Elsa held her head close, and arched her neck, sighing. Nic moved to the other nipple and began unbuttoning Elsa’s jeans. She pushed her back while using one arm to help lift her off the stool and guide her onto the floor. On her knees between Elsa’s legs, she shimmied the jeans down and pulled them off, tossing them to the side. Her panties followed. Taking on the role of Top, Nic pulled her own T-shirt off, exposing her full breasts. Elsa’s eyes zeroed in on the firm globes as she reached up to run her fingers over the dusky, beige nipples. She sat up and began licking them, reveling in the feel of tight, velvety peaks on her tongue. Nic pushed her pants down, and somewhat awkwardly released them one knee at a time. Kicking them off from her ankles, she leaned over Elsa, forcing her onto her back and began a slow, wet assault with her tongue over her breasts and abdomen. Her hand caressed downward to her athletic, creamy thighs, and then tickled softly over red pubic hair. She repeated the action without delving deeper, and Elsa’s eyes pleaded with her.
“Nicolette, please.” Her body was aching to be touched. Elsa’s hands wanted to roam over the tanned body. They itched to feel her skin. Eyes met, and needs communicated. Nicolette turned and straddled Elsa’s shoulders, offering a spectacular intimate view. She was pierced, something Elsa never knew. As she marveled at the sight before her eyes, her hands caressed up and down Nic’s thighs. Below, Nicolette dove deep. Elsa nearly exploded. Pulling Nic’s bottom down, she returned the pleasure lick for lick. Together, they found a rhythm, riding it out until they crashed together in a spectacular climax.
Through the two-way mirror, a man witnessed the scene going on between the women. He waited until they were finished, uncomfortably adjusting himself a time or two along the way. The blonde woman lingered, kissing the redhead often. She asked the redhead to join her for dinner that evening, but red declined saying she had to get home to her little brother. She was kind in her rejection, but the disappointment was clear on the blonde’s face. Red tried to reassure her with promises of “another time.”
Mollified, the blonde finally got dressed and left, but not before blowing red a kiss. Red sat on the floor for a while. After what seemed like an eternity, she pulled on her clothes and put her cleaning items away. She walked out of the double doors into the long, dark hallway and headed toward a back exit. He followed quietly as she went out into the twilight and headed toward the UBahn station. There, she descended the stairs and waited on the platform for her train. He stood back, waiting. When the tube arrived, she hopped on. He entered one door down and sat where he could watch her. She was engrossed in texting on her cell phone.
A ten-minute ride brought her to her destination where she got off and walked up the stairs to the street. He stayed back, but watched where she went, then trailed. As she walked a few blocks, crossed to the other side, and entered a building, he ran across the short distance from the pathway and stuck his foot into the door before it could close and lock. Inside, he found the lifts and looked at the floor numbers as the elevator climbed. It stopped on the fourth floor. When it began its descent once again, he knew that was her floor. He opened the door to the stairs adjacent and ran up four flights. Roaming the hallway, he stopped and waited. Click. The sound of a door closing on the far end of the hall alerted him to her whereabouts. He walked down and around the corner. Only one flat was on this side. The man made a mental note, then went back to the lifts, caught a car down, and went out to the street where he hailed a taxi.
“Where to?” The cab driver noted the man’s appearance and reached one hand under his seat slowly, finding his handgun. Assured it was still there, he waited for a reply.
“Das Marriott, bitte.” The Mohawk and swastikas tattooed on the man, and the menacing look in his eyes put the driver on edge. All he could think to do was get him where he wanted to go quickly. He took off and treated the city streets like the Autobahn.
Chapter Twenty-One
SARAH CHECKED HERSELF in the mirror one last time. With her hair up in loose curls, and the red halter top and floral skirt adorning her body, she looked ‘Tre chic’, in her opinion. She was going on a date in Berlin with a handsome Dutchman. When did my boring life get so exciting?
Paul sent her a dozen red roses that arrived at the door as she was getting out of the shower. The woman from the front desk smiled hugely at her as she presented the bouquet.
“Nice boyfriend, eh?”
Sarah was amused and pleased. No one had ever sent her flowers before. Well, that’s brownie points for you, Paul Christiansen.
“Not my boyfriend. Just a date,” she told her.
“Well, that’s a good start then.” She wished Sarah a good night and left. Setting the flowers down on the table in the corner, she looked for the card. It was hand-written.
Hope we are still on for six. My number in case you need it is below. Can’t wait to see you again...~ P.C.
She’d laid the card down and completed getting ready for her date with the scent of roses filling the room.
Standing before them once again and remembering the moment they arrived just a short while ago, a smile spread across her face. Sarah picked up the card and put it in her wallet. Then she took a picture of the roses with her cell phone. It was a moment she would always remember. Considering this, she plucked out one of the blooms and laid it on the table. She would need to purchase a hardback book so she could press the flower between the pages. The book would matter, too, so she promised herself that she would go shopping the next day and find something befitting this moment.
Sarah picked up her purse and room key and headed down to the lobby. International date night was about to begin.
Paul’s taxi pulled up to the hotel at exactly six. Sarah walked out the front doors and crossed over the walkway and bike path to the curb where Paul, dressed up and looking even more like a cosmopolitan male model fresh off the front page of GQ, waited beside the open car door. He handed her a single red rose.
“More flowers?” She laughed and brought the bloom up to her nose, inhaling its sweet scent.
With his hands on her bare upper arms, he leaned down and kissed each cheek in greeting. “You look stunning. The lady in red.” He took her free hand and spun her around like a dancer, admiring her grace and the length of her smooth legs beneath the flair of her skirt.
“Shall we?” He helped her into the backseat of the taxi. Sarah scooted in and Paul climbed in beside her. As the car pulled into traffic, she noticed the subtle scent of his aftershave. Sandalwood with a hint of lavender and moss. His hair was combed back, but the wave still persisted and ended with a slight curl on the nape of his neck. His dark blue suit and white T-shirt made his already bright blue eyes brighter. He looked very handsome and smelled even better. Keeping her promise to Anno, and herself, would not be easy while on a date with such an appealing man. His thigh brushed hers as the vehicle weaved in and out of traffic. Warm, but no sudden spark like she experienced with Anthony. He glanced her way, a glint in his eye, and a small smile on his lips.
“So where are we going,” Sarah asked.
Paul enjoyed her excitement and curiosity. “You’ll see.” He reached over and covered her hand with his own, caressing the back of it with his thumb.
“You’re a tease, Paul Christiansen.” She gave him a mock serious look.
“You’ve no idea, Sarah,” he laughed. “But I promise you’ll love it.”
As they maneuvered down Wilhelmstraße, the beautiful architecture of Berlin revealed itself to Sarah’s interested eyes. They came to a large, dome-topped building jutting out into, and surrounded on nearly all sides, by water.
“Where are we?” Sarah stared, taking in the majesty of the building.
Paul stepped out and offered his hand to Sarah. He leaned into the cab and paid the driver, asking him to come back in one hour.
“This is the Bode Museum. It was established back in the late 1800s by Wilhelm von Bode, but the idea came from the Crown Princess Victoria of Prussia, wife of Em
peror Frederick III. Inside is one of the largest collections of sculptures and Byzantium art in the world. We have one hour until closing.” Paul offered his arm. “Will you join me, Miss Brown, on a little walk through history?”
Sarah placed her hand on Paul’s arm and grinned up at him. Damn. He’s earning more brownie points! “Yes, Mr. Christiansen, I’d love to.”
She looked out over the waterway on either side as they passed over a bridge to the entrance. Twilight cast a surreal glow over the water as streetlights came on like someone flipped a master switch. The sound of waves lapping the shoreline and a bell from a buoy further out mingled together creating nature’s orchestral music for Sarah’s ears. It struck her that she was on a romantic date in Europe with a gorgeous man, and only a little over a week ago, she was just a library aid from a small town in Texas. Her conscience interfered, allowing one thought to sneak in. What would this date be like if I were on Anthony’s arm instead of Paul’s? She knew that was unfair to the man at her side, so she shook her head, clearing the thought away. They passed under the dome inside which led to the main hall. The height and sculptural details amazed Sarah, who nearly tripped as she attempted walking while looking straight up overhead at the grand staircase. Statues lined the circular walls and spires near the ceiling. Together, they strolled through the exhibits and displays of fine art. Paul was a wonderful tour guide; informed, but not a show-off.
“There are fifteen centuries of culture in this museum, Sarah. Imagine that. We come from such a rich history of immensely talented people touched by some kind of divinity that they have, thankfully, shared with us in their artistic creations.” Paul, despite his base nature, loved art, and being able to share it with someone seeing it through innocent eyes was beyond enjoyable. He watched her face noting the joy lifting her lovely lips into a permanent smile as they came upon each new sculpture, each new mosaic or painting. She even showed interested in the ancient coins on display.
Paul extended his arm, reaching down to hold her hand. It was such a subtle shift, she didn’t even notice until it dawned on her that his large, warm hand engulfed her own. It was nice, so she allowed it to continue throughout the tour.
Their time passed by pleasantly, and an announcement was made that the museum would be closing in fifteen minutes. They hadn’t even seen half of it!
“Thank you, Paul. That was beautiful. I just wish we had more time to get through the rest of it.” They crossed the bridge back to the street and waited for their taxi. Night had fallen, and lights twinkled along the streets, casting a muted glow that tapered off into the darkness.
Paul reached up and tucked a strand of Sarah’s blonde hair behind her ear. “You’re welcome. I’m just glad you had fun. Art is something I love. I paint in my spare time, but I’m nowhere near the level of what we just saw.”
“I’d love to see your work. I can barely draw a stick figure.” Learning that he had the soul of an artist made her to think of him in a different light. He was very kind, or at least, he had been to her. That, and his model good looks, was making it much harder to ignore his charms, yet he wasn’t making any advances. Instead, he was being a perfect gentleman.
“I’d love to show you. But you’d have to come to Amsterdam.” He smiled and stared down into her brown eyes.
“So you can lure me to your home to show me your etchings, sir?” A laugh teased at the edges of her red lips as she uttered a cliched line from one of the many books she’d read.
“So I can paint you,” he whispered, his voice low and oddly sexy. Caught off guard, her breath caught in her throat, and heat bloomed on her cheeks.
Paint her? The idea of posing for him was tempting, and incredibly erotic. Would she be clothed or nude? Thinking of him watching her intently while she stood naked, unmoving, made the blush on her cheeks travel all over her body. Wow! Would I? Could I? Then...he’s already seen me naked! Remembering that he was the man on the other side of the mirror made her blush a deeper crimson.
He seemed to read her thoughts as a slow smile spread across his lush lips, causing his dimples to deepen on either side. They reminded her of Anthony. But he’s not here, and Paul is, she admonished herself.
I fucking miss you. Anthony’s message flashed through her mind.
A car horn interrupted them as the taxi pulled up to the curb. “Ready for dinner, Miss Brown?” Paul knew he was making progress, but he also noticed that he suddenly wasn’t in such a hurry. He was thoroughly enjoying his time with Sarah. It had been a long time since he last went on a proper date—a very long time. She was sweet, fun, intelligent, flirty, and sexy. Just the kind of woman a man looks for when he’s ready to settle down. He wasn’t ready to settle down, but he might be ready to try a more equal kind of relationship with a woman—with this woman—rather than the usual type with which he dallied.
They slid into the backseat and headed off for a late supper. Another car followed. As they drove onto Tiergartenstraße toward the Hotel Brandenburger Hof, the vehicle behind them kept pace at a discreet distance. Inside the taxi, Paul continued to hold Sarah’s hand, softly caressing her palm with his finger. Sarah tried to ignore the warm spirals running up her arm from the seemingly innocent caresses, but it was not easy. Being with Paul was a far cry from being with Anthony. They shared an animal attraction that was raw in its need to be expressed. Anthony was a little cruder in his speech, although that never bothered her. Paul, on the other hand, was cultured, quiet and kind, and his charm was subtle, yet it seemed to build upon itself in warm layers that gently peeled away her inhibitions. She was afraid it might also conquer her conviction to remain platonic. Stay strong! Sarah reminded herself she would take things slow, and just enjoy being on a date.
The ride to their dinner destination took less than fifteen minutes. Paul informed her they would be dining at Die Quadriga, a popular restaurant inside the quaint five-star hotel. Outside, striped awnings adorned windows on either side of, and over, the entryway. Sconce lighting lit up the door, and inside the restaurant, the hostess greeted Paul like an old friend and led them to a table in the corner near the floor-to-ceiling glass doors that led out to patio dining. The wall behind their table was covered in dark wood wainscoting polished to a shine. The white crown-molding outlining the recessed ceilings added old-world charm, and the crystal goblets sitting just so next to the white porcelain place settings and silverware, reflected the muted overhead lighting and candlelight softly shining from a hurricane lamp in the center of the table. With the doors open to the patio beyond, a warm breeze blew in, carrying with it the scent of Jasmine and climbing roses. It was almost perfect.
“Paul, this place is too much.” Sarah couldn’t stop looking around at everything, absorbing the ambiance, memorizing every detail.
“It couldn’t possibly be too much. Not for you.” Paul held the back of her chair and helped adjust it in after she sat. He pulled up the chair next to her rather than across from where she was seated.
“How do you know about this place? The hostess seemed friendly with you.” The observation was innocent, lacking accusation, but he played with her anyway.
“Jealous?” The waiter arrived with the wine menu.
She smiled and gave him a saucy look.
“We’ll start with a Chenin Blanc,” he looked over at Sarah, “and a water with lemon on the side as well.”
“I’ll leave the wine selection to you. I’d be no help at all.” Sarah leaned her chin on her clasped hands and watched as Paul chose no less than three wines to accompany their dinner. The Chenin Blanc would pair with their appetizer—a Flavored Smoke with Kobe, pistachio, and tuna. That was followed by an asparagus soup flavored with chervil, vanilla, and rabbit. The entrée was a delicate Poussin with Rhubarb, celery, and shallots paired with a Sauvignon Blanc, and the main course of Belly of Pork served with water chestnuts, Romanesco, and summer truffles threatened to have the staff roll her out of there later in a wheelbarrow. The final wine was a dessert wine, s
lightly sweet, a Gewürztraminer that went well with their chocolate-hazelnut Nougat. It was the biggest meal Sarah had ever sat down to, and probably the most expensive if her lack of knowledge of what half of it happened to be was anything to go by. Paul seemed comfortable with the selections and ordered it all as if he ate this way every day.
For Sarah, it was too much. Thankfully, European portions were small, but even so, with five courses, she felt she might have to skip the taxi and run back to the hotel.
“Paul, you’re going to make me fat feeding me like that.” She sat back and took a deep breath, her head light from the combination of good food and wine.
“Then we’ll have to come up with a way to burn all these calories.” The devilish glint in his eyes suggested he had a few ways in mind. He stood up and offered his hand. “Come.”
Sarah raised an eyebrow and stood up, slipping her fingers into his waiting palm. He led the way out onto the patio, beyond the tables, to an open area of cobblestones surrounded by topiaries in sculpted urns. The soft strains of classical music filtered through the doors and drifted past their ears, enchanting the night.
“Dance with me.” Paul took her into his arms and began slowly initiating her into the steps of the waltz.
“I’ve never danced to classical music in my life.”
His smile was infectious. “Then it’s past time, don’t you think? Just follow me. One, two, three, one, two, three. See? Easy as breathing.” They twirled around together as Sarah found her footing. It was more than any young woman could ask for—the perfect date. Almost.
The Checkpoint, Berlin Detective Series Box Set Page 15