This was her life for the next however many hours, and in that moment, she didn’t feel like pretending she hated it. “Beau.”
“Lola.”
“Roll up the partition.”
He swallowed audibly. “We’re almost there.”
She leaned over and hit the button herself. “This won’t take long,” she whispered. She thought her advance would’ve surprised him, but no sooner had she lifted a knee than he was pulling her onto his lap. He released her to unbutton his slacks, but she stopped him.
“Let me,” she said.
She moved his hands to her breasts. He felt her impatiently, his fingers so hard she winced. She took him out. He went to put his mouth on her nipple, but she caught his face and lifted it to hers. “There’s no time for that,” she said. Her mouth pulled to his like a magnet to steel. They kissed with the same fury of urgency. She pushed aside her underwear and helped him inside her, taking a few agonizingly long moments to adjust to his girth when all she wanted was to screw him fast.
They began to move. She took his earlobe in her mouth as they found their rhythm. His fingers dug into her scalp, skin—anywhere he could get.
He took over, securing her hips to him and thrusting up into her. Her head fell back. The car ceiling blurred with bright spots. He guided her with one hand and circled her clit with the other. The ache from the last few days balled low in her stomach, growing and growing until she gasped in a silent scream with the crest of her orgasm. Beau pulled her off of him. He took himself in one hand, held her hip with the other and came all over the insides of her thighs.
“Beau,” she panted. “God, Beau. How? How are we so…?”
His breaths were also labored. “Fast?”
She was going to say “good together,” but even in her state, she knew she shouldn’t. He looked at her as if he knew anyway.
They were no longer driving. Beau searched the space around them and scratched the back of his head. He frowned. “I didn’t plan for sex in the car.”
“I apologize for the disruption to tonight’s program,” she said, her mouth tingling with the urge to smile.
“It’s all right,” he said distractedly. “I just—aha.” He picked her up and moved her from his lap to the seat. He reached for a beverage napkin from the limo’s built-in bar, pulled her leg open and wiped the inside of one thigh.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Cleaning you.”
It was unnecessary, but she didn’t stop him. Being felt that way only added to the warm satisfaction her orgasm had left her with. “Why’d you pull out?” she asked.
His eyes traveled up. They glinted to match his smirk. “My sister can be intense. Your concentration should be on her at all times. I didn’t want to leave anything behind that might—distract you.”
“Oh. Always one step ahead,” she murmured.
He dropped the napkin but didn’t stop touching her.
Lola’s head fell back against the window. “Your hands feel good.”
“You mean when they aren’t trying to get in your underwear?”
“That too.” She smiled. “But this is also nice.”
He pressed his thumbs to the insides of her thighs and massaged. “You keep tensing. Are you nervous?”
“No,” she said, her eyes closed. “You have strong hands. And I’m not used to this.”
“To what?”
“A massage. I haven’t had many in my life.”
He stopped. “You haven’t?”
She lifted her head to look at him. “Our definitions of luxury are probably a little different. For instance, a car wash is something I only allow when we’re flush.”
“Oh, no.” He crawled over her body and kissed her. “Tonight.” He pecked her again. “You’re getting the massage of your life.”
“From you?” she asked.
“As if I want anyone else touching you.”
The window rattled suddenly, and they jumped away from each other like teenagers caught making out.
“Beau?” came a woman’s voice. She peered through the glass.
“Don’t worry,” he said as he tucked himself back into his pants. “They’re tinted.”
Lola fixed her underwear and dress. Instinctively, she leaned over and straightened Beau’s tie. It was red, like the one he’d been wearing the night they’d met.
Before she could move away, he put his hand around her wrist and pulled her back. “Thanks,” he said, kissing her once. “If I haven’t said it yet, thank you for saying yes. I love—having you by my side.”
He unlocked the door and got out while Lola stayed frozen where she was. He’d stumbled over the word love as if he were going to say something else. Something like “I love you.” Her—Lola, which was ridiculous. True, from the moment they’d met, their relationship had been intense. Their first night had been a series of dates in the span of a few hours. They had a connection—an attraction—but it didn’t matter. It couldn’t evolve beyond the physical.
“You’ve been sitting at the curb for ten minutes,” she heard from outside in a woman’s noticeable French accent. “What the hell were you doing?”
Beau cleared his throat. “Business call.”
“Business?” She eyed Lola as she exited the car behind him. “Of course. Yes.”
Lola found herself face to face with a woman who looked nothing like Beau. Her raven-colored hair was wrapped into a chignon. She just came up to Lola’s chin, and she seemed to know it, turning her thin, pointed nose up in the air for added height.
Lola extended her hand and introduced herself.
His sister waved at the air around them. “I’m sure I’m coming down with something,” she said. “I’d hate to get you sick.”
Beau took Lola’s hand instead and brought it to his side. “Lola, this is Brigitte. Who apparently has plans tonight.”
Brigitte sighed and smoothed her hands over her tight, red sleeveless dress. “I don’t, but my mother loved to say ‘always dress for company.’”
“We’re hardly company,” Beau said.