Carter watched Margaret sleep with a curious tenderness, his fingertip tracing lightly the contours of cheekbone and brow-line until she murmured smilingly in her dreams. The pale rose-gray of dawn sifted through the thin curtains, and he could hear the whisper of the eternal sea calling to him from across the beach outside the window. After a glance at the clock, he bent to kiss her forehead before rising lightly from the tumbled bed.
He closed the bathroom door quietly before he turned on the light. In the wide mirror over the sink, he examined himself, noting the shallow half-circles her fingernails had left in his forearms where she'd clutched at him as her body shuddered and writhed beneath his. He stretched, cat-like, a strong thrum of returning desire vibrating through him as he was reminded of her uninhibited responses. He could feel his cock hardening again, and with a small groan he turned on the shower.
The water pulsed hotly over his skin; he lathered his skin with the slim bar of soap and stroked himself idly, his cock stinging deliciously against his fingers. He thought of her lying there, abandoned to sleep and dreaming, her pale skinned body flushed with heat, just waiting to be teased into wakefulness. He thought about how late he was going to be if he went back in to her and touched her. He thought about not giving a damn, and his fingers curled around the hard length of his shaft as his body jerked at the thought of making love to her again. With sudden decision, he shut off the water, wrapped a swift towel around his waist and went back into the bedroom.
He stopped in surprise, blinking at the sight of the empty bed, the warm sheets chilling rapidly beneath the breeze from the open window.
"Margaret?" he called, his voice puzzled as he looked around the room, searching for her. There was nothing to show where she had gone, but on the dresser he spied the card-shaped room key propped against the lamp. Biting back a snarl of frustration, he dressed quickly and tucked the key into his wallet before leaving the room. It was an effort not to search for her, to ask at the front desk, but he managed to restrain himself. Besides, what could he say? "Excuse me, but have you seen the piano player?"
For some reason, the office was even more frustrating than usual. Carter dealt with the sheaf of problems on his desk, dispatching repairmen and maintenance staff to his various rental properties with the ease of long practice. His assistant, Jill, fielded phone calls and, after her first glance at her boss's face, provided a steady stream of coffee. He had to fight to keep his mind on work, catching himself more than once drifting off into a reverie that found his hand stroking lightly across his lap. He called Margaret's room more than once, but there was never any answer.
Just before noon, Jill stuck her head into his office. "We've got a problem over at the West Avenue property - that elevator is out of service again."
"Damn," Carter muttered, leafing through papers. "And all the maintenance guys are out on other calls. I'll have to take it - and I'll grab some lunch while I'm out." She nodded and went back to her desk as he headed out the door.
He didn't notice that Margaret was in the car until he'd closed the door and started the engine. It was the dim fragrance of her perfume that alerted him, that and the salt-musk smell of her skin. In the rear-view mirror, he saw her smiling at him.
"I've been waiting for you," she said, her voice teasing. Carter turned in his seat to look at her in disbelief.
"Where'd you disappear to this morning?" he demanded, his foot unconsciously gunning the engine.
Her smile was mysterious. "Oh, somewhere," she replied sweetly. "I didn't want to make you late for work." Her eyes met his in the mirror. "Why don't you pull out of this oh-so-public parking lot?"
He took a deep breath, backed the car out of the space and turned onto the street. Margaret slipped lithely between the two front seats, sank down into the passenger's seat and reclined it slightly. "You don't know how relieved I am that you don't drive a stick shift," she murmured.
"And why is that?" Carter asked. She reached across and took his hand, stroking his fingers with an almost electric lightness.
"Because you don't have to give your full attention to driving," Margaret's voice whispered as she put his hand on the bare skin of her thigh and guided it beneath the hem of her skirt. Heat seemed to shimmer off her flesh against his fingers, she arched slightly in her seat until he brushed against the damp triangle of curls between her legs.
"Jesus, Margaret!" he gasped, the car weaving slightly. With a soft laugh, her hand reached down to press his fingers against her.
"I was waiting for you an awfully long time, Carter," she said huskily. "It got me thinking . . . "
"About what?" he managed, his fingers circling around the hard flicker of her clitoris until she moaned.
"About how much I want you." And with this, one of her hands moved across to stroke the growing swell of his cock. All of his hard-won restraint was lost in the face of this reminder, he was afire at once under the knowing pleasure of her touch. With a savage twist, he turned the car abruptly down a side street and slammed to a stop in a secluded parking lot at the end of it.
He reached down and pulled at the seat release, shoved the seat back on its carriage and reclined it simultaneously. Her hand cupped him still, thumb stroking slow circles against the line of his stiff prick. Carter looked over at her, saw her run the tip of a pink tongue across the generous curve of her lips.
"Shall I show you?" she asked softly, before he could speak, and she turned in her seat to undo his pants and take out his cock. It was hot and hard in her hands, and her fingers drifted agonizingly across the taut skin until he gasped, his hips thrusting up in a convulsive shudder. "I think you want me to show you, don't you, Carter?"
She did not wait for him to reply, but bent her head over his lap, her fingers gently caressing him as she pulled him towards her lips. He could feel the wet hunger of her tongue lapping at him, gliding over every inch of exposed skin. Her breath was warm against him and he groaned involuntarily. Margaret lifted her head slightly to look at him, the veins pulsing in high relief, glistening where her mouth had made him wet.
"Please!" he found himself begging, wanting her hot mouth tight around him. She did not make him wait, lowering her head, she took the swollen head of his cock into her mouth and tightened around it, her fingers stroking his shaft, curling around it as her tongue swirled around and around. He heard her groan very low in her throat, the vibrations rippling across his nerves. His hands found her hair and tightened in it, pressing her down onto him.
Margaret took him slowly, resisting his attempts at haste, slowly deeper and deeper until he was engulfed by the warm passion of her mouth. With a muffled gasp, he arched up from the seat and felt her fingers slide beneath the waistband of his trousers, easing them down from his hips. He was dimly aware of her hands squeezing and stroking his balls as her mouth moved in ever-faster spirals around him. Carter started to shake, and then he lost all control and bucked up hard and harder into that hot mouth that had suddenly become everything in his world. He could hear her moaning as he started to explode into her mouth, into her throat, and he pinned her down against his hips, forcing her to swallow desperately as his cum jetted into her again and again.
A dizzying time later, he felt her raise her head from his lap and he opened his eyes to look at her. There was an almost feline smile of satisfaction on her face as her tongue slid around her lips, and she sat back into her seat, watching him.
"My God, Margaret," he managed finally, reaching with shaking fingers to pull his trousers back up.
