Chapter 20: A Window With a Curtain

"I don't want you gone," I said.

"Claire."

"I want a window with a curtain, and I want it tonight."

For a moment he didn't move.

Then he took my hand and walked me to the elevator, and neither of us spoke until the car doors shut.

His apartment was on the top floor of the Rhodes tower.

It had a wall of glass on the east side, with heavy gray curtains pulled halfway across.

He did not turn on a light.

The city came in through the gap, and I could see all of him.

I put my bag on the floor and my back against the glass.

"Take your jacket off," I said.

He did.

"The shirt."

He undid the buttons slowly, and he did not look away from my face.

His chest was broader than his suits let on, with an old scar under the ribs and a line of dark hair that ran down.

I walked over and put my palms flat on his skin.

His heart was going hard.

"I read your whole life in a box," he said, roughly. "I didn't know you'd feel like this."

"What do I feel like?"

"Alive."

I kissed him then, with my fingers in his hair, and he lifted me clean off my feet.

I pulled my own dress over my head while he carried me.

He set me down on the edge of his bed and knelt, and took off my shoes and my underwear.

Then I said, "No. Get up."

He rose, confused.

I pushed him down to sit on the mattress, and I slid to my knees on the carpet between his legs.

"Claire," he said, hoarse.

"You went down on me once," I said. "I'd like a turn."

I undid his belt and took his cock out, hot and hard, already wet at the tip.

I held it at the root and licked it, one slow stroke from base to head.

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