“I’ll be there for sure. Once again, Kayla, thank you so very much for this outrageous opportunity.”
“I know you’ll do us proud.”
“Damn right I will.”
I hang up, still in a state of utter shock at my good fortune. When my feet touch the ground again and I take note of the time on my phone, I panic. Jerome Ducasse, Nikolaj’s driver, must be waiting for me. When I check my messages, he’s been trying to reach me. Shit. Nikolaj arranged his schedule so we would arrive in Paris within an hour of each other and I wonder if he’s already landed. I’m just about to call Jerome when I notice several text messages from Tanner.
“Oh, God, what now?” I mumble.
As I scroll down the eight messages Tanner sent in the last two hours, my anxiety mounts. I can’t believe he has so many more questions. I know I should get back to him, but there’s a part of me that just doesn’t want to deal with any of this right now, so I ignore it.
Tanner Blass is the sought-after planner I hired to help me with my New York wedding. After witnessing so many of my friends, cousins, colleagues and peers being swept away in blissful joy by the multiple little details surrounding creating a fairytale day, I thought I’d be as excited as they were, but after a few weeks of debating over wedding themes, menu options, the paper weight for our wedding invitations and which Manhattan venue would accommodate our large extended families, I threw in the towel and I hired a guy who has the Midas touch for turning your big day into a memorable affair.
I nearly passed out at his steep fees. Sure, both of my fathers are picking up the bill for this wedding, but still, that’s a lot of money to pay. In the end it was either pay or suck it up, handle things on my own and stop complaining.
Once I make the decision to ignore Tanner, I dial our chauffeur.
“Jerome, it’s me. I’m very sorry I missed your call. I was on the other line with one of my clients and I lost track of time. I hope you haven’t been waiting for too long.”
“Madame, like always, I’m entirely at your disposal. I’m just outside and if you let me know which exit is the closest to you I’ll come and pick you up.”
“Has Mr. von Henningsen landed?” Just the mention of his name makes my heart skip a beat.
“Indeed, he arrived about three hours ago.”
“He’s already here?”
“He left Dubai earlier and from what I can understand, travel conditions were in his favor, madame.”
“Is he waiting for me in the car?”
“I drove Mr. von Henningsen into the city. He had something very important to attend to. He says he’ll meet you at the flat.”
Jerome is ‘un français de souche.’ That’s how the French refer to those who can trace their roots all the way back to Napoleon Bonaparte and the Battle of Waterloo. That said, since our chauffeur gladly embraces Shakespeare’s tongue—he was employed by dignitaries stationed in London for many years—he’s been able to work for some very wealthy expats and people like Nikolaj who just love having a pied-à-terre, a temporary second residence, in Paris.
“Thanks for letting me know. I can’t wait to get home.”
“I’d like to believe that traffic will be manageable, but let’s not kid ourselves, madame, it’s a quarter past six on a weekday and everyone is rushing home after a strenuous day.”
“I know, Jerome. I’ll have to find a way of keeping myself busy for the next hour or so.”
“I’m afraid it’s the only way for the trip to be bearable.”
As much as I like the French, they’re not the most positive people on the planet and Parisians are notorious for feeding on the doom and gloom.
“Do you know when you’re due to pick up Mr. von Henningsen to bring him home?”
“He hasn’t confirmed yet, madame.”
“Right. Thank you. I guess I’ll just have to be patient.”
After twelve days apart, I look forward to sleeping in his arms tonight.
* * *
There are many perks of having a chauffeur in Paris. After years of watching rich businesspeople and socialites whiz by at the back of their luxury cars while someone else focused on dealing with the treacherous New York traffic, I finally get it. I must admit there’s something special about having your own driver at your beck and call.
After admiring the city of lights for half of my long ride from the airport to Nikolaj’s apartment, I decide to answer emails, but after a few minutes, I give up. I had intentions of getting some work done, but even after six months of coming here on a regular basis, I can never get enough of soaking in the sultry city. New York truly comes alive at night, but when the sun sets, there’s an incomparable mellow mood that blankets Paris that you’ll never find in any other place in the world. I can’t believe I get to live here whenever I want.
I’ve tried texting and calling Nik, but for some reason, I’m unable to reach him. I keep getting his voicemail. I guess he’s still dealing with whatever important matter he had to attend to. I hope he doesn’t come back home too late. I can’t wait for his lips to flirt with mine again.
I’m absolutely wiped out by my intense week and I’m grateful the housekeeper will have stocked up the fridge. I crave three things right now—a light and simple dinner, a spectacular bottle of wine and the company of the man I love.
I barely have time to open the door to my Parisian residence before Jerome has already dropped my luggage in the foyer. Before I even have time to thank him, his hand is already on the doorknob and he’s ready to make his way back to the elevator.
When I enter the apartment, I freeze. I’m baffled as I take in the magical scenery. What’s going on? All my senses are tantalized at once. The dim lights set a seductive ambience that immediately relaxes me, the aroma traveling from the kitchen engulfs me and the music seeping from the ceiling speakers serenades me.
Is that Annie Lennox singing I Put a Spell On You? “Someone is sending me a message,” I whisper to myself. Damn, that song is outrageously sexy.
As much as I hate being away from Nik for this long, when we finally are together, it’s usually explosive. He’s been hinting that I should expect him to be particularly feral because he’s missed me like crazy. If you do the math, we’ve been apart for over a month. Sure, we were able to be together for a few days in Barcelona to celebrate my parents’ wedding, but before that we hadn’t seen each other in so long. Although Dubai and Berlin are only eight hours apart, his schedule has been so insane we weren’t even able to be together last weekend.
I expected him to pounce on me the second he sees me, but when he pours on the romance like this before ravishing me, all bets are off the table. He knows perfectly well I haven’t got a chance in hell of resisting him. How am I ever going to be able to walk tomorrow morning?
“Nik, where are you?”
I take a few steps towards the kitchen to peek inside the oven and find out what the chef has prepared, but I do a double-take when something vibrant and colorful lying on the wood floor catches my attention. Jesus, he’s gone all out. I haven’t got a clue how I missed it, but a trail of yellow petals leads from the apartment all the way to the sprawling deck. What has he done?
I immediately forget about the food and follow the yellow trail. The second I take a step forward the fragrance of the flowers lying at my feet tickles my nostrils. My God. When I push open the glass doors, I’m taken aback. The petals lead all the way to a table on the deck that has been dressed for the occasion. It’s sitting under a white tent. Small candles set in square frosted holders line the floor. My eyes bounce from one to another and I realize how beautifully they surround the deck, illuminating the area. This is seduction at its best.
Although the sky has changed into a chatoyant collage of warm shades of color, it’s still quite balmy on this summer night. Luckily, Nikolaj has the entire top floor of this renovated historic building. At this altitude, the breeze is the only salvation to offset the heat.
My love aff
air with Nikolaj surpasses every single one of my fantasies and many I didn’t even know I had. Although he’s a busy man at the helm of a multibillion-dollar business, he always manages to surprise me in the most unusual and unexpected way.
“Welcome home, sweetness.”
I spin on my heels when I hear his warm chocolatey voice and it’s only then I notice he’s already naked in the outside shower. I’ve been so focused on the discovery and Annie Lennox’s melody I didn’t even hear the water running.
“Nikolaj?”
“Who else did you expect?” He flashes a disarming smile. Although the frosted glass conceals a lot, it still allows me to indulge in a magnificent sight—the delineation of his Adonis body. “I’ve missed you so much, love.”
I take a few steps closer to him. “Is this why you came back home early?” When I peek inside the shower his semi-erect cock greets me. “How did you manage to time this so well considering I was trapped in traffic and it took half an hour longer for me to get here?”
“Jerome is extremely well paid, therefore very loyal. That and he texted me thirty minutes ago to let me know you were close.” Nikolaj winks.
Those blue eyes are irresistible.
“You’re so sneaky.”
His grin widens into one of the wickedest and most carnal smiles I have ever seen from him. My core coils and I tense to stifle my desire. “I prefer to consider myself resourceful.”
I can’t help but smile and roll my eyes. “All this for me?” I extend my arms out and pivot in a three-hundred-sixty-degree circle, amazed by how far he’s willing to go to show me how much he loves me.
“Seducing you is always top on my list and takes precedence over anything else. I left Martin behind to deal with the last few meetings in Dubai. He doesn’t mind since Eloise is flying in to spend a few days with him. I had to get out of there and hop on my jet, desperate to be with the woman who occupies my every thought.” He grins, combing his fingers through his wet hair.
Holy shit, he’s delicious.
“You melt my insides when you say things like this.”
“I only say it because I mean it. Get closer so I can taste those lips.” He grabs hold of the shower door and slams his body against it. I pucker up and extend my lips to him. He kisses me with such tenderness I’m forced to close my hands over his for support. What he ignites in my soul depletes me of the energy I need to stand on my own two feet.
“I’ve missed you so much.” The words come out heavy when it hits me how much my body craves his.
“Good.” He narrows his eyes and licks his lips. Uh-oh. What now? “Ready to be fucked, love?”
“Wh-what?”
Well, that tender moment was short-lived.
“Let me repeat myself just in case I wasn’t clear the first time around. Ready. To. Be. Fucked?”
Each word is like a projectile shooting straight to my pussy. “Out here?” I take a few steps back, never leaving his fiery gaze.
Since we’ve been engaged, Nikolaj and I have been back to this Paris apartment many times, but until now it’s been way too cool to enjoy the pleasures of this opulent deck. I really should call it an oasis considering it comes with an outdoor shower, hot tub and gas barbecue and it’s surrounded by very high bushes and an elegantly designed cedar wood fence. When I first ventured out here a few month ago, I was curious to find out why Nikolaj had spent so much effort on building an outdoor playground he rarely uses. That’s when he revealed he had the former owner to thank for this extravagance. Before Nikolaj scooped up this huge apartment for a bargain, it belonged to a young twenty-something ultra-rich Russian. The kid never worked a day in his life, but he was exceptionally well-versed at spending his father’s billions.
“Why is it that whenever I suggest sex outdoors, you’re so surprised, but when you bring it up, it’s a smashing idea?”
“It’s not that.”
“What is it, then?”
“It’s just that when you suggest anything, I never know how far you’re willing to push the envelope. You’re the one who’s always in control and I never know what you have up your sleeve.”
“You like me in control.” Do I ever. “You love submitting to my kinkiest fantasies and you’ve never complained before. Why start now?”
“Who said I was complaining? You simply caught me off guard.” I curl up my lips in a smile.
Nik glides his eyes over my body and takes me in from head to toe.
“You look fucking amazing, love. I’d pay good money to have your long, sculpted legs over my shoulders with those bad-girl shoes still on your feet as I pump the hell out of you.”
“If you like the shoes so much, I could keep them on in the shower.”
These striped black and white Christian Louboutins are outrageously high and the ankle straps only add to the sexiness of the shoes, but when combined with this black pencil skirt that’s as tight as a second skin, it takes the fuck-me factor to a whole other level.
“Trust me, those are dangerously tempting and under any other circumstances I’d petition for you to keep them on as your wet pussy swallows my dick, but they won’t work for what I have in mind.”
Jesus, his mouth.
“Should I be worried, Mr. von Henningsen?”
“Very. Now get naked and get your fine ass in here.” He flashes me a grin, his chuckle full of naughty undertones.
I take a step back to ditch my clothing as fast as humanly possible when Beyoncé’s Haunted starts playing. I narrow my eyes and shake my head in amazement.
“You’ve stopped at nothing, haven’t you?”
“For the woman who stole my heart? Nope. Tonight is about showing you how much I’ve missed you. Now stop talking and hurry. My cock is waiting.”
My fingers quicken to unbutton my sheer fuchsia-pink blouse and before it even hits the floor, I’ve already unzipped my skin-tight skirt. I let it pool to my feet and step out of it, fully aware of his carnal stare.
“Damn, woman. Your underwear collection will give me a heart attack one of these days.”
“What? Did you think after not seeing you for twelve days I would come home unarmed?”
I’ll admit this insanely sexy matching hot-pink lace combo from Agent Provocateur is an unfair advantage. What can I say? I know exactly which buttons to push.
“Touché. Get rid of the shoes and leave the underwear on. I’ll take care of removing it.”
“Oh, baby, these are expensive. You can’t rip them off of me.” The minute the plea escapes my lips I know I’m wasting my time.
He casts upon me a dark and disapproving stare. “Ciara, don’t make me wait any longer.” He opens the glass door, revealing a monster erection I’m already dying to jump. It’s as if every time we’re apart, his cock grows by an inch.
I kick off my heels and run on my tiptoes towards him. He reaches out, grabs me around my waist, lifts me and sets me in the shower with him. “I need to be inside you.”
The water and his deep laugh drown out my startled yelp. With hurried hands, he unhooks my bra and flings it out of the shower. He flirts with my hardening nipples, sliding his hands down my stomach until he reaches my underwear. He grips my panties and looks down at me, waiting for my reaction.
Oh, well, there goes two hundred dollars. “You know you want to rip them,” I whisper. “Mr. von Henningsen, being in a relationship with you is putting a strain on my lingerie budget.”
“It’s your fault. I can’t help myself when I’m around you. I’ve never been this raw or primal with any other woman before, but it feels so right with you.” He yanks apart the sheer material of my underwear so easily you’d think my panties were made of paper. He lets them drop to the shower floor.
“Ha.”
“Remind me to buy you another pair.” His eyes are dangerous. He runs a finger down my cheek. We lock eyes and the heat that emanates from his rock-solid body nearly has me swooning. He grabs the mesh pouf hanging from the shower caddy, pours wi
ld argan oil shower gel all over it and zooms in his focus on me. Without asking for permission he starts washing me, running his hands over my arms, my shoulders and my breasts. He gives extra attention to my boobs with a cocky grin. “Fuck, I missed your tits.”
“You do realize I took a shower before leaving Berlin?”
“This has nothing to do with your cleanliness. It has everything to do with my need to seek pleasure.” He flashes me a devilish smile.
“So it’s all about you?”
“Something tells me you’re enjoying this as much as I am.” His touch is dizzying. Giving up on any desire to fight him, I run my hands up his chest to his neck and I push my tummy against his erection. “Case in point.” He knows full well I can never get enough of his cock. His eyes crinkle. “Do you mind returning the favor?” He hands me the soap.
With my arms around him, I scrub his muscular back and his firm butt, each movement rubbing my nipples against his chest. The friction from his hair sends titillating tingles through me straight to my eager pussy.
“Mmmm.” When Nikolaj tilts his head back I know I’m not the only one in a trance. “My turn again.” He brings his gaze back to me and opens the palm of his hand, asking for the pouf back. His hands glide straight to my ass and he spends way too long washing my bottom, massaging my cheeks, and sliding a probing finger down my crack. Stepping back, I wash his front, lingering on his chiseled chest, reaching out for his flat nipples and playing with them. “Not fair.”
“Something tells me you’re enjoying this as much as I am.” I grin, turning his words against him. No matter how many times I see him naked, I’m always in awe of his perfect anatomy. His pecs flex as I slowly slide my hands down his body, lingering on each side of his V muscles until I reach the ultimate prize—his rock-hard cock.
“You want it, don’t you?”
Always & Forever Page 5
