Faux Pas

by Natasha Madison

  “Fasten seat belt please,” the pilot says. She lets me go and sits beside me, and I lean over and buckle her in, then myself. I put my arm around her shoulder and pull her close to me, her head on my shoulder, and then when it’s okay, she unclips her belt and climbs back onto my lap. Her eyes aren’t red anymore, her lashes now dry; gone is the sad, and in its place is the big smile I dream of every night.

  “I really missed you,” she says to me, leaning in and kissing me, and this time, I kiss her with my tongue. My hand goes up her back where I bury it in her hair, and I’m suddenly home.

  I’m suddenly able to breathe without the pressure that has been sitting on my chest for the past two weeks. “J'ai compté les minutes qui me séparaient de toi, puis les heures, les jours”Every single of hour of every single day I've waited for this right here. “De t'avoir dans mes bras, de t'avoir près de moi, d'avoir enfin les battements de nos cœurs rythmer notre vie .” To have you in my arms, to have you close to me, to finally have my heart beat at the same time as yours. I don’t let her answer because I have two weeks of kissing to make up for and only eight hours to do it.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Meghan

  The minute I saw his head pop out of that plane, the whole two weeks caught up with me. The missing him, the fact I couldn’t just lean over and kiss him during the night, that we didn’t cook together, or he didn’t wake me up with his soft butterfly kisses just all caught up with me. I buried my face in his neck, and I was never, ever coming out. Ever.

  His smell, his touch, his heart beating under my ear is everything. He kisses me slowly at first, and then once his hands go into my hair, I know it’s going to get faster, and I am not wrong. For eight hours, we lie side by side on the couch, kissing, touching, breathing each other in.

  When it is time to land, we sit up, and he buckles me in. We get off the plane and walk over to his parked car. “Where are we?” I ask, looking over at the white hangar that holds another two planes.

  “We are at my family’s private landing quarters,” he tells me, bringing my hand up to his mouth.

  “Of course, it is,” I joke with him. He can’t be serious, right? “Where are we going now? To the chateau?”

  “Yes.” He smiles at me, opening my door. “Château La Fleur.” Pushing me almost in, he kisses me. He walks over to his side of the car, starting it and taking off.

  I look outside at the vast green that surrounds us. There are so many trees, and he points to my left. “That is my vineyard,” he says, and I swear it goes on forever. We make our way on the side road that winds up and down the hills. “That is my parents’ house.” He points to a big house in the distance on the side. We turn down the road where big trees line the road, making it impossible for you to see what is behind it. We pull up to a gate, and he presses the button, and the cast iron fence opens. I look back, and it closes as soon as we are inside.

  I still can’t see anything but the trees that shade the road, but then I see some light coming onto the road, and we finally come out and the sunshine shows me his ‘chateau.’ I sit here, my mouth hanging open. There is a water fountain in the middle of the round driveway. Of course, every chateau must have the circle driveway. I look out, and the house is so big. When he comes to a stop, I see someone running over to open my door.

  “Bon matin, Madame,” Good morning, he says, putting out a hand, and I take it and he helps me out.

  Alex comes over. Merci Gaetan, Ne garez pas la voiture trop loin nous allons peut-être sortir ce soir.” Don’t park the car too far; we might be going out this evening.

  “D’accord,” he says, nodding at him and then going to the trunk to take out the bag. Alex walks forward and grabs it from him, then grabs my hand, and walks toward the door. We walk up to the doors that I see are now cast iron in front with all glass windows.

  He opens the door, and I walk in after him, and I’m pretty sure my eyes are going to come out of my sockets. The floor looks like white marble. Looking up, I see that the ceiling is painted white with gold lines, the round chandelier dropping in the middle with gold carved designs around it. I walk farther into the room and look around, and there is a balcony with a cast iron railing where you can stand and look down at the room. An archway on each side, both with gold details. A marble table sits with a silver vase of roses, and a huge mirror is on the side of the wall. A plush velvet and gold couch sits on the other side with a beautiful oil painting of flowers framed in gold. The molding around the archways looks like roses. “This is the entrance,” he says, and I side-eye him.

  In front of us is another balcony on the top, and there are two columns under the balcony archway. Inside the room is two big champagne-colored chairs with two smaller ones facing them in a deep purple velour. The glass table with gold feet sits in the middle with another vase of flowers. The back of the room has hanging curtains held open on each side. He turns left as he walks down till we get to the opening, and I can’t move my feet. In front of me is the same cast iron on the balcony, but this time, it’s in front of a staircase. The back wall of the staircase is a painting of a balcony that has flowers all on it and trees, and it looks so real.

  He drags me inside, and we walk up the stairs, and I try not to touch anything. “That is the sitting room where my mother and sister love having tea.” He points at the room on the side that I can’t really see, but I can just fucking imagine. “Right now, I need to get you to bed,” he says, and we walk past rooms, the floor still the same marble as downstairs. The gold trim is everywhere; we walk on top of the balcony that faces the front door and then finally make it to the end of the hall where two doors are closed. He pushes the gold handles in the middle of the door open. I’m expecting his bed to be facing the door like in Paris, but I’m wrong. I walk into the room, and the walls are painted a light beige with the gold molding. A brown marble table holds a big bouquet of peonies in the middle. We walk around, and there are the pillars again and the gold archway. The little hallway has a gold chandelier hanging from it with a brown and gold hutch on the side. When I finally turn the corner and see his bedroom, I shake my head. I walk into the room and turn around in a circle while he leans on one of the pillars. The floor is a dark chestnut wood.

  A huge blue velvet chair with gold is on the side, facing the bed with a small foot stool. A blue carpet is in front of the huge ass bed. I look up at the tall ceilings that is boxed in and comes down with gold trim again. His bed has a blue headboard with a box that comes out and has blue silk drapes in front that tie on the sides. The side table is rounded with gold feet. The detailing is exquisite, but not as exquisite as the front of the bed. It has gold boxes all over it and in the middle is a crest in gold that I’ve seen all over the house. “This is where you sleep?” I ask him, and he smiles, looking down and then up again. “I don’t even want to touch anything, so how am I supposed to stay here for a week?”

  “Chérie,” he says, coming forward, and I hold up my hand, looking at the pillars to the side with three archways. Four blue velour couches all in a circle face the window outside. “Chérie, it’s me and you.” He comes to me, kissing my neck. “It’s always just me and you.”

  “But,” I say, and I’m stopped when he takes my face in his hand, and he sucks my neck. “Later,” I say softly, and he finally moves his hands over my tits and squeezes them. “Much later,” I tell him and close my eyes when he takes my T-shirt and tosses it over my head, my nipples aching to be touched. The lace cream-colored bra doesn’t hide anything. He leans down, bites it, and as soon as the sting gets to me, he sucks it deep. “Alex,” I pant out, going for his own shirt and trying to rip it over his head. My hands are all over him while he tries to unclip my bra. My fingers fumble at the button of his jeans as he starts backing me up toward the bed, and then he picks me up and tosses me on it. He unsnaps his button and brings the zipper down, his cock already bulging out of his white Boss boxers. He kicks his pants and opens the side table, taking out condom
s and tossing them on the bed. He puts one knee on the bed and then kisses my bare stomach as he works his way up. “Alex,” I moan. “I need a shower,” I tell him, and his eyes look up at me while he takes a nipple in his mouth.

  “Chérie,” he says, going to the next one. “I’ve been without you for two weeks.” He brings a nipple into his mouth. “I’m fucking you now,” he says and gets up and practically rips off my pants. The lace panties don’t stand a chance, and he holds up the tattered pieces. “I owe you.” He smiles and leans to grab a condom. “Get yourself ready for me,” he says, and my hand slides into the middle of my legs. I’m already wet for him as I watch him pull his boxers down and show me his cock. He fists it, and I sit up, leaning over to lick off the pre-cum, twirling my tongue around the cock of his head. “Enough,” he says, pushing me back. “Let me see you,” he says, and I lean back down now and open my legs for him. I run my finger down and inside me, coming out and rubbing my clit in circles, “I’m going to take my time with you after. Eat you for hours,” he says, and I feel my pussy get wetter. He comes to me with his cock in the condom, and he leans down and slaps my clit with it. “Put me in you, Chérie.”

  I grab his cock in my hand and rub it from my clit to my entrance three times. He must feel the heat because I see him close his eyes each time, and finally, he takes over and plunges into me in one fast, hard thrust. I open my legs even wider, and he pulls out and wants to go slow, but the need is more than him right now. He thrusts back in even harder. His hands go on either side of my arms, and I hold his forearm in my hand and look down, watching his cock disappear in me. I put my other hand on his neck, and he leans in and sucks my neck while he fucks me. We don’t last nearly as long as we both wanted to. It’s too much, so I come with my eyes closed, and he comes when he slams into me and roars into my neck, collapsing on top of me. I take his weight and wrap my legs around him and now my arms. “I missed this,” I tell him as we both don’t move.

  I feel his hand go to my waist as he pulls us up, his cock still in me. “Shower and then we need to talk,” he says, and my heart stops and gets heavy. “Okay, maybe we talk later,” he says once he walks to the bathroom. We walk down a hallway with closed doors and full mirrors everywhere, passing all his clothes.

  “Was that your closet?” I ask of the room that is as big as my whole house, and he nods as he walks into the bathroom.

  He walks over to the marble countertop and places me on there, and he pulls out of me, turning and walking to the closed door to open it, tossing the condom. “I’ll be back,” he says and walks out, and it gives me a minute to look around. I’m sitting on the marble that faces a whole wall of mirrors in little squares. To each side of the mirrors are glass doors, and it shows me that it’s a walk-in shower with about twenty-five rain shower heads. To the left I see more freaking columns and in the corner is three steps and a round huge bathtub in the middle with a mirror in a circle surrounding the tub. I see Alex walk back in, his cock at half mast, and I look at him from head to toe. His hair looks like he’s been at war, and he has with my fingers. His chest a touch tanner than before, his tribal tattoo on full show. His arms show more muscle than before.

  “Have you been to the gym?” I ask him, laughing when he opens the glass door and presses a button and all of the shower heads slowly pour out.

  “You can say that.” He comes over and puts my hair in back of me so he can kiss my collarbone. “Every time I wanted to sink into you, I would go and take out my frustrations at the gym,” he says, kissing me softly up my neck and then down.

  “I just pleasured myself while I thought of you,” I tell him, and he stops kisses me. “I’ll try your way next time.”

  “You pleasured yourself while you thought of me?” he growls, and I roll my eyes.

  “Kind of,” I say and look away, his hand coming out to grab my chin and turn it back. “Okay fine, twice a day and more on Saturday and Sunday.”

  “Next time”—he comes closer—“you call me, and I’ll watch you.” My legs try to close so I can rub them together, but he picks me up and tosses three condoms on the seat in the corner as we walk into the shower. We stand under each of the shower heads as I tilt my head back and let the water wash over me, the temperature perfect. “Tell me,” he says, and I open my eyes to see him under his own shower head, “what would you picture?” His eyes getting hooded and going darker.

  Taking my hands, I cup my tits and play with my nipples. “I would just picture you,” I tell him. His hand goes to his cock, and he fists it, moving it slowly up and down as he watches me. “I would picture sucking your cock,” I say to him, and now I turn and walk to the bench on my side of the shower. I sit down with my back to the wall and bring one leg up, opening myself to him. “How hard it is?” I say, taking my middle finger and going through my folds till it’s buried in me, then adding another finger, bringing them back out to rub my clit. “I fuck myself, thinking it’s you,” I tell him, and his hand goes faster. “I picture you eating my pussy to start; that’s how I always start.”

  “Fuck,” he hisses, his eyes on my fingers the whole time. It doesn’t take me much longer before I come on my hands, and I watch him close his eyes as he comes with his head hanging back.

  Chapter Twenty

  Alex

  “Chérie!” I yell from the bedroom; she has been getting dressed for the past thirty minutes. “We are going to be late.” I walk into the closet and see her sitting on the chair, her head down.

  She looks up at me. and her eyes are red. “I don’t think I can do this,” she tells me. “I have nothing to wear.”

  “Chérie, it’s dinner with my parents,” I tell her, sitting down on the stool in front of her and taking in her outfit, her hair loose and tucked behind one ear. She is wearing a white dress with no sleeves, and it looks like it comes past her knees with tan heels.

  “Exactly,” she says and wrings her hands, the three-color gold pearl bracelet on her wrist. “What if they don’t think I’m good enough?”

  I grab her hand. “How can you say that?” I tell her and then hold her face in my hand. “It’s me who isn’t good enough for you.”

  She shakes her head. “I don’t know all the etiquettes and how to do all the fancy things.”

  I throw my head back and laugh. “There is no etiquette, and you speak French, so you’ll understand everything. I promise you that if you feel out of place or uncomfortable, just say the word and we’ll go.” I lean in and kiss her.

  “Okay,” she whispers and stands. I see her dress now; it hugs her curves, and she has a brown belt around her waist with a big flower at the side. She is stylish and elegant, and you can’t buy that.

  I hold her hand, walking out and then getting into the car. She fidgets with her hands, and when we pull into my parents’ driveway, I see her look over at me. “So your house looks like the pool house compared to this,” she says, and I laugh, grabbing her hand and kissing it.

  I get out and walk around, and she is already getting out. My fingers lock with hers as we walk into the house. I don’t even know what is going through her mind; my house is tame compared to my parents’. We walk into the sitting room and see that my parents are already in there having a drink. “Alex,” my mother says, getting up from her chair and coming to me. Meghan squeezes my hand a bit harder.

  “Maman,” I say, kissing her on the cheek. ““Je te présente Meghan.” Let me introduce you to Meghan, I say, turning to Meghan. “This is my mother, Sarah.”

  “Enchantée.” I'm so pleased to meet you, Meghan says in French, and my mother smiles.

  “Tout le plaisir est pour nous.” The pleasure is all ours. She smiles at her and leans in to kiss her on the cheeks. “Louis,” she says to my father, “come meet Meghan.” I look over, and my father walks over, leaning in and kissing Meghan on her cheeks.

  “More beautiful than the pictures,” he says, and Meghan looks over at me. “Come sit down,” he says, pointing at the couch s
et that they were sitting on right in front of the fireplace.

  “Giselle and Guy should be here any minute,” my mother says, “and your grandmother is just getting changed.”

  “Oh, boy.” I hear Meghan say under her breath as I lead her to the couch. One of the maids comes over with a silver tray with glasses of white or red wine. Meghan grabs a glass of the white wine. She holds it on her lap while I take a red one, and then when I look over at her and nod, she takes a sip. Giselle runs into the room at that moment.

  “She’s here,” she says, and Meghan smiles at her. She leans over and puts down her glass of wine to get up to greet her. They hug each other. “You look amazing,” she tells Meghan, and she smiles and says the same thing back to my sister.

  “Guy,” Meghan says, going over to him and kissing him on the cheek. “So great to see you again, and I heard congratulations are in order.”

  “Oui, madame,” Yes, he says. “She finally accepted the fate that she is going to be bound to me for life.” She puts her head back and laughs.

  “cela fait tellement longtemps que que je ne vous ai pas entendu rire.” I haven't heard this much laughter in a while, my grandmother says, coming into the room followed by Emery, her personal assistant of sorts. “Emery du vin blanc s’il vous plaît.” White wine please, she tells her, then turns back around. “Alexandre présente moi ton amour.” Alexandre, introduce me to your love, she says, smiling at me and then looking at Meghan. I walk to her, kissing her on the cheeks.

  “Grand-mère je te présente meghan, I tell her and then hold out my hand for Meghan who walks to me and takes my hand, “Meghan, ma grand-mère Mariette.”

  “c'est tellement merveilleux de vous rencontrer.” It’s so nice to meet you, Meghan says to her and leans in to kiss her cheek.