “Surely,” I joked, “that’s ambitious.”

“Is it?” His blue eyes held my gaze. “Come prove me right, bright star.”

So I pushed him down on the bed and climbed over him, lowering my pussy over his sheathed cock. And his hands closed around my breasts and his eyes wandered over my body as I bounced on him, chasing another climax.

He flipped me around and positioned me on my hands and knees, entering me from behind with a thrust that caused as much pain as it did pleasure. I should have cringed away, but instead I curved into him and demanded more.

And when we finally couldn’t keep our eyes open, I gave into his demand that I stay in his bed and I lay in his arms all night.

***

When I woke, it was daylight and the smell of coffee wafted through the house. My clothes were on a chair in the bedroom but Marc himself was nowhere to be seen and I was somewhat relieved. I didn’t want to say goodbye. It would have been too hard.

I dressed and made my way downstairs. My phone was still on the kitchen counter, still turned off. There was a note next to it.
‘Fetching breakfast,’
it said.

It was the perfect opportunity to leave quietly, but I was weak. I was desperate for a few more minutes with him. I poured myself a cup of coffee and wandered once again to the backyard garden.

Last night it had been too dark to notice much, but in the daylight the place was beautiful. Flowers bloomed everywhere. Tiny wild roses, large and showy poppies, bushes upon bushes of purple lavender. The garden was well-tended, but there was still an intentional wildness to it that fit the space.

“Good morning Rachel.”

I jumped, startled. I hadn’t noticed him come out. Not too many people could sneak up to me. “You scared me,” I accused.

He flashed me a grin. “Sorry, bright star,” he said. He came up and snaked his fingers through my hair, pulling me into his body to kiss me, deeply, passionately. My heart was racing when he released me. “Breakfast?” He held up a paper bag. The aroma of croissants wafted out and I stifled my moan. I hadn’t eaten last night and I was starving. “
Pain au chocolat?
” he asked, digging into the bag. He offered me the pastry and I whimpered a little.
Oh god chocolate.
I adored chocolate. And the combination of chocolate and bread made the perfect food. Other people came to Paris for the Eiffel Tower. Me, I was a sucker for the
boulengeries
.

My expression must have revealed naked want, because he chuckled. “Would you like a plate or would you prefer to tear into the bag?”

I stuck my tongue out at him. “Are you going to talk or are you going to eat?” I asked in turn, biting into the delicious pastry. “Oh god, this is so good.”

We sat in the garden, drinking coffee and eating the croissants he’d brought. “I’m every American tourist stereotype, aren’t I?” I asked.

He flashed me a look. “American tourists don’t wander into Saint Denis.”

I didn’t miss a beat. “Yeah,” I lied fluently, making a face. “It was an apartment rental, but I didn’t check the map to see where it was located. I should have known something was wrong when it was so cheap.”

He smiled and his dimples deepened in a way that made me want to kiss them all over again. “All alone in this neighborhood?” His fingers brushed a strand of hair away. “You are a brave woman, Rachel.”

“I have friends in the city,” I replied. I looked at him. I needed to pretend that it had just dawned on me that the day was ticking away and I would have to leave. But all morning long, each second had sounded like a gong in my heart.
The ending was almost upon me
. “I should go. I have to meet up with them.”

“Let me drive you back,” he said. I nodded my thanks. I was prepared for his offer; I had the address of an apartment building ready. A crumbling concrete slum set in the suburbs of Paris. Our real safe-house was nearby and it looked remarkably similar.

We got into the car and drove the short distance. When he saw the building, he looked unhappy. “You did get cheated,” he said. “Please find somewhere else to stay. This isn’t the nicest part of town.” His eyes twinkled at me as he repeated the words I’d indignantly uttered to him last night. “Even if you speak excellent French, you will still stand out here.”

“I’ll take care of it,” I assured him. I turned towards him in the car and looked at him. “I had fun,” I started. It sounded so ridiculously inadequate. I owed him so much for allowing me to finally surmount my fears.

“I’d like to see you again,” he said directly.

“Me too,” I replied. The words weren’t a lie but I knew I could never allow it. Dylan McAllister was alive and each day he lived was an intolerable burden on my soul. He had to die. That was my only priority. As much as I wanted to linger here with Marc, this was an end. “Let me give you my number,” I said.

I gave him the number of my burner phone and he dialled it. When my phone rang, he smiled at me. “Now you have my number as well.” He leaned forward to kiss me. “I’ll see you soon, Rachel,” he promised.

No you won’t,
I thought silently. I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I’d like that,” I replied. “Au revoir, Marc.”

I refused to let him walk upstairs, telling him I was fine. He stayed as I entered the grimy stairwell and it wasn’t until I was done climbing three stories that I saw his car pull away. I waited ten more minutes as a precaution before coming back downstairs and walking towards the safe-house.

As I walked, I reached for the burner phone and removed the SIM card, tossing it in a nearby overflowing trashcan. My fingers snapped the instrument into two, and each part was scattered in different bins on my way back to Lucien.

The tears kept forming in my eyes but I kept blinking them away.