Taxi To Paris Part 7

"For me, too." Now she smiled again. Then she answered my question. "I just think you shouldn't renounce anything you've never tried before. If you hadn't liked it, at least you'd know why." She was the pragmatic one, through and through.

"Will you bring me my coffee in bed, or do I have to try my wobbly legs?" I joked, in order to think about something other than making love to her.

She went for it. "Was it so bad?" she joked back.

"Much worse," I philosophized, with the most deadly serious face I could manage. "I've redefined the word *o.r.g.a.s.m'. They're going to have to rewrite the dictionary."

She laughed again, pleased, making me happy again for the moment. "Well, if that's how it is, I'll have to bring it to you." She stood up and went out in her usual graceful way.

I had to face the gloomy thought that this was our last day together. It occurred to me that I had no idea what she did on the weekend. Perhaps she'd have time then. But that really wasn't enough. I wanted her forever.

She came back in with the coffee. "Do you have the weekends free?" I asked casually.

She laughed unconcernedly. "Like a regular worker, you mean?"

I had to laugh at the picture myself. "Yeah, sort of."

She answered as though I'd asked her about a dentist's appointment. "Not generally," she said. "But most of the time, I'm not busy the whole day. Just in exceptional cases."

These "exceptional cases" didn't please me a bit, but what could I do? I tried to think about the positive aspects of the situation. "So maybe we'd have the weekend to ourselves sometimes?" It was the first time we'd ever discussed the future. I noticed some hesitation. She didn't want to set anything in stone.

"Sure," she said, unconvincingly. "Sometimes."

"Good," I said. I wasn't really thinking that, but perhaps I'd be able to convince her over time to keep the weekends free.

Over time? What was it that I had in mind? A steady relations.h.i.+p with a -? Even in my thoughts, I couldn't say the word. Could this ever turn out well? But what relations.h.i.+p ever comes with a guarantee? And for that matter - what had she said before? Don't knock it if you haven't tried it.

I looked at her and adored her. How should I continue from here? Any attempt to get closer to her would be met with avoidance or with the professional routine.

"Bring your coffee in here," I said, as harmlessly as possible. "I hate to drink mine alone."

She looked at me warily, but I must not have seemed too dangerous. Perhaps she a.s.sumed that I was still too weak. She guessed wrong about that!

She got her cup and sat next to me on the bed. I slid to one side to make room for her. "Come here," I said, "I want to lean against you, you big strong woman."

Now she was torn. On one hand, I'd expressed a wish. One the other hand, she knew that if she did what I asked, she'd be within my reach. As she most often did, she fulfilled the wish. She sat closer to me.

That still didn't solve the whole problem. If I'd started to behave tenderly toward her, she would've gotten out immediately - either out of bed or out of her private persona. And I wanted her so. My fingers strained to touch her. Instead, I held my coffee cup with both hands, trying not to make her suspicious. "May I?" I asked before leaning against her. That always calmed her.

I finished my coffee slowly. Since she was sitting next to me, I had to reach across her to put the empty cup on the nightstand. Nothing could be more innocent! On my way back, I let my hand fall onto her thigh - completely coincidentally, of course. I stretched myself out a little closer and laid my head on her breast. She was wearing one of my long men's s.h.i.+rts. I would have liked most to undress her, but that would've been absolutely deadly. She would've turned to ice. I yawned. "Are you tired, too?"

That finally convinced her that I didn't want anything from her. My hand moved on her thigh as if I were seeking a comfortable position in which to fall asleep. In doing so, I brushed up against one of her erogenous zones - again, as if by coincidence. She became restless. I rearranged my head a bit on her breast. I accidentally brushed against her nipple. Her unrest grew. My hand still brushed sleepily against her thigh. I tried to breathe deeply, as though I were falling asleep.

She squirmed back and forth on the bed. Then she put down her coffee cup and laid an arm over me. Slowly, her hand began to stroke my breast. I rejoiced internally. At the same time, I gritted my teeth to avoid reacting to her touch too quickly.

After a little while, I acted like I'd been woken up. "What are you doing?" I asked sluggishly.

That made her smile. "Don't you like it?" Now I had her!

I turned to face her more, and slid one hand absently under her s.h.i.+rt. "Yes," I murmured, still a bit sleepily. "Keep going."

I wanted to kiss her so badly, but I had to wait for her to come to me. It took awhile, but then she laid down next to me and turned me onto my back. She kissed me. I noticed that she was already pretty turned on. As soon as I felt her mouth against mine, I lifted myself slowly and turned over with her, until she lay beneath me. Now I'd pa.s.sed the critical point: I could continue. I loved her so much - we'd have to work on this problem!

I kissed her long and deep. She moaned in my mouth. I'd learned a few tricks from her! With both hands, I slowly pushed her s.h.i.+rt up. When I could see her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, I wondered anew at her beauty. I stroked her silky skin over and over. Her skin was simply incredible. I followed my fingers with my lips.

"Let me take this off." Her voice sounded forced.

I didn't want to be distracted. "It's OK."

"Please." Her voice became more urgent. "Let me take it off."

Now I knew what was going on. She was reminded of how most women slept with her while she still had all her clothes on. A new point I'd have to watch out for in the future. I had to let her do it herself, so I sat back on my heels and said, "OK, go ahead."

She pulled the s.h.i.+rt off over her head and lay back down. Now I'd have to start closer to the beginning, because she'd been thinking about her job. Nothing I did could seem even a little bit like a client. I leaned back into her arms. My hand caressed her stomach gently, tracing little patterns over her skin. "Are you all right?"

She didn't answer right away. That in itself was an indication that I hadn't guessed wrong about the situation. Then she said, "It's been a long time since I've felt as good with someone else as I do with you."

This was the first time she'd ever told me anything like that. I'd only occasionally believed that I detected it. The fact that she said it out loud was a huge boost to my confidence. "That makes me very happy," I said - genuinely pleased. I propped myself up on one elbow and looked down at her. Tenderness overwhelmed me once more. "I hope that it always stays that way." I looked at her earnestly and lovingly. She just looked back up at me and said nothing.

I moved my hand slowly back in the direction of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. I held her gaze tightly. "You are so beautiful," I said. "I still can't quite believe it. Every time I see you, it feels like a gift."

With this kind of compliment, ones that only dealt with her appearance, she was fine. She smiled, relaxed. "But I didn't choose that," she said simply.

I touched her breast and began to caress it. Her nipple hardened immediately, stretching the skin. I wanted her dreadfully, but I would still need to take my time. I smiled at her, leaned down, and kissed her gently, without expectation. I played my tongue across her lips, then traced it slowly down to her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. I took a nipple between my lips and teased it. Her nipples weren't as sensitive as mine, but after a short time she began to react with restless motion and light moaning. I laid my body onto hers and kissed her again, this time with increasing desire. She returned my kisses in kind.

My hand glided down between her thighs and spread them. She gasped when I brushed across the center. I couldn't wait much longer. I slid down over her body and opened her legs completely. She tossed back and forth across the bed impatiently. I found her entrance with my tongue. Her hips rose to meet me. I pushed inside. She cried out. "Darling!" That word was one she saved for moments of extreme pa.s.sion - otherwise, I never heard it from her.

I circled my tongue around inside her. She moaned louder and louder and threw herself about wildly. I sought her c.l.i.t with my tongue. I stroked it. Simultaneously, I reached inside her with one finger. She pushed her hips into me with such force, I didn't think I could hold her. Suddenly, she stopped at the highest point in her thrusting and shuddered. I kept caressing her with my tongue until she collapsed. She was breathing heavily.

I made my way slowly back up her body, caressing her once more all over. She pressed herself eagerly against my hand and sighed with contentment.

When I'd made it back up to her level, I looked back over her whole body with an unbelievable feeling of tenderness.

"I love you," I said.

She looked at me, relaxed and satisfied. Her eyes spoke, but she didn't say it.

"I know," she said instead.

I asked myself whether I'd ever hear her say it.

Chapter 11.

She woke me with a kiss. "I'm going now," she said softly.

Everything in me pulled itself together. I wasn't quite fully awake yet, but the day was already gone. I didn't want her to go, but I knew it had to be this way. I, too, would soon go back to work as usual. The dream was over for the time being.

She had a coffee cup in her hand. "One more cup of coffee in bed," she said. "To wake up." Was something flas.h.i.+ng in her eyes? Had she noticed it herself? No, she was looking at me quite innocently.

I couldn't comprehend how she could be so awake this early in the morning. I had, after all, slept as much - or as little - as she. But I felt like I'd been put through a wringer, and she looked like she'd just spent a refres.h.i.+ng weekend at the spa.

I sat up and took the mug from her. She was sitting at the foot of the bed, but there was nothing erotic about it. "I never would have thought I'd be so sorry to leave after the way you dragged me over here."

"Oh, let it be already," I deflected. Did she have to start with these stories so G.o.d-awful early in the morning?

"No." She held her ground. "It was wonderful being here with you. I want you to know that."

She acted as though this were farewell forever! Or was that what she was trying to say? I felt a terrible fear course through my bones. I looked at her and tried to figure out what she was thinking. Her face was open and friendly. There was something else as well, but I couldn't quite make it out. Perhaps she wasn't completely awake either.

I reached out my hand and laid it on hers. "Will you call me this evening?" I wanted to make absolutely sure that I wouldn't have to call her. That would be too much like work. I looked at my alarm clock. "I'll be home after about six."

"I can't before -".

I interrupted her. "Or whenever you have time." I didn't want to know how long she would be busy with other women. Apparently, she already had appointments from before her "vacation". She really had a strong grasp of her business. Probably the "regulars" again!

I would simply have to learn to deal with that. I had pursued her, and I couldn't make her responsible for my squeamishness. I smiled at her. "I'm looking forward to it," I said.

"Yes," she said hesitantly. Something was there!

"What is it?" I asked directly.

She shook her head. "Oh, nothing. I just don't want to leave yet."

"Then stay awhile," I said. It was still early.

She stood up. "Unfortunately, that's not possible. I have -" she broke off.

I understood her already. She had an appointment soon. Love in the morning. And the way it sounded, today could be one of those ten-client days. Straight through from morning *til evening. Probably, I wouldn't even be able to touch her suggestively this evening. What a great start!

She leaned down and kissed me on the forehead. "Uh!" I grunted disappointedly. "Not even a real goodbye kiss? When we're not going to see each other all day long? An eternity!"

She laughed. "You really know how to get me!" she said good-naturedly. So she had seen through it! But I couldn't tell for sure.

She leaned over me, propping herself up on the bed. I wrapped my arms around her neck. She kissed me softly, but it was clear that she was holding back. Nevertheless, I felt how her kiss started a fire inside me. Just a little bit more, and maybe she would stay! I increased my pull on her neck and sighed in her mouth.

Carefully, she pulled away. "No." She was loving, but firm. "No more."

"Too bad." I'd never said anything truer.

She smiled understandingly. "Yes. But I really do have to go now."

I observed her beautiful lips and wondered when the next woman would kiss them. Was she already there waiting? Jealousy flooded me. I tried to calm myself. This was neither the time nor the place for that. Then I felt ashamed. She had perhaps ten women to please today, all of whom would expect a full show, and I was putting the moves on her!

I reached an arm out. "Fine," I said, without any particular intonation. "Then until this evening."

She touched my hand briefly and left.

Chapter 12.

All day long, I didn't have much time to think about her. In my absence, so much had collected on my desk that I felt like I was chipping away at a mountain that never got any smaller. Toward the end of the afternoon, I finally saw the surface of the desk peeking through.

When I opened the last project folder, her face suddenly forced itself between the pages. Her face, as it looked when she lay there in complete relaxation. Her face, as she leaned down and kissed me. Her beautiful face, looking right at me. Longing overtook me like a torture device. I looked at the clock. I'd be home in an hour, just like I'd said, but I didn't know when she'd call. And I couldn't call her. Who knew what she was doing right now? I preferred not to imagine that. But of course I couldn't prevent it. The images cascaded before me of their own volition. I saw her in bed with another woman. I saw her caressing and kissing the other woman. No, you're much too romantic! Remember what she told you! No! For G.o.d's sake, no!

I leapt up and threw the prospectus on the desk. Work was out of the question for the rest of the day. And I couldn't think about her without... I would soon forget how to think altogether, given those choices.

At home, I waited restlessly for the phone to ring. I tried to distract myself. I put on a CD; after a short time, I didn't care for it anymore; I chose another; after five minutes, the same thing again. The third time, I came across the Vivaldi. I looked at the cover for several minutes. I didn't play it.

I started to pace back and forth through the apartment, just like after our first night together. Suddenly, I jerked to a halt. She'd never actually said she was going to call me! And this morning, she'd been noticeably reserved. What if she wasn't going to call? What if she was never going to call? What if that was it? I didn't know her well enough to guess at the probability that she had really just taken a "vacation" with me - a vacation fling at home. And after that the usual: phone numbers that you never used, and then threw away after awhile.

I'd had the feeling this morning that she was making the farewell a little too dramatic for just one day.

The phone rang. I froze for a moment because it startled me so badly, then I dove for it.

I answered. The line was quiet, but I could tell that someone was there. Another prankster who hara.s.sed women, I bet! I took a breath to let loose my usual tirade against such callers.

"h.e.l.lo," I heard her say.

My heart skipped a beat. I let the air rush back out of my lungs. "h.e.l.lo," I said. It sounded scratchy. I cleared my throat. "It's nice of you to call."

"Isn't that what you wanted?" she asked. Oh, no, the day had really worn her out! She sounded exhausted, she sounded uninterested, and she sounded professional.

"Yes," I confirmed, as if I hadn't noticed her tone of voice. "But it's nice of you anyhow." I didn't much want to continue this conversation over the telephone. I wanted to see her. "How are you?"

"Fine," she said. "A little tired." If that was a little tired, then I was the Queen of Sheba!

My longing for her grew. I didn't have the impression that she was particularly interested in having any more company that evening, myself included. The most direct route seemed like the best one in this case. "You don't sound tired, you sound completely exhausted," I said. "I'd like to do something for you."

At first, the line was quiet again. She would have to think about what I could possibly mean by that offer. "For me?" she said in the same, astounded tone with which one questions a winning lottery ticket. Complete disbelief.

"Yes," I said winningly. "And only for you. I promise, cross my heart and hope to die, that this is not a come-on in disguise."

She had to think about that a little while longer. Then her curiosity started to take over. "What did you have in mind?" she asked, if rather skeptically.

I didn't want to discuss it with her over the phone. Either she trusted me or she didn't! "You can try it out if you want, but I can't do it over the phone!" Had that maybe sounded a bit too insinuating?

She thought about it again for a few seconds. Then she gave up. "Well, fine. Come over." A little sigh in her voice indicated that she felt this was the lesser evil. The lesser evil, compared to having to discuss it with me. After ten women, what difference could an eleventh make? That's exactly how it sounded.