It was some kind of magic, fusing them together. Imprinting them on each other, because this was fate.
Maybe it might look like a simple fucking, but Indy had known better.
He was making them real. He was making sure the both of them knew that neither one of their lives would ever be the same.
Because how could anything have been the same after that?
When he came she could feel him inside her, scalding her, and she’d loved that, too.
And then, for a while, they’d had to stay like that. Slumped into each other in the front seat of his SUV because neither one of them was breathing too well.
He’d recovered first. He’d lifted her, muttering another curse when she’d made a little sobbing sound at the loss of his cock. He’d set her in the passenger seat beside him, then winced as he’d folded his cock back into his jeans.
I am Stefan, he’d told her in that growl of his that had made her think of wolves again. She’d smoothed her red skirt down toward her thighs and shivered. Stefan Romanescu.
Indy, she’d replied. Indy March.
Indy? He’d sounded as if he was tasting her name the way he’d tasted her nipples. What kind of name is this?
Short for Indiana.
Indiana, he’d murmured, another long, deep taste.
Indy had nearly come again, just from that.
He’d looked around—out to the street and in his mirrors—in a way that told her more things about him. That he had some kind of military background. That he was just as deeply dangerous as she’d thought he was, if not more, because he wasn’t anything so simple as a thug.
But none of that had changed the fact that he was hers.
Nothing ever will, a voice in her had intoned, solemn and sure.
She’d curled her knees up beneath her and hadn’t cared where her skirt fell. The thong she’d simply moved to the side made her pussy feel even more wet and swollen, because it kept grabbing at her. Reminding her.
Not that she’d needed reminding.
We didn’t use a condom, she had pointed out.
You American girls are all on the pill. He hadn’t even looked at her as he started the car, then pulled out, roaring away from the curb and into the dark Budapest streets in a manner that told her he knew them well. And if you give me something, eh. Then we both have it. A memento, maybe.
She’d laughed, then shrugged when he’d shot a dark look her way. I don’t have anything. Yours is the only cock that has ever been inside me without a condom.
His gaze had caught at her, intense and too blue. The only one that ever will be, Indiana.
And she’d accepted that, because she’d felt it, too.
Fate.
Stefan had driven her straight to the airport.
I don’t know what your travel plans are, but they must change, he’d told her, another command. It came easily to him, she’d understood. It was who he was, maybe. You must leave here. Tonight. And do not return.
But—
I need time, he’d said with an urgency that she’d felt inside her like her own heartbeat. Two years. Then I will deal with this. With you. Do you understand?
Two years? She’d blinked the unexpected emotion away, not sure what was happening to her. Not sure words existed to describe what had already happened, much less what had still been happening. Stefan...
He had taken her jaw in his hard hand. Keep that pussy greedy for me, foolish girl. And enjoy as many inferior fucks as you can with my blessing. I want you limber.
He had given her the key, told her a time, made her memorize the address.
And she hadn’t heard from him since.
Indy blew out a breath at her café table in Prague. She drank down the last of her coffee.
She hadn’t told anybody what had happened to her in Budapest. Because what could she say? Instead, she’d flown back to the States. She’d surprised her sister and moved in with her when her latest disappointing roommate had moved out.
She had cried when her skinned knees healed, because it had felt as if the loss of those scrapes took Stefan away from her. And she’d spent the last two years in New York because she’d lost the thirst for it. She’d been everywhere. She’d seen everything. And she’d found what she’d been looking for without knowing it—but she couldn’t have him.
Yet.
Yet, she would whisper out loud in her bed at night, holding on tight to that key. Yet.
For a while, she hadn’t wanted to bother with sex—for pretty much the first time since she’d discovered it in high school—because what was the point? When you’d had the very best, why backslide into less than that? The first time she’d let a cute boy in a Brooklyn bar take her home, it had made her feel as close to empty as she’d ever been.
But when she thought of sex as keeping herself fit enough to be worthy to fuck Stefan again, that changed everything.
Indy had impatiently waited out her two years. She had kept herself limber.
And now she was ready.
She left the café with only twenty minutes to go before the meeting time. The gorgeous old city gleamed bright in the summer sun, but all she could think about was the house up in the hills that she’d stared at on Google Maps a thousand times.
Indy took a cab out of Prague proper, crossing the river and scaling the hills into a neighborhood she’d read a lot about, these past two years. Upscale. Quiet. Wealthy.
Her heart was going wild in her chest and she pressed the heel of her palm hard against it, feeling something like giddy that this was finally happening. She knew that if she’d told anybody what she was doing, they not only would have told her something was wrong with her, they would have tried to talk her out of coming here today. They certainly would have tried to impose their grubby
