Lost in You (12 page)

Another growl and he thrust deep, sliding into me almost too fast. Filling me almost too much. But it wasn’t too much, not really. It was perfect. Our bodies fitted together as if designed for such a thing. Slow and easy union, fast and rough coupling – it didn’t matter. It worked on levels no other physical relationship ever had before.

The tip of him bumped insistently against the swollen, tender places deep inside me. Another orgasm was rushing towards me and, in a moment of wonder, I bowed my body lower, almost pressing my head to the windowsill. It forced my body back more, drove me against him, and got him deeper. His voice wasn’t human any more, it seemed. The noises that came from him were more like those of a mammal than a man.

I sobbed with pleasure as he found my clit with his big finger. When he swirled circles over me it was with a pressure and a rhythm I’d never used. It was startling and beautiful and within moments I was biting my lip to keep from coming.

He leaned over me, teeth at the back of my neck, scraping inexorably down towards my shoulder. ‘I like when you’re under me. Like when you’re
mine
.’ The emphasis on ‘mine’, in conjunction with the sharp abuse from his teeth, had me groaning. I couldn’t stop it. It all happened too fast.

‘Coming. I’m coming,’ I sobbed and pushed back once more so that he was fully seated inside me when I did.

Tears doubled then tripled my vision and I let go with the intensity of it. My face wet, my body prostrated before him. His fingers bit into the meat of my hips, his body slamming against mine.

‘Jesus, Clover,’ he gasped. ‘Fuck.’

And then he was coming too. His fingers never letting up as he held my skin. Gripped me tight. Made me his.

* * *

We showered together for the second time. This time just touching. This time just soaping. Lots of kissing. And an ache in my heart – a melancholy wound – that this would end. It was going to end and the closer we got to the inevitable, the more my chest hurt. The more my heart cramped.

He touched my forehead, smoothed my wet hair. We were both clean then, just standing under the spray as an excuse to stay naked and close. I had to restrain myself from gripping him too tight. Holding on like a drowning person clutching a life preserver.

‘Hey, what’s going on in there? I didn’t hurt you, did I?’

‘With your mad caveman love skills,’ I teased. I wanted to feel fun and playful. Instead, I felt as if I had to pick and choose every word very carefully so that I didn’t give away the sadness inside me.

‘Yes, you know, you Clover, me Dorian.’ He beat his chest.

‘That’s Tarzan not caveman,’ I snickered.

‘Whatever. Potato, po-tah-toe.’

I shook my head and laughed again. It was a little forced but still felt good.

Dorian tilted my chin up so I had to look at him. ‘Hey, really, what’s going on in there?’

‘Nothing.’ Then I laughed outright. ‘What’s new, right? Nothing going on inside my head. Empty up there.’

He frowned. The water began to go tepid. In a moment it would be downright cold. He cut the flow and then it was suddenly chilly in the big tile box that served as an executive shower. ‘Hey, now, that’s a girl I’m pretty fond of you’re talking about.’

My cheeks grew hot and I looked away. Searching for a towel, a rip cord, an escape hatch. Anything that would allow me not to look directly at him as we had this conversation. ‘Oh. Sorry. I was just kidding.’

‘Clover, did I do something?’

‘No.’

‘Are you angry with me?’

‘No.’ I shook my head. I felt so fucking stupid. How many girls were instantly wooed by him? Why should I be any different? He was charming and self-deprecating, chivalrous and funny. He’d made being trapped in a big scary mall seem almost fun.

He’d chased away my nightmares and my fear …

I shook my head again and took a huge, deep breath. ‘I am fine. I think I’m just worried about Gram and –’

‘But the storm is ending soon,’ he said, smiling. He looked relieved. He leaned in and kissed me. First on the lips, then on the head. He smoothed my hair and patted my ass as if we’d been lovers for months, not just hours. ‘And all will be well. We’ll get out of here and get on with our lives. We can get T-shirts that say we survived the super-storm.’

I tried on a smile. It made my face hurt. ‘Yep, we can get out of here,’ I echoed. Wishing that it didn’t make me want to hang my head and cry.

* * *

By three the rain had ended. By four the wind had died. By seven we could leave.

‘Are you sure I can’t drive you home?’

I smiled at him, touched his chest through his shirt. The roads now held traffic again. The sky was no longer clogged with clouds.

‘I’m sure. I can’t leave my car and I need to check on my grandmother. I’m not really going to feel better until I see for myself that she’s OK. Brani, too.’

He smiled at me before reaching out to stroke my jaw. ‘You’re such a good person,’ he said.

I looked away. ‘Just a normal person,’ I said.

‘Not to me.’ He kissed me. I felt myself stiffen initially, but then I figured, screw it. Might as well enjoy that last fairy-tale kiss. Might as well soak up that last instant of magic. We’d spent hours putting the mall back the way we’d found it. The restaurant, the bed, the café. And then we’d walked to the top ramp by the theatre and looked out over the streets below at the rain and debris.

‘Thank you,’ I said. I finally managed to pull back. If I stayed too close to Dorian, fell too deeply into that kiss, I’d never manage to extricate myself.

‘Are you angry with me?’ he asked.

Just being realistic, is all.

‘No. Why?’

Concern was in his eyes but he smiled at me. Took my hand and squeezed it. ‘No reason, I guess. You just seem … off.’

‘Just anxious, I guess.’

He smiled. I loved that smile. ‘Well, go on. See your Gram. Give her my love. Tell her I’m glad they’re OK.’

‘I will.’

‘Can I call you, Clover? See you again?’

‘Sure.’

He didn’t really mean it. That was OK. I was sure he had no idea that he’d never call.

I kissed him fast and squeezed his hand. ‘Thanks,’ I said. ‘If possible, you made this fun. I’ll never –’

I swallowed hard around a sudden and suffocating lump in my throat.

‘Just thanks, is all,’ I said. Then I did the smart thing. I turned from him and fled to my car. When I managed to start it, it was with shaking fingers.

PLEASE CALL, CLOVER.

I turned the screen on my phone off. Considered sending a text to say I was busy but would call later. It wasn’t as if he’d hassled me. It wasn’t as if he was a stalker. He was just a very rich, very nice guy who had some grand illusion, from the scenario in which we’d met, that we could be compatible. I was smarter than that. Time together outside in real life would only show him how poorly he’d judged. What a big mistake he’d made.

It had only been a few days since our time there. He’d get the idea eventually. If I just held strong, Dorian would come to the conclusion on his own.

‘What’s up, little lady? You look sad.’ Mario leaned against the courtesy desk, his painter’s whites splattered with coloured flecks.

‘I’m fine.’ I tried on a smile and it didn’t even work for me. ‘Just a lot in my head.’

‘Your grandmother, she was fine after that monster storm, yeah?’

I nodded, grateful for friends like him. ‘Yes. She was fine. Thank you for remembering her.’

He grinned at me. ‘Nah. Thank
you
for sending us home so I could be with all my girls for the storm.’

He had one wife, three daughters. The only man in the house, Mario often joked he was outnumbered. Then he’d come clean and say he loved every minute of it.

‘I’m glad you were there. It was a hell of a storm.’ My fingers ran over and over the phone in my jacket pocket. I felt it buzz again.

He raised an eyebrow at me as a bunch of his crew hurried past lugging scaffolding. ‘Be there in a minute,’ he called to them. Then he followed with something in rapid-fire Spanish. I reminded myself for the billionth time to learn some Spanish.

‘What’s up, Mario? I am sensing that I’m being cornered.’

He shook his head. ‘Nah. Not cornered. I’m just worried about you. I mean, if I weren’t already married I’d ask you to be my wife.’ He winked at me because it was a standing joke.

I let myself laugh at the joke. But the laughter felt forced. ‘No need to be concerned.’

‘But I think there is. You seem sad, Clover. Just wanted to make sure you were OK. I heard you were trapped here with Mr Rich and Bossy. I just wanted to make sure …’ His face grew dark for a fleeting second and it hit me. He thought something bad had happened.

He shrugged. ‘I wanted to make sure nothing had happened that I’d need to step in and take care of. As a man. Who cares about you.’

I blinked hard because I felt like I was going to cry. Then I laughed. Then I did actually cry. Mario looked flustered but reached in his pocket and handed me a clean, neatly folded handkerchief. Had to be courtesy of Mrs Mario, I thought wildly as I dabbed my eyes.

‘I was trapped here with him,’ I laughed. ‘But nothing happened – nothing
bad
happened,’ I amended. ‘No need for you to defend my honour. But I love you for it.’

He smiled. ‘You sure? Because you have not been yourself since that storm, Clover.’

I nodded. ‘I’m sure. He was very nice to me, Mario. He was a good man. I just …’ I shrugged. ‘We got along fine. You have nothing to worry about. But thank you for worrying anyway.’ I smiled, wiped my eyes again.

Mario narrowed his eyes at me. ‘You … and he …’ He sighed. ‘You got along. Did you
like
him, Clover?’

‘Mario …’ I looked at him before shaking my head. ‘He was a nice, polite man. It was fine. Now I have a ton of stuff to do and you have a crew to boss around.’

He laughed, tilting his head back far enough and laughing loud enough that I could see the fillings in his teeth. ‘I know a brush-off when I hear one. Off I go. But you know where to find me if you need to talk. Or you could come home and talk to Esme. Or you could tell me if you’re actually fibbing and I can go kick his rich-boy ass.’

I shooed him off. ‘Go. Go. It’s all fine. He was fine. I was fine. We weathered the storm. Now back to regular boring old life.’

In more ways than one …

My phone buzzed again and I glanced at it. No way was he texting me that often. It was an unfamiliar number.

PLEASE COME TO THE DOME. URGENT.

‘Shit,’ I whispered. It had to be the specialist. I hurried down the halls, forcing myself to have tunnel vision. The Rotunda was now haunted for me. Everywhere I looked I saw us walking, holding hands, kissing. In other places the ghosts of our time together were worse. I could hear his laughter, see him smiling, smell his skin.

I rushed on, my heels clacking on the clay-coloured tile. You need to snap out of it, I told myself. Knock it off.

I passed Mario and his crew and tossed him a wave. They were the only workers here today but for the rescheduled Marcel Voorhees. He was supposed to be here. I practically ran down the final hall, thankful I took time to do cardio often, otherwise I’d have expired ages ago trying to get around this place.

I nearly skidded into the dome room and then I almost ran out.

‘Hi,’ Dorian said.

‘Dorian. I … um …’ I had nothing left to say. So I settled for ‘Hi.’

‘I tried to call.’

‘I know, I –’

He held up a hand and I went silent. ‘You can ignore me if you want, but please don’t pretend that wasn’t what you were doing when you see me.’

‘I’m not ignoring you,’ I said. I really wasn’t. I mean, that wasn’t my intention.

He frowned. ‘Really? What do you call it?’

‘I just … I’ve been –’

‘Busy?’ He sighed.

‘Yeah and –’ I caught myself and looked around.

‘Don’t worry. I have his estimate and his thoughts right here.’ He waved a sheaf of paper at me. ‘I dealt with him and then sent him on his way. After asking if I could borrow his phone to text you,’ he added with a laugh.

‘Oh, I see. Well, thanks.’

‘It is my dome,’ he said. It was the first time I’d ever heard him sound angry. It was directed at me. I knew that, and it hurt my heart to accept that.

‘I know that.’

The anger fled – I watched it bleed out of his expression – and he stepped close to me. He reached to take my face in his hands but stopped himself. Instead, he settled on gripping my wrists and leaning close. ‘What happened, Clover? Why won’t you talk to me? I thought we had fun together. I wanted to see you again. And you … won’t see me. So I just need you to tell me to my face that you don’t want to see me.’ He frowned slightly and squeezed my wrists. ‘I’m stubborn that way. I just need you to tell me to my face.’

‘I …’ His eyes were locked on me and my heart was beating fast. Way too fast, it seemed, for my body to continue to cage it. I swallowed hard, trying to tear my gaze from his lips. ‘I’m sorry. I just thought … it was the strangeness, the storm that made you want me. I was just trying to fade into the background.’

‘Why?’ He tugged me forward. He wanted to kiss me but he didn’t. Watching him restrain himself made my stomach tumble with nervous energy.

‘With some grace,’ I finished quickly.

‘I don’t want you to fade away. And if you want me to –’ he said, pulling me flush to him. His body was warm and hard and I had the fleeting thought that if I moved against him gently, rubbed my body against his, I could elicit a response from him to prove he was still attracted to me. I forced myself to stay still as he went on. ‘Jesus, Clover, if you want me to fade away you need to tell me.’

‘I don’t.’ It came out of me fast and I bit my lip. ‘But I feel like we won’t … we’re not a good fit, you and I. Not in real life.’

He shook his head and cupped the back of mine. His lips were hot and aggressive, his breath a runaway thing as he kissed me. I was stiff in his arms at first, but when his tongue touched mine my sense memory kicked in. I remembered every stroke of his tongue over mine. The feel of his lips on my skin. The feel of his mouth on me, making me come. The sensation of him entering me. It all shotgunned through my memory with a force that made me gasp.