French Connection Vol. 1

by M. S. Parker

  They were both there when I arrived ten minutes late. Since they were still working their way through Webster and Steinberg, they would've left work together, just like the four of us used to do. I felt another stab of nostalgia as I made my way over to the table. I sat across from them and tried not to look sad at the empty chair next to me.

  It must not have worked because the first thing Leslie said after we exchanged greetings was about Krissy.

  “She called a couple days ago to tell me how well things were going with DeVon and the business. Apparently, it's getting really serious between the two of them.” Leslie narrowed her bright green eyes at me. “She also said she'd tried to call you but kept getting voicemail.”

  I felt a stab of guilt. I'd been working on my proposal for the congressman pretty much every waking moment and hadn't had a chance to call Krissy back yet. “It's been a busy week.”

  Dena and Leslie exchanged one of those glances that Krissy and I used to have, the kind that doesn't need any sort of explanation because two minds are in sync.

  “I've been working my ass off on this proposal for Congressman White.” I hated how defensive I sounded.

  “How's that going?” Dena asked, deflecting the conversation.

  I gave a frustrated sigh and took a gulp of the Lemon Drop that had just been put in front of me. Usually I loved the things, but tonight, they just made me sad. No matter what we'd ended up drinking at the end of the night, Krissy and I had always started off with Lemon Drops.

  “That well?” Leslie asked.

  “I put so much time into it and I get a call this afternoon from the congressman saying he wants to table any discussion about it until after the election in November.”

  “Seriously?” Leslie tossed her curls over her shoulder. “This isn't exactly the kind of issue that divides people. You'd think he'd want to be showing that he's taking a firm stance against human trafficking.”

  “You'd think,” I agreed dryly, draining my drink. “I just feel like I wasted all this time, sacrificed so much, to get this done and it's all been for nothing.”

  “Sacrificed?” Dena's voice was soft. “What's going on, Carrie?”

  I looked at her, feeling comforted by her concern. I dropped my eyes to the appetizers we always nibbled on. I wasn't hungry.

  “I feel like Gavin and I are drifting apart,” I confessed. Saying it out-loud made me wince.

  “Hon, you're just getting over the honeymoon stage,” Leslie said. She popped a piece of bread into her mouth. “Trust me. It's normal.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “No offense, Leslie, but when your longest relationship has been with Lexi the barista over on Third Avenue, I'm not so sure you're the one to be giving me relationship advice.”

  She shrugged and grinned, accepting my comment without denial. “Just saying.”

  “I'm sure it's just a phase,” Dena said. “The two of you have been through so much, it's bound to make things feel weird when everything's becoming routine.”

  “When was the last time you two had sex?” Leslie asked.

  I glared at her but her smile only got bigger. I might have lost many of my inhibitions when it came to talking about sex when I was with Gavin, but it didn't mean it was open season in public.

  “Come on, Carrie,” Leslie coaxed, giving me her ‘loosen up’ look. “I'm not asking what positions you did it in. I just want to know how long it's been.”

  “A couple days.” I said. “Friday night after we went out to eat.” I flushed. “And the day before that too. At my office.”

  “Damn.” Leslie laughed. “You're getting more than I am.”

  I brushed my hair out of my face as I frowned. “It's not the lack of sex, even though it’s less often than it had been before.” I struggled to define what I was feeling. I wasn't sure I wanted to share, even with my friends, but I had to talk to someone and, for once, it couldn't be Gavin. “There's something missing.” I glanced up at them. “Don't get me wrong. It's still amazing and he can do things...” My face heated up. “But the passion that had been there before, it's gone. There's no spark.”

  “Do you still love him?” Dena asked.

  “Yes,” I answered immediately. “More than anything.”

  “More than anything?” For once, Leslie was being serious. A few seconds ticked by while she chewed her lip. “More than your work?”

  I flinched. How could she ask that? “Of course,” I snapped.

  She held up both hands in a gesture of surrender. “I'm just saying that if you'll ignore your oldest friend because you're working...”

  “Love has nothing to do with it.” I scowled at her. “The work I do is important. It saves lives.”

  “Carrie,” Dena spoke before I could really get going. “We know that what you're doing is important, but you have to take care of yourself too. And, if you really do love him, Gavin is part of that. If you don't take the time to work on your relationship, you're going to lose him.”

  I slumped back in my chair. Dena never talked that much outside of the courtroom, so I knew when she made a little speech, it was something I needed to listen to, no matter how much I hated it.

  “Taking some time for yourself and Gavin doesn't make you a bad person,” Leslie said.

  I closed my eyes for a moment. That's what it was, I knew. I didn't enjoy working more than I enjoyed being with Gavin, but I felt guilty if I wasn't doing whatever I could to save people. I ran myself ragged, barely able to excuse myself for needing time to sleep. And it was killing Gavin and me.

  I thought back to the other night and how bad I’d felt asking Gavin to reschedule his important trip. I wanted to make it up to him but was just so tired, so overwhelmed, all I really wanted to do was go straight to sleep. So instead of being honest with him, or even honest with myself, I'd purposefully taken control and done everything I could to get us both off as quickly as possible. And it hadn't even been a warm-up for something longer. I'd just been so tired and knew I had a ton more work to do the next day. It had been more about finishing than it had been about being close.

  “You're right,” I finally admitted. I looked up and found my friends wearing nearly identical expressions of concern. “I have been feeling guilty any time I'm not working.”

  Leslie reached across the table and took my hand. “You can't fix the world, Carrie. And it doesn't mean you're a bad person if, every once in a while, you take a break from trying. Your own personal world is important too.”

  We drank a bit more in silence before I spoke again. “Gavin has a business trip to France coming up and he wanted me to come with him, but I had my meeting with Congressman White scheduled that day. Now that it's been canceled, should I tell Gavin I want to go? I don't want to seem like I'm doing it out of some sense of obligation or anything like th––”

  “Go,” Dena said before I could even finish the last word.

  “She's right,” Leslie agreed. “You need to spend some time with your sweetie and what better place to do it than France?” She gave me an impish grin. “But if you don't want to go, can I?”

  I rolled my eyes and smiled as the mood lightened. As soon as I was done here, I'd call Gavin and ask him what I needed to pack. I wasn't sure what the dress code was for a business meeting about starting a sex club in the French Riviera.

  Chapter 8

  Gavin

  When Carrie told me about the congressman canceling on her, I was frustrated and upset for her, but I'd have been lying if I said I also hadn't been excited that she could come with me now. The first class cabin, complete with excellent champagne, would've been dull and boring without her. With her at my side, cramped coach would've been more than tolerable.

  Not that I was about to give up our seats.

  I reached over and squeezed Carrie's hand. “Have I told you yet how beautiful you are?”

  She blushed and I felt a surge of love go through me. I loved that I could still make her flush with a compliment. And I meant it. She
was wearing a cute little dress with half-sleeves and a hemline that hit her thighs at the most frustrating place¸ short enough to tempt me with those gorgeous legs of hers, but long enough to be decent. I was thinking anything but decent thoughts when I looked at her.

  “More champagne, Sir?” The flight attendant leaned closer than necessary as she refilled my half-empty glass. She smiled down at me and I automatically smiled back. I felt Carrie stiffen next to me and I squeezed her hand again. It might've been a bit mean, but I was actually glad she was jealous. I wasn't flirting with the attendant, but it was nice to know that seeing someone flirt with me still annoyed the woman I loved. If she hadn't cared, I'd have been worried.

  As the blonde walked away, Carrie spoke in a half-serious, half-joking tone. “Look at the menu all you want, but you better not even think about eating anywhere but home.”

  I grinned and leaned close to her ear, keeping my voice low. “Babe, you're the only one I want to eat.”

  Her face went bright red and she glared at me. No matter how much I'd managed to loosen her up, I could still embarrass her, especially when it came to talking about sex in public.

  Taking pity on her, I changed the subject for the moment. “I just realized there’s something I don’t know about you. Have you ever been to France?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Sure, Gavin. I went all the time while I was juggling college and working as a lawyer.”

  Part of me wanted to threaten to spank her for her smart mouth, but I refrained. I'd promised myself that I'd never try to push what I wanted on her.

  “I've been to Cannes twice and it's absolutely gorgeous,” I said. “There's the Promenade de la Croisette, this spectacular avenue along the waterfront. There are beaches and restaurants, boutiques. Plenty of places to get good food and to shop.” I put my arm around her shoulders. “Or we could check out the Musée d'Art et d'Historie de Provence.” The French words rolled off my tongue and she raised an eyebrow, impressed. “It's an eighteenth-century mansion that has artifacts over thousands of years. Maybe more. I've never been there myself.”

  “You speak French, don't you?” she asked.

  I shrugged. “Enough to get my point across.”

  She leaned up and spoke in my ear. “How do you say 'I'd rather just stay in our hotel and fuck your brains out' in French?”

  My jaw dropped and I stared at her. Her face was flushed and I could tell she was embarrassed by what she'd said. That she'd done it on her own, without any prompting by me sent blood rushing south. It was all I could do not to take her in my arms and savage her mouth, run my hands all over her body, other passengers be damned.

  She grinned at me, her eyes dancing. I could see she was pleased to have shocked me. “Now, about the club.”

  I blinked, surprised by the change of subject.

  “Do you have any specific plans in mind?”

  Here came a conversation I really didn't want to have, especially not after what had just happened, but I knew it was better to tell her now, rather than later. She'd be furious if I kept it from her.

  “I don't know anything about the site yet,” I said. “But I do know that Vincent wants it to be in the style of the original Club Privé.” I hesitated, wondering if she was going to need me to be more specific.

  “That makes sense,” she said amicably. “I'm sure France has plenty of dance clubs, but one that caters to the desires of the rich and famous in Cannes would definitely be a gold mine.”

  My eyebrows shot up. Would it be possible for us to do this without any conflict? I approached the subject cautiously. “I'm surprised you're okay with it,” I admitted. “I'd thought you'd object to there being...” I chose my words carefully. “On-site sexual liaisons occurring.”

  “I'm not a prude, Gavin.” Carrie's voice seemed a bit tense, but she continued before I could tell her that I hadn't meant it like that. “My concern is only that the encounters be between consenting adults without the exchange of money. No one in the sex industry, forced or otherwise.”

  “Absolutely,” I agreed automatically. “No prostitutes of any kind.” Relief went through me. That had been much easier than I'd dreamed possible. Now, I just had to smooth over whatever it was that I'd said that had prompted the prude comment.

  “Is everything all right here, Sir?” The flight attendant was back and, unless I was mistaken, she'd hiked up her skirt a bit. She crouched down next to me, one of her full breasts pressing against my arm. “Because if there's anything I can do for you, anything at all, please don't hesitate to ask.”

  “That's it,” Carrie snapped.

  Oh shit. I looked over to see her eyes flashing. For a moment, I thought she was going to hit the flight attendant, but instead, Carrie stood and grabbed my hand.

  “Come with me.”

  I stood, confused about what was happening, but there was no way I was going to stop her. As we headed down the aisle, I put two and two together… and my cock did as well. It was hard in an instant, making it a bit interesting to walk. If I was right, Carrie was going to initiate something that even I had never done before.

  She glanced behind us, but didn't even hesitate as she reached for the door to the bathroom stall. She backed inside, pulling me after her. I could barely get the door shut behind me, but as she picked herself up to sit on the sink, I forgot about the tiny space we were in.

  She pulled her skirt up, giving me a glimpse of the creamy skin of her inner thighs and a hint of a pair of dark gray panties that matched her dress perfectly. With my gaze fixed between her legs, she pulled aside the crotch of her panties and slid her finger into her pussy.

  “Fuck,” I breathed.

  “That's the point,” she said. “Come on. We don't have much time.”

  I actually fumbled with my pants in my rush to get them open and I had a moment of thanks that we didn't have to mess with condoms. Then I was pushing inside of her tight, wet heat. I pressed my face against her neck, muffling my moans, and then I felt the sting of her teeth against the base of my throat and my body jerked. She cried out as I went too hard, but when I stilled, she wrapped her legs around my waist and pulled me toward her.

  “Je préfère juste rester dans notre hôtel et baise la cervelle,” I whispered.

  “What?” Her voice was barely audible.

  “That's how you say it in French,” I said as I drew back.

  “Just fuck me.” Her nails dug into my shoulders and I could feel them through the thin cotton of my shirt.

  That was all the encouragement I needed. I thrust into her as hard and fast as I dared, each of us trying to contain our cries of pleasure. And then...

  "Folks, we have begun our descent into Nice Côte d'Azur International Airport, we'll be at the gate in about twenty minutes. If you are up and about, please return to your seat now. Flight attendants, please prepare the cabin for landing. Thank you for flying with us today."

  “Fuck,” I growled.

  I felt a hand between our bodies, fingers brushing at the base of my cock as Carrie found her clit. A moment later, her body tensed around mine. I kept pumping, faster and harder into her pulsing pussy. I was so close; I needed to come to.

  A loud knock at the door broke my rhythm.

  “You need to vacate the bathroom.” A stern woman's voice came through the door.

  “Just a minute,” I practically shouted. My balls were aching, my cock throbbing with my need for release.

  “Now, Sir,” she said. “Or I'll be getting the key to unlock this door.”

  Carrie pushed at my chest and I cursed, knowing we were done. As much as she'd initiated and wanted this, the idea of being caught with our pants down, literally, terrified her.

  “Fine!” I snapped as I yanked up my pants. I was so hard it hurt and I winced as I tucked myself back into my boxer briefs, and then zipped up my pants.

  “Sorry,” Carrie mumbled, her cheeks flushed. She climbed down off of the sink and then glanced down. “I'm thinking I should walk i
n front of you.”

  I looked down to where I was sporting a very obvious and large erection. Yeah, that wasn't going away any time soon. “That's probably a good idea.”

  The flight attendant pounded on the door again, but before Carrie could open it, I leaned down and gave her a hard, fast kiss. “You owe me,” I said. “And I'm going to enjoy collecting.”

  Judging from the way her eyes brightened before she turned back toward the door, I had a feeling she was going to enjoy it almost as much as I would. It was almost enough to make up for the serious case of blue balls I was getting.

  Almost.

  Chapter 9

  Carrie

  I wasn't entirely sure what had come over me on the plane. All I knew was that I didn't like the way the flight attendant had been flirting with Gavin and I wanted to prove that I wasn't a prude, not even outside the bedroom. I'd remembered how insanely turned on I'd been when we'd fucked in the conference room, nearly getting caught by a janitor, and something inside me had just snapped. I wanted that feeling back. What I hadn't counted on was us reaching our destination before Gavin got to... arrive.

  I knew it wasn't really funny, but I couldn't stop smiling as we made our way back to our seats, my face burning as I passed by people who looked at us with knowing expressions. And, of course, Gavin's comments about me owing him had my already wet panties soaked clean through. I hoped he came through on his promise to collect. I missed the way he'd possessed me when we'd first started having sex. How he'd once told me that I was his, that he would be responsible for my pleasure.

  How either of us managed to sit still through the plane landing at the Nice airport and then wait for everyone to exit, I didn't know. After that, it was customs and security checkpoints, all the while both of our bodies were screaming for us to finish what we'd started. At least I didn't have any physical evidence of the strain I was under. Poor Gavin wasn't just sporting a decent hickey at the base of his neck, but he was still at least half-hard too.