Epilogue
Cal
Two Months Later
Cal caught the duffel bag easily and tossed it to the ground. He held up his hands to signal he was ready for more, and Tamsin leaned out of her window with her dance tote and dropped it down. That, plus a weekender bag and a pillow, and all of Tamsin’s worldly possessions were ready to be packed away in Cal’s car. He’d wanted nothing but this as early as eight weeks ago, the first weekend they’d met, but had respected her wish to stay until her successful audition with the American Ballet Theatre.
But finally, finally she was leaving, and instead of leaving on the train tomorrow like her father thought she was, she was sneaking out tonight with Cal. And he had one final surprise for her…if she wanted it.
Cal put her things in his car and came back to the window.
“Why don’t you come up here?” she asked in a low voice. “One last time?”
He wordlessly started climbing the tree; he knew the way into Tamsin’s room by heart now. Since their weekend at Persepolis, Cal had advised all the girls to stay in more often—Mistress Hell would protect them as much as she could, but a little caution would go a long way with a man like Purkiss. And they had cajoled and wheedled and touched him with butterfly hands to beg, and somehow he’d ended up agreeing to visit them on the nights they stayed in. They were insatiable, demanding, creative, and sweet, and after eight weeks of servicing all them, he understood Mistress Hell’s fascination with the dancers. They were like gifts from the gods of fucking, come to earth.
And Tamsin…Tamsin most of all.
Cal had assumed what happened that first weekend had been some kind of adventure for them, an experiment of sorts, and that even if there’d been no lasting harm done to Tamsin’s feelings, that it wouldn’t happen again. He was used to women who didn’t like to share after all, and he figured if a wife couldn’t share her husband with war, then this young girl couldn’t be expected to share him with eleven of her friends.
He’d deeply underestimated Tamsin. Tamsin and her obsessive craving for the wrong and the taboo in life. She loved nothing more than all of them playing together, she loved choreographing their orgies, debasing him and herself and everyone around them in delightful, ecstatic ways, and she came the hardest when she was the last one to fuck him. When she had him sweaty and raw and at the edge of his control. That’s how she liked him best.
Tonight wasn’t going to be elaborate or choreographed however. After he climbed up the tree and through the window, Tamsin nearly tackled him and pulled him to her pillow-less bed.
“I want it one last time here,” she breathed, hands on his zipper. She was in a tiny little nightgown and leg warmers and—Jesus—no panties. He ran his hands up her thighs, playing with the place where the leg warmers met bare skin.
“Just you and me,” he said, in a voice that brooked no argument. He loved fooling around with her friends—what red-blooded human wouldn’t?—but right now, with his surprise burning a hole in his back pocket, he only wanted her. He’d play whatever dirty games she wanted, but at the end of the day, it was Tamsin who had his heart. Tamsin he’d move heaven and earth just to be near.
And he damn well had.
“Yes,” she agreed, “just us.” Her warm hands found his stiffening cock and pulled it out, rubbing it up and down. “Can’t we do it without the condom?” she begged. “Just this once?”
“No,” he said, even though it felt like yes was the only word he could remember.
“Mmm,” she pouted, flipping up the hem of her nightgown to show off her pussy. She started rubbing the tip of him against her, getting it wet, slotting it inside her entrance and circling her hips and driving him mad.
“Just for a minute won’t hurt,” she said, batting her long, gold eyelashes up at him. “Just for a minute inside.”
His arms were shaking where he held himself above her. “Just for a minute,” he repeated. “No longer.”
Her eyes lit up. “Really?”
“Shh.” He put a hand over her mouth, because he wasn’t sure he could do this without coming immediately, and he especially wouldn’t be able to do it with Tamsin breathing naughty things in his ear. He closed his eyes and pushed inside.
There weren’t words for how good her pussy felt. Wet and hot, tight like a fist. Every nerve ending in his penis felt electrified, every sensation was magnified, every inch farther was like a new revelation from God. She moaned under his hand as he stretched and filled her, and once he sunk in to the hilt, he carefully lowered himself onto her, chest to chest, letting his hand fall away from her mouth so he could kiss her. And kiss her and kiss her.
He couldn’t wait to tell her, he decided. He wanted to tell her now, like this, when there was nothing separating them, no barrier, no distance, just the warm glide of them and their hearts beating so close.
“I’m moving to New York City,” he whispered against her mouth. “I got a place.”
Her lips parted underneath his, her hand reaching towards his face. “Really?” she asked, and her voice sounded so young then, so full of a hope and happiness that she hadn’t yet learned how to hide.
“Really. I’ve got a key for you in my back pocket. It can be your place too, if you want.”
“Yes,” she breathed. “I want that. I’ve been so miserable thinking we wouldn’t see each other as much as we wanted…”
“Remember what I said that night at Persepolis? With me. I want you with me, Tamsin, as long as you’ll let me close.”
“Yes,” she said, kissing the corners of his mouth, his jaw. “I want to be with you always.”
The words made him want to slump in relieved joy. “I like that you feel that way,” he said gruffly, trying not to bother her with how much he felt. He still wanted her to be able to change her mind, leave him if she got unhappy or realized how old he was or met some other dancer that could better meet her needs. He didn’t want to cage her, not his little music box girl, not when she was finally getting free.
Tamsin seemed to have other ideas. “Oh, you bear,” she laughed. “I love you. And I know you love me. There’s no need to be so stoic.”
I love you.
“Tamsin,” he groaned, burying his face into her neck. “I do love you. I love you too much, I think, than is good for you.”
“There’s no such thing as too much for me,” she purred, biting his earlobe. “I think we’ve already proved that many times over.”
With a low growl, he pulled out and reached for his wallet, rolling a condom on amid Tamsin’s mewling protests. And then he grabbed the headboard with one hand, using his other to guide himself back inside her. With her heels at the small of his back, he thrust inside, deep and hard, wrapping both hands around the edge of the headboard now to drive in harder and harder and harder.
Soon they’d be in his car together, driving off to their new life. Soon she’d be in his bed every night that she wanted to be there. Soon they would see how far love could carry them as she danced and he worked and they had to fight off every problem that came with being in the real world.
But for now, he was happy to pretend he was still in fairyland, still inside the dream. And when Tamsin came and he came a moment later, filling his condom with heavy jerks and pulses, he murmured promises in her ear until they were both sweaty and still. I love you and you’re with me and I’ll take care of you, princess, always, always, always.
His promises were real, vows weighted with age and experience, and Tamsin seemed to wrap herself up in them like she wrapped herself up in his arms. “And we are going to live happily ever after,” she murmured to him.
He smiled in the dark. “Ruined shoes and all.”
* * *