One Night in Paris: Short, Steamy Romance - Episode #2 of 4 (Stockholm Diaries, Alice)

by Rebecca Hunter

  He took a long gulp from his water glass. Alice shifted in her seat, and their knees brushed underneath the small table.

  Jonas lifted his eyes, and they were filled with heat and anger. “If I ever meet Neil, I’m going to want to punch that fucker in the face.”

  Alice bit her lip as she pictured the scene. Neil, in his suit on the Sixth Avenue sidewalk, who hadn’t see it coming. And Jonas by her side. This shouldn’t have felt as good as it did.

  WHEN ALICE RETURNED from the restroom, the plates were cleared from the table.

  Jonas was staring out the window, his brow furrowed. She slipped back in her chair, and the faraway look on his face disappeared. He smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. God, he was beautiful.

  “What’s next this evening?” he asked.

  She glanced around the little restaurant. Guests were beginning to trickle in, but the tables next to them were still empty. She sipped the last of her wine and took a deep breath. No more holding back.

  “You promised me some bedroom French,” she said.

  His eyes darkened. “And you want that now?”

  Alice nodded.

  “What do you want to learn?” His voice was lower, deeper.

  She leaned closer. “How do I say fuck me?”

  He closed his eyes and swallowed. “Baise-moi.”

  “Baise-moi,” she repeated. Then she whispered it again. “Baise-moi.”

  Her heart was doing strange things, fluttering and pounding as he opened his eyes. His gaze turned hotter, hungrier.

  “What else do you want to learn?” he groaned.

  She bit her lip. “How do you say suck my cock?”

  “Suce-moi la bite.” Jonas hissed out a breath, then laughed. “Are you going to repeat that?”

  “No.” She smiled. “I just want to understand when you say it to me.”

  He muttered something incomprehensible and reached a hand under the table. Was this getting him hard? Good. But she wasn’t done.

  “And swallow?” she whispered, drawing out the word. “How do you say swallow?”

  Jonas's gaze exploded with lust. “Avale, Alice,” he bit out. “Avale.”

  She pushed back her chair and stood up. “Ready?”

  Jonas laughed darkly. “You’re good, Alice.”

  AS THEY NEARED the Eiffel Tower, the cab driver turned, heading away from the river. She glanced at Jonas. The bulge in his pants wasn’t as noticeable anymore, but the electricity between them still sizzled high.

  At this time tomorrow, Jonas would be on a plane back to Stockholm, and she would be somewhere over the Atlantic. On Monday morning she would walk back into the office and hand her boss the translation of the first chapter of Jonas’s book as if it were any other story she had picked up from the Stockholm Book Expo. She’d tell no one about why she had rebooked her flight, and she wouldn’t leave a trail of increasingly desperate emails on her company account. It would all just disappear.

  She would sit through meetings debating which books best fit the Boars and Allen list. And this night, one of the best nights in her life, would feel as if it belonged to someone else.

  Jonas pulled her in closer, against the solid heat of his chest. The heat of his body seeped through the thin layers of clothing. They had no future, but if she could lose herself in the infinite now, maybe tomorrow it wouldn’t feel like a mistake. One more night.

  The taxi pulled over in front of a large stone building, and she opened the door into the night air. In the course of the cab ride, the sky had darkened. Wisps of purple clouds trailed across the deep red of the setting sun. The night air blew warm and heavy.

  Jonas paid for the cab, and she didn’t argue. He said something to the driver in French and joined her, slipping his large, warm hand into hers. The Eiffel Tower was nowhere in sight.

  They crossed the street and walked toward the steps between two long stone buildings. Other couples wandered on the walkway above, and the night sky shone behind them. She and Jonas were half way up the steps when she saw why they had come here. In front of them, rising up just beyond the open plaza where the steps led, the Eiffel Tower appeared, lined with lights.

  “Oh,” she whispered.

  “Amazing, right?”

  “Amazing,” she breathed. “I’ve seen tons of photos of the Eiffel Tower, but seeing it up close at night this is something special.”

  Their shoes clicked on the steps.

  “Did I thank you for dinner?” she asked. “You didn’t have to pay, you know.”

  He stopped and turned to her. “We don’t have much time left, Alice. I want to take you out, pretend you’re my girlfriend for a little longer.”

  Before she could make sense of his comment, he kissed her. He pressed his lips to hers and slipped his other hand around the back of her neck. His breath was warm on her face, and he held her for an extra beat. It wasn’t a bedroom kiss. It was almost as if he were saying goodbye.

  She swallowed back the lump in her throat and searched for something to say. “So how do you afford this kind of thing? Does your family have money?”

  “Not even close,” he said. “I get it from my books.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Most writers have a hard time making ends meet.”

  Jonas laughed. “I write a lot of books, and don’t have much to spend money on. I live in a little one-bedroom apartment a few blocks away from the pub where we met, and I don’t get out much.”

  “But you make enough to fly off to Paris on two days’ notice.”

  “Maybe I’ll have to pass up all other offers for weekends in Paris with hot women for a while.”

  Oh. She tried to smile.

  His eyes widened, and he stopped. His face turned serious. “There aren’t other weekends in Paris for me, Alice. I thought I made that clear. I spend most of my days alone. It’s better that way.”

  It’s better that way? It was the second time he had used that phrase. Was he living out his own, self-inflicted sentence? Was this why he had so bluntly ruled out seeing each other in New York?

  Alice closed her eyes. No wonder her mother couldn’t say no to her father. Her parents had known each other for most of their lives. She had only met Jonas two days ago, and already she wanted to save him. To take him away from the past. To go back to the hotel and play out his fantasies. And lose herself in her own fantasy that a man like Jonas could bring more than heartache.

  She met his gaze and smiled a little. “The Eiffel Tower is calling me.”

  Their footsteps echoed over the open plaza as more of the enormous tower came into sight. Alice slowed her steps, making each new view last longer. They crossed the plaza and the wide path between two, mirroring buildings to the top of a long stretch of steps, heading downward. At the bottom of the staircase, a long pool of water stretched out toward the Eiffel Tower. The pool was broken up by symmetrical fountains, each spray lit up against the coming darkness of the evening. The noise of the city was dulled by the buildings that wrapped around behind them.

  Jonas slipped his hands around her waist, and she let her body rest against his large chest as they gazed out at the city in front of them.

  Another couple passed them on the steps, arm in arm. The man whispering in the woman’s ear, and she laughed and kissed him. Back in New York Alice tried to ignore couples like this. Happy couples. That just wasn’t in the cards for her. But tonight it could be. She looked up at Jonas, his face glowing in all the lights.

  “This is magical, Jonas,” she whispered. Magical enough to make the impossible feel possible.

  Jonas took one step lower and turned to her. He was still taller than her but only by a little. He caressed her cheek with the backs of his fingers. He tasted her lips, so softly, with all the longing and awareness of the clock that was ticking closer and closer to the end. He tasted again and again until she closed her eyes and tangled her hands in his hair, pulling him closer. He was every
where against her, filling her senses, and still she couldn’t get close enough. His tongue swept against hers, caressing, inviting. He pulled her so tightly, lifting her to further join their bodies, and she tilted her hips into his hard erection.

  Oh, God. This was about to burst out of control, right here on the steps down to the Eiffel Tower. She broke off the kiss. The sound of her harsh breaths mingled with the city behind them. He buried his face in her neck, and she breathed in the scent of him. How could a man smell so good?

  Slowly, the rest of the world came into focus.

  “Wow,” said Jonas, his voice rough. “Getting a taste for public affection?”

  Alice bit her lip and smiled. “For tonight. One more night, right?”

  “One more night,” he echoed.

  THE HOTEL ROOM glowed in the city lights. Alice’s body hummed in awareness as she opened the French doors to the little balcony. The cool night air rushed in.

  She turned to Jonas, and he brushed the curls from her face. His thumb traced her skin.

  “So this is it,” she said softly. “This last night in Paris, and then it’s over.”

  Jonas frowned and looked away. “It has to be.”

  But what if she came back to the Stockholm Book Expo? Her mind clamored for an exception, a way to avoid the finality of their goodbye. But she wouldn’t cross any more of her own hard limits. She wouldn’t beg to see him again. Never.

  Alice searched for something less desperate to say.

  “What if Boars and Allen buys your book?” she asked. “What if you come to my office? What do we do?”

  He grimaced, as if the idea caused him physical pain. But before she could react, he slipped his hand down her neck and pulled her closer. He buried his face in her hair.

  “After you read my book, you won’t want anything to do with me,” he whispered. “So let’s make this night last.”

  His words echoed in the dark room. Was it true? How bad would the story have to be to keep her away? And did he mean that what he wrote was real? He wouldn’t answer any of these questions now, even if she asked.

  One more night.

  “Are you always like this?” she asked.

  His brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

  “With women,” she said, looking down. “I mean, I used to know a bunch of guys with your kind of past, and none of them were very… gentle.”

  He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Before I was in prison, things were different.”

  “But now you’re reformed?” she asked, smiling a little.

  He gave a wry laugh. “That’s the Swedish prison system for you.”

  He stroked her cheek and traced her eyebrows with his blunt fingertips.

  “I guess I see it this way,” he said after a moment. “Before I went in this last time, I didn’t know anything else. I was a little rougher, and I found women who wanted that, too.”

  Alice pulled out the tail of his shirt and slipped her hands onto his bare, hot skin. His muscles twitched under her fingers, and he shifted closer.

  “You sure you want to talk about this?” he asked. “Now?”

  Alice nodded.

  Jonas frowned a little. “There’s nothing soft about being in jail. But there was this librarian who worked there, and everyone lined up for a chance just to sit in the same room with her because she was a woman. She wasn’t good looking, but she was kind, like a sister you wanted to keep away from all the bad things in that place. And there she was, every week, sitting at the center of this bad shit we had done. She knew why we were in jail, and she still cared enough to show up. She still saw something worthwhile in us.”

  He ran his hand through his hair.

  “Something about that clicked,” he said quietly. “I thought maybe, when I got out, I could meet someone who might see something worthwhile in me.”

  Worthwhile? Alice blinked as he spoke these last words.

  “I don’t have a lot to give,” he said, his voice rough. “I’ve done some bad things that I can’t undo. But maybe someday I could love the right person. Maybe even be worthwhile for her.”

  He wanted someone to love. It was so simple, and with his skin under her fingers, breathing in his scent, she could pretend. For this moment, she could be that person. Alice leaned against his chest and closed her eyes.

  “And you don’t think anything like you used to do, anything…” Alice bit her lip. “rougher—you don’t think that’s what you do with the right person?”

  His whole body reacted. When she met his gaze, his eyes flared with unrestrained lust, and his hands tightened around her hips, pressing hard. He stared at her for a long, long time, his eyes on fire. What was he imagining?

  He hissed out a breath and let go.

  “I don’t think so,” he mumbled, but his eyes still flickered with hope.

  “But I’m not the right person.”

  His eyes blazed hotter. You are the right person, they said.

  No. Jonas had just told her he never wanted to see her again. How could he look at her this way now, like she was everything he had ever wanted? Nothing about this was fair. He was hitting every tender spot she had. Weakening her resolve not to ask for more. She had had enough.

  If he was setting the boundaries for what happened after Paris, she was setting the rules for tonight.

  She took a deep breath. “Remember back in Stockholm, the very first time when you…?” Now or never. “You held me down. Hard.”

  Jonas froze, his eyes full of fear. “I’d never do anything you don’t want, Alice.”

  “I know, Jonas,” she whispered. “I’m talking about what turned me on.”

  Jonas worked his jaw, and his eyes were dark and unreadable. The pulse at the base of his neck pounded. “What do you want?”

  Alice swallowed hard. “I want to see what happens if I struggle a little.”

  His breath was quick and harsh. He turned his head away and ran his hand through his hair. “Not a good idea.”

  “That doesn’t turn you on?” She bit her lip. “How did you put it? Sex that feels like fighting.”

  He shook his head, but his hips rocked into hers, his erection throbbing. Two different answers.

  “You’re lying,” she said.

  Jonas bit out a few incomprehensible words.

  “I just want to try,” she said, her words coming out faster. “Nothing too rough. I can let you know, a safe word or—”

  “No.” he hissed, his eyes hard. “We’re not going anywhere near safe words. If you ever tell me no, we stop. That’s not negotiable.”

  She blinked, her heart galloping faster. “Does that mean you’ll try?”

  “I don’t know.”

  The noise from the street echoed through the room.

  “Maybe just the French phrases from the restaurant?” she whispered.

  He groaned, lust burning in his eyes, but he didn’t move.

  “I want to try this, Jonas. Just once.” She paused. “I’d rather it be with you.”

  Buried in this comment was the kind of manipulation she had sworn she’d never use. The hint that if he turned her down, she’d do it with someone else.

  “That’s not playing fair, Alice,” he bit out. He let out a long sigh of resignation. Then he gave her a hint of a smile, dark and intense. “Fuck, you make me hard.”

  He grabbed her hand and pressed it against his erection. Slowly, he moved her hand down his long length, pressing harder than she would have on her own. He bent down and whispered, “You sure you want to start this?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then get on your knees,” he said, his voice a little colder. “Suce-moi la bite.”

  He stared at her, unguarded, raw, ravenous. This was a glimpse at the other Jonas, the one he kept on a short leash. Oh, God. She got on her knees, her fingers fumbling with his belt. His huge length pressing against his zipper, demanding. Did she trust this si
de of him, too? Her eyes darted up to meet his, and his gaze softened a little. Yes, she did.

  She unbuttoned his jeans and carefully lowered the zipper. What a view of him she had gotten earlier in the day. Now she’d get an even closer look.

  “Take it out,” he hissed, the coldness back in his voice.

  She lowered his boxers over his hips and wrapped her fingers around him. Straining, he thrust into her hand and groaned. He reached for his shirt. Tearing at the buttons, he ripped it off and pulled his t-shirt over his head.

  “I want to watch this,” he said, his voice heavy with desire. “I want to watch you suck me off.”

  His word sent a shock of lust through her. Somewhere inside, warning lights went off. She was breaking all her promises to herself. This was the kind of man who would ruin her, make her want everything she couldn’t have. But she was too curious, too turned on to stop.

  His tip glistened, and she ran her tongue over it.

  “That’s right,” he hissed. “Now suck me.”

  She angled his erection and took him into her mouth. He let out a long string of foreign words, so she pulled back and did it again. Groans of pleasure filled the room as she explored him with her tongue, her lips. Her teeth scraped lightly over his tender skin, and he let out a cry somewhere between pain and ecstasy.

  She stopped and met his eyes, fiery and alive. She wanted to see this man unravel. She wanted to make Jonas lose control.

  “Keep going,” he growled.

  He took a handful of her hair and guided her back over him, this time faster. The rumble from deep in his chest pushed her on. She, Alice, was going to make this man fall apart.

  But he stopped. His grip on her hair loosened, and he muttered something to himself. He pulled out of her mouth, his face twisted in a grimace that bordered on pain.

  “You do like that, don’t you.” His voice came out in raspy growls. “You want bring me to my knees.”

  She stared up at him. Yes, that’s exactly what she wanted. And he wasn’t going to give that to her.

  He scooped her up and guided her to the bed, positioning her right on the edge. He pushed up her dress and tugged her panties down to her knees.