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Applause swelled and died off when someone opened the conference hall door and let it swing shut, leaving the crowd inside. Pryce had done the same thing twenty minutes ago. He’d gone into the bar and gotten a glass of bourbon, then opted to sit at the far end of the lobby close to the bar. Now the sudden noise pulled his attention from the twin, revolving doors where snow had begun to fall faster and thicker out beyond the glass.He turned to see a pair of slender shins scissoring their way in his direction. They were smooth and almost shining, a vaguely burnt cinnamon tone. He followed the lines up from her ankles to where the hem of a white, floral print dress fell cautiously shy of her knees. Her head was cast down like she was walking a tightrope, following the fall of each foot across the burnished marble floor.Dark hair fell around her like a veil, obscuring most of her face. A wave of recognition passed through his body. He knew her. He couldn’t remember from where. Not now. Not quickly. Not with her bare legs stalking toward him like a pair of saplings bending to the kind of hard wind that was taking the snow in on a forty-five-degree angle. But he knew her. Between the dress and her skin, he was reminded of summer. His body filled with half-voluntary breath. There might as well have been a ghost in his chair as she passed, never looking up or so much as slightly to the side where he was sitting.Then she turned sharply into the relative darkness of the open doorway to the bar and Pryce kept watching. Her calves were slender yet strong and sinuous. Her bowed head and shoulders gave her a deflated look, like someone who’d just heard something they didn’t want to. That’s when he knew it was Sheyla.It had to have been fifteen years, and now he understood that vague remembrance of summer. She’d barely known him then. Just enough to know he was alive, enough to slip into his dreams and pull him into a vortex of yearning, but not enough to come close. Always sweet and friendly the few times she’d spoken to him. There should have been more, but she’d left him chronically tongue-tied the way no one ever had before or since.He lifted his whiskey glass and pulled down hard on what remained, creating an excuse to follow her into the bar and order another. At the very least, he could tell her how he’d felt all those years ago.***She drank her first vodka cranberry too fast and stood a little lost for a moment before finding the voice to order another. Everything seemed surreal, a little dreamlike, almost as though it wasn’t really happening.She took her second drink, the glass cold in her clammy hand, and walked to the end of the bar as far away from the bartender as possible. The room was practically deserted. She wasn’t sure if she’d have preferred it to have been more crowded; maybe that way she wouldn’t have to listen to her own inescapable thoughts.Thoughts. Like the jarring realisation that her husband and PA had been sleeping together. It seemed inconceivable that Dean and Rae could have betrayed her so callously, yet the evidence she’d just seen was inescapably stark. Back in the conference hall, she’d happened to glance down as Rae had been scrolling through her phone. The anatomical image from Dean had dropped in without warning, the caption simply stating ‘miss you’. It was the kind of picture he should only ever have been sending to his wife but instead, it was in her assistant’s phone, and everything blurred into a horrifying mess.The evening was supposed to be the most important of her career but one moment had transformed it into a nightmare. Dean had even called before the ceremony, going on about how he wished he could have made it but of course he was busy. Always so busy. But not too busy to cheat on her with her own goddamn assistant.She found herself suddenly trying to piece together times he could have been seeing Rae and unsurprisingly everything was fitting together too easily, their excuses synchronising and coordinating so seamlessly that she felt astoundingly stupid for never having noticed enough to ask questions.Taking a long, cooling sip from her glass, she tried to stop overthinking. She considered returning to the hall if only to distract herself but the thought of sitting beside Rae seemed impossible. She felt eyes on her and glanced up, hoping desperately that her soon-to-be-ex assistant hadn’t come looking for her.***Pryce walked over to the far corner bahis siteleri of the bar where she was. He felt her eyes on him as he signalled the bartender. When he turned to face her he realized he’d come to find her after all this time in the middle of the kind of moment that turns your heart black. It was right there in her pain-struck eyes. But whatever she’d been through, he wasn’t going to let the same paralysis overtake him like it had when he was younger. The look on her face made him want to tread lightly. If only he knew how.Dark-haired, glittering Sheyla, the girl who’d rearranged his life back before his life had ever been arranged in the first place. Those eyes. The hair that shimmered and sucked the darkness out of the night all at the same time. After fifteen years, it wasn’t hard to see the same features shining through.“Sheyla,” he said. “You probably don’t even remember me. I can tell this might not be a convenient time… but when the fuck is time ever on our side?”A half smile curled her lips and she nodded. “What’s time but the ass-fuck of the century,” she said, raising her glass.Pryce clanked her glass with his. “Do you remember my name?”She shook her head. She looked at him curiously and thought a moment. “I’m sorry. I know I probably should, but…”She seemed to run out of gas. It was understandable considering the state she was in. “Look, Sheyla. There’s no reason you should even remember me. And you never would have known how fucking voraciously I fell in love with you and couldn’t so much as look you in the eye. Did you ever think you’d come to a night like this to find out how much you changed someone’s life and never knew?”She looked at him with dark liquid eyes. There was a train derailing somewhere in her life, but for Pryce, this was the moment and the only moment he would ever have. Something may have softened in her eyes and the end of the fucking world was coming down with that insidious snow just outside.He leaned slightly and touched the inside of her leg just above her knee. Not even the wedding ring on her finger could stop him. This was too important. If she wanted to reject him that was her choice. At least she’d finally know.“Geezus fuck if you aren’t made of silk,” he said. Her eyes were as wide as his soul so he slid his hand higher. Living silk. Pure warmth until his fingers came up against the lacy gusset of her panties.“You can push me away if you want,” he told her. “But I’m not leaving this gilded shithole without letting you know. If you only knew how many times I’ve dreamed of this.”“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes.”“I wanted you like air,” he nearly hissed, whispering close to her ear, inhaling the scent of her neck. “I want you even more now. There’s something different about you. Something…I don’t know. New. Something more.”His fingers slipped under her panties, finding her slit smooth and almost burning. He scanned the room – bartender, a couple of desultory patrons marking time in Purgatory’s waiting room. She grew slick as he fingered her pussy lips. She felt waxed. Her eyes closed as her head fell backward and the years of his only regretted memory poured from his sputtering mouth, fingers shoving into her. One of her hands landed on his waist, as if she were grabbing onto him for balance. Her fingers dug into him, then suddenly brushed over the front of his body.Her hand glided over the hardness of his cock jutting into his pants. The tips of her fingers slipped over the shape through the fabric like she was reading Braille. His body filled with a sharp breath and he dug his fingers deeper into her. Curling. Stroking. Grinding. Pulling and pushing within her honeyed sheath until she squeezed them with her shuddering core. He watched her knuckles turn white as she gripped the edge of the bar and fought to hold her composure.When it was over, she smiled at him and reached down to pull his hand out of her panties by his wrist.“It’s…amazing to see you again,” she told him, slightly out of breath. “I hate to do this, but I have to get back to the conference.”Without saying why, she took a deep breath and power-walked out of the bar, leaving Pryce as dazed as if he’d been the one who’d just cum there at the dark end of the bar. It was his turn for a deep breath. It felt like an ancient business had finally gotten off to the start it was always meant for.As he reached for his drink, he found her conference ID badge still canlı bahis siteleri sitting on the bar. The least he could do was return it, and hopefully make an excuse for them to spend more time together before they left town and headed back to their separate worlds. The back of his neck went hot when he saw the name on her badge. It wasn’t Sheyla. It was Autumn Casey, a woman he’d never met in his life until now.***Autumn stood at the window of the neutrally decorated hotel room, her mind still racing with the evening’s events. Every part of her felt alive, vital, reckless, in a way she hadn’t felt in years, if ever. She couldn’t stand still. Her dark eyes flicked to the clock again. She picked up her glass award and examined it listlessly. The coveted trophy felt heavy and cool in her hand and it was hers, all hers, something she’d only dreamed of up until tonight and yet all she could think of was him.Snow was still falling, heavy and silent. It gave the dark an ethereal glow, something worlds away from the humid Hawaiian nights she’d known all her life. Setting the award down, she paced anxiously across the room. Was he coming? How could he not?Her phone was ringing in her purse but she ignored it, incapable of dealing with anything more than her own self. Everything had snowballed spectacularly – after weeks of monotony, one night had thrown everything she thought she’d known into a blizzard of uncertainty. Dean. He was probably the one calling. She didn’t want to talk to him, didn’t know half of what to say and besides, he didn’t deserve it, didn’t deserve any of her. She switched her phone off and throbbing silence resumed.The anticipation was driving her crazy. She wandered into the adjoining bathroom and eyed the shower. But what if the man from the bar came by and she missed him? The thought was unbearable. He must have seen her ID. Or maybe he hadn’t. Maybe he’d been too high on the thought of Sheyla, whoever the hell she was, and maybe he’d just left without a clue that he’d fingered a complete stranger to orgasm.Autumn closed her eyes. His fingers. He’d touched her so forcefully, urgent and demanding and she’d taken it like he had a right, like she’d needed it. Maybe she had. It had filled her with excitement. He’d come on so strong and confident that it felt perfectly natural to fall apart around his fingers. But it wasn’t for her. It was for someone else, this Sheyla, some bizarre case of mistaken identity that both thrilled and horrified her.Would he come? He must have seen her ID card. Must’ve realised his mistake. And surely he couldn’t just walk away. The intensity in his voice had made her knees weak. She clenched at the memory of it. Her panties were still damp – she’d felt perpetually wet and needy since he’d first touched her and the ache hadn’t gone anywhere.She could hardly even remember her acceptance speech in the hall afterwards, let alone her excuses to Rae. All she could think of was the stranger. She didn’t even know his name. Just him. His face and his words and his aching proximity and his goddamn fingers. Nothing else seemed to matter anymore. Her eyes went to the clock again and she looked desperately at the door. She didn’t think she could bear it if she never saw him again.***Pryce couldn’t bring himself to go back in the conference hall. He’d already made his little speech to thank his publisher and editor in receiving the least important award of the night. He hated these events, but his contract forced him to be there.He sat a while longer at the bar wondering when some furious husband was going to come storming in ready to fight. But there was only the couple talking in muted voices in one of the booths, the bartender wiping glasses and the sound of the twenty-four-hour news channel playing on the television over the bar. As he brought his hand to his face to scrub at the stubble on his jaw, Pryce suddenly inhaled the unexpected scent of her pussy still redolent on his fingers. It pulled him back to the moment he’d had his hand under a total stranger’s pretty dress. He remembered looking at her the way he’d always wanted to look at Sheyla, holding her eyes and memorizing every line and curve in her face.His cock started to swell again, the way it had when he’d slipped his fingers up inside a woman named Autumn. He wasn’t even sure who he wanted anymore: a girl from the past his memory had probably turned into something more than canlı bahis she’d ever been in the first place, or a married stranger who hadn’t said anything to correct his mistake as she let him finger her to a near public orgasm? She’d even played along. And then beat the hastiest retreat she could.He inhaled her scent again and remembered the way that wounded look in her dark eyes had changed the moment he touched her. Something had happened to her. But something had happened to the two of them as well. Whatever it was was formless. Indefinable. And maybe a mistake. She wasn’t Sheyla. She was Autumn and she was here and now. There had to be a reason she hadn’t stopped him or told him she wasn’t who he’d thought.Maybe she’d just been caught up in one of those unexplainable perfect storm moments that come along every once in a very great while. Maybe she’d simply been too stunned to say a word. But why would she have touched him? The brush of her hand across his aroused cock through his pants, light as a zephyr, almost as if she hadn’t even touched him at all was as palpable now as if her hand were still there. He wouldn’t have throbbed any harder at her touch if she’d unzipped him then and there and pulled that aching stalk out of his pants.As he sat reliving the sensation of her gliding fingers, again inhaling the scent clinging to his fingers, he started to forget why she’d reminded him of Sheyla in the first place. Details flooded through his mind. Sheyla had gripped him like no one else without ever knowing it. Remembering her had become the only relationship that never failed him – the only one that had never actually happened.There had to be something else. Something in the way the loose strands of her hair clung to the silk of her slender neck. Something in the way her eyes burst into obsidian fire when he touched her like he knew her. No, not like he knew her. Like he owned her. Like he deserved her. Like he wanted her more than his next breath.He closed his eyes and took his next breath. Something like that just didn’t happen by accident. Maybe not by design, but not at all by sheer accident. Something inside him aligned with something inside her. It was formless and completely on fire.The tip of his thumb flicked back and forth over the plastic edge of the lanyard in his hand. Autumn was not Sheyla, and he was not who he’d been back in those days. If personal history were bound to repeat itself, at least Autumn would become a whole different kind of failure.Pryce drained his drink and left the bar, heading for the reception desk. There was an Asian woman somewhere in her twenties on duty, and when he asked what room Autumn was in she pursed her lips and knit her brow in disapproval. He invented the excuse that they worked for the same publisher and had set up a meeting that he was already running late for. With an impatient sigh, the clerk called Autumn’s room.“Ms Casey? There’s a Mr…”“Harrison,” Pryce told her. “Pryce Harrison.”The clerk repeated his name. He was relieved a few seconds later when she hung up and smiled at him. She told him the room he wanted was 2806. He thanked her and spun on his heels to head for the elevator. Inside, he hit the button for the twenty-eighth floor. As the doors slid shut, he leaned against the wall and deflated slightly. His cock was still partly swollen and his heart was beginning to hammer softly. He shoved his hand in his pocket and hoped no one else would get on as he squeezed his cock from inside his pocket.The elevator rose without stopping.“What the fuck are you doing, Pryce?” he asked himself out loud.***Autumn set the room phone down carefully, hardly daring to believe what she’d just done. He was coming. Pryce. She whispered it like the world was trying to eavesdrop. Pryce. She wondered if it was his real name. Did it matter? He was coming to her hotel room. The realisation made everything inside her clench hard. Would he be angry? Excited? Turned on?Her heart was pounding and all of a sudden she felt consumed by apprehension. He was a stranger, nothing more than a stranger, albeit one who’d reached under her skirt and touched her like he knew everything she was made of. She smoothed down the velvet of her dress and paced towards the door. He was coming. God, this man was coming to her hotel room and it had happened, it had really happened and she hadn’t been with anyone but Dean for years and yet after the way this man had touched her, she wanted more, so much more. She took a breath and tucked her hair behind her ears, appraising her outfit in the mirror. Maybe she ought to change. But there was no time. She closed her eyes, trying to be rational.

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