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  “Thank you,” she whispered. “I’m not embarrassed. Not now, anyway.”

  “I should hope not!”

  Justin spoon-fed more compliments and Carin’s face grew warmer as she continued playing with her dessert. As Justin continued to probe, she lifted her head and blew her bangs from her eyes.

  “I can see you aren’t giving up,” she whispered. “So I’ll tell you. I’m a thirty-four.”

  Justin chuckled. “Thirty-four what, silly?”

  “Justin Carter!”

  “Yes, Ms. London?”

  “You don’t ask a girl questions like that.”

  “I don’t?”

  “No, you don’t.”

  Carin met Justin’s mischievous grin with a blushing smile. She couldn’t help liking his playful banter. She’d allowed herself so little of it in the past.

  “I’m sort of between cups anyway,” she murmured.

  “A and B, I’m to presume?”

  She leaned forward, curled her hands around her mouth and whispered, “I can fit into a C. But it’s tight.”

  “Oh my,” Justin said, glancing furtively about the room. “That’s quite a visual.”

  He sipped his coffee in silence while finding Carin’s foot with his under the table. They played footsie in the quietness of their own thoughts as she took small bites of her dessert. When he asked for a taste, she slid the plate to the center of the table.

  “I’d prefer you feed me,” he said.

  As on the night they’d met, when Justin had so boldly plopped down at her table uninvited, Carin was taken aback. But not enough to keep her from sinking her fork into the spongy confection and scooping out what she hoped he’d consider the perfect mouthful. He steadied her shaky hand with his as his mouth covered the tines.

  * * * * *

  A short while later, while walking out of the restaurant, Justin draped Carin’s pashmina over her shoulders. She huddled under his arm and they meandered through the parking lot under the watchful gaze of an anticipatory moon. She felt deliriously happy and safe, more so than she had in years. It was as if she were in a Hollywood movie or having the best darn dream of her life. Her heart thundered while anticipating a first kiss from her dreamy leading man.

  They stayed parked in Justin’s leathery-smelling Mercedes-Benz for a long while as the engine idled. The dashboard was lit green and red like a cockpit and jazz played on the radio. Warm air blew onto Carin’s legs from underneath. She rubbed her fingers languidly along her calves, as she had on the night they’d met. Justin turned in his seat and watched her. She smiled sweetly as she felt his stare and quickly puckered when he pulled her to him.

  It was a once-in-a-lifetime, worth-waiting-for kiss for Carin, heightened by years of loneliness and disillusionment. Justin’s lips were supple and the faint stubble surrounding them stimulated her sensitive skin. The heavenly scent of his aftershave—the same scent that had lingered on her neck for hours as she lay in her bed after the night they’d met—emanated from his shadowed cheeks. His manner was not aggressive yet he was unmistakably in charge.

  The kiss seemed to never end yet began again and again. He cupped the back of her head and his tongue entered her mouth. After it recoiled, his lips remained parted on hers, and when she did not reciprocate his intimacy, his tongue came out and again entered her mouth. He pulled it back as before and waited open-mouthed, yet she continued to hesitate. He touched her cheek with his fingertips.

  “It’s okay,” he whispered onto her lips.

  His tongue entered her mouth again and like before, he soon pulled it back. This time, like a springtime cub coming from a dark cave, her tongue ventured out.

  As the windows began to fog, Justin made good use of the added privacy by touching Carin’s breast through her baby doll top. Contrary to her norm, she did not push his hand away. Her fruit was ripe and ready to be plucked and she pressed her body against his hand. As the minutes flew by, she became progressively more relaxed, more confident, more excited, and less restrained. At some point, she found herself straddling him on his seat, her arms locked around his neck, her tongue deep in his mouth. He reached between her legs and touched her through her stockings. Again, she did not pull away. Instead, she pushed herself against his fingers, moaned into his mouth and held on for dear life. As her orgasm neared, she mustered as much decorum as she could, and in the process almost suppressed her release entirely.

  After the few tremors that had betrayed her began to fade, Carin’s lips again found Justin’s and she kissed him long and hard.

  Justin returned Carin’s kiss heartily, pleased that the experience had moved her so completely. He was impressed that he’d made her come so quickly, and through the mesh of her stockings, no less. But he couldn’t help wondering—why would a woman want to stifle an orgasm?

  Chapter Three

  While Justin was surprised that Carin had climaxed so easily in his car that night, Carin was mortified. She had never been uninhibited, not even with her husband on her honeymoon. She was bothered to think she’d given Justin the wrong impression and troubled more by the timing of their budding relationship. But from that very first encounter, she realized she’d found what she’d always longed for and never had—a man with whom she was completely comfortable, excited for, rapidly falling in love with and eager to please.

  As an only child of religious parents, Carin had grown up knowing that God had a plan for her, a plan that would reveal itself as she traveled through life. With Justin, she felt a physical and emotional connection quicker, stronger and more naturally than with any guy previously, which enabled her to latch on to a glimmer of rationalization for her ill-timed behavior. Maybe Justin was sent to help shed the cocoon she’d always been in? Maybe, because she had suffered selflessly for years in a loveless marriage, God had put Justin in her path as a reward?

  When she’d offered him a bite of her dessert at the restaurant, she’d realized a metamorphosis was under way. Never before would she have fed a man from her fork on a second date. Yet, for Justin, she took pains to prepare the perfect mouthful. Heck, she’d have fed him the whole darn tiramisu and licked the fork clean if that’s what he’d wanted. Right then she understood—if her wings were to be outstretched, Justin would be the man to spread them.

  Regardless of this rationale, after having let down her guard in his car, she tried desperately to put it back up. Over the next two weeks, she saw Justin several times, and while she allowed kissing and minor petting, she was determined to keep their intimate activity to that. She politely refused Justin’s several invitations to see his house, knowing she might be tempted if alone with him there. As she pulled back physically though, she couldn’t help bounding heedlessly forward emotionally.

  Justin sensed that Carin was falling for him, and while he wasn’t surprised by that, he was surprised to feel himself falling for her as well. As a millionaire bachelor rich on charm, he’d had more than his share of women over the years, but by design none fulfilled him in anything but a base way. What he was experiencing with Carin was decidedly different and unexpectedly welcomed. The fact that he’d wait to take her to bed, even for a date or two, was testament to that. Yet he was also shrewd enough to know that being patient was the only way to get what he wanted.

  Once or twice over those few early dates, Justin inquired lightheartedly about Carin’s runaway drunk of a husband, asking if she’d received a call or text or poke or tweet or snap chat or possibly a message by carrier pigeon. But each time he brought it up, Carin’s blue eyes would plead with him to drop the subject and so he would.

  Justin soon learned of Carin’s love of Broadway musicals, as almost immediately she began a quest to drag him to each and every one of them. She had taken dance for many years growing up and had a childlike excitement for anything theatrical. At first, Justin went along with a disparaging eye roll, but soon he couldn’t help enjoying the shows, if only because of Carin’s infectious enthusiasm.

  They
saw three shows in quick succession. After the third, Carin was quiet in the backseat of Justin’s limo as they were driven from Manhattan to his house in Connecticut.

  Justin had talked of his home with great pride since they’d met. He’d mentioned the architect by name and had boasted of the house’s importance as a late-century modern. He had talked knowledgably about its unique, “eco-solar” blue glass exterior and was pleased with its setting on the Sound, a stone’s throw from Manhattan. Carin had finally said yes to his invitation to visit the house, no doubt because she was curious about it, but Justin wondered if her silence now suggested she knew what her affirmative response had indicated to him.

  Carin felt Justin tightly clench her hand as they pulled off a country road and onto a cobblestone driveway. The limo serpentined through a hundred yards of woods before coming to an expansive lawn that to Carin looked more like a golf course than a front yard, save for the many flood-lit statues and sculptures ornamenting it. As the car rounded a circular drive and pulled to a stop at the front door, she wondered just how wealthy this guy really was. She sat looking through the car’s tinted window, her mouth hanging open.

  The house shimmered before her like a spirit. Light from a harvest moon, refracting from the Sound behind the house, encircled the roof like a silver halo. Dwarf Japanese maples, imperial bonsai and other exotic plantings reflected darkly in the façade’s thick, blue glass.

  “We’re here!” Justin exclaimed, and for the first time since leaving New York he released Carin’s hand. He got out of the car and ran around and opened her door before the driver had a chance to do the job himself.

  The interior tour of the house lasted a full hour, Carin finishing first one and then a second glass of expensive-tasting chardonnay as Justin guided her from room to room. To Carin’s count, there were a total of twenty-one rooms, including a professionally equipped kitchen, a sunken living room, a dining room to seat thirty, an office, a library, a billiards room, a media center, a solarium and on and on. In each, original works of modern art dotted the walls, while sculptures, carvings and figurines vied for space on tables, bookshelves and mantelpieces.

  At one point, they found themselves in the master bathroom suite, which itself consisted of three separate rooms, one featuring nothing but a marble tub for two and a view of Long Island Sound through a pair of French doors.

  Whatever that architect’s credentials, Carin thought to herself, he certainly knows luxury.

  After completing the tour, they returned to the beautiful sunken living room. Over Justin’s protests, Carin pulled him by the hand to the center of the room, where she attempted to teach him dance steps like the ones they’d seen in the show earlier that evening. Justin had proclaimed to have two left feet, and while Carin soon learned he wasn’t lying, his proficiency at dance didn’t matter; just being in his arms made her feel light and free. She had become more relaxed after the wine and giggled as she led him through a tangled-up tango.

  Soon, the tango turned into a slow dance, and the giggling stopped. The room was quiet and dark, the only light provided by the brilliant moon beyond the windows, which cast a glittering blanket over the water. A half hour passed before Justin stopped and gave Carin a gentle peck on her forehead. He bowed his head and whispered warmly in her ear that he was happy she was there. She knew what he meant and looked up to him wide-eyed. He kissed her forehead, took her by the hand and led her up the stairs to his bedroom. There, for the next several hours, he showed her a dance in the dark with which he seemed far more familiar.

  * * * * *

  The next morning, as they lay side-by-side in Justin’s mammoth, double-king bed, Carin felt a need to talk. The night before, she’d been put into positions as new to her as the dance steps had been to Justin.

  “You don’t know this about me,” she ventured, securing a comforter over their naked bodies. “But I’ve been with only two people. Nobody besides him…and now you.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me.”

  “Because I’m bad at it?”

  He moved so their bare legs and arms touched under the comforter. She didn’t try to pull away.

  “Your inexperience doesn’t make you bad at it,” he said. “You’re just a good girl who took a while to find her guy.”

  Carin felt her face flush. Even after getting married, she knew she hadn’t found her guy.

  “Are you my guy, Justin?” she squeaked.

  He turned to her and smiled casually but she didn’t smile back. She lay stone-faced, staring at the ceiling. He lifted his hand from under the comforter, put his fingers on her chin and turned her face toward him.

  “I think you’re unique in so many ways, Carin,” he said.

  “You do?”

  “Most of the women I’ve dated cultivate their allure. They use it to their advantage and let it define them. When I saw you across that crowded room, it was like a breath of fresh air. You weren’t out for a one-night stand with some anonymous guy, that’s for sure.”

  Carin cupped her hand over Justin’s and nestled their entwined fingers under her chin.

  “I’m glad you could tell that about me,” she said breathily.

  “That’s not to say you aren’t alluring. You’re incredibly sexy, whether you know it or not. Last night it started coming out even more. Your mouth felt perfect on me.”

  Carin looked at Justin, chagrined, still not used to his frank conversation.

  “That’s kind of new to me too,” she whispered.

  “But the hand, yes?” he replied. “I could tell you’ve done that a lot. That was your thing with him, I guess.”

  “I never had a thing with him or anybody else.”

  “You had a sexual relationship with him, right?”

  “Of course. I was his wife. But it was the opposite of last night.”

  “It’s a chemistry thing, I guess.”

  “It’s a heart thing, Justin. Pure and simple.”

  “You heart me?”

  “I did those things with you, didn’t I?” Carin closed her eyes and cringed. She’d never been one for cat and mouse but she wished she’d left more mystery.

  Justin pried his hand from hers and wrapped his arm around her.

  “I’m feeling things I haven’t felt in a long time,” he said into her ear.

  She felt herself melt and had a sudden desire to pour herself into him.

  “Last night wouldn’t have happened unless I was sure of that,” she whispered, pushing against him. There was a pause and then she added, “I waited almost two years with him, Justin. Can you believe that? Two years! With you it was fifteen days and two hours. I guess that proves I believe in love at first sight!”

  She knew she’d said too much but couldn’t help herself. She wanted him to know exactly why she’d allowed him to make love to her. She rolled up onto her side, her back to him, and faced a sliding glass door that led to a large balcony overlooking the water. The Sound, which had appeared gray and foreboding upon awaking at daybreak, now glittered silvery-gold beneath the rising sun.

  “I didn’t mean to rush you,” he whispered, pressing faintly against her.

  “You didn’t. It felt right. Please tell me it was right.”

  “It was very right, baby.”

  He pressed his hips against her again.

  “With him, it wasn’t entirely bad,” she said, meeting his gentle pressure. “At least early on it wasn’t. But…it wasn’t like I needed the S-E-X either.”

  Justin didn’t reply, merely stroked her hair in silence.

  Eventually they arrived at a conversation about the night she lost her virginity, which occurred just a few months before her wedding day. She’d felt closer to her fiancé Kyle than to any guy previously and let him do things with her sooner than others too; but the thoughts she related about her first time weren’t loving ones. She spoke of stale beer breath, whiskers burning her cheek, a hangnail hurting her and the fear of pregnancy for weeks after. What she rem
embered most was Kyle putting his hand over her mouth and shushing her when she’d finally begun to enjoy it.

  “He was inside me,” she whispered. “We were alone in my parents’ house and I was so nervous. But it started to feel good, you know? I didn’t understand why he quieted me.”

  Carin looked blankly out the window. The leaves on a cluster of birch trees by Justin’s empty dock were gilded in the sunlight. Boat traffic had ceased for the season. Carin had a clear view across the water to Long Island. As she lay quietly, she contemplated her own frankness. It helped that Justin was so nonjudgmental…and curious.

  “It sounds as if you two weren’t too playful,” he said.

  She continued staring across the water, taking time to respond.

  “We did stuff,” she offered, nudging against him. “He liked my body. If I wore lingerie, it was off fast.”

  “Oh?”

  “And it never took him long to…you know. But you’re right. There wasn’t a lot of variety. Like…we never did it with…we never did it the behind way.”

  “I’m surprised to hear you speak about such a thing as anal sex,” he said.

  She reached back and slapped him hard on the thigh. “Oh my gosh, Justin!”

  “What?”

  “I’m not talking about that! Good gosh! I just meant like last night!”

  Justin laughed. He could hardly believe a beautiful woman, a wife, could go her whole adult life without getting it doggy-style. The misunderstanding made him feel wonderful about her. And wonderful about himself, the man who’d given it to her. After all the talk of her sex life, Justin was hard, and as his cock found her slit, he realized her confessions had excited her too. He looked out the window to a chaise lounge chair on the deck and made a mental note. If she were around in the spring, he’d fuck her on it.