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Tristan began thrusting up in me more, pulling my body against him. I moaned his name, and I shut my eyes for a moment.

“So close baby, so fucking close.”

Tristan’s voice was a low rumble against my neck. “Open your eyes. I can see him too. Rich businessman. Could be the English Dave. Let him watch what I’m doing to you. What he can’t.”

Oh that’s it. I got it. But I didn’t care anymore.

And he continued, his slow sweet fucking, his long fingers teasing my clit and the base of his cock, and we were just in time and I was gasping. The man was turned towards me, the traffic moving slowly enough that the cars stayed together. He looked guilty but he wasn’t looking away, either.

Then there was Tristan’s deep drawl in my ear again, dripping into me. “I’m going to come baby, I want to hear you, hear you fucking scream my name.”

He was moving me up and down with more fury, each word he spoke punctuated with the effort he was making not to come, his breathing coming in hard. “Let him watch. He can’t do this to you. But I can. Let him see you.” With that he buried himself in me so deep it nearly hurt and he cried out with me and I knew he was nearly there. I started to close my eyes and let go, breathing into him.

“Keep your fucking eyes open now.” His voice nothing but dark commands, his cock filling me in waves, “do it, now.”

And I could feel him take me under, his fingers on me, slick and hot, his cock burning in me and the stranger, his eyes on me. I let all my fears fly off and focused on making everything I was feeling show through my face, knowing Tristan was watching me too. I felt like I was losing my mind. Too intense. “Baby, I’m coming, help me, help.”

“Yes, darling, yes, that’s it…keep your eyes open fuck feel that oh god yes, fuck, at last,” and he gasped, his voice strained and breathless as he pushed himself into me. I could see the eyes of the man in the car widen as though he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. But I knew he was excited, the fascination on his face evident.

Suddenly, pleasing two men, it felt so easy to be crazy. No holding back. No quiet. No restraint. His body, in me, now. I cried out for him, knowing what he liked. And I found I couldn’t hold it in anymore. “Tristan, don’t stop, please, fuck me, please.” Moaning, out of control. He was getting harder, burning up inside me.

His voice was raw and loud, so loud. “That’s it, take it, show him…show him…you’re mine…mine, so fucking good.” And suddenly he stopped, clutching me to him, then he was thrusting into me, calling out my name, his endless aftershocks coming in waves, making me come, again, again. The suited man couldn’t turn away, watching me riding Tristan’s wildness, pouring into me. My body pushed against him, out of control, writhing like a pulse, until finally exhausted, I fell back against his chest. I could feel the sweat on my back, on his legs, superheated against me. My chest rose and fell as I tried to catch my breath. Fuck.

I started to close my eyes and lean into him, but he suddenly leaned me forward, and sat up.

“You can rest in a minute,” he said, kissing me, “just one more thing to do.” I watched as he opened the window another inch and stuck his head out partway, so the man in the suit could see clearly who I had been sitting on. Tristan stuck his hand out the window and gave the man in the BMW a thumbs up. Mr. Expensive Suit’s mouth dropped open, shocked. Tristan started laughing, and shut the window, shutting him and the rest of the world out.

I didn’t know what to think. But my body did, wet and sticky and rocking gently with his laughter. Oh yeah.

Tristan was still giggling. “Sweetheart, you are so perfect. Fuck, you gave him an image hell won’t burn away. He’s going to have your face on his mind for months to come. Years. How does that feel? Good? Weird?” And he pulled me down to his shoulder and kissed me. “You felt weird, didn’t you? But you’ve fucked me senseless, again, and given your audience a performance that we’ll all remember.” He kissed me again. “And come like a banshee yourself, darling.”

His eyes were bright again. He closed them, a satisfied smile on his lips, and pulled me tight to his chest.

“Now you understand what it’s like to be a star. What you need to do. Don’t forget it. Your biggest lesson so far.”

I leaned against him, confused, but feeling so good, but so tripped out. But I thought I knew what he meant. That power, electric. Displayed, open, focused. Amazing. There was really nothing else I could say about it. Not yet.

He kissed my head and his arms went around me, warm and strong. “And you’re mine, darling. Don’t forget that either.”

Chapter 5

The car continued its way through the traffic. I was barely aware of the movement, or the passage of time, lying against his smooth skin, both of us breathing in time, the sweat gently cooling on our bodies, so close. If I could just lie like this forever, if there was going to be just one moment to hold on to, this was it. It was strange, how such a random, unexpected thing like what we’d just done felt as though we had created this durable bond between us, tender and strange, human and fragile. Would it be enough to sustain us, to sustain me anyway, over the next few days, which were bound to be difficult? Tough to say. I sighed.

He kissed my head, where it was nestled against his shoulder. His voice, soft and slow, broke the silence. “We’ve got to move, darling. Here, let me lift you up.” And he helped me roll off him. I sat on the seat, and watched him strip off the condom. I still felt shaky, filled with the mystery of how such small things could be so important. Touch, windows, even little packets. Then I thought about how I’d like to feel him come in me, and I smiled as the idea took shape in my mind, crossing from one side to the other.

“You’ve got that look again. Your secret face.” He looked happy, his eyes tired but content, focused on me. I could have him look at me like that forever, I thought. And we stayed like that for a minute, not speaking, just watching the other, no longer wary, but as though something had finally been resolved.

He closed his eyes, and held out his arms. “One more cuddle, and then we’ve got to face the world. Ok?” And he held me close again. He was warm, and solid, and he was giving me his strength, making me feel able to do everything I needed to. Placing his smile, his clever and intense gaze, inside me, like an energy field. Like a reaction—I couldn’t help it—and filled with a sudden burst, like a bubble inside me, I looked up at him, nestled his sweet face in my hands, and kissed him, gently, slowly. I couldn’t say it. Not yet, maybe not ever. But I wanted him to understand.

When I pulled back to look at him, his eyes were bright and shiny, sparkling. “Yes,” he whispered. “Little words.”

A long moment passed, his eyes locked with mine. But finally, he turned away and leaned over for his underwear. “Come on darling, we’ve got to get dressed.” We busied ourselves for a few minutes, putting, or trying to put everything back on, so it didn’t look too much like we’d just been naked in the back of a moving car. I entertained myself watching him peel his jeans back on, so tight, he almost had to put them on like stockings.

He looked over at me, amused. “There’s a method to this, you know. Years of practice. Not sure I should let you watch. Trade secret.” I snorted, and we both started giggling.

“Poser.”

“Fan girl.”

“Satyr.”

“Nice vocabulary. But I know that word too. Stop it, or I’ll have to fuck you again.” And he winked at me.

When we were finally dressed, and had made sure the back was cleaned up, Tristan buzzed the driver. “We can head to the hotel, now, thanks.” There was a mumble, and he switched the communicator off.

He reached for my hand. “Lily—look at me.” His eyes were dark and serious now, and I felt my heart spike again. My name in his mouth. I hoped it meant something good. My thoughts were racing. Had he said it before? He must have. “No, really, stop thinking.” His words got through to me, and I looked into his eyes. I was trying to analyze what his look meant. “No, stop. Listen. Really.” He started stroking my hand. “Don’t talk. Let me just say this.”

I nodded, terrified. I had no idea what was coming next. His face was giving nothing away.

“I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

My heart rushed into my mouth. “What? Why are you sorry? For what?”

His mouth was a thin line. “Listen. Just listen. I don’t apologize that often or that well, so give me a chance.” He continued stroking my hand. “What I mean to say, is, everything I said about us not knowing each other…” He turned towards the window, and opened it a tiny bit, letting in some fresh air. “That was crass. And uncalled for. And stupid. You’re not like, well…, how can I...” He stopped again. “You’re going to meet some people from my past, and maybe, well, maybe you’ll see some things you won’t like.”

He sat back and opened the window another inch, and turned towards it, as though he were clearing his head. We were on the Cromwell Road now, headed into Central London. But any residual excitement I felt about being back here, seeing the grimy buildings, the London smell coming through the window, was discarded, at the back of my mind.

I made him look at me. “Tristan. Just say it. I understand. I think, anyway. You’re just trying to warn me. Right?”

He blew out a long breath. “No, well, yes, not exactly. I don’t know what some of these people are going to say. At a chance to get into print, and spin it into some boost to their non-existent careers, some of them might say anything. But I figure you know that.” I nodded. “But us.” He ran his fingers through his messy hair. “You’re a professional. You want to do a good job. I want you to do a good job. But…if people think we are together—ah, shit. I don’t know.”

He shook his head. “I don’t know what is better or worse. I just want to protect you, and I’m not sure if that’s better done at a distance, or close up, right?” He looked frustrated. “Look, let’s play it by ear. How’s this? You’ve got my number. You need me, for anything, call me. If someone says something you don’t like, then call me. We’ll work this out. And for the world at large, at the moment, we’re friends. Good friends. And if I need to put up some warning flags and make it clear we’re more than that, I will. Ok?”

I didn’t know what to say. I nodded. Protecting me. Letting people know. But I was starting to feel as though I was entering a viper’s nest. I looked at him, his face was dark and serious, slightly unhappy. I needed to process all this. None of it was bad, just...surprising? “Tristan, I’m…I don’t know what to say. Thank you?” I raised my hand and ran my fingers over his face. “I want to trust you. Oh hell, I do trust you.” I took my hand back and touched it to my own face, I didn’t know why. “Ok, let’s play this game. Ok? I’ll call. If something comes up. Promise. And let you decide how to handle this. Just,” I thought about what we were saying did not cover what I felt, “please just let me know what’s going on? Ok? How you’re feeling. And I will call.”

He looked relieved. “I’m glad you trust me.” His mouth went up at the corner, a teasing half smile. “About time. And I’ll see you on Saturday at the show, anyway. Up front please, with the rest of the media hacks, so I can see you.” He smirked. “And the party.”

“And the party.” I echoed him.

“You know London well.”

“I do.”

“So we can get the hell out of there, if we need to.” His grin was back. It was infectious.

“I think we can do that. Maybe bring a hat.”

“And a mask for my face?” He laughed again.

I had a thought. “What about your manager? He hates me.”

Tristan shrugged. “He hates everyone he thinks might be a threat to his bank balance.”

“That’s a harsh thing to say.”

“It’s a true thing to say. I’m watching him, don’t worry.”

“Good, Dave was concerned.” I knew instantly it was the wrong thing to come up with, but it was too late.

His voice was dripping sarcasm. “How thoughtful. Well let’s try to sell him some more magazines, shall we, so he can keep the lifestyle.” I winced. “I think I’ve got it covered, thanks.”

I was quiet. “Ok. Ok, fine.”

He sighed. “No, doll, I’m sorry. Let’s not fight.” I stared at him. He took my hand. I looked out the window. We were driving down a small street, nearly to my hotel.

“No, please, please—no fighting.” I didn’t mean for my voice to come out that way, plaintive, needy, but it did. His eyes widened. And he pulled me to him again, and I curled up against him, breathing in the warmth and scent of him, in the dark cocoon of the car. He rubbed his nose against my hair, nuzzling me, whispering softly.

The car stopped. We could hear the driver open his door. The bubble was broken.

“All right, showtime, darling. I’m just going to drop you off, not get out. But that’s the world we live in, not you.” He took my hands in his. “Look, we’re a united front this weekend, don’t forget. If you need me, call me.” The mischievous look returned to his face. “Consider it a command.” He winked at me.