“It’s go-time,” he says to me.
I take a bite and close my eyes. “Better,” I tell him, winking at him, and he puts his hand over his heart.
“If I wasn’t married, I would give this clown a run for his money,” he says, and now it’s Alex who gives him the finger while he grabs food and eats. The rest of the meal is filled with praises for the food.
“This is so good,” Kate says. “I can’t eat another bite, yet I can’t stop.”
I yawn while she talks and block my mouth with my hand. “So what time are we starting tomorrow?”
“Let’s have breakfast at nine, and then we can do all the tourist things,” Giselle suggests.
“Our last full day in Paris,” Kate says, and I look down at my leg that Alex is holding. I try to push away the thoughts that I’m leaving and just live in the moment.
The waiter comes back in. “Can we have the bill please?” I say, and he shakes his head.
“It’s on the house,” he says, and I look at Alex.
“That’s not fair,” I tell him, and he leans in, kissing me softly on the lips.
“Don’t worry, he’ll call and collect soon enough. It’s almost his wedding anniversary,” he tells me, pushing his chair back.
We walk out after kissing Eiran and thanking him for the amazing meal. “So we will be at the apartment at nine,” Kate says, and I nod.
“That sounds good,” I say, then turn to Giselle. “Should we take the metro?”
“Yes,” she says out loud, enthusiastically. “I can’t wait.”
We wave bye to everyone and make our way back to Alex’s place. We hold hands the whole way. “Do you have a robe?” I ask him, and he just nods. “Why don’t we change and go up to the roof?”
He raises his eyebrow. “That sounds like you have a plan.” He pulls me to his room, then goes into his closet and grabs a fluffy white robe.
He hands it to me. “You change, I’ll change, and then we can go up,” I tell him, getting up on my tippy toes and kissing his lips. I walk to the bathroom and undress, grabbing the robe and walking out. He waits for me, sitting on the bed. “Ready?” I ask him, and he nods at me. I walk with him, and we get up to the roof, the sky now clearer than before with stars twinkling in the sky. The Eiffel Tower lights up the sky. “It’s so pretty,” I say and watch him walk to the hot tub, seeing that there are already two wine glasses and a bucket of two bottles of wine. “How?” I turn to ask him.
“I have my sources,” he says, and I laugh. He walks to the bottles of wine and pours us two glasses.
“Do you want to sit on the couch or just sit in the hot tub?” he asks me.
My hand reaches for the sash and unties it slowly. “I think we should sit in the hot tub,” I tell him, and he turns to look at me. I open the robe and slowly let it fall from my shoulders, leaving me standing here completely naked, causing his eyes to go from light to dark. “You know,” I start, grabbing my hair and tying it up. “The whole time at dinner, I had this picture in my mind.” I walk to him, grabbing one glass of wine. Bringing it to my lips, I take a sip, and it goes down very smooth. “This is very good,” I tell him, and he still doesn’t say anything.
“As I was saying …” I turn and walk to the stairs of the hot tub, placing the glass down on the built-in table beside it. “I sat there thinking about this picture in my mind.” I put one foot in and then the other, walking to the far back, then turn to look at him. His shorts do little to hide the fact that his cock is ready. I sit down on the edge with my back against the wall of cement, and I don’t hiss when the back hits it. I place one leg out against the edge and then do the same time to the other side. His eyes are almost hooded as I sit here open for him. “Was this what you were picturing?” I ask him, taking my hand and running it down my chest past my stomach and right to the middle of my legs. “It’s what I was picturing, and it made me wet,” I say, and then I see him shift. He puts down the wine glass, takes the condoms out of his shorts, and pulls them down.
He walks to the hot tub, tosses the condoms next to my wine glass, and gets in, walking to me. “No,” he says, shoving my hand away. “This isn’t what I was picturing,” he tells me. He holds my face in his hand and bends down. I’m expecting him to kiss me; I’m waiting for it. My nipples are all tight, waiting for the kiss also, and my stomach flips. “This is what I was picturing,” he says and gets down, burying his face in my pussy.
Chapter Twelve
Alex
“You’re going to make me late,” she says softly when I start kissing her stomach and slowly moving up. “They are going to be here at nine,” she says, but this time, she puts her fingers in my hair.
I can’t get enough of her—the hot tub, the terrace, the bed, the couch, the shower. I’m waiting for the time when I don’t want to reach for her in the night. I kiss her softly. “We have forty minutes.”
“We also have another problem,” she says. “You used your last condom when you woke me up at five to watch the sunrise and then bent me over.” It wasn’t my fault. While watching the sun come up with her standing in front of me naked, she looked over her shoulder, and the next thing I knew, a condom was on my cock, her tits were pressed against the cast iron table, and my hand was fisting her hair.
“That was hot,” I tell her, and she just hums and agrees. “I need a cold shower.”
“Yeah, you can do that all alone,” she tells me, getting up and putting my robe on again. “Can I go make some coffee?”
“You want me to come and help you?” I ask her while I fist my cock.
She just shakes her head. “I think I’m good.” She turns to walk out, yelling, “You want some?”
“Yeah!” I yell back and go to the bathroom, turning on the water. By the time I walk out of the shower with a towel wrapped around my waist, I am not expecting what I see. She is sitting on the terrace in my robe that swallows her with the cuffs rolled up. Her legs crossed and peeking out, her long hair tied up on the top of her head. She sits there without a stitch of makeup, and she takes my breath away. She looks over at me, smiling, and I was wrong before. She didn’t just take my breath away; she stole my heart. At this moment, four days after she walked into my restaurant with her cute smile and sassy attitude, she creeped into me, and we both had no idea it was happening. And now, she is leaving tomorrow. I guess what they say is real—karma is a bitch.
“I made you coffee,” she says, pointing at the cup in front of her, and I walk outside, pulling the other chair out and sitting down in front of her. “I don’t know how you take your coffee, so I brought you sugar and milk on the side.”
I reach down and grab her foot, putting it in my lap. “Just black,” I tell her, and she picks up her own coffee that has milk in it. “Don’t make plans tonight,” I tell her.
“Really?” she says, smiling. “Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise,” I tell her.
“What do I wear?” she asks me, and I look over at her.
“Whatever you wear, Chérie, will be fine.” I rub her foot.
“I hate surprises,” she says. “It gives me hives.” She pretends to scratch behind her ear, and I laugh.
“It’s a good surprise,” I tell her, and I’m about to rub my hand higher when I hear my name being shouted.
“Alexandre!” Giselle yells. “I’m here. Please put all penises away.” She laughs and then knocks on the door when she hears Meghan laugh.
“Bonjour Madame.” Good morning, she says, coming in and looking at us sitting outside. “You’re not ready?” She looks over at Meghan.
“It takes me five minutes,” she says, getting up. “I honestly will be out in five minutes,” she says. “I won’t look as fabulous as you, but I’ll be ready to go,” she says, walking back inside the room. Giselle waits for her to get in the bathroom before she starts.
“I really hope you know what you’re doing.” She looks at me. “You have never been this careless before.”
/> “What am I doing that is careless?” I ask her but don’t wait for her to answer me. “I saw a beautiful woman, and I spent a couple of nights with her. She leaves tomorrow, for fuck’s sake.”
I look at Giselle, who crosses her arms over her chest, shaking her head. “You expect me to believe that this is just a fling?” She laughs now. “You are so fucked it’s not even funny.”
“I’m not fucked. It is what it is,” I tell her, and the words taste like acid.
“See,” Meghan says, coming out from the bathroom wearing green shorts, rolled up at the hem and tied around the waist with a loose black camisole, her hair loose and wavy.
“You did all that in less that five minutes?” Giselle says. “If I wasn’t here to see it, I wouldn’t believe it,” she says. “Let’s go.”
Meghan nods at her but comes over and leans down, cupping my face in her soft hands. “Have a nice day, Chérie,” she says and then kisses me softly on the lips.
“Bring her home by six. We have reservations at seven.” I look at Giselle, who just nods.
I watch them both walk out and then get up, making my way inside to get dressed and finish my work before I take the night off. I grab my phone to make the most important phone call.
“Jules,” I say into the phone when he answers, “c’est Alex.”
“Oh merde tu m'appelles seulement quand tu as besoin de quelque chose”,” Oh, shit, he says laughing, you only call me when you need something.
I laugh. “Et bien je vais aller droit au but.” Well then, I don't have to waste time sweet-talking you, I tell him. “J'ai besoin du restaurant ce soir?” I need the restaurant tonight.
“Une table ou le restaurant entier?” A table or the whole restaurant? he asks, and I don’t have to answer. “merde. Je dois te laisser j'ai des réservations à annuler.” Shit. I have to let you go. I have reservations to cancel, he says, and I laugh.
“I owe you,” I tell him and disconnect. Getting dressed, I rush out of the apartment.
I rush most of the morning, but stop when I get a picture of the girls from an unknown number.
It’s Meghan, look at where your sister brought us.
There is a picture of her and the girls sitting on a blanket, their backs to the camera with the Eiffel Tower in the background.
Are you having fun?
Yes. So much fun. We are going to see if we can get to the top of the Eiffel Tower. But first the love bridge.
I send her back a thumbs-up, and she doesn’t answer me. I park my car, rushing into the restaurant we just acquired. I’m spending the whole afternoon here going over the rebuild, the menu, and the wine list. I want this restaurant to have an elegant but relaxed style.
The designer hands me the folder that she did for the different design styles, and by the time I look down at my watch, it’s close to five thirty. I grab all the papers and head back over to the apartment. My phone beeps in my pocket, and I only take it out when I’m walking to the elevator.
I’m back.
I smile, thinking of her in my apartment, just lounging. When I walk into the apartment, it doesn’t surprise me that she is sitting outside. I lean on the doorjamb and watch her. Her feet kicked up on the chair I sit on and her hair tied on the top of her head, she is scrolling through her phone. She must sense me watching her because she looks up, and her face lights up with a smile. “Hey there.” She sits up, her feet falling off the chair as she crosses them, and I walk to her.
I stop beside her chair and lean down, kissing her. “Allo, Chérie,” I say softly right before our lips touch. I kiss her forehead after and place the folder on the table, shrugging off my jacket. “How was your day?”
She looks at me, her green eyes lighting up. “Amazing. I’m in love with your city,” she says, laughing. “What about you? Did you slay?”
I sit back in the chair. “Yes, I just had a four-hour meeting going over the plans of the new restaurant we bought.”
“Is that what’s in there?” She points at the folder. “May I?” she asks, and I nod. She opens the folder, checking out the pictures, spreading it out on the table. “So.” She looks up. “I’m a designer. I have my own designing house back home.” My eyes shoot up when she tells me this. “What are you looking for exactly?” she asks me.
“I want it chic yet casual,” I tell her, and she nods her head, looking down at the pictures.
“Do you want people to drink and leave or to stay around?” she asks something new.
“Both,” I tell her.
“Then this is my suggestion. You do couches, mainly small ones but comfy enough for people to call their friends and say come and meet me.” She picks up a picture of the low tables, then goes on her phone and pulls up single small seats, showing me. “These come in single and also loveseats,” she says and then grabs a picture of red drapes. “The cream color is relaxing; the red is sexy. It works more for the afternoon and night, and if you have more light during lunch, you won’t notice the red.”
I look at her idea, and I’m blown away that she got that vision with one question. “You must be very successful,” I tell her.
“I do okay,” she tells me. “I’ve had my company for the past five years, and it’s growing rapidly. I do a lot more online business than I do local business,” she says and hands me the phone. “This is my site.” She shows it to me, and now I can see why she’s successful. It’s clean and crisp and inviting.
“So you work with people all over the world?” I ask her, and she nods.
“Yes. My last project before coming here was for a loft in Italy.” She scrolls through her phone. “Here is the before and after,” she says and hands it to me.
“Really, really good,” I tell her as I swipe through the pictures.
“I am going to get ready,” she says, standing up beside the table. “Take a shower.” She rubs circles on my arm with her finger. “Alone.” I look up at her. “Unless you stopped at the drug store and replenished?” Dropping her phone on the table, I lean back in my chair. She grabs her shirt and lifts it over her head, leaving her in a black satin bra. Her fingers going to the string belt on her shorts, pulling one string and then letting them fall to the floor. My eyes go straight to the lace thong she is wearing. “I may be a while,” she tells me, then turns and walks to the bathroom. I watch her go, counting to ten, and then get out of my chair, grab the box in my jacket, and follow her into the shower.
“Have I mentioned that I hate surprises?” she says, coming into the closet while I’m putting on my belt. I look up at her and stop moving. “I don’t even know if I’m dressed for the occasion.” I look at her standing there in a tight pale pink pencil skirt all the way past her knees; her white floral top is tucked into the skirt and off the shoulder just touch, the sleeves big and loose to her elbows. It screams class and sexy, and my cock wants in on it. I look at her shoes—another pair of fuck-me shoes. Her hair long and loose, exactly how I love it.
“You look gorgeous, Chérie,” I say, proceeding to put on my brown Hermes belt. I grab my brown tan jacket and slip it on.
“Are you going to give me a hint?” she asks when I walk to her, and she puts her hands on my chest. “Just a little one?”
“Okay,” I say to her. “The food is French.” I wink at her when she groans. “Are you ready?”
“I guess so.” She glares at me and walks out, grabbing her purse on the bed and waiting for me. “This sucks.” She pouts, and I laugh.
“How does this sound? If it isn’t worth it, I’ll do all the work tonight,” I say, and now she rolls her eyes.
“If it isn’t worth it, you’re sleeping alone tonight,” she says over her shoulder, walking to the front door. “You better hope it’s all that and a bag of french fries.”
“That isn’t the saying,” I say, catching up to her and grabbing her hand to bring to my lips.
“I know it’s chips, but I like french fries better,” she says and walks in the elevator once it gets ther
e. I follow her in there, shaking my head next to her. She turns and looks at me, shrugging her shoulders. The elevator gets to the bottom floor, and she walks in front of me swinging her hips, and I do the only thing I can. I smack her ass, making her stop in her tracks.
“If you’re not beside me when you go to sleep tonight, you’ll have trouble sitting on the plane back home,” I tell, grabbing her arm and walking to the car. I open the door for her, and she pauses right before she steps in and sits.
“Well, now, who says that isn’t what I want anyway?” she whispers, kissing under my jaw. I slam the door once she’s inside, and then I count to ten to get control of myself. I should just cancel dinner and spend the night buried in her.
Chapter Thirteen
Meghan
I focus on the beating of my heart as I see him walking to his side of the car. I have no idea where we are going or what we are doing, and I have to be honest—I don’t care as long as it’s with Alex. He could have said we were sitting on his couch eating cheese and bread, and I’d be just as happy.
Getting ready with him in the bathroom came naturally; walking into his closet with him getting dressed felt like I’ve been doing it forever. But I haven’t. Fuck, this time last week, I had no idea who he was. By this time tomorrow, I’ll be just a memory. I blink away the sting of tears, repeating that this is only a fling. He gets in, and his smell is all around me. When he looks over at me, we both lunge for each other at the same time. His hands bury in my hair, and mine wrap around his shoulder, and when our tongues finally meet, we both moan at the same time.
His kisses leave me breathless, they leave me wanting more, they leave me wishing I had more time. Wishing we had more time. “If we don’t leave now …” he says, softly kissing my lips. Turning, he starts the car. I look over at him, my hand reaching out to run my finger through his hair. “That isn’t helping, Meghan,” he hisses, and I laugh.
Faux Pas Page 10
