French Connection Vol. 1

  “I can try to reschedule.”

  Gavin's good humor seemed to be back and I relaxed a bit. Both of us having good news and being together to celebrate it was rare. I didn't want to spend all night with him being moody because our schedules conflicted.

  “I don't know about you,” I said. “But I'm starving.”

  Gavin signaled for the waiter who'd been hovering in the wings. It hadn't taken me long with Gavin to realize how many people waited around to do things for him. Not in a bad way, and he didn't take advantage of it, but he was definitely used to it, which was funny since he hadn't been born into it. I wondered if I'd ever get used to having money, but then I remembered that the money keeping my business afloat and paying all of the bills wasn't actually mine to begin with.

  When we'd discussed him supporting my law practice, and us moving in together, we'd gone round and round about the financial situation. Technically, I was listed as a partner at Club Privé, but I'd had little time to do any real work on the business. Gavin had wanted to just put my name on his accounts and let me do what I wanted, but I hadn't been comfortable with that. I loved Gavin, and even though neither of us had said it, I knew we both saw our future together. Still, we'd only been together a little over a year and we'd been through hell at the beginning. We'd finally managed to compromise, but I was always aware that the money in my account came from a paycheck I received from my boyfriend for a business I barely thought about anymore. Sometimes, the money thing bothered me, but if I got the congressman to help get this bill passed, it'd be well-worth the sting to my pride.

  Chapter 4

  Gavin

  I had to admit, I was a bit surprised when Carrie suggested we get dessert at home, our not-so-original or subtle code for 'let's get out of here so we can have hot, sweaty sex'. I'd planned on making a move, but I'd already prepared myself for a preemptive excuse about how hard she'd been working and how glad she'd be to get some sleep. Granted, that was the truth and I knew she wasn't using it as an excuse not to be with me, but it was getting harder not to feel like that. And, of course, that was followed by guilt since I knew everything Carrie did was to rescue exploited girls, boys, men and women. It wasn't just about the sex though. Sure, I missed making love to her, of having the time to indulge our desires, but I missed the connection more.

  I hoped that her sultry smile when she'd mentioned dessert was the beginning of us getting back on track. When we'd first gotten together, she'd enjoyed having me coax her out of her comfort zone and had even asked me to teach her more about the things I'd liked, the things that had led me to create Club Privé in the first place. But then she'd begun to throw herself into her work and, lately, I'd been wondering if she'd ever really wanted that in the first place or if she'd just said it to make me happy. It was the kind of thing a couple should talk about, but we had such little time together anymore, I didn't want to waste it bringing up such a heavy subject. I could survive without a lot of the things I enjoyed in the bedroom. I was more worried about if I'd survive losing her.

  “You're thinking awfully hard,” Carrie said as the cab took us home.

  “It's nothing,” I said. I slid my arm around her waist and smiled. I was disappointed that I hadn't been able to surprise her with this vacation to Cannes, but I refused to let it spoil our evening. I was excited for the opportunity she had and I was proud of her for all of the work she was doing.

  She leaned against me and sighed. “I've missed this,” she said softly, pulling my arm more tightly around her.

  “Me too,” I said. I pressed my lips against the top of her head. While I loved the sparks and electricity that came with us touching, there was something to be said for a slow burn as well.

  I paid the cabbie and gave him a nice tip as a thank you for not trying to make chit-chat and just letting us relax in silence on the ride. Some taxi drivers felt the need to fill silence, but he hadn't, letting Carrie and me maintain the anticipation between us. As we headed toward the doors, I reached out and took her hand, threading my fingers through hers. My skin hummed where it touched hers and the sensation traveled up my arm. I'd forgotten how such a simple gesture could make me want her so much.

  Neither one of us spoke as we rode up in the elevator, but the moment the door to our loft closed behind us, I pulled her into my arms.

  “I've been thinking about this all day,” I said before lowering my mouth to hers.

  The moment our lips touched, heat flooded through me. She moaned as I slid my tongue into her mouth and I felt her hands clutch at my shirt. I kissed her slowly, thoroughly exploring her mouth as if for the first time. My hands slid down to the small of her back and rested there, hovering just above her ass. As her tongue curled around mine, I dropped my hands lower, squeezing the firm muscles as I pulled her even more tightly against me, letting her feel my erection pressing against her stomach.

  “Bedroom,” she gasped, tearing her mouth away from mine. “Now.”

  We shed our clothes as we went, my desire to take it slow replaced by her contagious urgency. By the time we reached the bed, both of us were naked. I reached for her, loving the feel of her silky skin beneath my palms. I cupped her breasts, my cock stiffening even more at the weight of them. I loved her body, every dip and curve, every flaw and imperfection. It was all her. I brushed my thumbs over her nipples and they hardened under my touch. I never tired of how her body responded to me. The flush of her skin. How wet I knew she would be when I finally reached her pussy.

  She slid her hand down my chest and I sucked in a breath as she raked her nails across my skin. Damn. I loved when she did that. When her hand closed around my cock, I groaned. She stroked me expertly, knowing exactly how I liked to be touched. I shifted away from her grasp, not wanting this to end too quickly, and bent my head to take one of her nipples into my mouth.

  She moaned as I sucked on the hardened bit of flesh. I alternated suction with tongue and teeth, teasing at it until I felt her hands in my hair. I released it and started to move toward the other one, but a hand on my chest stopped me. Carrie gave me a little shove, just hard enough to let me know what she wanted. My eyes met hers and she smiled.

  If she wanted to drive for a while tonight, that was fine. I threw back the covers and situated myself on the bed. My heart thudded in my chest as she climbed onto the bed and straddled my legs. The heat inside me grew. It had been a while since she'd been on top and I'd missed the sight of those beautiful breasts bouncing while she rode me.

  I swallowed hard as she positioned herself above my cock. Things were moving much faster than I'd wanted them to go, but with her rubbing the tip of my aching dick against her wet pussy lips, how the hell was I supposed to tell her to wait? I grabbed onto her hips, wanting to drag this out, but Carrie had other ideas. She lowered herself onto me, her pace slow but not teasing. Without any prep, she was impossibly tight, squeezing me almost to the point of pain, and I could only imagine how it felt for her.

  I grabbed onto the sheets and gritted my teeth, using every ounce of my self-control not to lose it right there. I squeezed my eyes closed as wet heat enveloped me and I could feel the muscles in her thighs trembling with the intensity of being filled so completely. It didn't matter how many times we did this or how well I prepared her, the initial penetration was always like this, a nearly overwhelming sensation as our bodies fit together in a way that we never had with anyone else.

  She sighed as she came to rest, her fingers flexing against my chest as her body adapted to my size. I opened my eyes, and studied her face, tracing every inch of it. Her eyes were closed, her brow furrowed in what looked like concentration. Her lips were parted slightly, her no-smudge lipstick earning its name after our earlier kiss.

  When her eyes opened, she saw me looking and smiled. She shifted her hips, angling herself until her clit rubbed against the base of my cock. I knew she'd hit it right when she shuddered and then began to move. I waited for her to get her rhythm before following, raising my
hips to meet her downward thrusts with upward ones of my own, driving myself deeper into her.

  “Fuck, yes...” she hissed as we clashed together.

  I let her control her movements and busied my hands at her breasts. If we weren't going to take things slow, I wasn't going to be as gentle as I usually tried to be. I cupped her breasts, then squeezed, drawing a moan from her. I took her nipples between my fingers and began to roll and tug on them, increasing pressure as she arched her back, pushing her breasts at me. I had the sudden image of putting clamps on that tender flesh, hearing Carrie's cries of pleasure as I taught her to enjoy the new sensations, soothing them after removing the clamps, leaving them swollen and tender...

  I shook my head. I didn't need that. This was enough. I gave her nipples a twist, not enough to cause real pain, but enough to give her a jolt. Carrie's body jerked and her nails dug into my chest. I hissed, enjoying the pinpricks of pain from where she was marking me.

  Her breathing was coming more rapidly now and I dropped one of my hands, still using the other to manipulate her nipple. I slipped my hand between us, my fingers quickly finding her swollen clit. Two passes over that little bundle of nerves and her body was tensing as she came. Her pussy tightened around me and I swore. I was getting close but I didn't want this to end yet. I wanted to flip us over and drive into her until she came again and again, screaming my name. I wanted to bury my cock deep inside her and lose myself in her body.

  Before I could do any of that, Carrie was rolling off of me and taking my cock in her mouth. One hand massaged my balls as the other gripped the base of me, taking care of what she couldn't get into her mouth. She bobbed her head, the suction just this side of painful.

  “Carrie.” I put my hand on her head. “Please, babe. I'm too close.”

  She dropped her head further down, taking me all the way to the back of her throat, something that had taken a lot of practice for her to accomplish and something that was always guaranteed to make me come.

  I cried out, my fingers twisting in her curls as I came. She drew back as my cock spurted into her mouth, letting the last bit catch her chin. She grinned at me as she wiped it off, then climbed off of the bed and headed into the bathroom. I watched her go as I tried to catch my breath. Not that I had an issue with getting an amazing blow job from my girlfriend, but what the hell had that been? Even with the smile at the end, it didn't feel like she'd done it because she thought I'd wanted it, but rather because it had been the quickest way to get me to finish.

  When she came out of the bathroom a few minutes later, she handed me a warm washcloth, then pulled on one of my t-shirts and climbed back into bed. I waited for her to say something as I cleaned myself up, but she rolled onto her side, her back to me, and didn't say a word. I tossed the washcloth into the hamper and pulled the covers over us both. I moved up next to her, curling my body around her from behind, and brushed back some of her hair. I pressed my lips against the spot under her ear that always turned her on.

  “I love you, babe,” she murmured. “But no more tonight. I'm exhausted.”

  She already sounded half-asleep, so I knew she wasn't lying, but it stung. Had that been the reason for what had happened? Carrie rarely took control of things like that in the bedroom, and the few times she had, it had always been to tease me, to prolong the sexual experience. Never to have a quickie. Not that I was opposed to quickies, but they were usually because we had some place to be at a specific time or we were in a position where we could be caught by other people. Not in our bed at nine o'clock at night. If she'd said she was too tired for sex, I would've understood. If she'd said she wanted a quickie because she was tired, that would've been fine too, but something about that had been off.

  I frowned, tempted to roll over and stay on my side of the bed. I couldn't help but wonder if Carrie had fucked me tonight as much as a consolation prize because she hadn't been able to agree to the trip to France right away. Was that what our relationship had become? Pity fucks and just getting off? If all I'd wanted was an orgasm, I could've taken care of that myself.

  I tightened my arm around Carrie as a stab of fear went through me. Was this the beginning of the end? I was already feeling like my sexual needs were being put on the back burner, and I was willing to give up the kinks that I liked, but if I lost the rest of the connection we had, I didn't think I could handle it. Falling in love with Carrie had been the best and hardest thing I'd ever done, and I couldn't lose her.

  I was more determined than ever to get us to France. We needed this. We had to get the fire back. I rested my cheek against the top of Carrie's head and concentrated on the sound of her slow, steady breathing, letting it lull me into a restless sleep.

  Chapter 5

  Gavin

  When I woke up, Carrie's side of the bed was empty, save for a note on her pillow. She'd gone into the office to work on polishing her proposal for her meeting with the congressman and to try to track down the governor's daughter. I frowned as I read the note. I remembered Robyn Leeds from when Carrie had been asked to help find her. She'd asked me if I'd thought it'd be a good idea since she was a lawyer, not a PI. The last I'd heard from Carrie, Robyn had been doing fine and was ready to testify against her pimp. Had Carrie told me that something else had happened and I didn't remember?

  I sighed as I climbed out of bed. That seemed like the sort of thing I should know. I'd planned on spending the day with Carrie, the two of us doing some things around the apartment. Maybe going out for normal couple stuff like grocery shopping. Granted, we rarely ate anything at home anymore, but maybe buying specific things would make us more likely to want to start. Now that she was at work, I found myself alone in the apartment with nothing to do.

  Before I'd met Carrie, these were the kinds of days I'd have used for networking, mingling at the club, meeting new people who could benefit from the software I designed, or ones who were just important people to know. People like Vincent Paoli.

  Since Carrie was gone, maybe this was a good time to start coming up with ideas for the European club. I could've worked from home, but there wasn't really a point if I was the only one here. For a moment, I let myself think about what it would be like to have the kind of life where Carrie and I were sitting together in the living room, working from home. The distracting glances. Little flirtatious touches that turned into more as we both said we should be working.

  I had to admit, that had been more of what I'd envisioned when we'd moved in together. I'd thought, with us being partners at Club Privé, we'd spend weekends and evenings working together here, cuddled together while we shared a laptop. Maybe separate laptops, but sitting next to each other, involved in the other's work.

  “Dammit.” I raked my hand through my hair. I had to get out of the house and I needed to convince Vincent to postpone the trip to France.

  My driver was waiting by the time I got downstairs. Carrie and I alternated using cabs and a private car service, but right now, I didn't feel like flagging someone down or having to deal with someone who might be chatty. Despite the business opportunity of a lifetime, I wasn't in the best of moods.

  When I arrived at Club Privé, the construction crew was hard at work. That was good. I'd never worked with these guys before and I hadn't been sure what to expect. After the whole thing with Howard, I'd ended contracts with every company he'd personally hired. Most of them had probably been clean, but I refused to take a risk that I was working with anyone who'd contributed to Howard's “other” business.

  I nodded at the foreman as I passed on my way to the elevator. The soundproofing on the second floor muffled the noise from downstairs as soon as I stepped into the hall. My office would take care of the rest. All of the rooms up here had been given the best soundproofing available. Two people could stand on either side of the door and scream at the top of their lungs and would never hear each other.

  As I swiped my access card, I found myself glancing toward the end of the hall. The door there led to a r
oom I hadn't been in for nearly a year. Carrie had suggested we keep it and had teased that she and I could use it for me to introduce her to more of the BDSM lifestyle I enjoyed. Instead, the door had remained closed. I'd only been in there once since the police had cleared it as a crime scene, and that had been to let in the cleaning crew.

  Part of me never wanted to step foot in there again. My memories of the place were torn. On one hand, it had been the first place Carrie and I had ever had sex, an encounter that had shaken me to the core. I'd known right then that she was the one, even if I hadn't wanted to admit it at the time. On the other hand, however, it was also where Howard had assaulted and nearly raped Carrie before trying to kill us both.

  I entered my office and closed the door behind me, shutting out the rest of the world. Not for the first time, I wondered if I should've just sold the whole building and started over from scratch. A new place, one without memories. A new start.

  I sat at my desk and tried to focus. France could be my way of seeing if that'd be possible. If I could design another amazing club, I could prove to myself that I could do it again here.

  Before I could start sketching out any ideas, a buzzing sound told me I had a visitor. My heart thudded at the thought of it being Carrie coming to see me, but when the door opened, it was Daniel, my foreman.

  “Mr. Manning,” he said as he stood at the edge of my office. He was a large man, solidly muscled, the kind of guy I'd look for to run security.

  “I told you before, Daniel, you can call me Gavin.” I smiled even though I wasn't really feeling it. I didn't have anything against Daniel, but I wanted to be alone right now. “Now, what can I do for you?”

  “The construction's taking longer than anticipated.” He got straight to the point. “We've run into some shoddy workmanship when we got down to the bones.”