The girl looked up at her, dark blue eyes the colour of the ocean in the midst of a raging storm, capturing her gaze. She brushed a lock of honey-blonde hair away from golden skin. She didn’t seem to be more than sixteen years old. “Zheng Cong. He organised the festival here today for everyone. It’s to celebrate the opening of the new wing at the children’s hospital. It’s officially opening today, but everyone’s here, so I expect no one is inside.”
“Really?” Tara said, glancing around. “Does he own the hospital or something?”
“No, he’s just given the money to the hospital. It’s for disabled children. It’s going to be the biggest one in Southern China,” the girl said, then held out a hand to Tara. “I’m Natalie, by the way.”
Taking the girl’s hand in her own, Tara gave her a warm smile. “I’m Tara. Do you live in Macau?”
Natalie shrugged. “My mum and dad moved to Macau. They’re English teachers. We used to live in Tokyo before that. Macau’s nice but I’m missing my friends in Japan.”
“I can understand that. I’d miss my friends if I moved, too,” Tara replied gently.
“I was in the main part of the hospital a few weeks ago after I picked up a virus. While I was in there, my brother broke my wheelchair. Things like wheelchairs are real expensive in China, so mum and dad were fretting over how they were going to get me a new one. Then Zheng Cong came into the hospital, and he talked to me. Most of the other teenagers and kids in the ward didn’t speak English, so it was nice I could talk to him,” Natalie said, tilting her head to one side.
Tara could see the memory flash in her eyes but loved how chatty the girl was. “What did you talk about?”
Natalie’s smile deepened. “He said that no girl my age should be worried about how she gets around. The next day, this chair came.” She patted the wheels. “He wrote a note saying he couldn’t decide whether I reminded him of a bumblebee or a tiger.”
“I have now decided that you are most like a bumblebee. Always buzzing around and talking to people.”
Tara’s head jerked sharply upwards at the voice, startled to see Cong standing there with one side of his lips curved upwards in amusement.
“Cong!” Natalie squealed, propelling the chair forward. “Your speech rocked! It was so uplifting, seriously.”
Laughter flowed over Cong’s lips as she stared back down at the teenager in front of him. Damn, he looked good. Wearing tan trousers that hugged his thighs and a loose-fitting short-sleeved shirt, he looked like any typical office worker out early on a Friday afternoon. Something clenched down below, and the butterflies in her stomach started to make their presence known. Tara watched him interact with Natalie although their voices were soon drowned out by the sound of her internal self drooling over the sight of him. Cong listened intently to Natalie, his eyes boring straight into the young girl’s face as she chatted, a stream of words flowing eagerly from her mouth. Suddenly, Cong looked up.
“Sorry, Natalie, but do you mind if I have a word with Tara please?”
Natalie twisted her head round to smile back at her. “How do you know her name?”
That one-cornered smile shot up once again. “She fell into my arms at the airport. Her heel broke, and I caught her.”
Natalie clapped her hands, delight spreading across her young face. “Oh. If you caught her, then she’s yours to keep!”
An explosion of laughter boomed from Cong’s mouth. “Do you think so? What would I do with a beautiful woman like Tara if I kept her?”
Lifting her head back to face Cong, Natalie arched her brow, and her features positioned in mock seriousness. “First you marry her, and then you do the rest of you-know-what. Grandma always said, no ring, no ding-a-ling.”
Tara felt the blood pool into her cheeks, embarrassment staining her face. And Cassie always said that younger kids were the ones to watch out for. Cong’s laughter echoed in her ears.
“I’ll bear that in mind, and I’ll get my secretary to remind me to send you an invite to the wedding,” he told her, winking back at Tara. The blush stained her cheeks further.
“Great. Mum will most likely make me wear a dress, but I’ll get Dad to convince her to let me wear a tux. I’ve always wanted to wear one. Anyway, I’d better go and find them. Catch you later, Cong! Bye, Tara!”
Waving to the girl as she wheeled herself away, Tara couldn’t help but smile. “Bye, Natalie.” The energy teenagers carried was infectious, as was her personality.
Glancing back, whiskey-hued eyes stared back at her, a strange expression passing over his face as he examined hers. Silence stretched between them before Tara finally broke it. “Hi.”
“Hi.”
Inhaling deeply, Tara brushed a stray lock of hair from her face. “How have you been?”
“Good.”
Christ, girl, you can tell he doesn’t want you. Just get off there and let him get on with his event. You’re not even a local, just some dumb tourist.
Another moment of silence imprisoned them both before Tara finally worked up the courage to speak again. “You didn’t call.”
Cong took a step forward and Tara caught a glimmer of something in his eyes. Was that nerves? “I know. I meant to, but something came up at work, and I got behind.”
“Oh.” No, it didn’t. He’s just too polite to try and spare your feelings. Telling the voice in her head to shut up, Tara took a tentative step closer to him. There was hunger in his eyes, no matter what that annoying voice claimed. “You had an event to organise. This is amazing, by the way. You should be proud of yourself.”
A genuine smile fluttered across his lips as Cong bowed his head in her direction. “Thank you, although I can’t take all the credit. Angela, my secretary, organised a lot of it. I just gave her the general gist of what I thought might be good, but she arranged for everything.”
Toying with her hands, Tara returned the smile. “Well, she’s done an amazing job. Everyone looks as if they’re having a great time.”
A sigh escaped Cong’s lips as a group of people brushed past them, forcing them to step closer to each other. “That’s what I wanted, for everyone to enjoy themselves. People work so damn hard over here, it’s part of who we are, but every so often it’s good to enjoy yourself and have fun.”
“Natalie said you’re sponsoring a new children’s ward, is that right?”
Cong nodded, running a hand through his short jet-black hair. “It’s a ward catering specifically for disabled children. Many families struggle to find decent hospital care for kids with physical and mental disabilities, so I thought it was about time that we had a good one in the south. Beijing has a decent hospital, so does Shanghai and Hong Kong, but we needed one for this area.”
“Why for disabled children?”
Something flashed behind those glittering eyes, but Tara couldn’t put her finger on what it was. “Just a cause close to my heart.” This time, the smile on his face was tinged with sadness, before he shook his head, as though casting away a memory. “Anyway, what have you been doing since I last saw you? Let’s grab some food, and you can regale me with your adventures.”
Allowing Cong to guide her through the crowds, Tara laughed lightly. “Not much. I’ve been to a few more museums and some touristy spots. Last night I even went to a casino. My first time for that, too.”
“Macau is shaping up to be a pretty good place for first-time experiences, no?”
Weaving around a group of children all of whom were using crutches, Tara smiled and nodded. “Oh, yes. It was the first time I accidentally knocked a camera out of someone’s hands as well. That was a first-time experience I could have done without.”
Cong laughed. “You must be the clumsiest woman I have ever met in my life, Tara. How did you do that?”
They stood in front of a vendor selling shaved ice cream. Exchanging words with the vendor, she smiled and nodded her thanks as he handed her a pot and spoon. “It wasn’t my fault. This couple asked me to take a photo of
them, and just as I hit the button, some bird swooped down, and I dropped the camera,” she told him, snorting at the memory.
Cong stopped his hand halfway to his mouth, his spoon filled with off-white shaved ice cream, as he laughed. “Only you, Tara.”
Tara sighed. “Only me,” she agreed, bringing her spoon to her mouth. As soon as the icy dessert hit her tongue, Tara moaned in delight. The vanilla goodness burst into her mouth, the creamiest she’d ever tasted. She dug in for more.
“I was an idiot.”
Tara glanced up, to find Cong regarding her steadily with his whiskey-coloured eyes and she discovered that she couldn’t look away. “Why were you an idiot?” she asked, confusion creasing her brow.
“For not calling you earlier. I wish I had.”
A thrill sizzled through Tara’s entire body, and she watched as Cong’s eyes glittered as they locked with hers, a hunger igniting in them that coiled heat between her thighs. “You were an idiot, but since I’m here now, what do you suggest?”
A grin stretched across his face. “Let me take you out again, Tara. Let me show you another side of Macau, and myself. If you’ll let me?”
A knot of nervousness tightened in Tara’s stomach as she stepped closer to him. She was on holiday, she was single, she could do whatever she wanted while she was here. And she knew what she wanted to do. It was now or never.
With only an inch of air separating their bodies, with one hand she reached up and curled her hand behind Cong’s neck. His brown eyes suddenly smouldered into a radiating gold. With adrenaline pulsing through her, she stood on tiptoes and brought his head down, finally claiming those full lips for her own, and drowning out the whistles and catcalls around her as Cong’s hand pulled her tight against his body.
Tara
The butterflies in Tara’s stomach were dancing, a mad fluttering that sent goose-bumps all over her body. The anticipation was killing her, along with the fact that neither of them had hardly said a word since the festival. Instead, after discarding their ice cream pots, he’d simply escorted her away from the festivities and walked down the street, hand in hand.
Tara gasped as he led her inside a shiny steel and glass building manned by a doorman who greeted him warmly. Nodding, Cong moved silently past him, still clutching Tara’s hand, as he made a beeline for the elevator. Tara knew where they were going.
His apartment.
And she didn’t care. She wanted this. More than what she could ever vocalise, this was where she wanted to be. She tried to slow her heartbeat, to cool the heat of lust that flooded her body, but she couldn’t. Her core tightened as Cong’s fingers made erotic circles on her hand as they waited, and adrenaline exploded in her veins.
Suddenly, a bell dinged, and the doors opened. Cong pulled her inside and pressed the top button, then punched a code into the keypad next to it. As soon as the doors closed, he turned to her. His gaze met hers, his eyes so dark, so intense that Tara’s entire body shuddered under them. Slowly, he brought his hands up to her face, cupping them, and brought his lips down to hers. So soft, Tara thought as they gently played across her lips. Pulling back, Tara met his gaze, then suddenly, all gentleness was out of the window, and passion took control.
Cong yanked her towards him as close as he could get, his fists buried in her hair as he claimed her mouth for his own. She opened her mouth as his tongue demanded entrance, and her own met his in a fiery, passionate dance. Tara wrapped her arms around his back, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt. She thought she could hear moaning, but her heartbeat pounding in her head made her unsure of anything. Not an inch of her didn’t vibrate under the skill of his tongue, the glide of his lips, and the barely contained control within his body. His mouth was demanding and passionate, hungry for something that she herself was starving for.
The bell dinged, and the doors opened. Reluctantly, Cong pulled away, both breathing hard. “Come on,” he whispered, his voice low and husky as she reached for her hand. “Let me show you my place.”
Tara took the hand offered to her and stepped outside the elevator. Unable to capture the gasp that escaped from her mouth, Tara’s eyes widened as she took in the sight before her. The elevator opened into his living room, easily bigger than the assembly hall at her school. Three leather sofas sat around a coffee table to the right, a dining table that would comfortably seat twelve positioned beside the glass wall to the middle, and a full-sized bar to the left of it. Decorated in pale greys and teal blue, it was magnificent and easily matched its owner.
“This is beautiful,” Tara whispered, glancing all around. Cong chuckled softly, and pulled her closer.
“Wait until you see the next room,” he told her, an appreciative smile tugging at his lips as he led her past the sofas and towards a hallway. Opening a door, he led her inside to what was clearly his bedroom. Tara caught a glimpse of grey and red before Cong pinned her up against the wall, his mouth devouring hers, as though he was on fire and she the only source of water around.
Tara snaked her hands around his back, tugging the shirt out of his trousers as his own once more buried themselves in her hair. His tongue whirled with hers, a sensual dance that fanned the flames burning between them. Tara felt hot skin underneath her fingers and the waistband of his underwear. Delving her fingers inside, she cupped the taut muscles of his buttocks, producing a moan from his lips.
Suddenly, Cong pulled back, and tugged at her top, pulling it over her head and exposing her bra. Tara watched as his eyes darkened even more at the sight of her flesh encased in hot pink lace, and a mischievous smile danced over his lips. “Lengzai,” he whispered, locking his gaze with hers. “You are so beautiful, Tara.”
“You never did tell me what lengzai means,” she told him, tugging at his shirt, and helping to pull it over his head. Christ, the man has an eight-pack, she said to herself at the sight of his chest, running her hands over the cinnamon-coloured flesh. Tara smiled, her heart fluttering at the way he pronounced her name. It had never sounded so good as the way he did it, she thought.
“It means beautiful,” Cong told her, before claiming her lips for another passionate kiss. The world fell away as his lips moved across hers, soft yet firm. She ran her fingers up and down his spine, loving the sensation of his smooth skin beneath hers. Cong’s lips trailed down the side of her face, kissing her neck until he reached the delicate skin between her neck and shoulder. Tara gasped as he pulled the sensitive skin between his teeth as his other hand tugged on her nipple.
Tara’s head swam with sensation, all thoughts dissipated under his touch. Slowly, Cong worked his way down the front of her chest, until his lips met the lace of her bra. Tugging it down and exposing the pink bud, he looked up and gave her a devilish grin before claiming it.
Flicking his tongue over the pert teat, Cong worked her body up into a frenzy. Arching her spine and throwing her head back, Tara surrendered to the sensation. Every flick and suck sent a shiver down her body, and the space within her thighs tightened, as though an invisible string connected her nipples and core. Christ, he played a mesmerising tune with her nipples.
Soon, Tara was panting hard under the skill of his tongue, her hands buried in his hair. She almost wept when he lifted his mouth from her breast but cried out in relief when he focused his attention on the other. Time slipped away from reality as Cong’s tongue worked its magic, and she found her eyes blurring as he stood up and ripped the bra from her body before bending down and peeling away her trousers and shoes.
Discarding them, Cong gazed up at her, wearing nothing but pink lace between her thighs. Slowly, he ran his hands up and down her legs, marvelling at how creamy they were. A heated smoulder in his dark gaze forced her to clench her thighs together, but at the same time she desperately wanted to spread them as far apart as she could, so he could touch her there.
Gently, Cong slipped his fingers between the edges of her underwear and slid them down, achingly slow, until he was able to throw them to one side. “Ope
n your legs for me, lengzai,” he ordered, his voice husky and low.
Tara complied. She held her breath, waiting, and then suddenly, his mouth was on that most sensitive of places. His tongue flicked over that tight little bud, his fingers clutching at her butt, driving her closer to him. Cong raked her sex with one smooth, slick glide, causing her blood to thrum faster as she parted her lips. Her breathing quickened, the intense rhythm of her heartbeat pounding irregularly in her chest, hammering quicker than lightning as his mouth continued to move against her core.
Moans escaped Tara’s mouth as she rolled her head back, her breathing coming in short hard pants. Then she felt a finger pressing inside her, her core instantly tightening around it. Another finger joined it; in, out, quicker, faster, until she was crying out with the intensity. Hot bolts of pleasure sizzled through her veins and her clit throbbed, demanding release. Cong’s tongue moved faster, working in time with his fingers until suddenly Tara cried out, her core clenching around him, as she finally fell over the cliff in absolute pleasure.
Knees buckling under the intensity, Tara found herself cradled in strong arms. Soft lips descended upon hers, and she could taste both herself and the hint of sea salt and caramel in her mouth.
Tearing his mouth away, Cong placed her gently on the bed. “By all the gods, you are intoxicating,” he whispered, running a tender hand along her body, his sincerity showing in his tone. “You’re like a drug, Tara. I just can’t get enough of you.”
“Then take all of me,” Tara whispered, the words coming out in a breathless voice.
Cong stood away from the bed, hurrying to take off the remainder of his clothes. His chest was magnificent, a ripple of hard muscles and taut skin. When he stood up, Tara’s eyes widened at the sight of him. Long, thick, shaven, standing ready for her attention.
Instinctively, Tara sat up and pulled him closer, taking him into her mouth before he could say anything. The masculine scent of him saturated her senses as she slowly wrapped her lips around his member. Gently, she licked the top of him, then allowed her mouth to sink all the way down, reminding herself to breathe. Christ, he tasted so damn good.
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