A French Affair

by Lucy Felthouse

  ‘Yes, ma’am, I think I do. Just as soon as we’ve eaten this and I’ve phoned my little monsters, I’m all yours.’

  Various parts of her reacted to his words. Her body stirred at the implication of their words – she figured she wouldn’t be going back to the barn that night. Her heart swelled because, even though their conversation was distracting, bordering on the erotic, he didn’t, not for one minute, forget his children. She hoped to become as important to him as they were. Not to compete with or replace them, hell no, but to be … dare she say it? … part of the family. She didn’t have much experience with children of any age, but for him, she’d do her absolute best to make friends with them and have them accept her as their father’s girlfriend. Maybe more than that, one day.

  She shook her head. She shouldn’t attempt to run before she could walk. There was plenty to work out between the two of them before it even got to the stage where she’d meet Marcus and Roxanne, let alone be a part of their lives more permanently. In an attempt to avoid further conversation – mainly because she didn’t know what to say – she tucked into her meal with relish, merely exchanging the odd smile and glance with Harry until she was done eating.

  When he was finished too, she offered to clean up. ‘Let me do this while you go and talk to the kids. It’ll give you some privacy.’

  ‘I’m looking after you, remember?’

  ‘Yes, and you’ve done a fantastic job so far, but I’d like to give something back, if you don’t mind.’

  ‘OK. But I just want you to know that I don’t need privacy. I really hope you’re going to meet them soon, and in the not-too-distant future.’

  ‘Me too,’ she said, moving out of her chair to stand next to him. Pressing a kiss to the top of his head, she continued, ‘I just hope they like me.’

  ‘They will. They have good taste, just like their father.’

  ‘I hope you’re right.’

  ‘I am. Now stop worrying. Are you sure you don’t mind doing this?’

  ‘Of course not. It’s not exactly hard work. You’ve got a dishwasher!’

  Harry laughed as he stood up. ‘That’s true. Well, just come through into the living room when you’re done. Please don’t feel like you’ve got to wait out here until I’m done talking with them.’

  ‘OK, I will. And I’ll bring more wine.’

  Harry took her hand and tugged her towards him. Enveloping her in a huge hug, he loosened his grip only to lean down and capture her lips with his. The kiss was smoking hot and laden with meaning and intent, and when he finally pulled away, Sydney found herself blinking rapidly, her mind and body in severe danger of going into meltdown.

  ‘See you soon,’ Harry said quietly, pressing a much more chaste kiss onto her lips, before turning and heading into the front room.

  Sydney’s response was to move over to the sink as fast as her shaky legs would carry her, turn on the tap, and splash cold water onto her face. She really needed a chill between her legs as well as on her face, but she wasn’t about to be caught in that kind of bizarre position in someone else’s house. Even if that someone was the reason she was all hot and bothered in the first place.

  As much as she hated herself for thinking it, she hoped he wouldn’t be on the phone for long. She had serious needs. Ones she wanted Harry, and only Harry, to see to.

  Chapter Eleven

  Sydney didn’t know whether she was delighted or terrified at the prospect of Harry coming back out of the en suite bathroom. Once he’d finished talking to his children on the telephone, he had halted her lustful advances with a serious conversation. The gravity of his tone had dampened down her arousal and she’d listened to his words and responded with some of her own. The sum of their words amounted to a little of what they’d said before, and also some fresh thoughts. Mainly that Harry wanted – at some point – for her to move in with him in Cambridge. He wouldn’t take his children away from their school and their friends, which was the only reason he wasn’t offering to move up to Wolverhampton to be with her. There were still several years to go before it was up to the children to make their own decisions and start their adult lives, and Harry knew he was asking her for a lot – to make such a big change and be uprooted from her own life.

  He’d also said he didn’t want her to respond to what he was saying. He wanted her to take it all in and think about it in her own time. The last thing he wanted was to put pressure on her and upset her or scare her away. She appreciated that. It was something that had crossed her mind more than once over the past couple of days, and she’d shoved the thoughts away, determined to try and have fun and not worry about the future. She knew the worry would come, though, and it would come soon.

  On top of all that, she couldn’t help thinking about how crazy the entire situation was. They barely knew one another! Granted, she knew his full name, date of birth, his children’s names, the cause of his wife’s death, some of his hobbies, and so on. But she didn’t know what his favourite colour was, and, now that she thought of it, she couldn’t even remember if he’d told her what he did for a living. It was total insanity to know so little about someone yet be contemplating moving over a hundred miles to be with them. It was hardly moving to another country or continent, but it was still a bloody long way to go if it wasn’t going to work out between them.

  The click of the bathroom door pulled her from the maelstrom of thoughts. Harry was clearly much happier about the situation than she was – or he was just better at hiding it – because the grin on his face and the almost predatory way he approached her indicated that he was ready to reconvene what she’d attempted to begin downstairs, before their talk.

  His hair was damp and he wore nothing but a towel around his waist. She had to admit, it was a good look for him, and one that was doing a damn good job of chasing the difficult thoughts from her head. They disappeared entirely when he dropped the towel.

  ‘See anything you like, Miss Tyler?’ His pale eyes glinted with mischief.

  Instead of responding with words, Sydney reached down and pulled off her socks, then made short work of removing the rest of her clothes. She shuffled backwards up the bed so her head was resting on the plump pillows, then she crooked her finger and beckoned him.

  ‘I’ll take that as a yes,’ Harry said, climbing onto the bed and moving up to her. Instead of getting right up to the pillows and positioning himself beside her, though, he stopped at her feet. Grabbing her ankles, he pushed them apart then crawled up between her legs. He lightly trailed his fingers across her skin, and when he got to her inner thighs, he elicited a pleasurable shudder.

  ‘I’ve been wanting to do this all day,’ he said, lying down on his stomach and then pushing her legs further apart to reveal her spread and already slick pussy. ‘You, my sweetheart, have a delicious pussy, and I am very much looking forward to tasting it again.’

  He wasted no more time on words, instead burying his head in her crotch and letting out a loud and guttural moan of satisfaction as his tongue dipped between her folds and tasted her juices. He murmured something against her skin. She wasn’t 100 per cent sure, but it sounded something like ‘God, you taste so fucking good.’ His actions certainly gave that impression, very clearly, even if his words had been muffled. He licked and sucked at her cunt with relish – not to mention extreme skill – and, before long, she grew incredibly close to climax.

  Her hands fisted in the sheets as he teased and pleasured her. When he pulled her swollen bud into his mouth and sucked on it, she quickly went over the edge, jerking, pulsating, and calling his name over and over. Lights flashed behind her eyelids and it took a few seconds for her to realise that Harry was speaking to her.

  ‘Sydney. Sydney. I’d really like to fuck you now, if you don’t object.’

  She shook her head rapidly, then realised that might be misconstrued. Clearing her throat, she told him, ‘No, I definitely don’t object.’

  He entered her with no further preamble, his shaft slipp
ing easily deep inside her. Then, surprising her, he reached for her, then manoeuvred them both until he was kneeling on the bed, his bottom resting on the backs of his legs, with her sitting atop him.

  ‘I – I can’t move yet,’ she said breathlessly. ‘J-just give me a minute.’

  ‘You don’t need to move,’ he replied, kissing the nearest patch of skin, which happened to be her breast. ‘Just hang on tight.’

  She quickly wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his back. And not a moment too soon, for then he started to move and proved that he had the fitness and strength of a man many years his junior. He pumped up into her, fast and hard, causing her to bounce up and down on him like a rag doll. The angle their bodies were at drove him deep inside her, the tip of his cock brushing against her cervix with every move.

  ‘Unh.’ Harry’s face screwed up in concentration. ‘It seems I’m still out of practice at this – because I really want to come.’

  A breathless giggle escaped Sydney’s lips. ‘Well, you’re more than welcome to practice on me.’

  ‘I’m glad to hear it.’ With that, they both stopped talking. The only sounds they made were the sexy sounds of fucking. Panting, moaning, groaning, growling.

  Soon, Sydney’s second climax took over her. She stiffened, the dead weight she provided making it even harder work for Harry. But she couldn’t help it. This orgasm was even more powerful than the first, and her walls clenched powerfully around her lover’s shaft. He let out a series of expletives and strangled moans before joining her in bliss.

  ‘Fuck!’ he said, gently lowering her onto the pillows, then curling up beside her. ‘That was … I dunno … I’m speechless.’

  ‘There’s a first time for everything,’ she said sleepily, getting a playful jab in the ribs in response.

  ‘Cheeky mare. You’re lucky I like you.’ He slipped his arm beneath her head and she happily rested it on his shoulder. Despite his quick words, his hormones and the exertion overtook him, and before long his breathing changed, signalling that he’d succumbed to sleep.

  Sydney longed to do the same. She felt dog tired – a combination of several hours at the computer, her mind and her fingers working away, the short walk, the heavy conversation and the considerable sex they’d just had. Sleep was exactly what the doctor ordered right at that moment. And yet, it eluded her. She wanted to toss and turn and try to force slumber to come, but she couldn’t, wouldn’t. She’d disturb Harry. It had been a while since she’d shared a bed with someone, so she hadn’t had to consider her fidgeting for some time.

  She moved her head slowly to look up at his face. He, much to her satisfaction, looked happy, content. But he had just had sex, so it was to be expected, she decided.

  She closed her eyes. Then, as minds are wont to do, hers wandered rapidly over a number of random subjects. The first one of any consequence was Harry, and their current situation. Given their earlier chat, she was pretty sure they were on the same wavelength. They weren’t going to commit until they’d spent more time together, made sure that what was between them could last longer than a fortnight in a foreign country. Made sure that it wasn’t just a fling, a holiday romance, a French affair.

  Sydney hoped not. It made her feel totally and utterly unhinged for feeling this way so soon, but she was pretty sure she was falling for him. That’s why it was sensible that – sex aside – they’d take things slowly. The last thing she wanted was another failed relationship and a broken heart.

  That wasn’t her only concern, though. Although her feelings for him were powerful, and she knew he was very fond of her too – he had to be, to suggest what he had – she couldn’t help but wonder if she could make him happy. She hadn’t given birth to Marcus and Roxanne, and he’d always have that part of his late wife there, as a reminder. Could she live up to the legacy of a dead woman? Could she be a good enough partner? A good enough wife? Or would he, weeks or months down the line, realise he’d made a terrible mistake and that she could never compare to Shelly, the woman he’d loved with his entire heart, body and soul, and continued to do even after she was no longer of this world?

  ‘Hey,’ he said quietly, making her jump. ‘Are you all right?’

  She was glad that the room had darkened since they’d curled up together, the sun long past the horizon. ‘I’m fine, why?’

  ‘Your breathing was heavy and fast. It sounded like you were really stressed out about something. Were you dreaming?’

  ‘No. I haven’t been to sleep.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘I couldn’t drop off.’

  He repeated his previous question, then added, ‘Do you want to talk about it?’

  ‘About what?’

  He stroked her hair. ‘About whatever’s bothering you. And please don’t lie. I’ve been around the block a few times. Even in the pitch black I can tell when there’s something bothering someone.’

  Sydney let out a heavy sigh. ‘My mind’s just been going crazy.’

  ‘Tell me.’

  She did. Not about the silly, inconsequential things, of course. But about the things that really mattered. The things that apparently made her breathing pattern change and disturb his sleep.

  By the time she finished, Harry had slipped from beneath her and switched on the bedside lamp. He tugged the covers from under their bodies and threw them over the top, covering her up, then gathering her to him and holding her tight.

  ‘Listen to me, sweetheart. I can’t stop you thinking those things. I know I can’t, and it drives me crazy. But I guess I can understand why you’re thinking them. It’s different when a wife or a husband dies to when they separate or divorce. And I’ve always been up front with you about the way I felt about Shelly. But you have to remember that when I removed my wedding ring, I also threw away the part of me that was clinging onto the past. She’s gone, she’ll always be gone. But equally, a part of her lives on in Marcus and Roxanne and in our hearts and memories.’

  He paused.

  ‘But that’s nothing for you to worry about. I can’t wipe her out, I wouldn’t want to. But what I do want to do is spend the rest of my life with you. Create more memories together. Me and you. Hopefully one day, the kids too. As a family. Maybe even have a kid or two of our own. Sydney, I know it’s been a ridiculously short amount of time, but you’ve stolen my heart. Really made me want to move on, to be with someone else. To be happy. I don’t want to scare the shit out of you, but I think I’m falling for you. It’s been so long that I’ve almost forgotten what it feels like. But I’m pretty sure that’s what’s happening.’

  A tear slipped from the corner of Sydney’s eye and rolled down the side of her face and into the pillow beneath her head. She wasn’t quite sure why she’d begun to cry, but she figured it was happiness, not sadness, that was inspiring such emotion in her. So she decided to let it be. Happiness was to be embraced, encouraged, and she hoped that she’d find a great deal more of it with Harry.

  ‘I’m falling for you too, Harry.’

  ‘Well,’ he said, holding her tighter and shifting so his lips were just millimetres from hers, ‘thank fuck for that.’

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