Endless Possibility: a RUSH novella (City Lights 3.5) (13 page)

I closed my eyes and smiled while the sun warmed my face, rising high and dispelling the night for good.

After the short train ride from Munich that morning, I made my way to my Salzburg hotel, shaved, took a shower, dressed. I ordered room service and at ate it leisurely, sipping the best coffee I’d ever tasted. I brushed my teeth, gathered my things, and headed out.

The GPS on the new phone Marit found for me in Amsterdam told me where I could buy a new suit. I was sick of the two I’d been wearing all summer. I wanted something new and sharp for Charlotte. Light gray with a vest, because I knew she liked vests on me. I let the saleswoman choose the tie. Plum purple, she said, and I thought Charlotte would like that too.

I had the suit sent to the hotel, and then continued strolling. Lunch was at a cozy little bistro, also a short walk away. The Salzburg’s downtown district was very small. The worry that I might bump into Charlotte flared up but then I remembered that was perfectly okay. If I didn’t find her today, then tonight.

I’m going to be with Charlotte tonight.

Before I headed over to her concert, I bought her flowers at a nearby boutique. A dozen red roses. The clerk put them in my hand and my not-unpleasant anxiety ratcheted up a notch. Every minute that passed brought me closer to her. The thought made my heart clang madly; anticipation shivered over my skin. In a fit of extreme wishful thinking—or maybe cautious foresight—I tucked a small handful of condoms into my jacket pocket at the last minute.

Hey, you never know.

Lucien called me while I was in the cab on the way to the concert venue.

“Noah, the most astounding news,” he said excitedly. “I wandered onto the Vienna Touring Orchestra’s webpage. Their show tonight features Mozart’s Violin Concerto No. 5. Our girl is going to be the soloist.”

A laugh gusted out of me; a bubble of happiness, bursting. “Should I tell her you said hello? I’m going to be with her tonight, Lucien. It’s done.”

“Oh, my dear boy. I’m so happy for you. And for her. And proud of you both.”

I cleared my throat, and tried to sound cavalier. “Yeah, well here’s hoping she doesn’t hate my guts.”

“It is not possible for Charlotte to hate. She hasn’t the capacity.”

That was true. My Charlotte was too full of love. But did she have any left for me? Or had the time apart altered her so that she wasn’t the same—that we weren’t the same together?

Had she waited for me?

At the Mozarteum Concert Hall, my seat was still in the back row, corner. I gave the usher a ten Euro note, the bouquet of roses, and instructions to give it to the soloist after the show.

I clenched the armrests of the chair until my knuckles ached. The program began and Charlotte took the stage; the crowd offered her polite applause. They didn’t know her, or what she was capable of. Until she began to play.

I listened to her sing with the violin I’d sold my Camaro to buy for her. Had I once thought that a sacrifice? Damn, but I’d give it again. I’d give more. Everything. Every breath. Every beat of my heart was for her.

And she gave everything to us, her enraptured audience. I could feel it—the sense of awe around me that said we were experiencing the beginning of something extraordinary.

When it ended, I got up from my seat with the vague idea to make my way down to her, but when I rose, the audience rose too. A thunderous ovation filled the hall and my heart clenched so hard, I laid my hand over it.

Soak it in, baby. This is all for you.

I had to let her have the moment. If she were angry or upset with me, my sudden appearance would only ruin it. I made my way up and out, to get some air and regroup. I would go back in once the crowds had gone, and find her.

I made my way outside. The night air was cool but not cold, and I was grateful for the breeze over my skin that felt like it was burning. I found a wall and leaned against it, and then I heard the voice I’d been dying to hear for the last six weeks.

“Noah!”

She was there. Right there. I could reach out my hand and touch her…

“Hey, babe.”

She gasped, and my heart stopped, waiting.

“I’m going to fly at you,” she cried.

“God, yes,” I breathed.

Her body collided with mine and I caught her up in my arms and lifted her off the ground, holding her so tightly, breathing her in. Oh Christ, my Charlotte. I had imagined this moment a thousand times but nothing could prepare me for what it felt like to hold her, or to listen to the gentle, aching cries of her as she held me.

She was just as beautiful as I’d remembered. Beautiful in my arms and under my hands, and in the fierce beating of her heart pressed to mine.

I loosened my hold on her enough to let her feet touch the ground and then kissed her eyes, her nose, her tear-streaked cheeks, inhaling her and tasting her, until our mouths met in a kiss that seeped into every part of me. I kissed her with everything that I had, thinking the pain of our separation and the hardship of my journey here would rush up to swamp me, but I felt nothing but sheer joy.

And love. Above all, love.

“God, baby,” I said brokenly against her cheek.

“I know,” she cried softly. “I know, I know…”

We remained there a long time. I held her, and she held me, until the concert audience let out, and parted around us, and we finally let the real world back in. And with it, the close proximity of our bodies awoke another need in us.

She took us to a hotel a block away. It felt small, smelled old. Historic. Much too historic for our purposes.

“You’ll have to pay,” Charlotte said at the front desk. “I have nothing. I jumped off the stage to find you before you disappeared again.”

“
You
jumped off the stage
?” I didn’t wait for an answer, but tossed my credit card onto the desk, and swept Charlotte into my arms again to kiss her hard, my tongue sweeping every corner of her mouth, wanting to taste all of her
right now.
I missed her to the depths of my soul, but my body had missed her too. Badly.

Up one flight of creaky stairs, a key in a door, and then all I knew was Charlotte. Her skin, her hair, her body pressed to me, the scent of her….all of it,
mine.

Her hands around my neck pulled me down to kiss her, and the second our mouths met, I literally stumbled at the lust and longing that swept through me. I groaned and kissed Charlotte so hard I feared I’d cut her with my teeth, but she was just as rough. I felt the want in her even before her hands tore at my belt.

“Wait, wait,” I breathed. “When I tell you where I’ve been, what I’ve been doing, you might not like it,” I said, slipping the words out between kisses. My god, she smelled so good, tasted so good. “You may be angry. You may hate me.”

“Did you murder someone?” she asked, pushing my jacket off my shoulders.

“No,” I breathed and kissed her again, groaning because, Jesus, her hands felt like they were everywhere.

She tore at my vest; buttons popped and clattered to the floor. “Did you cheat on me?”

She was being playful, but the mere thought of it punched me in the gut like a fist. “Fuck no.”

“Then I’ll take my chances.”

She pulled me close again, and I could feel her smile on my lips before we kissed again, ravishing each other’s mouths.

“Do you want to go slow?” I asked. My thoughts were breaking apart into nonsense under the onslaught of her touch, but I had to make sure this felt right and good for her. “Charlotte…I love you. I love you but I want you. Hard. Tell me this is okay.”

“I want you too. I’ve
needed
you…so badly,” she breathed. “It’s okay. It’s more than okay.” She jerked to a sudden stop with a little cry. “But oh…god, we have nothing…”

“Left jacket pocket,” I said.

“You’re kidding,” she laughed, breathlessly,
relieved.

“What can I say? I’m a fucking boy scout.”

She left me to dig out a condom from my jacket and then we took up right where we’d left off—a flurry of hard, aching kisses and touches against the wall of that little hotel.

Christ, I still couldn’t believe this was real. After so long, not just apart, but suffering for want of her. She strained to meet my mouth with hers so she could kiss me the way only Charlotte could kiss me. I felt her hot little gust of breath first, so sweet, and then her open mouth brushed mine, her tongue flicking and then retreating. I grabbed her hips and thrust her close to me, craning down for more, but she moved back, just out of reach, and then I felt her teeth capture my lower lip. She sucked it, ran the tip of her tongue along it, then let go.

That kiss. I lost my damned mind with that kiss.

I wanted to tear the dress off of her, but she had nothing else to wear. I hauled it up over her hips instead, and wrapped an arm around her waist underneath. She was wearing a thong; I could feel the bare flesh under my hand and groaned. I felt for the delicate piece of material at her hip and tore it apart.

“
Yes,
” Charlotte breathed against my neck, rolling the condom down. “Please, Noah…”

I lifted her legs and she wrapped them around my hips. “Tightly, baby.”

Her legs squeezed, holding on, holding her up, drawing me to her. Her nails dug into my skin at the back of my neck. Her mouth was as hot and soft and wet as her body as I slid inside her.

My girl. My love. My Charlotte.

We rocked against each other so that I thought the little old hotel might come crashing down around our ears, but even more than the ecstasy of lust, the love I had for her spurred me. It drove me deep inside her, to make her mine—not as a possession, but as a completion of me.

My life. She is my life.

“Noah,” she breathed, then screamed, clinging to me as if she’d never let me go.

Never do. Never let me go…

Thoughts scattered, leaving nothing but sensation. In my dark world, there was softness, heat, broken cries and gasps, and her skin, her hands, her mouth, and the sweet tightness of her body, and the pleasure and love that bound us together, all of it rising to a crescendo and then melting into something gentle and deep.

We satiated that first raging hunger to be together again, and I lowered her feet to the floor. Our biting touches dissolved into sweet, deep kisses; a mellowing of the passion into something long and slow and languid. I kissed her so thoroughly and so tenderly, I forgot to breathe. I had my Charlotte back, and at that moment, I needed nothing else in the world. Not one damn thing.

My hand sought her cheek and brushed away the stray locks of her hair that had fallen loose from some up-do. I felt chagrined now, at the roughness of what we’d done. I disposed of the condom, buckled my pants loosely and smoothed her dress down. She deserved to be cherished slowly but I felt her smile against my hand.

“You were…unbelievable tonight,” I whispered, and smiled. “At the concert I mean. Astounding.”

“I can’t believe you heard it. I can’t believe you’re here,” Charlotte said. Her hands slipped down to my chest, and to the buttons on my shirt, unbuttoning them one by one. She pushed the shirt from my shoulders and lifted the undershirt off to press her forehead to my bare chest. Her lips brushed my skin, over my heart, in a soft kiss.

“I’m so in love with you,” she sighed. “And I missed you.”

“I missed you. God, did I ever. And I’m so sorry. But I had to—”

She silenced me with another kiss, her mouth soft and wet on mine. “Not yet. Tell me everything, but not yet.”

My hands slipped down her back, to the zipper on her dress among the velvety folds. I slid it down and laid my mouth to the smooth skin of her shoulder while pulling the strap aside. The dress, loose now, fell away easily. I kissed her mouth, her chin, and bent to kiss her neck while my hands slid up and down the naked skin of her back. Her hair smelled of vanilla and lilac. Her breath, mint, and her own sweetness. Her tears tasted of salt, and I kissed them, licked them off my lips before kissing her again.