The Piano Man Project Page 0,93

time to fake it to please the man she was with. Hal had her mind totally relaxed and her body as tightly wound as a spring, completely in the moment, and there was only one way it was ever going to go.

He smoothed her damp hair from her forehead, kissing her jaw, her ear, her mouth. His words, his hands, his body, his mouth. Honey let them all move over her, let him pull her under, push her further than she’d ever been. Her blood raced in her veins, pounded in her head, and there was nothing but him, and here, and the intense, spiralling tension he’d created between her legs. Even when she could feel her tears dampen the blindfold it didn’t stop, like a tightening screw, every thrust of Hal’s denim-clad hips against his hand ratcheting her closer, and closer, and closer, and then he opened her knees wider and moaned deep in his throat, the sexiest sound she’d ever heard, and she couldn’t hold on anymore. She took a running jump right off the edge of that cliff path holding tightly on to Hal for safe harbour, free falling, and utterly, utterly dazzled.

‘Easy as that, Honey,’ he whispered, barely there kisses as her breathing came in almost painful gasps.

Benedict Hallam had set the bar high. It was the kind of climax that could give a girl unrealistic expectations for the rest of her born days.

‘Oh my God,’ she said, still trembling as she pushed his tie from her eyes a couple of minutes later. ‘Oh my bloody God.’

‘Fucking hell,’ he probably said; she couldn’t be certain. He wrapped her close in his arms, holding her to his bare chest, stroking her hair while her breathing steadied.

‘I never knew,’ she whispered.

‘And now you do.’

‘Even if it never happens to me again, I’ll always know.’

‘It’ll happen to you again, Honey. Trust me, it’ll happen again.’

‘I’m going to do something for you now that I’ve never done for you before,’ Honey said a little later, still curled against the warmth of Hal’s chest.

He traced lazy fingertip circles on the back of her shoulder.

‘Does it involve my cock and your mouth?’

Honey laughed and shook her head.

‘Nope. I’m going to make you a cup of tea.’

‘You sure know how to look after a man,’ he said, and Honey could feel his smile against her hair.

‘Never let it be said that I don’t have good manners. You gave me an orgasm, I’ll give you tea. How’d you like it?’

‘Is on your knees out of the question?’

‘Sugar?’ she asked sweetly, extracting herself from his arms.

‘Two,’ he grumbled, pulling himself up to sit, his denim-clad legs thrown out in front of him. He was a sparely built man, long and lithe, the kind of guy who could eat Ben & Jerry’s out of ice cream and still fit the same jeans he’d worn at twenty-one.

Knotting her robe around her waist, she busied herself making tea, her mind back on the sofa with Hal. He’d made it so easy, just brushed aside her hang-ups with his easy touch and his gentle mouth. Ordinarily he was just about the toughest man she’d ever known, and paradoxically, he’d turned out to be the most considerate lover. He’d held himself back tonight and made it all about her, despite the fact that it was his own birthday. That was the thing with Hal. He rarely played by conventional rules, and it made him addictive company. Maybe that was why she’d sought him out as a confidant so many times, sitting on the floor outside his door and pouring out her heart even though he barely acknowledged her presence.

Honey crossed the kitchen to grab the milk from the fridge, and her eyes fell on the envelope that had arrived a few days ago for Hal. Addressed to Mr Benedict Hallam in bold black pen, it definitely looked like personal mail rather than the bills that made up her own usual morning haul of letters. Surely it was a birthday card? The green glow of the oven clock informed Honey that there was still an hour or so left of Hal’s birthday. She stuck the envelope on a tray with the cups and a packet of chocolate digestives and headed back through to the lounge.

‘A letter came for you,’ Honey said, and she felt the temperature in the room plummet from afterglow warm to snowstorm cold. Good job Hal had slid his jeans back on while she made the tea or