by Julie Adams
He has this swagger and the looks to match. He might have made me nervous if I didn't have my own understanding of who I am.
“Coffee, Inspector?” Caroline offers. He shakes his head no and I wave her out. I hold out a hand to a club chair in the corner of my office, I take the one across from him.
“What did you need?” I ask casually. Unbuttoning my suit jacket to sit comfortably. I have a full day and the sooner he's done with me, the sooner I can grab lunch and get back to work.
“You were there the night of the murder?” He's not glancing at notes, he has this all memorized. “You broke down the door to get to Mademoiselle Costa,”
It wasn't a question but I nod. “I was walking by and I heard her screaming.”
“Impressive being able to break down a door like that, it's solid old wood. You must be quite strong,”
“And it was probably quite warped over the years,” I reply. He's baiting me.
“Maybe. Can you tell me where you were coming from?”
I force my face to remain impassive. He thinks I may have something to do with the murder, if his questions aren't enough to tell me that, the feeling in my gut is.
“I was coming from my apartment.” He nods, he knew this already somehow.
“Going where?”
“Just walking, blowing off some steam from the day.” I mentally chide myself. Poor choice of words.
“Bad day?”
“Hectic and long. I needed the fresh air and exercise. It's not always easy or fun doing what I do.”
He nods. He doesn't say anything for a minute, just looks around my office, out the window. Then back at me. “CCTV can confirm this,” he says and it surprises me they've gone as far to review my actions on surveillance.
Maybe I should have called my lawyer.
I nod. Panic rises in my chest and it's taking more control to school my features. I'm innocent of murder.
“Except, at one point you duck into an alley, a long one that ends up right behind the theater. You weren't seen again for about an hour.”
Shit! Shit! Shit!
Of course they had seen me disappear for an hour, I hadn't been trying to hide. I hadn't expected anyone to be murdered.
“A problem with the cameras?” I ask, buying myself time.
“I don't think so, Mr. Erickson." His stare is driving right into mine, cool, calm, collected. All the time in the world.
Meanwhile, I'm watching the sand pour out. I've been a fool. I should have told the truth long ago.
I only have one option, be honest. I have absolutely no connection to the victim, they'll have to believe me.
“I was there…” I say, my gaze as unwavering as his as I go on. I lay it all on the table, much like I had rehearsed when thinking of telling Lily.
When I've finished, it’s like a weight is lifted. Bisset isn’t thrilled but he’s not wholly disgusted either.
Maybe there’s hope for me when I confess to Lily.
Twenty Five
Lily
Work has been a flurry today. My email inbox had over two-hundred messages with inquiries about the spots for opening night. I had listened to demos and responded. I hadn't even had time to look for bands outside of those.
Then the phone has been ringing. Press inquiries, bands, people looking for jobs.
The theater is a zoo, so much noise and people that it’s hard to concentrate. I've barely had time to think.
The wiring and lights are done and the circuit breaker will no longer blow come showtime. The stage looks modern and waiting. The theater seats installed in the balconies, and the main floor has been cleared for standing.
Now work is underway for the dressing areas and offices.
I had begged Brent to find a place to store the swan bed. I have no idea what I plan on doing with it but I can’t stand the thought of it being broken to pieces and thrown away.
After 12 long hours, Brent says it's time for the three of us to go home. I pull on my navy blue trench and walk with them outside. Beth is talking about color schemes and black wallpaper and Brent is patiently listening trying to see her vision.
I pause for a moment on the stairs when I see him, my face breaking out into a smile, my heart doing that soar and dive it always does.
Nathan’s standing on the curb, his back pressed against a dark gray Mercedes coupe. It looks sporty and fast. And oh, so sexy.
He grins back up at me. In a moment of complete abandon, I throw myself into his arms. He makes me so damn happy.
“Aw,” I hear Beth say.
Brent chuckles. “Nate.” He greets and I can hear the humor in his voice. “Catch you guys later, I’m starving.”
“When aren’t you?” I toss over my shoulder as Nathan puts my feet back on the ground.
“Oui.” Beth agrees and Brent swats her on the behind. Beth giggles and takes a few quick steps making him chase her.
I grin as they speed walk down the avenue.
When I look at Nathan he’s smiling at them too. “It’s gross and cute at the same time.” I say. He nods in agreement. “This yours?” I ask pointing to the car.
“I’m renting it for the week. I want to pick you up from work, and hailing cabs back and forth just seems like a hassle.” He says opening the door for me.
“You don’t have to do that. I can manage on my own,” I smile at him, at the gesture. I’ve never felt so taken care of, so thought of. It’s enough to make a girl a little high on life.
“Nope. For now, I’m your personal chauffeur.” He pulls onto the road and starts driving home. He seems tense, in both voice and body language. His jaw hard, his shoulders stiff, but he’s trying to hide it.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” he nearly sighs. “Just a lot going on.” He looks at me and runs a hand over his mouth.
“What?” I ask sensing there’s more. I just need to hear it, to get it over with before my mind comes up with a hundred different scenarios.
He runs his hand over his mouth again. The silence like a breathing thing between us. “Nothing. Just stressed, I guess. Work.”
“Oh.” I blink. I don’t completely believe him. I want to help him the same way he helps me. “You need to have some fun. What do you do for fun?” I ask taking his hand from the gearshift. The least I can do is be supportive.
He raises his eyebrows at me. “I think you know,”
I laugh. “Something you do for fun with your clothes on,”
“I can do all of those things with clothes on, you remember that concert, no?”
My thighs squeeze together against the twinge I feel in my core. I remember it well and in vivid detail. I don’t think I could ever forget it.
“You know what I mean,” my voice is thick with lust and he notices. I blush while he grins like a cat.
“Aside from playing music, listening to music. I don’t know. I guess nothing.” He says pulling into the parking space for his apartment.
“You need more than that. When did you last see a movie in a theater? Go to the Eiffel Tower? Visit a market?” I ask as we go through the lobby to the elevator.
He leans against the back of the elevator wall and looks at me. “Um…” he looks pensive, “never.”
“What? Are you serious?” My mouth won’t close on my shock. “You’re from Paris, have a view of the Tower from the windows in your apartment, but you’ve never been to the Eiffel Tower? And you’ve really never been to a movie? Never experienced the joy of popcorn doused in oil flavored like butter?”
He shrugs watching the numbers. Then he looks at me almost like he’s embarrassed. “We had screening room growing up and my step-dad had connections, we watched our movies there.”
“It’s not the same. Even though that sounds amazing.” He smirks at me placing his hand on my lower back and leading me into the apartment. “Are you free Saturday?”
He spins me to face him. “Yo
u need me to be?” His gaze is heady. His hands are playing with the hem of my sweater, his fingers trailing over the small of my back.
I nod yes, losing my breath when he skims his fingers over my rib cage and cups my breasts.
“I'm yours,” he whispers kissing me. Two words that hold so much weight just from his tone.
I pull back. “And will I be able to drive your car?”
He nods kissing me again. I smile wide, it's been so long since I've driven.
“Dress casual. No suits or ties.” I say pulling the knot loose from his and working on the buttons of his shirt. “And no business calls unless the place is on fire.” I tug off his belt and take him in. Jacket still on, tie and shirt hanging open, his pants low on his hips. This is what men would look like in porn made for women.
I drop to my knees and lick over each hard line that comes from his pelvis and over his hips, that sexy V that instantly turns me on. He chuckles then groans when I flick his nipple with my tongue.
He groans stiffening even more beneath his slacks. I palm him through the material enjoying the sharp intake of breath he takes, dropping his head back.
I stand and he starts tearing off his clothes while I strip of my own. He sits on the couch, his erection bobbing and I bite my lip to keep from groaning. It's just begging to be rode.
I straddle him and take him inside in one long stroke. I ignore the slight pain at his girth stretching and filling me. I pause when I feel his balls flush against my ass. Only then letting myself adjust.
He's gripping the cushions in white-knuckled fists, his head thrown back against the sofa. “Fuck,” he breathes. I can tell it’s taking every ounce of his control not to grab my hips and pound into me.
I take his hands and put them on my hips as I start to grind. Slow circles then forward and back, feeling him stroke every inch of me.
He makes no effort to lift his head, just watches me through hooded eyes. “So fucking good, Lily,” I swat his hands when he loses control and tries to speed my thrusts.
“Uh-uh, this is my rodeo, cowboy.” I wink at him and swivel my hips, wiping the smile from his face as he lets out a whoosh of breath. I go back to my leisurely grind, sliding all the way to the tip then down again, enjoying the sensation of being empty then impossibly full again.
His eyes gleam and he bucks up into me. I gasp with the delicious roughness. Maybe I am going too slow. I roll my hips again increasing my pace, I feel that tightness coiling inside me as his head hits my G-spot.
“That's it, baby. Ride the fuck out of me. Ride me until you come.” He slaps my ass cheek and the vibrations send me over the edge. I explode around him, pulsing around him as I ride out my orgasm.
“Keep going,” he huffs leaning into my chest and taking handfuls of my ass to keep me going, taking what he needs until I feel him start to throb. He groans and follows me over the edge, filling me. I love feeling close to him in this way.
A key in the door sends Nathan up with us still locked together, his arms wrapped around me as he runs us both into the bedroom.
He drops me into the bed and laughs. “Frankie.” He says leaning over me with his palms on the bed. “And the dog walker. I just realized he wasn't here when we came in.”
I can hear the faint sound of dog paws on the marble, then the sink running and a treat hitting the silver bowl. And cooing as the front door closes.
“No more sex in the living room during the day.” I laugh pulling the sheet around me.
“Next time I'll make sure to text them.” He says collapsing next to me. As if we ever have time, one second he’s looking at me, provoking me, and the next I’m pouncing on him.
He props up on his elbow, head in his hand. “You're amazing,” he says looking over my face in that way that makes my heart beat faster. “I love the way you blush every time I tell you that. And how you do it no matter what language I'm speaking.”
“It's not fair, I can't make you blush,”
“If I were capable of it, you would have done it. But you make feel it, right here,” he takes my wrist and lays my palm in the center of how chest. “You make me feel so much. And so much I haven't felt before… you make me better than I have ever been. And make me feel whole for the first time in so long. Everything I've said and done is because I love you, everything we have together is real. Please don't forget that.” He kisses the palm of my hand closing his eyes hard against something in his mind.
Concern has me reaching for him. “I can't forget anything we've done together, you've done the same for me, Nathan. You've made me feel alive again for the first time since I was attacked, you've shown me there's no place for fear inside of me. You've helped me see my own strength. Maybe I would have found it on my own, but you got me there quicker.”
He pulls me into him again. “I love you.” He whispers sleepily.
“I love you, too.” I run my fingers through his chest hair.
It doesn’t take long until we’re both asleep.
It takes me the rest of the week to nail down the specifics of the date I’m taking Nathan on. I want it to be perfect. Nathan has set the bar high when it comes to romancing. But I hope to come close anyway.
He’s been tense all week, he doesn’t really tell me why. He just says it's some stuff about work, but he won’t go into specifics and I don’t ask, figuring he just wants to relax when he’s home. It’s the one area where I’m not sure how to act. We’re practically living together. Everything is comfortable, almost too comfortable like we have been living together for years. And I tell myself to take it slow, give him space because that’s what he’s used to. Let him warm up to having someone else in that space with him.
On Saturday I get up early and get ready for the day, double checking everything on the itinerary. Literally.
At around nine I whip up a quick breakfast of eggs and toast with thick slices of bacon and some espresso- I’m finally getting the hang of the machine- and deliver it to Nathan in bed.
He looks at me lazily and smiles. “Mon ange,” He says his voice husky with sleep. His arms open wide, welcoming me to sit beside him. “Thank you, this is wonderful.” He takes my hand and kisses the back of it.
I grin. And dig into my own plate. Who would have thought I would love domesticity so much.
As soon as he’s finished I wriggle from his roaming hands and shoo him into the bathroom to get ready for our adventure.
I recline against the headboard appreciating the view of him walking completely naked from the bathroom to closet. He’s purposely putting every ounce of swagger into his strut and I dig my fingers into pillows to keep from jumping him.
When will this new relationship buzz wear off? A year? Two? Never?
Looking over Nathan's body, I'm pretty sure it'll be never.
Once he’s dressed in dark jeans and a cream colored sweater, we head downstairs. I’m starting to realize this is about as casual as Nathan dresses, aside from pajamas and gym clothes. Even then the man has the type of body that makes them look tailored.
“Where are you taking me?” He asks as we get into his Mercedes. He’s got this excited yet cautious look in his eye as I start the car and pull onto the street. He’s so used to being in control and it means a lot that he’s giving up the reigns in yet another part of his life.
“Just buckle up and enjoy the ride, Mr. Erickson.” I say feeling out the car. Damn, it feels good to be behind the wheel. I haven’t driven in months, not since I moved to Paris. I can’t say it’s a cakewalk but it’s easier than I thought it would be driving in Europe. And it’s a Mercedes, it handles and purrs like a racecar and a part of me wants to take it out into the barren country to really put the pedal to the metal.
I’m clearly not cool enough to be driving this car.
I pull onto a narrow boulevard and park. Nathan looks out of the window at businesses he thinks might be our destination.
I grab his hand when he gets out
and joins me on the sidewalk. “Can’t say I’ve been here before.” He says, as I pull him along.
“No, I didn’t suspect you would.” I grin at him mischievously. He bites the corner of his lip and I think he might actually be a bit scared.
We follow a small crowd down a narrow passage between two buildings. It’s wide enough to be comfortable but just so.
Wisteria drips from high on the buildings. A few cafe tables sit on either side of the alley as it starts to widen. A little cafe big enough for just four customers to stand inside wafts fragrant artisanal blends out onto the walkway, a beignet cart next to it makes my mouth water at the scent of powdered sugar and fried dough.
As we walk, the alley becomes big enough to accommodate a crowd, and good thing, because it’s bustling.
Tables and tents neatly lined up against the buildings. Vendors selling crafts, art, and antiques.
This is the part I was most skeptical about. I wasn't sure if Nathan would enjoy this type of thing. I glance up at him and he’s grinning, clearly catching on to my plan. “Do you like it?” I ask.
He nods looking around and taking it all in. “I love it, a place I’ve never been that doesn’t include debauchery of any sort.” He kisses me and squeezes my hand tighter, “Perfect.” He whispers then tugs me along to a nearby vendor of antiques.
Two hours later we have quite the haul. A set of vintage Louis Vuitton trunks that I suspect are also for my benefit, but Nathan’s parading them as decor for his apartment after he caught me fawning over them. He’s also picked up a few vintage instruments for his studio. The car is packed to near capacity when we head to our next stop.
He already figured out the plan for today but he still seems excited about it all, and that thrills me. To do something for him that he’s never done before. He’s flown me to heights of luxury and decadence I could have only dreamed. And I’ve brought him down to earth with… normalcy.
The movie theater is what you would want to find in Paris, housed in a beautiful historical building but completely modern on the inside.
