Read Online Sleeping With Paris by Juliette Sobanet - Free Book Online Page A

with that, we ordered two shots of tequila, downed them like they were water and hit the dance floor.
    Not more than ten seconds after we started dancing, two decent-looking French guys made eyes at us from across the room, bolted across the dance floor and started dancing with us. They were both super skinny (surprise, surprise) and had short, military haircuts. Lexi immediately gravitated toward the dark-haired one and wrapped her arms around him. The blond one closed in on me, gripped my waist, and pushed me further into the center of the dance floor. I rested my arms on his bony shoulders and let all thoughts of the past week drift away as the alcohol numbed me.
    After dancing with the random, nameless French guy for about two songs, he finally spoke to me. 
    “ Vous êtes française ?” he shouted into my ear. The bass was bumping so loud, it was hard to hear anything other than the music.
    “ Non, je suis américaine .”
    “Oh, you speak zee English? You are . . . euh, how do you say . . . very pretty.”
    As I laughed at his typical, corny response, he shouted, “You want a drink?”
    He took my hand and led me over to the bar. For a split second, I remembered how Jeff had taken my hand and led me to the bar the night we first met. I didn’t feel any butterflies this time though.  
    We ordered two shots each and took them one right after the other. After the second shot, Nameless French Boy led me back out onto the dance floor so we could really start heating the place up. He slid his hands up and down my back as he pressed his body close to mine. I didn’t even notice if he was a good dancer because those shots had hit me pretty hard. Before I knew it, his lips were on mine and we were making out as if we were alone in my room and not in the middle of a crowded dance floor.
    I caught a glimpse of Lexi and the other nameless French boy next to us. They were doing the exact same thing.
    I wasn’t sure how long the dancing and kissing continued, but it felt great to relax in another man’s arms and forget about everything that had been happening. 
    At the end of the night, Nameless French Boy finally told me his name.
    “Frédéric,” he said with a grin. “And you?” he asked with his arms still wrapped around my waist.
    “Charlotte,” I stammered, giggling.
    “I love zat name. So beauteeful. And you, you are so beauteeful too. Maybe we can see each other zis week?”
    “Sure, when are you free?”
    “Well, I am an officer of zee police, so I work at zee daytime. But maybe at night I can see you? I can have your phone number?”
    After I scribbled my number on a napkin for Frédéric, he leaned down to give me one last passionate bar kiss. How romantic. I couldn’t say I didn’t enjoy it though.
    “I go to find my friend now . . . but I will miss you,” Frédéric said as he looked down at me longingly. Then he wiped a fake tear out from under his eye and said almost incomprehensibly, “I tear without you.”
    I laughed out loud. Come on— I tear ? What the hell was that supposed to mean? He was going to cry because he had to leave me?
    “I’m sure you’ll be okay, Freddy boy,” I said as I grabbed his hand and led him over to the corner of the bar where Lexi and her French dude were still going at it pretty hot and heavy. It was definitely time to go home.
    “Mmhmm,” Frédéric grunted, trying to get their attention.
    Lexi disentangled herself from Frédéric’s friend’s lips and shot us a devious grin. If we had waited any longer to come over here, they probably would’ve been kicked out of the bar for indecent exposure. This dude looked like he was just dying to rip her clothes off.
    “ On y va?” Frédéric asked Lexi’s new boy toy if he wanted to get going.
    “ Ouais ,” he answered reluctantly before he went in for another long, passionate kiss, much like the one Frédéric had just given me. Having already completed our make-out and dance session for the night,