17. Renée
17
RENéE
I didn’t want the morning to come. The day before had been pure magic. Hell, the entire weekend had been amazing. C.T. was the sweetest, most passionate man I’d ever met. I could spend the rest of my life traveling the world and never find another man like him.
We spent the night having slow, incredible sex. We made love in every way possible. By the end, I clung to him, afraid he’d disappear when I fell asleep.
Kisses rained down on the side of my face and down my neck. I moved to give him better access. He inched his hand forward and cupped my breast.
I had never thought of my breasts as sexy until him. He didn’t just make love to them, he worshipped them. Made me feel so sexy and feminine in everything he did. He slid his hand down and then he was between my legs, rubbing my clit while I moaned and rocked my hips against him.
“One more time before I leave.”
I squeezed my eyes tightly to block out the words. With my back to him, he couldn’t see my reaction, and I wouldn’t have let him know it for the world.
He moved my leg on top of his thigh then slid into me. He felt so good there, as if that’s where he was always meant to be. That we had been destined by circumstances to come together. He trailed his hands down my sides to thread his fingers through mine as we moved, slowly, stretching out the moment.
His breath felt warm on my ear as he spoke words of praise and encouragement. Then I was there falling off the world and feeling him follow me over edge.
When we came back down, I turned my face to him and he kissed me, sweet and lingering. Then he was up and headed to the shower.
I lay there in the bed, not moving, but mourning what had been the best weekend of my life and the fact I was about to let it walk away.
Not once had he mentioned seeing each other after today. Not even remotely. He’d taken the contract with the understanding that there would be no post contact. The fact he stuck to that so much—that I had to be the one to start the conversations—well, it made me admire him more. He didn’t angle for more than was allowed.
No matter that he’d wanted an introduction.
He hadn’t supplied me with a name to give any of my contacts for an introduction.
If he had, would that have felt like payment for the sex?
Jesus that was creepy. I, in no way, wanted him to feel as if I’d paid for sex. Which I guess if things were broken down, it’s exactly what I’d done. The man had prostituted himself out for me and got nothing in exchange.
I hated that for him.
When he came out of the bathroom, I was up and had on one of the robes. I had called for room service, but it hadn’t yet arrived.
He picked up his bag and stuffed his clothes into it.
“Do you want to wait for breakfast? I sent for something.”
He shook his head. I couldn’t tell if his stoney expression was due to something I’d done or the fact he had to leave. “I don’t have time. I’m going to be cutting it close to the airport as it is.”
I looked at the time. Oh, hell. We’d taken longer in bed than I thought.
“I’m sorry.”
He lifted those sea blue eyes to me and shook his head. “Don’t be. I don’t want our last words to be an apology.”
I nodded because my throat had closed with emotion. I didn’t want him to go. I wanted him to stay. We had so much more to talk about, to explore, to learn.
He zipped his bag with a jerk then put it on like a backpack. Without a word we stepped chest to chest. He kissed me one last time, then cradled my head in his neck.
“Goodbye, Renée,” he whispered into my ear.
Shock backed me up as he walked away without another word.
My heart beat up into my throat and I couldn’t do anything but blink as I heard his steps as he went down the stairs.
By the time I managed to pull myself together and ran to the railing, he was already across the sand and walking along the dock that led to the boat taxi that would take him away from me and back to the mainland.
Holy…he had recognized me.
He knew who I was without me having said anything. How had he managed to make it through the entire weekend without using my name, even accidentally? Why hadn’t he let me know until the very end that he knew me?
I wasn’t angry. I was shocked and sad. If he’d come clean about that we could have dropped the pretense. The weekend could have been spent getting to know each other in more ways than sexual and through less than optimal childhoods.
I sat down on the bed and put my head in my hands. Tears leaked out of my eyes. Now, he was gone, and I had no idea where or how to find him.
Running after him had been out of the question. I hadn’t been able to move. My mind swirled as I wondered if I needed to go into damage control mode or pretend as if I’d been anywhere but in Bali this weekend.
Really the situation came down to if I trusted C.T. or not. Did I?
In my panic, I wasn’t thinking straight. I saw ruination wherever I looked.
Surely, if he’d meant to make a scene or make my identity an issue, he would have said something sooner. Not as he left me to my own devices.
I grabbed my phone from the bedside table where it had been for the duration of the weekend. I hadn’t picked it up once to look at messages. As a matter of fact, I’d turned it off and set my email and messages to say that I was out of town and would be in touch when I returned.
Message after message came up when I turned it on. None of them earth shattering. Most of them from people who knew I was away and had no reason to contact me as if the sky was falling.
Natalia had sent one only to wish me good luck and much enjoyment. Zayre had sent a meme of a fruit basket.
If they only knew how much I enjoyed the weekend.
Every last moment of it.
A lone curl of desire spread through my body as I remembered C.T. moving inside me. Grunts and moans of satisfaction as he came. He’d been good about wearing a condom each time we had sex. I had nothing to reproach him about on any level.
I checked my social sites, the web under my name. Nothing popped up of a controversial nature. Same stuff as usual.
Still, I put my assistant on it to find anything she could online about me that was negative.
It never hurt to be sure.
Not when an empire was at stake.