French Blue (25 page)

“Yes. Now.”

She whipped round, grabbed his hand and massaged her pussy with it. She half dragged him to the bed and bent over. Her hands slapped the cover. The whirr of a zip, and then she felt his hands under her cheeks and his cock nudging between her labia. The plug filled her in one way but she wanted total fulfilment. She wanted to be complete in every way.

Olivier eased himself inside her, and she groaned. The pressure of the plug and his cock massaged every intimate nerve ending, setting her alight. As he pushed his cock in and out again, she felt her climax building, and the reality hit her: Olivier had come back for her, even after she’d effectively pushed him away.

Now, with each thrust, he eased a little deeper into her, until she wanted to scream for release. Then her orgasm crashed over her, and she lost herself in the waves of sensation tearing through her body. For a few seconds, nothing mattered anymore and never would again.

Lisa’s breathing was warm against Olivier’s arm. Her lashes fluttered against her cheek, and the sheet was pulled over her breasts up to her neck. After he’d fucked her, he’d gently removed the plug and lain down next to her. He could see she was exhausted, physically and emotionally. His arm had gone to sleep, but he didn’t want to move. Having her lying beside him was torment and bliss, because when she woke, he would have to make the biggest gamble of his life.

She could only have dozed for a few minutes, drugged by their lovemaking, by her orgasm and the emotional release. He turned his head to glance at the clock. It was late afternoon now. He wasn’t sure what plans she had for the evening. Her family would by now certainly know he hadn’t taken her for a business meeting. They would want answers from her, and from him, if, by some miracle, she agreed to resume their relationship.

Lisa shifted and opened her eyes. “Olivier?”

The blood rushed into his numb arm, stinging him with pins and needles. She turned onto her stomach to watch him.

He smiled at her and stroked her hair. “
Oui, cherie
?”

“Are you okay? Have I been asleep for long?”

“Hours.”

Her mouth opened. “No!”

“A few minutes, maybe.”

“You tease.”

“Tease?” He laughed. “I think there’s a stronger word for it than that.”

“Hmm.” She leaned over to see the clock. “It’s quite late. I’ll have a lot of explaining to do when I get home.”

“An awful lot.”

She let out a sigh. “Except I’m not ready to go back home yet.” Olivier’s cock twitched as her hand cupped his balls. His heart skipped a beat. He had to tell her now. She didn’t want to go home. That was a good thing. This was the best chance he would ever have.

From the floor on Lisa’s side of the bed, her mobile rang out. She sank back on the pillow and closed her eyes. “Damn.”

“Don’t answer it.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Then don’t.”

She turned to him, eyes open. “It might be about Bella.”

He hesitated, torn between saying it wouldn’t be—yet how could he know that? No matter how much he wanted her to stay in his world, away from any other, he couldn’t take the chance. “It might…”

“I know, I know, I’m worrying too much.” She gave a rueful smile that was as sexy as it was disarming, but she was already pushing herself up the pillows.

“Let me check the screen. If it’s Abi or Mum, I’ll answer. If it’s anyone else, I promise I won’t answer it.”

Olivier lay back as Lisa slid out of bed and reached for her phone. Even as she picked it up, he saw the stiffening of her spine. She sat upright as if she’d just been caught out in class by a teacher. His heart beat a little faster.

She glanced at him for a second, then he got a rueful smile and a mouthed
sorry, it’s New York
.

He made his decision as she said the words, “Hello, Lisa Archer here.”

Chapter Twenty

Four weeks later

Everything was dark again. The mask over Lisa’s eyes had once again removed her of the privilege and burden of sight. She lay on her back waiting for the caress of the whip across her breasts and thighs, thrilling and fearing the sharp sting when the leather tails cracked down on her tender flesh. Waiting for the delicious sting that would be followed by Olivier’s hands caressing her body, by his flesh on hers.

“Olivier…”

“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. We’ll shortly be landing at Stansted. Please return your seats to the upright position and ensure your seat belts are securely fastened.”

Lisa pushed the eye mask from her. Oh fuck, she hoped she hadn’t been enacting out her dream. Had there been any suspicious squirming from under the airline blanket? Any peculiar groans and sighs? Mercifully, she realised her hands were still at her sides, the fingers tightly curled, not between her legs. She tried to coax life back into her stiff limbs, feeling crumpled on the inside as well as out. She’d got a yellow cab straight to JFK after a full day at the office and only just made the flight. There had been no time to change into something more comfortable from her bag. She only had the weekend back home before she had to get back to New York on the Monday-morning flight, but she wouldn’t have missed Bella’s naming ceremony for the world. Her contract was going well, and she owed herself this break. The thought of cuddling her precious niece again brought a warm glow into her cold body.

As the pressure increased, she sat back in her seat. Dreaming of Olivier had been a mixed blessing. She ached to see him again, ached to have him finish what he’d begun in her dream, but knew he never would. She hadn’t even heard from him. Not since he’d walked out of the hotel room four weeks ago while she’d taken that call from her new boss. All he’d left was a note, with the words.

Chere Lisa,

I think this is the moment to say good-bye. Forgive me for not being able to do it in person, but I know it’s better to leave it this way. If you care for me, don’t try to contact me, but simply live your new life. I will never forget you, Lisa, and though you may not realise it, you have changed my life. I hope I helped you realise some of your dreams and that you go on to realise so many more.

Adieu, cherie,

Olivier xx

The moment she’d reentered the sitting room of the hotel suite, phone in hand, and found it empty, she’d known what had happened. Olivier had disappeared into the bathroom while she’d talked to her new client, dressed and gone into the sitting area. When she’d ended her call and gone into the sitting room, he’d vanished. She’d thrown on a robe, raced out of her hotel room and down to the lobby to find him. She hadn’t been on the phone for more than a few minutes—he might still be in the building.

People had turned and stared at her, this bare-footed, wild-haired woman in a crumpled robe. She hadn’t cared, but he was nowhere to be found.

She knew why he’d left, or thought she did, yet the realisation had still knifed into her. Their contract was complete; they’d given each other more than they’d ever expected or agreed to. She should rejoice in the woman she was now: fearless—Jody was history. She could move on to other lovers. Other Doms, other relationships.

But she only wanted Olivier.

So many moments since she’d picked up that call, she’d ached to phone him, but she hadn’t. Why? For his sake or hers?

He’d done the courageous, sensible thing. He’d ended it cleanly, brutally—but in the end, he’d been the kind one.

Their lives were too different. They were on different continents, for God’s sake. And he was an artist, a short-term, risk-taking Dom.

She was the cautious, controlled expert in creating a façade. He was the seeker after truth, the uncoverer, the explorer through art.

If she lived with him, she would be stripped and exposed every day of her life. And one day he would leave.

Spending three months with him had been a controlled and carefully contained and managed risk. She couldn’t take the risk long term. Lisa sat upright in her seat, trying to focus on the sprawl of streets and buildings below her. Her eyes were gritty, blurry, surely a consequence of spending seven hours on an aircraft, not because she felt like sobbing her heart out in the middle of the Virgin Business Class cabin.

“Lisa! You look knackered! Let me take your bag.”

Mrs. Archer opened the front door.

Lisa kissed her cheek. “Thanks, Mum. Is Abi here?”

“Yes, I am.”

Down the hall, Abi stood with Bella, who had one chubby hand on the wall and one clutched tightly in Abi’s.

“Oh my God. She’s walking!”

Abi glanced down, and her jaw dropped just as Bella let go of her hand and the wall and staggered forward drunkenly. One step, two, her smile as wide as a mile before she fell backwards onto her bottom and let out a wail.

“Oh God! Is she okay?” Mrs. Archer called.

Lisa rushed forward and scooped her up, laughing and trying to jolly her niece out of realising the momentousness of what she’d just done.

“Those are her first steps. She’s been on the verge for days, but she waited for you. Typical!”

Hugging her snuffling niece, Lisa started laughing. “She did. She did. Well done, Bella, waiting for Auntie Lisa to come home.” Bella stared at Lisa through huge, dark brown eyes, shocked into quiet by her aunt’s laughter.

“You are a little star, darling. Thank you for that.”

Lisa felt the touch of a tiny hand on her cheek, which tingled almost painfully. Her stomach lurched with love and pride and then, oh shit, held-back tears stung her eyes. Her cheek under Bella’s fingers was wet.

“Shall I put the kettle on?” asked Mrs. Archer, as Lisa held back her tears.

“I’d love that, Mum.”

Lisa listened to the sounds of their mother bustling about the kitchen and felt more relieved to be home than she ever had, then dismissed the thoughts.

“Are you okay?” Abi’s voice was careful.

Bella was quiet now, twisting a strand of Lisa’s hair around her finger. Lisa looked into Abi’s face but could hardly see for the tears that were pouring down her cheeks and wouldn’t stop. She felt Abi’s hand on her arm.

“Oh, Lisa, what’s the matter, hun? What’s happened?”

“I can’t say… I can’t talk about him.”

“Come into the sitting room.”

They sat side by side on the sofa while Bella made her way around the room by means of the furniture.

“So it is the French heartbreaker?” Abi’s eyes were full of concern. “I
knew
Olivier wasn’t a business acquaintance. You might be good at hiding your feelings in a press conference, but you can’t fool me.”

“I don’t see how it can work. He’s in France, I’m in New York, for God’s sake.”

“How long are you in the States for?”

“Another four and a half months, and they might ask me to stay on.”

“Four months isn’t long, and then you can decide. There are planes, aren’t there? I hear they can even fly over the Atlantic these days.”

Abi raised an eyebrow. Lisa gulped. “Yes, but…”

“But what? This is my super-efficient, overachieving sister here. The woman who can make CEOs quiver, quell a journalist with a withering look, the queen of the cutting riposte.”

“That’s not me. That’s the Other Lisa.”

“Then what does the Real One want?”

“You know what I want, but we can’t have what we want, can we? Olivier and I, we’re poles apart. You have no idea.”

“I have an idea that you love him, and judging by him turning up here and the way he couldn’t take his freaking eyes off you the whole time, I think he may possibly feel the same way about you. By the way, have I ever told you how much I hated you that afternoon? A divinely hot and disgustingly rich French sex bomb turns up on the doorstep and is so into my sister, I could scream.”

Lisa couldn’t help but smile and rubbed the back of her hand over her eyes and sniffed. God, she was like a teenager again. Olivier had brought her to this: raw and naked, just as he’d promised all those months ago.

“Of course, I want him, but how am I going to make it work? Olivier and I had…” She was about to say
an arrangement
, but stopped just in time. “We agreed that there would be nothing serious between us because I knew I had to start my new job.”

“You mean he’s only a shag buddy? Lisa, I’m shocked! Can this really be my oh-so-conservative sister? The one who freaked out if her pencils weren’t arranged according to the spectrum? The one who made Mum iron her doll’s clothes and hit the roof when I so much as looked at her favourite lipstick?”

“If you hadn’t noticed, I’m all grown up now, and yes, it’s me. And the reason I thought it was okay to have that kind of fling with Olivier, apart from him being divinely sexy as you put it, was because the last time I took a risk, it cost my job and totally fucked me up!”

There. She’d shocked Abi. Her sister’s mouth was open. She let out a long, slow breath. “Whoa. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make light of what Jody did. He was a shit.”

“He was, but I was also stupid not to realise what might and probably would happen. I have to share some of the responsibility.”