“I told you I’m not good at them.” He mirrored my stance. “Besides, I’ve never been in love.”
“So you’re always the one who ends it?”
His frown deepened. “Yes.”
“But if you’d wanted more, any one of those women would have stayed with you?”
Oh, he didn’t like that. “I didn’t say that.”
“But you think it.”
This time Mauricio glared at me.
I took a mental step back from the scene and wanted to smack myself for killing the mood. What was wrong with me? Why was I angry? Mauricio was exactly who he claimed to be. He was being the charming, attentive Paris fling I’d said I was looking for.
It shouldn’t matter how big his ego was or that he didn’t care about the history of the island.
“Tell me, Wren, if you’re so great, why aren’t you in a relationship?”
My cheeks warmed, but before I had time to feel the sting of his question, he smiled. Have I mentioned how beautiful his smile was? It was the kind that could stop a woman in her tracks. Even me. “It could be my unfiltered mouth,” I admitted, my own smile blooming.
He lowered his arms and leaned down until his breath tickled my lips. “No, your mouth is perfect.”
So was his. I swallowed hard. “My obsession with engineering?”
His thumb traced my jaw, then the outline of my lips. “No, that’s actually a turn-on.”
“How judgmental I can be?” I whispered.
“Shut up and kiss me, Wren,” he commanded.
I threw my arms around his neck and did just that. Right there on the corner of the street, I let myself go and kissed him with the hunger that had been building within me all day. Our bodies ground together. Our tongues danced. His hands gripped my hips. My hands ran wildly through his hair.
When he ended the kiss, we were both shaking. He tucked my head beneath his chin and hugged me to his chest as our ragged breathing slowly returned to normal. “Holy shit, Wren.”
Still humming from our kiss, I let myself savor the feel of my cheek on his strong chest before I murmured, “I’m sorry about what I said. Can I claim jet lag brain? I don’t normally insult my dates.”
I felt as well as heard his chuckle. “No need to apologize. I’m the ass. My family would love you—they’d say you’re exactly what I deserve.”
My chest tightened. It would have been too easy to forget again that we had a set expiration date. Mauricio was certainly gifted at building the fantasy. I realized why I was angry—I was afraid I might not be able to stay emotionally uninvolved. With just a smile he could crack through my defenses.
And I needed those defenses.
I had responsibilities—a life without room for a man like this.
My hand fisted on his chest, and I slammed it against him. He encircled it. “Look at me, Kitten.”
I reluctantly raised my head. “Yes?”
Our eyes met and held. “Don’t apologize for saying what you think, for expecting better from people. I don’t see Paris the way you do, but I’d like to. I came here looking for answers, but I’m beginning to wonder if I wasn’t asking all the wrong questions.”
I shook my head. “Stop. I know I said I wanted romance, but please don’t shovel it on so thick. We’ve both been very clear about where this is going.”
He was quiet for a moment; then a hint of a smile returned to his eyes. “Oh yes, a week of hot-and-heavy sex, temporary monogamy, lingerie, a silent vibrator, and some crepes. Romance—but no bullshit.”
I unclenched my hand, laying it flat against his chest. “When you say it that way, it sounds . . .”
“Amazing.” A teasing light shone in his eyes. “Minou.”
“Don’t you dare.” My jaw dropped at his use of the naughty French term for cat. I smacked his chest and went to step back, but he held me to him. “Oh, and don’t think I’m not going to google French terms for male genitalia—”
His smile sent my threat straight out of my head. He whispered into my ear, “Why google something I could teach you . . . while referring to a rather impressive example.”
“I wish I could think of something snarky to say.” I stroked myself across his hard-on.
His growl was guttural. “I wish I could think about anything beyond fucking you.”
I’d never been a woman men fawned over. I didn’t drive them wild, test their control. Whether it was true or pure fantasy, I loved the idea that Mauricio might be as affected by me as I was by him. Cecile said there was nothing better than good sex without the pressure of more.
I hadn’t agreed with her.
I wasn’t sure I was capable of it.
But hot damn I wanted to be with Mauricio.
Not after the tour—now.
I opened my mouth to say just that, but before I had a chance to, Mauricio stepped back and said, “I’d like a second chance at the question you asked me.”
Had I asked something? Who the hell could remember? “Okay.”
He turned so we were both looking down the center street of Île Saint-Louis. “When I look down this road, I see possibilities—to hear what you know about the area, to see what you’ll want at that little shop, to buy ice cream for you from Berthillon, then taste it on your lips. I know a boutique nearby where we can buy that toy you want. I want to be there the first time you use it. I want to see you learn to please yourself; then I’ll show you how to make it even better. Are you wet just thinking about coming for me? If we were alone, my fingers would already be inside you. My tongue would already know the taste of you.” The heat of him behind me had me wanting to turn and throw myself back into his arms, but I forced myself to stay as I was. He bent next to my ear and asked, “How is that for romance with no bullshit? Is that what you’re looking for?”
“It’ll do,” I croaked, then cleared my throat. My sex pulsed in anticipation.
He kissed my neck just below my ear. “Glad I finally got it right.”
Mauricio took my hand in his, and we began to walk down the sidewalk together. The buildings were still as impressive, the cobblestone just as old, but all my attention was focused on the man beside me.
We went into the shops, and some of them might have had the trinkets I’d said I wanted to purchase for friends back home, but I didn’t buy anything. I told him more about the history of Paris than he likely wanted to know, but he looked interested. We swapped college and childhood stories over paninis we ate on a bench down on the quay by the river. I don’t know if I took a bite of what I ordered. The day had taken on a dreamlike quality.
And the ice cream? It made our kisses deliciously cold and sweet.
I would have followed him anywhere that day, but when we left the island I clung to his hand because I knew where we were headed. There’s a difference between agreeing to have sex with a man and going shopping with him for a sex toy.
One was a rush.
The other was equal parts exciting and scary.
I tried to look casual as we walked into a small boutique with lingerie displayed in the window. Mauricio spoke to the female shopkeeper in fluent French. She answered him, then asked me something and waited for a response. I simply nodded even though I had no idea what she’d said.
Mauricio shook his head and said something in French, then murmured to me in English, “She said we’re welcome to look around and asked if we’d like her to explain how any of them work. I told her you were already a knowledgeable connoisseur.”
I playfully tightened my fingers around his. “I’m surprised you didn’t say you’re a sex toy guru and I’m your convert.”
He smiled and arched his eyebrows.
I gasped and laughed. “You did. That’s exactly what you said to her, isn’t it?”
“I may have implied I was capable of explaining anything you needed to know.” The smile he shot me melted away my mock outrage. “Did you really want her lingering with us? I didn’t.”
It was impossible not to
smile back at him. “Fine, but if you call me ‘kitten’ while we’re here, I will tie your balls in a sheepshank knot.”
“That’s a very specific threat”—he pulled at the neck of his shirt—“and a man’s package is nothing to joke about breaking.”
“Then don’t call me a vagina, not even in French.”
He blinked a few times, looked like he was holding back a laugh, and said, “Understood.” He cleared his throat. “Now that we’ve cleared that up, why don’t we check out what they have in stock?”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
MAURICIO
The layout of the store was designed to put customers at ease. I led Wren through it to a back area, where the more intimate items were displayed. Although this particular store was new to me, my first French lover had taken me to a similar one. She’d been twenty years my senior, and I’d been wide eyed . . . the way Wren was as she stood before a wall of dildos and butt plugs.
The advice I’d received long ago came back to me. I caressed Wren’s back as I spoke. “The mistake people make is thinking they should like everything here. No one wants everything they see on a menu, and they don’t feel strange about having a preference when it comes to ordering something to eat. This is no different. First, what is your spice level?”
She was tense beneath my touch, but she didn’t look like she wanted to bolt. She pointed to a double dildo about the size of her arm. “That’s too much.”
I would have laughed, but she was serious. “I agree.”
She picked up a box that contained a multimotored vibrator with several moving parts and read the directions in English. “This one looks complicated.”
“I’m sure you could master it, but there are simpler ones.”
She scanned the shelf with the diligence of someone performing a quality inspection. So adorably fascinated I couldn’t look away. She picked up a whip, cracked it, then put it back down. “I think I’d punch you if you whipped me with that.”
Was she deliberately testing my ability to keep a straight face? “I’ve never been punched during sex and can’t say I want to be, so keep looking.”
We made our way over the shelves of vibrators. She scanned the items, put her hands on her hips, and pursed her lips. “I didn’t know there were so many kinds.”
I cleared my throat. It was difficult to think with all my blood heading south, but I wanted her to leave with something she’d enjoy. “Since you said you’re looking for something quiet, I’d suggest something like this.” I chose an insertable vibrator that was designed to be worn beneath clothing. “The remote control is an added benefit.”
She spun to face me. “And who’d be in charge of it? You?”
Two could play the ultraserious game. I made a show of looking over the box carefully before saying, “I don’t see my name in the instructions. Strange. I guess that means either one of us could hold the remote.” A hint of uncertainty entered her eyes, and I felt like an ass for teasing her. She’d said that back home she was one of the guys. I could see how her straightforward nature might intimidate them. Wren was an intelligent woman who wasn’t afraid to say what she thought. She was also more sensitive than she first appeared. “Wren, I’m just giving you shit. I don’t care if we leave with all of these toys or none of them. I’d gladly fuck you all night or leave you at your door with a kiss. If this isn’t fun for both of us, we’re doing something wrong.”
She searched my face, then nodded slowly. “You’d really be okay with ending the day with a kiss?”
A slow anger burned through me. Had she been with someone who hadn’t been? If I learned she had, I’d find the bastard and teach him what real men think of pieces of shit like that. “Always, Wren. Don’t ever be with someone who isn’t. Not sexually. Not even for coffee.”
She placed her hand flat on my chest. My heartbeat accelerated beneath it. “You’re not supposed to be a nice guy too.”
I brought her hand to my lips and kissed it. “So many rules. Come out and play with me, Wren. No pressure. We’ll see where this goes.”
That beautiful blush of hers returned. “What happened to ‘You’re mine until Saturday’?” Her mimic of my voice was comical.
I wiggled my eyebrows at her. “I can be that man, too, if you like it.”
Her eyes darkened with desire. “I did like it—even more now that I met this side of you. You role-play. I’ve always wanted to do that.” Her hand slid down my stomach and cupped my throbbing cock. “I’ll be disappointed if you leave me with a kiss.”
“Understood,” I said in a strangled voice. Holy shit. Her hand trailed its way back to my pecs, then fell away, and she simply held my gaze.
We stood there, not speaking. Not moving. So turned on I swear we could have come without touching.
The sound of the box dropping from my hand to the floor brought us back to the moment. We both bent to retrieve it and nearly knocked heads. With a laugh, I let her get it and straightened.
She looked the box over, then smiled at me. “So, my sex toy guru, what would you have your student do with this?”
I shuddered and groaned. I wanted to steal her away back to my hotel and show her, but I also didn’t want to rush through the anticipation of being with her. Had I ever wanted a woman as much as I wanted her? Fuck, had there been women before her? Did they have names? Faces? They faded away as I looked into her eyes. “Let’s buy it. I’m sure they’ll let you have a moment in their changing room.”
“You want me to use it now?” Her voice rose as she asked the question.
I lowered mine and whispered in her ear, “I want you to want to use it now. They sell batteries. This place is discreet. And we’re not done with the bus tour.”
“No.”
“Okay,” I said, but I smiled. No wasn’t what I saw in her eyes.
“Okay,” she said in a rush. “I’ll do it. Oh my God, I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this.”
The shopkeeper came over. I explained the situation to her. She didn’t even blink. I paid for the toy and watched as Wren headed into a changing room with a pack of batteries and our purchase.
I stood just outside the door. After what seemed like endless rustling of packaging being opened, Wren said, “Mauricio?”
“Yes?” I leaned closer to the door.
“You can’t hear it, can you?”
I covered my face with a hand and gave in to a chuckle. “Not a sound.”
“Once it’s in, no one will be able to, right?”
“I’ll warn you if I hear so much as a peep.” I thought about what a novice she was and asked, “Would you like me to buy some lube?”
Her voice was deeper and husky when she answered. “No. Thank you. It’s already in. And, wow. That’s quite a motor it has.”
I swallowed hard and took a deep, calming breath. “You can adjust it up and down to suit what you like.”
“Do I just leave it on?”
“Whatever feels good.” You know the pill warning that suggests calling one’s doctor if experiencing a four-hour erection? I’d always found that commercial amusing, but now that I was experiencing one, I could see how it might be a problem. A man’s brain does funny things when it goes without blood for an extended period of time.
When she walked out of the changing room with an excited flush on her cheeks and waving the toy remote proudly at me, I saw forever with her. The whole fucking thing . . . five kids, holidays with my family, visits with hers. I imagined her in my bed, my car, my house. Naked. Dressed. Laughing together. Crying. It shook me to the core and left me open mouthed and staring at her.
She walked right up to me and whispered, “You really can’t hear it?”
My mouth moved but no words came out.
She gave me a funny look. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”
I shook my head. “I’m fine.” She looked at me expectantly, and I realized I hadn’t answered her question. “Nothing. Absolutely silent.”
“Even now?
” she asked and closed her eyes halfway. “That setting might be too good to do in public.”
Only because I knew such boutiques frown on anything graphic happening inside their store, I took her by the hand and hauled her outside. Once on the sidewalk, I pulled her to me and kissed her long and deep.
When I ended the kiss, we were both breathing raggedly. I kept her tucked against me as I tried to regain control.
“I can’t,” she said softly, and a piece of me died.
I’d told her I was okay with whatever she wanted, and I’d meant it. But, holy fuck, it wouldn’t be easy if she said no. “Can’t what?”
“I can’t get on a bus with strangers and children with this thing in me.”
I relaxed. “Okay. So, is this you begging me to stop the tour?”
She laughed softly, causing her tits to move deliciously up and down on my chest. “I guess it is.”
“I rented out a penthouse not too far from here.”
She moved back and forth against me, nearly making me once again incapable of speech. She touched a button on the remote and gasped. “Yes, but on one condition . . .”
“Yes?” If she’d asked me for my fortune, I would have given it to her. My baseball card collection? It would have been hers. My signed jersey from Tom Brady? Done. Whatever.
“Can you talk dirty to me again? That was hot.”
I hauled her to my side, and after I hailed a cab, I described in filthy detail every last thing I wanted to do to her. As we rode across town, I continued to whisper scenarios to her, highlighting them with my favorite techniques.
She came once in the back of the taxi. Quietly, covertly. She closed her eyes, gripped my hand, and bit her bottom lip as it washed over her. I adjusted my position to block the view of the driver. That moment, that gift, was all mine to enjoy.
When we pulled up to my hotel, I paid the driver and guided Wren to the private elevator that went only to the top floor. As the doors closed behind us, I kissed her, but I kept myself in check. What I wanted to do to her didn’t belong on a security video cam.
Once the elevator doors opened into the penthouse, it was game on. I lifted her by her hips. She wrapped her legs around my waist, and I carried her across the foyer toward the bedroom. She ground her vibrating sex against me and opened her mouth wide for my tongue.
The Wild One Page 8
