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Authors: Melanie Harlow
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no idea what it will be.”
“In life or in Paris?”
I smiled. “Both.”
Triumph danced in his eyes. “So you’re staying.”
“I’m staying. But!” I held up one finger. “I still want the rest of my day with you as tour guide.”
“I’m all yours.”
Are you?
I watched him bring the rim of the glass to his lips and drink, and I imagined the wine slipping into his mouth, between his teeth, sliding over his tongue. The image was so erotic I squeezed my thighs together against the gush of arousal between my legs.
Whoa, Nelly.
Picking up my own glass, I looked out the window and sipped, trying to recall the last time I’d been really good and hot before even being touched. I used to get excited thinking about Tucker’s good looks and hard body, but I’d learned pretty quickly he wasn’t quite the sexual dynamo his reputation made him out to be. My gut feeling was that he’d had a lot of one-nighters with girls who didn’t come back for seconds, and that suited him just fine. It meant he never had to get to know anyone sexually, really spend time learning what they wanted, what they needed, what they liked.
Not that he’d done that with me either.
Frowning, I watched a couple kiss before parting on the sidewalk outside. I’d tried—I’d really tried—to be the kind of woman a man desired in bed. I made it perfectly clear I was willing to try different things—not only willing but interested—and I offered myself in every way, but he just wasn’t interested in changing his routine. Because it worked for him, every time.
What an asshole. Why did I ever think he was good enough?
“Hey, you. No frowning.”
I looked over at Lucas. “Sorry. I was just thinking.”
“What about?”
I finished my wine and set the glass down with a clank. “Sex.”
Lucas’s eyebrows shot up. “Should I get the check?”
Dissolving into giggles, I dug into my bag for my wallet and took out my credit card. “Yes, but not for that reason. I want to see more Paris today. And I want to pay for lunch.”
“No.” Lucas pushed my hand away when I tried to lay down the card. “My treat. I chose an expensive bottle of wine.”
“So what? I loved it! Please let me pay for lunch. You’ve been so nice to spend this entire day showing me around.”
“I wanted to do that. It was my idea, remember?”
“I know, but—”
“But nothing. Put your card away. You can buy our next bottle of wine, OK?”
I dropped my hand to my lap, nodding once. “I like the way you think, Lucas Fournier.”
#
Outside the restaurant, Lucas asked what I wanted to do next.
Make out with you.
The thought slammed into my head with astonishing speed, and I tried to banish it just as quickly. What if he wasn’t feeling any chemistry between us?
“Hmmm. Let’s see—we’ve done a monument and a cemetery, so I’ll vote for a museum or a cathedral.”
Lucas looked skyward, where the sun was trying hard to peek through heavy clouds. “Well, the light’s not awesome for stained glass windows but I think it might be even worse tomorrow, so let’s do a cathedral.”
“Notre-Dame?”
“You got it.”
We took the Metro to a stop a few blocks from the Seine, and rather than switch to another line to get closer, we decided to walk. The day had warmed up and gotten a little humid, so I shrugged out of my sweater and tied it around my waist.
“So I have to ask,” said Lucas, who’d been pretty quiet since the restaurant. “Why were you thinking about sex before?”
Because watching you drink wine made me hot in the pants. I glanced over at him and decided to go with a different reason. “Because Tucker was boring in bed.”
“What?”
I held up my hands. “Truth. I used to offer, in an effort to improve what was not a very interesting or mutually satisfying part of our relationship, to do more fun things than we were doing, but he had a routine that worked for him and didn’t really feel it was necessary to deviate
“In life or in Paris?”
I smiled. “Both.”
Triumph danced in his eyes. “So you’re staying.”
“I’m staying. But!” I held up one finger. “I still want the rest of my day with you as tour guide.”
“I’m all yours.”
Are you?
I watched him bring the rim of the glass to his lips and drink, and I imagined the wine slipping into his mouth, between his teeth, sliding over his tongue. The image was so erotic I squeezed my thighs together against the gush of arousal between my legs.
Whoa, Nelly.
Picking up my own glass, I looked out the window and sipped, trying to recall the last time I’d been really good and hot before even being touched. I used to get excited thinking about Tucker’s good looks and hard body, but I’d learned pretty quickly he wasn’t quite the sexual dynamo his reputation made him out to be. My gut feeling was that he’d had a lot of one-nighters with girls who didn’t come back for seconds, and that suited him just fine. It meant he never had to get to know anyone sexually, really spend time learning what they wanted, what they needed, what they liked.
Not that he’d done that with me either.
Frowning, I watched a couple kiss before parting on the sidewalk outside. I’d tried—I’d really tried—to be the kind of woman a man desired in bed. I made it perfectly clear I was willing to try different things—not only willing but interested—and I offered myself in every way, but he just wasn’t interested in changing his routine. Because it worked for him, every time.
What an asshole. Why did I ever think he was good enough?
“Hey, you. No frowning.”
I looked over at Lucas. “Sorry. I was just thinking.”
“What about?”
I finished my wine and set the glass down with a clank. “Sex.”
Lucas’s eyebrows shot up. “Should I get the check?”
Dissolving into giggles, I dug into my bag for my wallet and took out my credit card. “Yes, but not for that reason. I want to see more Paris today. And I want to pay for lunch.”
“No.” Lucas pushed my hand away when I tried to lay down the card. “My treat. I chose an expensive bottle of wine.”
“So what? I loved it! Please let me pay for lunch. You’ve been so nice to spend this entire day showing me around.”
“I wanted to do that. It was my idea, remember?”
“I know, but—”
“But nothing. Put your card away. You can buy our next bottle of wine, OK?”
I dropped my hand to my lap, nodding once. “I like the way you think, Lucas Fournier.”
#
Outside the restaurant, Lucas asked what I wanted to do next.
Make out with you.
The thought slammed into my head with astonishing speed, and I tried to banish it just as quickly. What if he wasn’t feeling any chemistry between us?
“Hmmm. Let’s see—we’ve done a monument and a cemetery, so I’ll vote for a museum or a cathedral.”
Lucas looked skyward, where the sun was trying hard to peek through heavy clouds. “Well, the light’s not awesome for stained glass windows but I think it might be even worse tomorrow, so let’s do a cathedral.”
“Notre-Dame?”
“You got it.”
We took the Metro to a stop a few blocks from the Seine, and rather than switch to another line to get closer, we decided to walk. The day had warmed up and gotten a little humid, so I shrugged out of my sweater and tied it around my waist.
“So I have to ask,” said Lucas, who’d been pretty quiet since the restaurant. “Why were you thinking about sex before?”
Because watching you drink wine made me hot in the pants. I glanced over at him and decided to go with a different reason. “Because Tucker was boring in bed.”
“What?”
I held up my hands. “Truth. I used to offer, in an effort to improve what was not a very interesting or mutually satisfying part of our relationship, to do more fun things than we were doing, but he had a routine that worked for him and didn’t really feel it was necessary to deviate
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