TERRY

I woke up first, feeling lighter than I had in weeks and smiled sleepily when I realized Heather hadn't left me.  Sometime in the night, we'd shifted positions and I was now snuggled up behind her, face nestled against the nape of her neck with my arm tucked around her waist, holding her to me possessively.  Protectively.  I smiled against her neck and snuggled closer, enjoying the way her smaller, slighter body fit against my larger, heavier frame.  She felt soft and feminine, and holding her this way made just made me damn appreciative to be a man. 

Women have always fascinated me.  I love the way they move and feel and smell.  I love the way their minds work, the way they see everything so differently than I do.  I love how their foreign thinking confounds the hell out of me.  I love how they can be so gentle and graceful, but still shoulder so much without faltering, like Heather had last night. 

My smile widened.  I love the way they feel under my hands, how they taste under my mouth, and how they feel under my body or astride my hips.  I love how their bodies change, like mine does, to accommodate a lover.  To be honest, that has always awed me a little.  Not just the physical mechanics, but how it feels, both physically and emotionally, to put myself inside another person's body.  It makes me feel both powerful and humble at the same time. 

I felt all those things and more for the woman in my arms right now.  Holding her like this made me very aware of my physical power, but also aware she had her own strengths and I was just as vulnerable to them.  I buried my face in her hair and breathed in her scent, kissing her neck softly as I brought my hand up to cover her breast.  Between our bodies, my cock throbbed.  It was a sweet torture being so close to her but being unable to make love to her the way I wanted to. 

It didn't help matters that she was so responsive to my touch.  Even in her sleep she was making soft noises in her throat and pushing her body back against me as I caressed her.  Her nipple pebbled against my palm and her hips were slowly beginning to move, asking me for more.  Unable to deny her, I slid my hand from her breast to gently cup her sex.  Her knickers were a wispy bit of nothing.  I could feel her against my fingers, warm and soft and moist. 

With a frustrated sigh, I withdrew my hand reluctantly, rolled away and got up.  There was still the test to worry about and I couldn't lie next to her a minute longer without giving in to the temptation to wake her with my hands and mouth.  To be honest, I particularly enjoy that kind of lovemaking - when one or both of us is still in that twilight place between dreams and wakefulness.  I like that languid, unhurried, almost instinctual descent into pleasure.  It's one hell of a way to wake up, that's for damn certain.  I knew better than to go down that road though.  Not now. 

Not yet.    

I was showered and dressed before she woke up.  I'd already rung down for breakfast when she emerged from my room and headed back to her own.  She didn't say anything, but as she passed the coffee table, she took the dress and the rose with her.  I felt an absurd rush of giddy pleasure at that and fought down the desire to give a whoop of pure exuberance.  It was difficult, given the lightness of my mood this morning. 

But despite my relief at getting things sorted with Heather, the test results were still weighing heavily on my mind.  I rang the clinic while she was in the shower.  Fuck.  No bloody results until after one.  I tried not to think about it but I knew damn well they were probably just sitting on the shelf in some lab somewhere while the technician fucked about. 

I stewed about it for a bit until the arrival of breakfast interrupted my thinking.  I tucked into my usual.  Taking a cue from yesterday morning, I had coffee and scones sent up for Heather.  She appeared a few minutes later, hair damp from her shower, smelling incredible and looking better.  I wondered if she had any idea that satiny green robe of hers was beginning to make a habit of appearing in my fantasies. 

This morning was no exception.  

In reality, I'd had a quick, unsatisfactory wank in the shower.  In fantasy, I'd brought her off right here at the table; robe open but not off, sitting on my lap, head thrown back, begging me to make her come.  She caught me staring and blushed.  She smiled into her coffee cup and then shot me a cheeky grin.

"If you take a picture it lasts longer."

I raised an eyebrow at her.  "G'day to you too, love."  She 'Mmmmed' at me.  I smiled.  "Would you let me?"  She looked up from her scone.  "Take a picture, I mean."  Wide blinking eyes.  Stumped her a bit there.  Ha. 

She thought about it and then shrugged.  "I don't know.  I'm up for trying just about anything, but I've the worst luck.  Knowing me, my gran would run across the pictures during Christmas dinner or something."

I laughed aloud at that.  She had this way about her, easing the tension inside me without even trying.  "Ok, then.  Polaroid.  Pictures burned after." 

She spread some clotted cream on her scone.  "Are we negotiating?"

I put away another bite.  "I dunno.  Are we?"  I paused.  "It'd make an interesting diary...."

She shook her head.  "Oh, no.  I'm not falling for that, mister."  Laughing face turned thoughtful.  "Besides, I think a better question would be not 'would I let you' but 'would you really want to'?"

"Do you really need to ask me that after last night?"

She touched my hand gently.  "No, I don't."  Naughty glint in her eyes now as the serious moment passed.  "It's just fun watching you get all fired up over it."

Our laughter eased into comfortable silence.  I finished off my breakfast and gave her a look.  "You never did answer the original question."

The look on her face said she was very aware she hadn't.  I was beginning to understand her odd silences and non-verbal answers.  She was probably the most open, honest woman I'd ever met and in lieu of giving an answer she felt would reveal too much, she would choose silence over bending the truth.  Another good lesson learned.  Only ask her a direct question if you're sure you're ready to hear the answer. 

Her face grew thoughtful.  "In email you talked of having a visit together in Scotland."  At my nod she continued.  "Bring the camera.  We can open negotiations again then."

A smile touched my lips.  "A picture of Heather in the heather?"  

She laughed at that.  "Don't forget the tartan.  I hear those moors are - and I quote - 'cold enough to freeze an arse off'." 

Words from a mail I sent, teasingly tossed back at me.  She had a good memory.  I finished off the last sip of my tea.  Reckoned it was time to tip my hand.  Just a little.  "I already have the tartan, lassie."  A nickname from mail.  I have a good memory too.   

That stopped her dead on.  "You're joking."

I raised an eyebrow at her.  "Am I?"  I wasn't, of course.  I did have it, back home.  I like to be prepared and I hadn't been joking about wanting to take her to Scotland.  Forty-five bloody pounds a meter, but I had enough of it that neither of us would get cold should there be any arse baring on the moor. 

She'd gone quiet again.  Thinking.  Bit of color high on her cheeks.  Good.  I wanted her to know that for all my teasing, there were some things about which I was absolutely serious.  We shared a lingering goodbye kiss. 

One o'clock couldn't come fast enough.  

As it turned out, I got called into a meeting that lasted well past two.  I didn't even wait until I'd gotten back to the office to ring the clinic.  I was on the cell the second the car door had closed.

Report?  In the fucking clear, mate.  Green across the board and all systems go.  Thank Christ. 

My eyes burned as relief washed over me.  My first instinct was to call Tink.  I was bursting with the news but just because I was in the clear didn't necessarily mean she was.  Calling her was out of question anyway.  She was too fragile right now.  I knew I couldn't keep her wrapped in cotton wool forever, but while I could, I would.  Curry would take care of the rest.   

My next thought was Heather.  Who better to share my news?  She knew the toll this had taken on me better than anyone.  I didn't even go back to the office.  I rang in instead and took care of the rest of the day's pertinent details on the way home in the car.

Surprised Heather.  She was on the laptop at the table, reading intently when I came in.  No doubt keeping up with what was happing back home, catching up on mail, reading diaries and the like.  I felt an odd stab of jealousy as I wondered if she'd been chatting up any of the other Brothers while I was off at work, but there was no frantic closing of windows nor any fingers flying over the keys, only a warm smile aimed in my direction.

She read the news on my face before I'd even said one word.  There was no backslapping, no shouts of exuberance, no congratulatory behavior of any sort.  I went to her and we simply held each other in silence.  I think it may have seemed strange to an outsider, but unless you were in my shoes, you can't know the gravity of that moment.  I will tell you this much, it felt like getting my life back.  Had the test been positive for something they could not cure, I was prepared to leave the Game rather than endanger the people I cared about most. 

We wound up on the couch, lying together in a tangle of arms and legs, whispering to each other of secrets and dreams.  We spoke of hope and relationships; the other side of the coin from the fear and pain I'd poured out to her last night.  Topics I had been reluctant to discuss given the uncertainty of my future and my place in the Game. 

The mood changed as we talked, becoming lighter, happier.  And somewhere along the way we stopped being two people simply taking comfort in each other's presence and became aware of each other sexually.  I felt the change in her as she began responding to me as a woman, not as a friend.  I reckon she probably felt my response to her as well.  Bloody well hard to miss lying together as we were. 

Her cheeks got pink and her voice went all soft.  "Do you want.....?"  She looked toward my bedroom door. 

I lied through my teeth, knowing she'd understand what I meant.  "No."  Touched her cheek and gave her a slow, deep kiss.  "I want to take you out to celebrate."  First.  It hung in the air, not needing to be said by either of us.   

It wasn't what you might be thinking though.  It wasn't about sex.  When I want a woman, I want her, not the physical release her body can give me.  I wasn't desperate for it.  These last weeks with Tink, I hadn't been denied sex, just denied the emotional connection that I needed along with it.  With Heather, it wasn't about needing to end some long-suffering sexual frustration.  It was about consummating an emotional connection that had begun in our mails and solidified in my bed last night and on this couch over the last hour. 

Did all that negate my physical desire for her?  Christ, no.  Did I want to fuck her until she screamed my name?  You bet your sweet arse I did.  It just wasn't the right time.  Seemed a bit coarse.  Right, love.  I'm clean, no worries.  Let's fuck. 

Thank you, no.  

I'm a man, not a boy.  I have nothing to prove to her or myself and I've long since stopped thinking with my dick.  And to be honest, I wanted the chance to play the white knight for a bit.  It'd be nice to be able to be that for someone, you know?  Have a bit of a go at being the person I was before all this crazy shit with Raul started.  Might be nice to see if I could take her out, put a few of those stars back in her eyes... you know, show her a good time before I took her home and really showed her a good time. 

I propped my head up on my hand and looked down at her, teasing my fingers through her hair.  I'm certain she read it in my face, but I wanted to give her the words too.  My eyes flicked from the bedroom door to her face.  "I know you want to, lassie.  You know I want to."  No blush now, only sparkling eyes and a warm smile.  "It'll keep a bit longer.  Let's borrow a page from Curry's book, fill up a page or two with a night of special memories." 

Something unreadable flashed in her eyes, so fleeting I wondered if I'd really seen it at all.  "Special moments, hmm?"

I kissed her softly.  "Our moments."  

"I'd like that."  She sighed happily against me.  "I'd like that very much."

I smiled against her lips.  "Dinner?  Dancing?  Pretty frock?"  I grabbed her bare foot and tickled it, chuckling a bit as she squirmed against me.  "You do own shoes, don't you, love?"  I hadn't seen any in two days.  "Hey!"  Cheeky baggage!  She bit me! 

Still giggling, she affected her best 'Terry' accent.  "Give me two ticks, mate.  I'll knock your bloody socks off."

HEATHER

OK, so two ticks turned out to be nearly an hour, but I was right about the socks.  I have to admit, the dress was a stunner.  Matte black satin, square neck - very Audrey Hepburn, Breakfast at Tiffanys, except this one was backless with just a few slim straps that formed a sort of minimalist ladder down my back.  No bra, tiny black panties, black strappy high-heeled sandals....  I don't get dressed up like this often, but I like to pull out all the stops when I do.

Terry was waiting with flowers when I came out.  I think it was probably half a minute before he even said anything.  He just stared, eyes growing darker by the second, tongue on his lip, drinking me in.  There was a sharp intake of air from him as I turned and he saw the back of my dress. 

His eyes warmed.  "I dunno about you, love, but I think I've just had a moment."  The teasing grin on his face widened and then became serious.  "You look beautiful." 

"Thank you."  I couldn't keep my eyes from him either.  He'd shaved and showered.  Redressed in a smart charcoal suit, pale gray shirt, steel colored tie.  "You don't look so bad yourself."  Teasing little smile.  I reached my hand out to gently stroke his cheek.  No rough stubble.  It excited me... and made me wonder how intense he thought our lovemaking would be if he wanted to keep his skin from abrading mine, at least this first time. 

He preened a bit for me.  It was adorable.  Though his public face is somewhat reserved, he's quite the cutup in private and I enjoyed his sharp wit immensely as we made our way to the elevator.

Dinner was lovely, although I was conscious of the fact that neither of us ate very heavily or imbibed too freely.  I don't think we stopped touching from the moment he put his hand on my back in the elevator on the way down to dinner.  Throughout the meal, our fingers were either entwined or absently caressing each other's hands.  When our hands were busy eating, his legs was pressed to mine or my foot was stroking his calf.  Nothing lewd of course, but I think anyone with half a brain in their head could tell we were besotted. 

We declined both coffee and dessert.  I thought fleetingly of the left over chocolate torte we still had upstairs and wondered how it would taste a la Terry.  Or perhaps it wasn't such a fleeting thought.  He touched my lips and then kissed my fingertips.  "Jesus, love, that look you have?  I'm the envy of every last man in this room."  I flushed.  He smiled smugly and took my hand.  "Dance with me, lassie.  I want to hold you."           

His eyes said he wanted to do a lot more than that.

His palm was warm against mine, solid and confident as he led us through the dance.  I put my head on his shoulder.  He smelled so good, like soap and man and some cologne I didn't recognize but would never be able to smell again without thinking of Terry and this night.  We swayed together slowly, his fingers brushing back and forth over the bare skin at the small of my back. 

It was all so much, his scent, the sensation of him surrounding me, the sound of his smoky voice in my ear, the play of his muscles under my hand.  I felt my body ready itself for his with a wet rush.  The loose, slippery feeling made the dance all the more erotic.  I closed my eyes and gave myself over to the moment.  He held me closer, putting his thigh between mine.  He'd gotten an erection.  I felt it brush my belly before he drew me closer still and fit it into the hollow of my hips.  His thigh brushed tantalizingly against my center each time he took a step until I hovered on the brink of orgasm.

I stiffened in his arms and pulled back slightly, not wanting to come here surrounded by so many people.  "Terry... stop."  The words were breathy and low.  His eyes flicked to mine, widened for a brief moment when he realized why I'd asked him to stop and then they darkened erotically.  The hand that had been caressing my back so gently became an iron band, refusing to let me go.

He put his lips to my ear and whispered huskily, "Shhh... I've got you, lassie.  Let go.  Come for me here."  My eyes fluttered shut and my hand tightened on his as his words penetrated right to my core.  "Come now."

His words capitulated me into flight.  Without direct stimulation, it wasn't the most intense orgasm I'd ever had but his words and the presence of the others around us made it one of the most erotically charged moments I'd ever experienced.  Terry's strong lead never faltered.  There was no outward sign we were doing anything more than dancing, save for my soft intake of air and the tight grip I had on his hand.  And, of course, the soft flush of pleasure I could not hide. 

We danced a few more measures and as he felt my breathing even out against his chest, he lifted his head and our eyes met.  I thought of East and the way he'd looked at Grace when they were dancing.  Terry's look was equally intense, although it had none of the softer notes of satiated pleasure.  He had no sexual knowledge of the woman in his arms.  His gaze was infused with the spark of sexual promise.  He would soon know me the way East had known Grace.

His big body hummed with it and that electric tension was reflected in his eyes, hungry and intense.  His mouth hovered only inches above mine, sharing the same air, the same breath.  I had come for him.  The balance of power had shifted.  We were no longer two people walking a path together.  His words and my act of blind trust had changed that.  Now he would lead and I would follow.  The music played on.  People swayed around us, but we were no longer moving.  We had waited long enough.  It was time.

TERRY

She needed me to take control as much as I needed to take it.  As the moment drew closer, I could feel her grow tense, almost hesitant.  Shy with me now, despite her recent orgasm.  Or perhaps because of it.  It seems I did manage to put a few of those stars back in her eyes after all.  In truth, I was glad.  Though I'm not one to usually enjoy hesitancy in my partners, right now it was exactly what I needed.  It allowed me to sweep her off her feet.  To get to be her Prince Charming for a night and after this shit with Raul, I needed that.  Needed to be someone's hero, and she made it so very easy.

I also needed to make love to her.  Soon.  The need was powerful; an urgency I'd not felt in a long time.  I could temper it with a bit of romance, but I think we both knew from the beginning that our first joining would be this way, a sort of headlong rush into mutual pleasure rather than a slow discovery.  Tender and sweet would come after.  We'd been engaging in mental foreplay for days now and physical foreplay since well before dinner.  I wanted her.  She wanted me.  It was a simple matter to take control and give her the words we both needed.

I stopped dancing and simply held her.  Our awareness of each other spiked because we were no longer moving.  We were stationary in a sea of swirling couples.  I didn't kiss her.  There was more intimacy in the small span of space between our bodies than there could have been in any kiss.  And I was aware we were enough of a spectacle already.  Even without that show of intimacy, it was clear what was happening between us. 

I spoke softly and with much feeling.  "It's time to go home."  Not 'it's time to leave'.  Not 'it's time to go upstairs'.  It's time to go home.  I used that word deliberately, knowing she'd understand my meaning. 

I did not stop touching her for a single moment.  Not while I paid the check.  Not while we waited for the lift.  And especially not in the lift itself.  We didn't go at it the second the doors were closed, although that was mostly due to the fact I was concerned that once we started, I wouldn't be able to stop.  I held her to me instead, her body pressed close to mine, her arms around me tight.  Her face was buried against my throat and my arm was around her protectively.

Possessively.  

It felt almost like holding a little child, though not in a physical sense.  The soft breasts pressed to my side proclaimed her very much a woman.  It was more in an emotional sense.  She had released herself into my care, submitted to my authority and I felt a responsibility for her now that I hadn't felt before I took her into my arms on the dance floor.  I was aware that sex would eventually bring that power back into balance, but for now, I was enjoying having the lion's share of it. 

She smiled shyly at me while I hung the 'do not disturb' sign on our door and locked it soundly behind us.  No more games.  No more waiting.  I parted from her to turn on some music, stripping off my jacket and tie and opening the buttons at my throat as I returned to her. 

Listen as the wind blows from across the great divide 
voices trapped in yearning, memories trapped in time 
the night is my companion, and solitude my guide 
would I spend forever here and not be satisfied? 

She bent to remove her shoes.  My voice stopped her.  "Leave them on a little longer, love."  They were sexy as hell.  Black strappy things that showed off her arch.  She had a dancer's legs, long and toned.  A fleeting memory of her telling me she was a gymnast surfaced and my libido ratcheted up a few notches.  I tried to slow it down.  "Dance with me."           

This was not the reserved dancing of earlier.  She moved gracefully into my embrace, both arms sliding around my neck as I settled my hands on her hips and then let them slide lower.  Her eyes fluttered shut as I dug my fingers into her soft flesh and pulled her hips tight to mine.  "Feel me."  My cock throbbed between us.  "Feel what you do to me." 

And I would be the one 
to hold you down 
kiss you so hard 
I'll take your breath away

She was moving with me sensuously, flawlessly following the rhythm I'd chosen for us.  Rubbing herself against me softly.  I kissed her then, long and hard and deep.  A kiss of joining.  I swallowed her whimper as I caught her wrist and brought her hand to my cock, bucking my hips lightly against her hand as she stroked me slowly with her palm.  I smiled against her lips.  "You'll come in my arms again soon and this time, I'll be inside you when it happens."  She moaned and swayed against me.  I stepped away from her and met her eyes.  "Come to my bed, lassie.  I want to love you."        

You speak to me in riddles 
and you speak to me in rhymes 
my body aches to breathe your breath 
your words keep me alive

I stopped long enough to grab the flowers I'd given her before dinner.  I was too aroused for leisurely lovemaking this first time around, but I could still make it romantic.  I put the vase on my nightstand and we undressed each other in the moonlight.  She was quiet but not passive.  Her hands stroked and touched me as she bared my body, just as I had done to hers. 

I stopped her when she moved to lie down and dragged my mouth away from her breast.  "Wait."  I tore the petals from two of the white roses in the vase and threw them on the dark coverlet.  "Now, love."  I followed her down, bracing my hands on either side of her head and kissed her.  Hard.  My head was swimming with the scents of warm, aroused woman and crushed rose petals.  I could feel them fluttering around us on the bed as we moved.  Soft brushes against my hands and a tickle near my left knee as I knelt over her.

I lifted my weight from her and her small sound of distress at the loss of my body fired my blood even hotter.  I reached for the roses again, tearing away more petals and let them fall over her.  They stuck to her sweaty skin and shone luminously against the dark fall of her hair as she writhed under me in the moonlight. 

She was breathing heavily, almost panting as she reached her arms out to me.  "Terry, please..."

I moved over her, testing her readiness with my fingers.  "I'm here.  I'm right here."  I licked her wetness from my fingers, tasting her.  Tasting roses.  Her hands clutched at my back, pulling me closer.  I ran my thumb over the tip of my cock, gathering the wetness there and brushed it over her lips.  She was wet enough.  We wouldn't need my lubrication and I wanted her to taste me as I'd tasted her. 

She licked my thumb and I groaned as I stole back my hand to prime myself for entry.  I couldn't wait any longer.  I guided her legs up and positioned myself, eyes flicking to hers for permission to press inside.

She nodded, still stroking my back and arms and spoke only one word.  "Deep."  

I nodded back, as caught up in the headlong rush as she and lifted her legs to my shoulders.  My first thrust made us both groan.  I knew I wouldn't last long.  She wouldn't either.  I could already feel her beginning to flutter around me as I entwined our fingers and started a hard, driving rhythm, pushing us both higher.  The musky scent of sex got stronger as did the scent of roses as we crushed and bruised the petals between our bodies and under her back.

"Terry......"

My name, a benediction from her lips as she shuddered and splintered apart under me.  I stopped thrusting and let her hold me deep inside while her body convulsed around my cock, her belly and thighs quivering with the intensity of her climax.  I couldn't remain still long.  The rhythmic contractions were too intense.  Sweaty slick, our bodies moved together fluidly as I resumed thrusting. 

Three more strokes and I felt her fingers knot at my back as she came again.  Her eyes squeezed shut and over my shoulders her toes curled.  I think it surprised her as much as it did me.  Her whole body shook but this time I was too far inside my own pleasure to stop for her.  Grunting and sweating, I sought my own release even as hers broke around me.  I buried my face in her neck as it washed over me, an intense feeling that centered between my legs and spiked in long sustained pulses that left me shaky and panting.

Beneath me, Heather was trembling.  Her eyes were wet.  Time slowed.  Our hearts slowed.  I couldn't keep my hips still.  I would be soft soon and it felt too good to remain passive.  I rocked us gently now, sliding in my own come.  We were still holding hands, fingers laced tight.  Palm to palm and heart to heart, we forged something special in that moment of unexpected intimacy.  My eyes burned.  Tears leaked from the corners of her lashes. 

I gave her the softest kiss as I let her legs down.  I slipped from her body and a rush of wetness followed.  I rolled to my side, taking her with me as our breathing slowly changed from a single rhythm to two distinct and separate rhythms.  I gathered a handful of the petals from the bed and let them fall over her like scented snow.  She smiled as they tickled her sensitive flesh.  I smiled at her smile. 

Our eyes met and we giggled.  We had petals stuck everywhere.  The room reeked of sex and roses.  The wet glisten of my semen between her thighs appeased some primal part of my nature.  I felt like howling at the moon.  I settled for pulling her close and caressing her skin lightly with my fingertips, knowing we would doze soon and when we next stirred, we would make love again. 

HEATHER

We spent the next morning in bed, talking mostly.  My body ached pleasantly from Terry's lovemaking.  He woke me twice more in the night and once just as the first gray light of dawn was beginning to filter through the window.  I was supposed to be leaving in a few hours and he was supposed to be at work, but we couldn't get enough of each other.  He called into work and cleared his schedule for the next two days and then he called the airline and canceled my flight after he'd convinced me to stay with him a little longer.  Lachlan was coming to fly him back to New York in a couple of days so he proposed I just stay on and fly back with him then.

It really wasn't that difficult a decision to make.  We were in the first blush of an intense romance.  Neither of us was ready to let go just yet.  It was too new, too consuming to bear parting so soon.  We ordered up and ate breakfast in bed amid dozens of bruised rose petals.  We giggled and flirted and wrestled playfully.  That time we broke the teapot.  Later, we broke a vase in the bathroom when our loveplay spilled out of the shower to the vanity and then to the floor when it really got wild. 

We emerged from the suite around noon, pink cheeked and giddy.  Terry wanted food.  Red meat.  Potatoes.  Beer.  I was mortified at the idea of the cleaning ladies discovering our rose strewn bower and the trail of broken glassware, but Terry only laughed and pulled me towards the elevator with a cheeky grin.  He told me he wanted the room put to rights so he could muck it up with me again.  I stuck my tongue out at him and told him he still smelled of roses.  He shrugged, pinned me to the wall of the lift and kissed me passionately until we reached the lobby. 

After a leisurely lunch, we took a long walk, sightseeing, window shopping, stopping to kiss and cuddle whenever the mood struck.  He kept wanting to buy me things.  I kept refusing.  I didn't need a gift from him to feel special.  I told him so.  He gave me a look that quite clearly said I might have won the battle but I hadn't won the war.  We walked on, in and out of dozens of little shops.  He purchased a watch for himself and then in another shop, a box truffles he told me with a cheeky wink were for later. 

He bought an extra one, popped it into his mouth and proceeded to kiss me senseless right there in the chocolatier.  The shopkeeper said something in a language I didn't understand but Terry lifted his head, grinned widely and said, "Thanks, mate.  I intend to."

My head was still spinning from that amaretto flavored kiss when he pulled me into a very high end jewelry store.  We had a bit of fun playing the 'if' game.  As in, if I was to buy you something, what would you pick?  We'd been playing it since almost the first shop we wandered into.  And not just for ourselves.  We'd mentally picked out dozens of things for all the Brothers and Sisters. 

He stopped in front of a case of exquisite pearl jewelry, everything from simple pearl earrings to elaborate multi-stranded, diamond encrusted pearl chokers. 

"Which one?" he murmured against my neck, kissing me lightly.  

"For who?"

"For you this time, lassie."

I took my time deciding, partly because there were so many choices and partly because the longer it took, the more time I got to spend with Terry's arms wrapped around me.  I gave him a squeeze.  "Which would you pick?"

His eyes left my neck to wander the case.  "That one."  He pointed to a choker with three strands of dark beige pearls.  They were the color of coffee with cream and had a tinge of rose as well.  Very unusual.  He whispered in my ear.  "Color of your skin when you blush for me."  He nuzzled my neck.  "Now you pick."

"Those."  I pointed to a single strand of pearls on the bottom shelf of the case.  Smaller in size than the pearls in the choker he favored, but of the same unusual color. 

He smiled.  "Let me buy them for you, love."  I started to protest but he was whispering again.  "I want to give you those."  I felt him start to grow hard against my hip.  "And I want to give you a pearl necklace of my own." 

"You don't have to buy me anything to do that."  The words were out before I could call them back.  Terry inhaled sharply and I felt my cheeks heat.  I turned and hid my face in his neck.  I'd never done that with any of the Brothers.  In truth, I'd never even considered it.   

His voice was whisper soft.  "Let me give you both then."  I nodded, unable to find my voice.  Terry straightened, but left his arm around me.  One look from him and the jeweler, who had been discretely watching from a distance, came over to us.

"Can I help you, sir?"

"We'll take those."  Terry pointed to the pearls.  

The jeweler removed the pearls from the case and set them on the counter for Terry to inspect.  He didn't look twice and he didn't ask the price.  The man nodded.  "Very fine choice, sir.  Will the lady be wearing them home?"

Terry's smile widened and he rubbed the rough pad of his thumb over the nape of my neck.  "No, she will not."        

TERRY

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur.  More shops, more stolen kisses, a lengthy dinner at a little mom-and-pop Thai place.  Inside their velvet lined case, the pearls were burning a hole in my pocket.  I was dying to see them on her.  I could think of little else.  Had a bit of a wrench thrown into my plans when we got back to the hotel though.  We were just coming in the door when Heather whirled around.

"What time is it?"  I checked my watch and answered her.  She laughed lightly.  "No, in the US.  It's Friday night there, right?" 

Fuck.  The chat.  "Correct, yes.  You've twenty minutes or so.  Enough time to log on and check the boards first, I reckon."  I tried not to let my disappointment show.  Must have done too good a job because her eyes glowed happily.   

"Do you mind me chatting for a while?"  

The fact that she cared enough to ask me went a long way toward soothing my ruffled feathers.  Besides, there was no way to tell her 'yes' without sounding like a complete bastard, even if I did want to have her all to myself.  The chat wasn't just time apart; it was time apart where other men would be flirting with her.  I felt an absolutely insane, irrational spurt of jealousy.  I grit my teeth and swallowed it down.  "No worries, love.  You go on and chat.  I've a bit of work to catch up on."

Three fucking hours.  I'd already finished my work and now I was sitting out on the balcony in the dark, brooding.  I wanted to rip her bloody laptop from the wall.  I settled for logging in and joining the chat myself.  I wasn't in the mood for games and I think that fact became readily apparent to everyone.  I wasn't there to have fun.  I was there to retrieve my cargo so I could fuck her senseless.  This was my visit.  My time.  We had precious little of it and I was done sharing her.     

HEATHER

I found Terry sitting on the balcony, smoking.  His laptop was on the table, closed up with a few files lying beside it.  The slim case containing the pearl necklace was next to it, deliberately left open.  They glowed softly in the moonlight, iridescent and luminous against the backdrop of black velvet.  The only other illumination came from the twinkling lights of the city.  Even our suite was dark.  It made the space more intimate but there was a hint of malevolence as well.  The night was dark but Terry's mood was darker.        

The tip of his cigarette glowed red.  He blew a stream of smoke skyward.  "Nice you could join me."  Another glow of red.  More smoke.  "Our time's so limited.  I was wondering how much more of it you planned on wasting."

I smiled at the obvious irritation in his voice but he wasn't truly mad or he'd have been silent and withdrawn.  He'd fetched me from the chat for a reason and I was fairly certain I knew what it was.  Seeing the pearls lying there against the velvet was making my knees weak.  He didn't mention them.  Neither did I.  And yet their presence seemed to electrify us.  I decided to wind him up a little more, wondering how far he'd go.  "You think you're the best fun a girl can have on a Friday night, Thorne?"

"I don't think I am."  He paused.  "I know I am."  He stood and flicked the butt of his cigarette over the side of the rail.  I was suddenly struck by our differences, how much bigger and stronger he was.  How much more powerful.  He had an imposing presence and he was using it to his advantage now.  I was instantly, shockingly wet.  He'd never been this way with me but we were both ripe for it, ready for something edgier. 

Raunchier.  

He crowded me with his body, driving me towards the edge of the balcony.  His voice growling low in my ear.  "Hands on the rail."  He still hadn't touched me but I felt the heat of his body so close behind mine.  "Hands on the fucking rail, love.  Now."  His arms came up and his big hands gripped the rail on the outside of mine.  Still, not a single touch.  My knuckles were white on the railing, my breathing already growing shallow with anticipation. 

He chuckled darkly and then looked out at the lights of the city, still never taking his lips from my ear.  "Have you ever made love outside?  With people nearby?"  I shook my head 'no'.  There was nobody directly above us but there was a couple having a late dinner on the balcony directly below ours.  He leaned into me then, a full body press that had me gasping.  "You make a noise, they'll hear."  Sex voice, low and smoky in my ear.  "You take your hands off that rail, I walk away."  He licked my neck and stuck his tongue in my ear.  "Those are the terms.  Nod once if you find them acceptable." 

I nodded.  "Good girl."  My legs shook.  He'd barely begun and I was already aching for him.  I'd left my skirt on but taken my panties off before I'd come out here to him.  I felt a trickle of wetness run down my thigh and bit my lip to keep from begging him to touch me.  His hands left the rail.  One fisted in my hair, the other stroked the length of my neck, forcing my head up.  That whiskey voice whispered in my ear.  "See that pool down there?"

I did.  The hotel pool.  It was one of those built to resemble a lagoon, irregularly shaped, plants all around, waterfalls, underwater lights than gave the whole thing a deep green glow.  Like Terry's eyes, only deeper.  Stormier.  He ground himself against my bottom and reached under me to fondle my breasts, rolling my nipples between his fingertips.  His mouth never left my ear.  He poured out his fantasy to me, sparing nothing.  Fucking me there in the pool, from behind like an animal.  Cock in one hole, fingers in the other, not caring who saw.  Wanting me to beg him.  Wanting other men to see us so they would know I was taken.  That I was his.

A man's fantasy uncensored.  Graphic.  Crude.  It was the most erotic thing I'd ever heard.  My lover sharing something private with me, something more intimate than sex.  Trusting me enough to share something vulnerable with me, even as his physical presence dominated me.  He talked me to orgasm while exploring me with his hands.  His body over mine, my skirt pushed up over my hips, his fingers buried so deep in me from behind, like an echo of his fantasy.

His breath was hot against my neck.  "Jesus, yesss.....that's it.  Fuck yourself back at me.  Show me how much you want me.  Come on my fingers.  Let me feel you wanting me."  Forceful words.  Needy words.  "Come for me."      

My orgasm was shockingly intense.  I bit my arm to keep from screaming.  Only the steel of his arm around my waist kept me from losing my feet.  Blood pounded in my ears.  Sweat prickled under my arms and at the small of my back.  My body contracted wetly, greedily gripping at his fingers.  My hips pushed back at him in a lewd, wanton display of female need.  Letting my mask slip a little, sharing a vulnerability with him as he had shared his with me. 

Afterward, he held me tight, but only until he was certain my legs were steady enough to hold me.  It was a short span of time but intensely intimate.  His forehead was resting between my shoulder blades, one arm was still wrapped tightly around my middle.  His fingers were still deep inside me and we were both breathing hard.

He was as tender in the wake of our shared vulnerabilities had he had been commanding before them.  Even though neither of us expected to share so much so fast, I got the sense he wanted to use what had just passed between us as a steppingstone to even greater intimacy.  It was as frightening as it was exciting, and for all the tenderness he was showing me now, I knew other emotions would soon join it.  He was riding the edge of something wild tonight.  I could feel it rising in him.

His fingers slipped from me soundlessly.  I felt him shift, and from behind me, I heard the soft, wet sounds of his mouth as he brought his fingers to his lips and sucked at them greedily.  He made a masculine noise of appreciation deep in his throat and a moment later he released me, peeling my fingers from the rail as he helped me to stand.  Turning me around, he cupped my face in his big hands and kissed me; first so tenderly it brought tears to my eyes and then more ardently, more forcefully, until I was leaning against the rail and clutching at him for support. 

He stepped back.  "Strip for me.  Here.  Now."  He saw the flash of hesitancy in my eyes.  Someone might see.  "Don't think.  Just do it."

Sex voice.  Low and husky and very much in command.  

He moved to the table and fingered the pearls, running the strand through his fingers.  "I want to see you in these and nothing else."

He watched, tongue on his lip, while I stepped from the rail, drew my shirt up and off and then stepped out of my skirt.  I stood before him then, naked.  Scared.  Excited beyond anything I could possibly imagine.  Wrapping the string of pearls around the two fingers he'd had inside me, he crooked them at me.

"Come here."  

I came.  His eyes were wild and his color was high.  There was a tension in him, a tightness around his mouth and in the rigidity of his stance.  Reaching out, he stroked my throat with his pearl-wrapped fingers, trailing them down over my breast to my nipple.  They were smooth and warm against my skin, already carrying the heat of his body.  He pulled his hand away.  "Undress me, lassie."   

My hands shook as I tugged his shirt from his pants and pulled it off over his head.  I dropped it at my feet and trailed my fingers down his thickly muscled arms.  I bent to lave his flat dark nipple with my tongue while I worked on his belt.  Tiny flickers, a scrape of my teeth.  He hissed as I lowered his zipper and pushed his jeans down.  His erection bobbed as he stepped out of his pants but he didn't kick them away. 

I was already starting to kneel before I felt his hand on my shoulder exerting a gentle downward pressure.  His other hand, the one with the pearls still twined around his fingers, was wrapped around the base of his cock, offering it to me.  "Take me in your mouth, love.  Suck me."

On my knees, I buried my face in his coarse curls and breathed him in, unable to get enough of his intoxicating scent.  I nuzzled him, little kisses both on his cock and on the long blunt fingers holding it.  I wrapped my arms around him, resting my hands just below the small of his back and held his eyes while I took just the tip in my mouth and swirled my tongue over it.  He tasted the way the ocean smelled.  I thought of the pearls, thought of his pearls....and made a decision. 

This wasn't something I wanted him to do to me.  This is something I wanted him to do with me.  Shared eroticism.  I moved my hand to touch the one he had wrapped around the base of his cock.  Stroking his fingers.  Stroking the pearls.  I pulled back, held his eyes a long time and whispered just one word to him.  "More."

The spark of understanding passed between us and whatever reservation he might have had left melted away.  His hand left his cock to stroke my lips with the pearls before he guided my mouth back to his tip and slipped himself inside.  In a husky whisper, he told me exactly how he wanted me to suck him while he stimulated himself with his hand.  Pearls on his cock.  Pearls touching my lips, stretched wide around his girth. 

He tickled my skin with the necklace, dragging it over my sensitive flesh while I fellated him.  His breathing grew more harsh, more ragged, until he finally pulled away, gasping.  His chest heaved as he jerked me to my feet and shoved me toward the railing.  I felt the tickle of the pearls on my back and then his warm palm pressed flat, positioning me exactly how he wanted.  Bending over me now, lips to my ear.  "Grab the rail.  Don't let go."

I felt his breath first, hot and moist on my back and then his mouth on me, trailing wet kisses down my spine.  His hands were everywhere, stroking my sides, caressing my breasts, teasing between my legs.  The pearls followed in their wake, warm and smooth and slick against my sweaty skin.  He straightened behind me, moving up to kiss my neck, molding his body to mine.  I gasped as I felt him slide the pearls back and forth between my legs until they shown in the moonlight with a different luster, glistening wetly. 

They left a cool, wet trail over my belly as he slid them up and then back down, penetrating me with a pearl-wrapped finger before he pushed the entire length inside me and covered my sex with his palm, holding them in while he rocked against my buttocks.  As he felt me start to shake, he drew away from me and took the pearls with him, pulling me away from the rail and pushing my back up against the wall that divided our balcony from the one next door. 

He kissed me hard and lifted me up, wrapping my legs around his waist.  The pearls left a wet trail across my buttocks as he moved me into position, bent his knees and entered me in one long, smooth stroke.  I climaxed before he was all the way hilted and he swallowed my cry of pleasure, letting me ride it out, trapped between his body and the unforgiving wall, before he started thrusting. 

"This way...." he panted against my lips.  "Wanted you this way."  The tendons in his neck were standing out as he worked for his pleasure and mine.  "Wanted to see -" his breath hitched. "See your face....so beautiful....let me love you..."  He pounded harder.  "Jesus, come on... come for me, lassie."  I clutched him harder, his skin was sweaty and slick, the hair at his nape was wet with it.  "I want to feel you come on my cock."

I did, stifling my cry against his shoulder as the world spun away and there was only him and me and pleasure so intense I though I was dying.  His head dropped to my shoulder and his muscles bunched and flexed as he chased after his own release, grunting with each wild thrust.  "These pearls....  my pearls.  Take them... take me... Jesus..."  He was shaking, straining hard, murmuring love words, sex words that made no real sense.  I pushed at his chest harder and harder until his eyes opened, glassy with pleasure when they met mine.  Gritting his teeth.  "You don't have to-"

"Let me."  I pushed harder.  "Let me."

"God... do it.  Do it!"  He pulled out and I slid down the wall, coming to kneel before him.  His forearm rested on the wall above me, pearls clenched tight in his fist as his other hand stroked his cock, wet with me, wet with himself.  His hand bumped my chin; I felt the slick tip of his erection touch the hollow of my throat.  My fingers dug into his thighs and he groaned as he came in long wet pulses, eyes open but unfocused as he gave himself over to the moment.  

Time seemed to slow.  I was blushing as he helped me to my feet, embarrassed by my behavior, worried what he might think of me, worried my actions had revealed far too much about my true feelings for him.  I felt my eyes grow watery.

His hands were trembling when he reached for my face, cupping my cheeks and lifting my chin to meet his gaze.  I searched his eyes, looking for signs of recrimination and found only wonderment and tenderness.  He kissed me then, so soft and gentle I thought my heart would break with it.  He lifted his head and met my eyes.  I saw understanding there.  He knew it wasn't something I'd done lightly and there was a masculine fire there too, pride I'd allowed him to take me a place I'd never been, respect for the strength it took for me to be so free with him.

I shivered as I felt his semen trickle between my breasts.  Without taking his eyes from mine, he tucked the necklace into my palm, raised his hands to my chest and slowly rubbed the pearly fluid into my skin instead of wiping it away.   The gesture was tender and erotic and incredibly possessive, branding me his, if only for a night. 

The pungent scent of his semen, earthy and strong, rose from my skin and his hands as he took the necklace from my fingers and whispered, "Turn around, love."

I turned in his embrace and he drew the necklace into place, fastening it carefully before pressing the most exquisitely tender kiss to the nape of my neck.  He turned me to face him.  My lover's eyes never left mine.  He stroked my neck with a fingertip.  "Beautiful, lassie, just as I knew it would be."  He did not elaborate.  I did not need him to. 

Without another word, he entwined his fingers with mine and drew me back inside.