“Really?”
He smiled and offered his hand. “I would be honored to escort such a beautiful woman around the Louvre.”
Gwen couldn’t refuse the opportunity to get to know Pierre more. Her body would hate her if she did. She placed her hand in his.
He closed his fingers around hers and guided her away from the painting. “I hope you don’t mind, but I followed you from the stairs.”
She walked slowly next to him. “I’m really sorry for—”
“Please”—he held up his free hand—“no more apologies. Perhaps our meeting was fate.”
Fate? Gwen didn’t believe in such a thing. She did believe in opportunities and when they revealed themselves, they were worth taking. Meeting Phillip on the plane and joining the mile high club was a prime example.
“Do you live and work here in Paris?” she asked.
“Yes. I’m in the Entertainment business.” He stopped and turned to the wall. “And while I admire the work of the artists who created all these masterpieces, they never portray bodies accurately. Women have small breasts and men have small penises. Here is a perfect example.”
Gwen pressed her lips together to prevent the laughter from bursting free. Once she gained control of her humorous side, she said, “A large cock might take the focus off the rest of the picture.”
“Yes, but it would reflect realism and how the man truly feels.” Pierre gently squeezed her hand.
“Maybe the artist thought it would offend others of his era.” Gwen shrugged.
“A man should be proud of his manhood when he’s excited by a woman.” He met her gaze. “I am.”
Gwen realized her mouth was hanging open and shut it. Did he confess he had a hard-on? She glanced down. Unfortunately, his dark pants hid any sign of an erection.
“Would you prefer me to have a small penis if I were in this picture? Would you not rather see the real thing?”
Her face felt as if it were on fire. “I’d much rather see the true shape.”
He moved closer to her. “You wouldn’t be disappointed.”
“I believe that.” She stared into his blue eyes while her panties grew wetter. The man had sex appeal she couldn’t resist.
He lifted his free hand and traced his fingers down her arm. A chill raced through her, hardening her nipples and sending erotic tingles to her apex.
“You are a work of beauty. Dare I say I would enjoy marveling at your body? I would enjoy…”
He turned his head without finishing his sentence. Three ladies stood several feet away, whispering and watching Gwen and Pierre. They all had dark hair, yet two were younger. The oldest was fishing inside her purse as if she were searching for something.
Pierre sighed. “I must go.” He dug inside his inner jacket.
“Are your escorting services over?” Gwen looked at the women, then Pierre. Confusion gnawed at her.
“For now. But I will return. I promise.” He handed a small business card to Gwen.
She took the small paper and glanced at it. To her surprise, she found the word ‘actor’ under his name.
“You’re an actor?” she asked.
“Yes. Do you have a number?”
Gwen shoved her hand into her bag and snatched a pen. The women’s cackling drew the attention of another young couple in the room. Realizing she had little time, she used the back of the card Pierre had given her and wrote her cell phone number on it. If the man truly wanted to marvel at her body, he’d contact her.
“Here.” She returned the paper to him. “I’d like you to finish that sentence sometime.”
The thumps of shoes moving closer stole their gazes. The three women were walking toward them.
Pierre bent to kiss her cheek, then her ear. “I will. Don’t leave.”
He walked away before she could draw in another breath.
The three women stopped and watched as Pierre disappeared from the gallery. Their bright smiles faded and the two younger ladies turned to the oldest.
Gwen sighed heavily. She wished Pierre could’ve stayed with her longer. He seemed nice. Although she knew nothing about him other than he was an actor, she couldn’t resist his appeal. She had a few more nights in Paris. Why not enjoy at least one with a hot and irresistible man? Pierre fit the description perfectly.
The three females walked toward Gwen. They were dressed nicely, in skirts and blouses, not the type to cause trouble. Their eyes were wide with curiosity as they approached.
“I’m sorry but I don’t speak French,” Gwen said as they came to a stop.
The older lady pointed to the door. “Are you a friend of his?” she asked in English.
Gwen shook her head. “No. I just met him. He told me his name, but I didn’t get to know him.”
The woman smiled. “He’s a big actor. TV. Movies. Big. We love him. My daughters and I.”
“He’s very popular in Paris?” Gwen asked rather than said with her eyebrows raised.
She waved her hand in the air. “All over France. Was he nice?”
“Yes, he was.”
The younger ladies smiled. The mother looked at her daughters and the same pleasantry appeared on her face.
“Excuse me, my time is limited in Paris,” Gwen said.
The mom gave a nod and ushered her girls away.
Gwen walked toward the open doorway where Pierre had disappeared. She hoped she’d run into him again soon, but understood if she didn’t in the museum. Looking at art was more exciting with him.
She entered the next room and eyed the paintings. After she’d finished checking them all out, she stepped into the hall then entered the next exhibit. Seconds later, she felt a small vibration from her purse. She hurried to withdraw her cell. A glance at the screen revealed the message.
Are you alone?
She twisted to see if anyone else was nearby. No one was. She stole a glimpse at her phone again. The number from the sender was unfamiliar to her. She recalled the odd numbers on Pierre’s card and recognized the first couple of digits. As she typed a response, she hoped she was communicating with Pierre.
I am.
Gwen held her phone in her hand and at her side in case someone walked into the room. The rules of the museum stated no cell phone usage. She didn’t plan to take any pictures or make any calls. As long as nobody saw her, or Pierre, then they should be safe. Clearly he must have thought the same thing since he sent her a message.
Her phone vibrated, calling her attention to it.
Shall I finish my sentence now?
Gwen smiled. Desire stirred within her as she typed her reply to him.
Yes. Tell me what you would enjoy doing to my body.
Chapter Two
Gwen held her phone at her side while she faced the paintings on the wall. She tried to take in the full talent and wonder of the artwork, but her thoughts were elsewhere as she waited for Pierre to respond to her last message. Lust inside her grew with the passing seconds. She wondered what he wanted to do to her body. How could she fully appreciate centuries-old masterpieces when a devilishly hot man had complimented her breasts and called her beautiful? She couldn’t.
She scanned a few pieces of work then glanced over her shoulder. By using her phone, she put herself at risk of the staff catching her. And if they did, she wondered if they’d ask her to leave. Maybe they’d confiscate it until she was ready to go. Either way, she had to stay alert and keep her phone hidden in case someone walked into the exhibit. She’d feel utterly embarrassed if she had to leave the Louvre over texting a guy.
No. Not just any guy. A big, well-known French actor. That one detail was enough to make her extra attentive.
Soft thuds moved closer from outside the open doorway. Watching with wide eyes, she lifted her purse and stuffed her cell into the compartment. Better safe than sorry. When Pierre stepped into the room, relief swam through her and she took a calming breath.
Grinning, he walked toward her with his arm extended. “Come, le
t’s talk in the next room.”
She took his hand and let him lead the way. “I thought you were going to finish that sentence.”
“I will, but I want to make sure we are alone. And I did promise to escort you through the Louvre.”
Her heart was beating fast again. While she would enjoy touring the museum with him, she wouldn’t be able to focus on the art. The need for a man thrived within her. With him at her side, she couldn’t help but admire his handsome and strong body. Then the flow of naughty thoughts would consume her. Damn her raging hormones.
“Those women told me you are a famous actor here in France,” she said as he took her into the next room filled with more paintings but empty of visitors.
“I started modeling in my youth. I played on television shows before I took a break and attended college. I returned to acting in my late twenties and have been in the business for the last ten years.”
He stopped in front of a portrait of a half-naked woman.
“You must have a lot of fans,” Gwen said.
“Yes. It’s difficult to go places sometimes. But this place is big and I can move around without too much attention. Pictures are not allowed.”
He turned to the framed art on the wall. As he surveyed it, she studied him and tried to guess his age. To be an actor for so long after completing his education had to place him in the mid to late thirties. The facial hair gave him an older, more experienced quality. Women tended to appreciate men who appeared to have confidence and brains. Add dark hair, tranquil blue eyes and lips worthy of sucking to said male and most women would drool on the spot. Hence the reason her panties were damp and she couldn’t help staring at him.
“This is not one of my favorite portraits of a woman, yet I look at it every time I come here. This woman holds fake beauty. Her skin is too white and it has a waxy sheen. She has no moles or hair. Her breasts are too small and the nipples seem unreal. Her expression is impassive. How can this be when she’s laying half naked in front of a man?” He shook his head and said something in French.
“Maybe this is a creation from the artist’s imagination and not a real person.”
“But why not make the woman more lifelike so we can appreciate her true beauty. Why paint her as something she’s not?”
He turned to face Gwen. “I’ve seen plenty of the women portrayed in pictures in the Louvre and their beauty doesn’t compare to you.”
A rush of heat reached her cheeks. “Do you say that to all the women?”
“No. And I’ve met plenty.” The corner of his mouth twitched. While holding her hand, he lifted his other and touched her shoulder. Slowly, he glided his fingers over her skin and tendrils of longing scurried to her breasts. “I greatly desire to see your beautiful body. Without clothes.”
He lowered his gaze to her chest and the yearning within her increased tenfold. But hesitation gnawed at her conscience. She was in the Louvre and she barely knew him. She took a deep breath as she considered what to do. What to say.
“I assure you, my girls are not like hers.”
A smile formed on his face. “They are bigger, yes.”
“Rounder, yes.”
“Full. And your nipples, are they hard?” He moved his fingers to her neck and gently grazed them lower, bringing the tips underneath the fabric of her sundress that covered her left tit.
“Yes. Very.” And aching for his touch.
“Do they wish to be touched?”
“Yes, and sucked.”
The yearning in her core spread like a wildfire. His touch made her long for more, made her wonder what it would feel like for his hands to hold and squeeze her breasts. Staring at his lips, she imagined them closed around her perky buds and doing all the wicked fun things a man liked to do. Fuck, she wanted him.
“I would enjoy playing with your girls, as you call them,” he said with a sly grin. “But first, I’d have to lick every inch of your body. I want to taste you and the desire inside you. Are you wet, Gwen?” He slipped his fingers deeper under her sundress and into her bra.
She squeezed her thighs together. Damn, he was adding fuel to her carnal fire.
“I’m a horny forty-four year old woman. Yes, I’m very wet right now.”
His smile widened. He let go of her hand and wrapped his arms around her. “Honesty is an excellent quality to have.” He pulled her close until she touched his body.
“It’s one of my strong points,” she said as she felt something stiff press below her navel.
“I have several…strong areas as well.” He stared at her mouth.
“I can feel one now.” The length and firmness of his dick made her want to ride the man right then and there. She leaned into him, admiring the feel of his erection.
“My strength grows and wishes to be inside you.”
She wedged her free hand between their bodies and placed it over his solid member. “After you lick me.”
He moved his face closer to hers, well within kissing range. “I will roll my tongue all over your body, then devour the sweet spot between your legs. I will make you come and enjoy your womanly juice as pleasure enraptures you.” He smoothed his hands over her back and ass.
The need for him overwhelmed her. It was as if he was a siren, with his arousing words and sexy French accent. She rubbed her palm over the bulge in his pants. His cock twitched.
“I’d very much enjoy that.” She lightly touched his lips, encouraging him to kiss her.
He pressed his mouth to hers, but a thud on the floor jarred his attention. He dropped his arms and took a step back. Gwen twisted as a young man with a backpack stepped into the room. A woman followed him.
“Forgive me. I shall return,” Pierre said before he strode away from Gwen.
She stood frozen, gripping her purse and staring in shock as he left her. Desire burned within her flesh. She longed for him to do all the wonderful things he wanted to do to her. He’d kissed her. Well, he’d started to. How could he leave her in such a heated state? How could he walk away with such a hard-on?
She shook her head, trying to let go of her naughty thoughts and the hunger for sex gnawing at her insides. With a deep breath, she took one step and another. Although she faced the pictures on the wall, her focus wasn’t on them. Her strong need for Pierre continued to thrive. She hoped he suffered the same aching misery she did and it would force him to return to her soon.
Gwen increased her stride and entered the next exhibit. More paintings from the same era hung on the walls. Four guests studied the artwork. Gwen decided to skip examining the works and headed straight for the next open doorway.
A slight hum and vibration alerted her as she entered the next area. Luckily, no one else was around. Walking toward the corner, she lifted her purse and withdrew her phone. The message on the screen brought an instant smile to her face.
I want you, beautiful Gwen.
She quickly prepared a response to Pierre. I want you, too.
The keen interest she had for Pierre was one she refused to ignore. She knew she should be marveling at the art in the Louvre, but damn it, she craved sex. And Pierre seemed willing to satisfy her needs.
Another message arrived promptly.
Do you want me to pleasure you with my tongue?
A light spasm between her legs answered on her behalf. The image of him licking her was one she took pleasure from, but she yearned for the real thing.
She typed her reply.
Yes. Then fuck me with your stiff cock. Make my visit to Paris one I will never forget.
She lowered the cell and kept it close to her hip, hidden by her hand and her sweater. While she waited for his next message, she strolled near the pieces of art and glanced over them. The second her phone vibrated in her hand, she glanced over her shoulder and checked for security and other guests. No one had entered the gallery yet.
She lowered her head and lifted her phone.
I’m three or four rooms from you. Alone. Come to me. Hurry.
>
Without delay, she shoved the cell into her purse and strode toward the open doorway. His instructions didn’t specify which direction to take, so she guessed based on the direction he’d gone when he’d left her. From one exhibit, she accessed another and scanned for Pierre. She discovered one person and the visitor’s height and build didn’t compare to the man she sought.
She left and stepped into a hall with two entrances on her left and two on the right. Staying in stride, she continued to the first opening. She found a few guests but none resembling Pierre.
She hurried to the next passageway with adrenaline fueling her pulse. She had to be getting close to finding him. Past the wide doorframe, she found a couple and two men in the large room. Neither one of the unaccompanied males resembled tall, dark and handsome Pierre.
Where the hell was he?
Sighing, she left and walked across the hall. The clack-clack of her shoes was light, but the sound echoed in the wide and vast museum. How many rooms away did he say he was? Three or four? She’d passed through one and checked on two others, which made the next the fourth. Approaching the exhibit, excitement rushed through her. She couldn’t wait to see him again.
She strode inside and came to an abrupt halt. She stood alone with paintings staring at her. Had she counted the rooms correctly? Had she taken too long to find him?
Gripping the handle of her purse, she returned to the hall and headed for the next room. Was he playing a game with her to see if she’d pursue him? Could he be watching her? She pressed her lips together, frustrated and angry at him. She didn’t like games and would surely let him know.
Unease churned within her when she stepped past what she considered the fifth threshold. The empty gallery came as no surprise.
Disappointment surfaced but she attempted to block it out. She was standing in the Louvre with magnificent pieces of art. Forget men. Forget the rigid penis she’d touched briefly, earlier. She could still enjoy her day in the museum.
She slowly examined the paintings on the wall and let the frustration drift from her. Although she hated not knowing the truth, she refused to ponder over the unanswered questions any longer. If he wanted to reach her, he could.
Passion Blooms in Paris (Diary of a Free Woman) Page 2
