To my immense relief, Logan grins at me. “I’ve never known you to be dramatic when flustered,” he says sarcastically.

I revel in knowing that he’s taking this so lightly. Or at least, I think he is until he speaks again.

“What is the likelihood of him becoming a danger to you?” he says seriously.

“About five percent,” I say, confidently. “Annoying and intolerable, yes, but he’s not the type of man to turn into a crazy stalker.”

Logan considers my words. “OK,” he finally nods, trusting my analysis. “You did the right thing in mentioning a restraining order, baby. I’ll call him again tomorrow, and reiterate your sentiments.”

“Thank you,” I say, giving him permission to play the protective boyfriend.

Let’s hammer that sentiment home, I think, as we turn a sharp corner and Logan leads me to a mesh-cage elevator.

He pulls open the sliding door and I step inside. It’s snug, able to fit four men at most. After joining me inside, shutting and fastening the door, Logan then takes a key out of his pocket. He inserts it into an ignition at the same time as pushing a startup button.

As I stand in the corner, watching him, I can’t keep from quietly giggling to myself.

“What’s the joke?” he asks me.

I shake my head. “Just watching you multitask…I like it when you touch the button and the ignition together,” I say, euphemistically.

Smiling to himself, Logan pulls a huge lever and we jolt as the mechanism comes to life, raising us from the ground. It’s the beginning of a slow ascent.

“Is that what you have planned for the top floor?” I ask.

Joining me in the corner, Logan says, “I haven’t got anything planned, but it’s going to take us awhile to get there, so I’m open to hearing your suggestions.”

Awhile? “How long?” I look at him mischievously.

“We’ve got time,” he lets me know seductively, leaning into me, his face burying into my neck which he kisses.

Good, I think, and then I peer out of our mesh-cage, scouting for people, double checking that we are entirely alone. We are.

“And when we’re up there we’ll be able to watch the sun going down,” he murmurs against my skin.

I am gratifyingly reminded of a past encounter of ours, as I say, “It’s not the sun you’re going to watch going down.”

I push Logan backwards, so that his back now rests against the opposite side of the elevator, giving me some room to kneel before him. I look up at him as I do and his eyes grow wide. He may have planned to do me on the top floor, but he certainly wasn’t expecting to receive a blow job on our way up there.

My hands work hastily to undo his pants. I pull them and his boxers down just far enough to release his semi-erect penis. I toy with him in my hands for a few moments, provoking him to harden fully, as Logan gazes at me in rapture. Then after giving him a cheeky, lustful grin, I drop my hardhat onto the mesh floor, and I take his tip into my mouth and suck him hard.

He quivers against me, groaning loudly, his hands gripping the side of my head. Enjoying his reaction so much, I repeat my action, before drawing him all the way into my mouth as far as I can take him.

“Oh, baby,” he breathes. “This is…this is not…what I thought…would happen,” he manages to say, as I drive him wilder and wilder.

Logan’s arousal climbs in time with the elevator, each floor we pass bringing him closer to his release. I suck him hard, then I lick him gently, I take him in, then I let him go, winding him up amid a chorus of his encouragement.

“Ah, yes,” he groans, the sound and the feel of him jerking sensitively makes me wetter by the second.

Despite my own growing desire, I don’t stop. I continue until he’s on the brink, his hands gripping me tightly, his voice deliciously loud. With my lips over his tip, I piston him a few quick times with my hand and he falls apart, orgasming, and releasing himself into my mouth.

I swallow and then release him from my clutches, reveling in the look of unbridled satisfaction that is plastered all over his face. His whole body looks loose and relaxed despite his rapid breathing.

As I get to my feet, I become aware that the elevator has stopped moving, though I’ve no idea how long we’ve been stationary for. As Logan slumps back against the side of our mesh-cage, I lean against him and kiss his neck, like he did to me earlier. His pulse is quick under my lips as I pull his boxers and pants back up, though I don’t bother fastening them.

“Can you talk?” I ask him gleefully, immensely enjoying how overcome he is.

“Words fail me,” he pants, making my smile broaden. He kisses me deeply, letting that do the talking for him. When we eventually break apart, he mutters, “Amazing, Gemima.”

Good, I think again.

Logan’s attention then turns to the elevator door, which he unfastens and slides open. I stride out, intent on walking up to the very edge of the building to peer over the safety railings, but Logan’s arm catches me around my waist, preventing me from going any further.

“Where do you think you’re going? You need to be harnessed,” he says, pointing to the safety harnesses that lie next to the door. Oh! They are the kind of harnesses that you have to step into, which go around your legs as well as your waist, and which usually dig into your crotch. Next to them, attached to a very solid-looking pillar, lie several long safety ropes to attach to the harnesses.

“Mr. Leary, you’re full of surprises this afternoon,” I tease him.

“Me? Gemima, you just blew me on my own construction site, do you have any idea how fucking hot that is?”

I shake my head, grinning at him. “Tell me, on a scale of one to ten, how hot was it?”

“A million,” he counters quickly.

“Perfect,” I laugh happily, watching him step into his safety harness. “But, uh, baby…how are we going to have sex if we’re both wearing harnesses?” I will flat-out refuse to wear a harness that close to my crotch if I’m not wearing anything under it.

“Yours is only going to go around your waist,” he tells me, now fiddling with my harshness, his brow furrowed as he works out the logistics of it. “And I can easily get my penis out while wearing it,” he says absentmindedly.

There’s a story hidden in his last sentence, I’m instantly sure of it. Taking full advantage of his absentmindedness, I ask, “And how do you know that?”

“Well, this one time I—” he stops himself.

I try not to smile as he looks at me with wide eyes. “Yes?” I press.

“It’s kind of gross,” he warns me.

“Did you pee off the side of a building, Logan?” I guess.

Reluctantly he nods, and I laugh again.

“That is gross,” I agree with him. “And yet oddly fascinating,” I muse. “If you peed off the edge at this height, the wind could carry it for miles before it touched the ground. Your piss could cover all of Paris.” Immediately I pull a face at the thought, making Logan chuckle.

“Here you go, baby,” he says, bending over and holding out the newly adjusted harness for me to step into. It’s just one large circle and when I’m in the centre of it, Logan pulls it up to my waist before tightening it securely. Then my safety rope is attached and at last I’m free to begin exploring.

Jeez, Paris is so incredibly beautiful! The view renders me speechless. The whole of the city is visible, in a stunning three hundred and sixty degree vista, the likes of which I’ve never seen. We walk around the edge of the building, a metre in from the safety railings, taking in everything. The on-coming sunset colours the huge sky, making the marriage of both city and sky the most breathtaking thing I’ve ever laid eyes on. Except maybe the man who brought me here.

Logan has already been up here once this afternoon as is evident by the picnic that he’s laid out on the west side of the building so that we can watch the setting sun. Atop the checkered blanket, which on closer inspection is being held down by several small concrete blocks, is a cheese platter, two baguettes, a smorgasbord of dips and relishes, and one of Paris’s finest wines.