Chapter 39

Dana woke, conscious of a warm, hard body beside her. Her head was pillowed on an unforgiving chest and one arm was wrapped around her waist with the strength of an iron band. The other ran underneath her shoulder to curl around her backside, where long, talented fingers were toying with her pussy, sliding between wet labia to play with her clit, then back again. One finger penetrated her just enough to tease, then slid further back to spread her moisture along her slit, all the way back to her anus.
Beau. As soon as she recognized the scent of the man beside her, beneath her cheek, her body responded even further, softening and dampening, her pelvis tipping to allow him easier access.
"Awake, cherie?" A teasing note tinged his low, bass rumble.
"I am now." She slid the flat of her hand down along his sculpted chest and abdomen, finding him hard and ready again. Her pussy clenched tightly in response.
"What shall we do about that, umm?" His warm breath tickled her ear, sending a delicious shiver down her spine.
She arched into him, rubbing her nipples against his chest. "I'm sure you can think of something."
He flicked his tongue around her ear, while his hand continued to tease her wet slit. He scooped up some of her cream and spread it back toward her anus, using it as lube. When one thick digit penetrated her puckered hole, she moaned with the intensity of the stinging pleasure and nipped at his chest. "More."
"As you wish." He dabbled another finger in her wetness, then added it to the one in her ass. Dana's spine bowed as her sphincter stretched to accommodate him. She wanted more, wanted him to take her there fully but she didn't want him to stop that gentle thrust and retreat he was doing with his hand - especially when his other slid up from her waist to cup her breast, rasping the nipple with his callused thumb.
Fair was fair. She wasn't about to be the only one getting off in this bed. She wrapped her hand around his swollen cock and began to pump his shaft in time with his fingers fucking her ass.
"Cherie," he moaned, then, impossibly, he added a third finger, causing Dana to squeal like a teenager at a pop concert. "Harder, mon coeur. Harder."
Dana obliged, tightening her grip to the point where she'd have damaged a normal human. It was such a liberating experience not to have to constantly check her strength.
He growled a string of French that was too fast for her to comprehend, or maybe the words weren't ones you learned in school. His fingers pounded her harder, stretching her anus to just the point of pain.
It was almost enough for her to come but not quite. She tried to wriggle the arm she was lying on down so that she could reach her clit and the added movement drove his fingers even deeper. Reflexively, she squeezed even harder on his erection.
"Dana!" He called her name as ribbons of hot fluid spurted over his belly and chest, spattering her arm and her side, as well.
Desperate to follow him over the edge, she caught her swollen nub between two fingers, pinching as he jammed his hand in one last time. She was so close...
The phone beside the bed shrilled, making both of them jump. Beau pulled his hand back, leaving Dana hanging just seconds short of her own climax. He rolled away and sat up on the bed, picking up the phone with his other hand. "Âllo?"
There was a long silence, then a torrent of French. Finally, Beau dropped the receiver into its cradle and stood. "I have to go." After that abrupt statement, he stalked off into the bathroom and slammed the door.
Still trying to catch her breath, Dana flopped onto her back and stared up at the ceiling. Idly, she rubbed the sticky trails of semen into her skin. She considered finishing herself off but the mood had been broken. Lying there, she breathed in the scents of Beau and herself and sex. She'd known this was just a fling but it still stung that he'd left her so suddenly and right when she was hanging on the precipice.
She heard the shower start up, then shut off just a few minutes later. Almost immediately, the door to the bathroom opened and Beau emerged, naked and damp but utterly focused.
"The room is paid for until Monday morning," he said as he pulled on jeans and a sweater from a soft-sided suitcase.
"Care to tell me what's wrong?" Knowing why he was running out would have helped, though she could tell something awful was happening. The soft, sexy smile was gone, replaced by a hard scowl that could, indeed, have been carved from granite.
"I have to go," he reiterated. With ruthless efficiency, he threw his tuxedo and other belongings into the bag. "I'm sorry."
Slowly, Dana stood and gathered her clothing. A quick glance at the clock told her it was only three a.m. - a perfectly reasonable time to be driving home in an evening gown. She stepped into the bathroom for a quick wash while he finished packing, then emerged, dressed and as pulled together emotionally as she could manage.
When she sat on the bed to put on her shoes, he looked around the room and a flash of something almost like anguish passed through his green and brown streaked eyes.
"Let me know if there's anything I can do," she told him softly, trying not to either cry or snarl. Her confused emotions coiled in a sick lump in her stomach but she had enough pride to not show it.
Beau shook his head. "It's...a family matter," he said. He bit his lip, as if that had already been too much to tell her. "I've a cab coming to take me to the airport. Can I have the driver drop you at home, as well?"
At least he was trying to be a gentleman. "I have my car," she said. Standing, she picked up her purse and walked to the door. Beau was right behind her, suitcase in hand. "Goodnight, Beau."
Silence stood between them like a wall. Beau's lips were compressed in a fine line as they took the elevator down to the lobby, then parted ways. Dana tried not to look back over her shoulder as she handed the parking valet her slip. Perhaps, she told herself, he'd call, explain what horrible thing had called him home. He'd beg her forgiveness and ask her to come to Montreal for a visit.
She knew better, though. As she drove herself home through the darkness, she scratched absently at the small bite mark on her shoulder and faced the truth. Whatever magic had happened between them was over. More than likely, she'd never see Baudoin Dumont again.