Chapter Two
I whimpered and struggled slightly against the silk scarf that held my wrists to the headboard. I couldn't see anything, due to the matching silk scarf across my eyes.
I could feel David's breath hot against my neck, his lips kissing a trail down to my breasts.
I gasped as I felt fingertips sliding up the inside of my thigh, followed by the softest brush of Balthazar's lips.
Yes, I thought, this was everything I needed, everything I had ever wanted.
The shrieking alarm clock brought me back to the sudden painful reality. I was alone, still, in my bed. I sighed and rolled over, pressing my face into my pillow.
It's only been a week, I told myself, fighting back the lump in my throat, squeezing my eyes shut against the unshed tears…
~0~
Balthazar took another sip of his scotch and contemplated the glass in his hands. Closing his eyes he could still picture David, standing in his doorway, saying a choked farewell.
"Just for a month, I promise." David had murmured in his ear as they embraced. Balthazar watched as he stepped into the elevator, feeling like everything he had ever wanted was suddenly slipping away too quickly.
Coming back to the present he refilled his glass, forcing himself to not even picture her soft gray eyes and sweet pink lips. He'd be damned if he was going to let himself dwell on the image of her saying goodbye…
~0~
Finally tired of turning down another group of lovely French girls, David punched the elevator up button and waited. He knew he should be enjoying everything Paris had to offer, but hearing the constant chatter in French only made the empty ache in his soul deepen.
There was only one soft accented voice he craved, one set of deep blue eyes he wanted to be gazing into. The doors opened and he stumbled in, swiping at his eyes and blindly jabbing at what he hoped was his floor.
He made his way to his room, heading straight for the shower. He leaned against the tile and slid his hand down his torso, giving his now throbbing cock a rough squeeze.
He thought of Balthazar's mouth wrapped around him and groaned. He began stroking himself, imagining the feel of his gray-eyed beauty on top of him, remembering the feel of her breasts in his hands, of being buried so deep inside her, the memory of her being pinned between Balthazar and himself.
He came hard, gasping as his legs gave way and he slumped against the tile wall.
David sat there, feeling the water gradually lose its heat. He tried to get them both out of his thoughts, but failed miserably. He covered his face with his hands and sobbed.
~0~
David was interrupted from his daydream as the captain spoke over the intercom about the final approach into D.C. His nerves aflame, he tried counting, deep breathing, and meditation. Anything to get himself a little more calm.
The plane shook, and he groaned inwardly, feeling nauseous. Turbulence was not going to ease the butterflies in his stomach, and the storm outside the plane looked unforgiving and almost supernatural.
The plane lurched, and he gasped, watching as the stewardesses quickly began buckling themselves into their seats.
The last thing he saw was the lightning hitting the wing to his right, a bright flash, then darkness...