by Rachel Lacey
“Flynn,” Ruby panted in his ear. “You’re killing me here.”
“Almost there, love.” He gave himself one long, slow stroke, almost overcome by the strength of his need, the desire to hear her come, to lose control while she whimpered and panted her release into his ear.
“Hurry.” Her voice had gone high-pitched again, the way it did right before she came.
“Slow down for me, Ruby.”
“You’re not dragging this out on purpose, are you?”
“Maybe a little,” he admitted. “I wasn’t ready for it to be over yet.”
“Flynn.” This time, her voice was definitely a rebuke, broken by a gasp. “You want to drag this out? Fine, stop touching yourself.”
He stilled his hand. “Why?”
“Just do it.” She gasped, her breaths coming in rapid pants, and then a low sound of relief.
Flynn’s cock throbbed so hard he thought he might come even without touching himself. He squeezed his eyes shut, listening to the sound of her orgasm, savoring the arousal curling around his spine, throbbing in his cock.
“Holy shit,” she whispered, sounding relaxed now. “Okay, now it’s your turn to slow down and wait for me.”
“Again so soon?” he asked, ridiculously aroused by the idea of her coming again for him.
“With this thing?” The buzzing started again. “I’ll be there with you in no time.”
“Okay, then.” If he had a few minutes to kill, he might as well get out of the rest of his clothes and get properly comfortable here in bed. “If I were there, I bet I could make you come even faster.”
“I bet you could too,” she said on a gasp. “You’re awfully good with your hands. And your mouth.”
“Wish I could come over there right now and show you.” He’d gotten out of his shirt, but now he had to pause and stroke himself, unable to bear the pressure in his cock.
“Where are you?” she asked, seeming to consider the possibility.
“I’m in Wales, almost three hours from London,” he told her, shoving his trousers down his legs and kicking them to the floor.
“That’s a shame,” she whispered. “But the combination of the vibrator and your voice is doing wonders anyway.”
“Glad to hear it,” he gritted as he began stroking himself in earnest. “Because I’m about to explode over here.”
“Tease yourself for me, Flynn,” she said, throwing his earlier words back at him.
“Getting harder to do, no pun intended.” He slowed his pace, taking several deep breaths to keep himself in check.
“I’m almost there.” She was panting again, and the buzzing got louder.
“Yes.” He let himself go, then, his fist moving at a frenzied pace as everything inside him clenched and tightened, centered in the throbbing need in his cock. Ruby whimpered, and it was the match that lit his fuse. His balls tightened as fire licked its way down his spine, and then he was coming in hot spurts against the sheets, groaning as release flowed through him. Vaguely, he was aware of Ruby moaning her own release in his ear, and then they were both quiet, breathing heavily.
“Goddamn,” he managed, his voice hoarse.
“That was one of the hottest things I’ve ever done,” she whispered. “I’m…I’m glad you called when you did.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“I’m going to Paris in the morning.” Her voice was soft, sleepy, satisfied. “Thanks for helping make London special for me.”
“I think you did that all on your own, but I’m glad I could be a part of it.”
“Goodnight, Flynn,” she whispered.
“Goodnight, Ruby.” He hung up the phone and lay there, sprawled across his hotel bed, too tired to move, but the ache in his chest—the one he felt every time he thought of never seeing Ruby again—felt a hundred times stronger now than it had earlier today.
Ruby stepped off the EuroStar train just before noon the next day, eyes wide as she pulled her rolling suitcase into Paris’s Gare du Nord train station. Here she was, entering her second new country in a week. She spoke a little bit of French. She’d taken classes in college, and so she’d been trying to decipher bits of conversation here and there ever since she boarded the train in London earlier that morning, although she hadn’t had much success.
She’d seriously overestimated the strength of the EuroStar’s WiFi signal, and consequently, she had arrived in Paris sans hotel. All the seats in the station seemed to be occupied, so she rolled her suitcase over to the wall and stood, scrolling through nearby hotels on her phone. She covered her mouth and coughed, flinching at the dull ache in her chest. She rubbed at it absently, fighting back a growing sense of panic.
Yesterday’s occasional cough had become more persistent, although she’d been in denial about it as she rode on the EuroStar. Now, she was wishing she’d stayed in London, where she spoke the language, in case she ended up having to go to a clinic or hospital. With her medical history, this cough could easily become pneumonia, if it wasn’t already.
And she didn’t even have a hotel. She swallowed hard as she clicked on a website, desperate to get out of this loud, crowded train station. The hotel was affordable and touted itself as being near tourist destinations. It had a good customer rating, and she didn’t have the time or energy to be picky. It would do. She reserved a room and rolled her suitcase outside to join the line of people waiting for a taxi.
Once she’d made it into a cab, she showed the driver the address of her hotel and settled back in her seat, stifling another cough. The taxi slid through the streets of Paris, and Ruby stared transfixed out the window, taking in the gorgeous architecture, buildings with ornate stone facades and flower boxes in each window. As they rounded a corner, she caught a glimpse of the Eiffel Tower in the distance. Her pulse jumped, pushing back some of the fear and helplessness that had overtaken her. She was in Paris, for crying out loud. There was no way this part of her adventure wasn’t going to be awesome, immunodeficiencies be damned.
The taxi pulled up in front of her hotel, a quaint-looking brick-fronted building, tall and narrow, sandwiched between its neighbors like commercial townhouses. A bright red awning over the front entrance greeted her. Maybe the color was a good omen for her upcoming stay. She thanked the taxi driver, paid, and got out, letting him help her with her suitcase.
Inside, she was relieved to discover that the front desk staff spoke English. The friendly young woman behind the desk gave her a key to a room on the fourth floor and directed Ruby toward the elevator. She rode up and let herself into her room. It was small but pretty, with a double bed in the middle and a window that overlooked the tree-lined street below. A vase of real flowers sat on the desk. She leaned in to smell them, inhaling their rich floral scent before doubling over in a coughing fit.
She sat on the bed, taking slow, shallow breaths until it had eased, wiping away the tears that had formed in the corners of her eyes. She opened her satchel, pulled out a bottle of water, and took a long drink. When she inhaled, mucous rattled in her chest. Dammit.
It had been over a year since she’d had so much as a cold, years since she’d been seriously ill. But, like it or not, she was sick now. She was going to have to see a doctor before this got any worse. Maybe, if she treated it early enough, she could still salvage some of her time in France.
But first, she was going to enjoy lunch in this lovely city. She spent a few minutes settling into her hotel room and then set out. She hadn’t gone two blocks before she stumbled across an adorable-looking café. It even had a table available outside on the patio overlooking the street.
She ordered a salad with a side of fresh bread and leaned back in her chair, satisfied to relax and people-watch for a little while. Her phone dinged with an incoming text message.
How’s the adventure going? Are you still in London? It was from Megan.
Ruby cleared her throat, swallowing past the urge to cough as she texted her back. Just arrived in Paris. She took a picture
of the view from her table and sent it to Megan.
Super jealous! I hope you’re having an amazing time.
I am, except I’m getting sick. She inserted a frowny-faced emoji. I think I’m going to have to find a doctor this afternoon.
Her phone immediately began to ring.
“Are you okay?” Megan asked as soon as Ruby had connected the call. “What’s going on?”
“Just a cough,” Ruby told her. “But I’d like to stay ahead of it if I can.”
“Absolutely,” Megan agreed. “I can hear it in your voice. You sound hoarse. Are you sure you want to stay? Maybe you should catch a flight home tonight.”
“I’ll see what the doctor says, but I’m not going to take any unnecessary risks, I promise.” A part of her wanted nothing more than to book the next flight home, but she didn’t want her trip to end like this, not if she could help it.
“I just wish someone was there with you,” Megan said. “Promise me you’ll think about coming home early?”
“I’ll think about it.” Ruby sipped her water. “But it’s just a cough. It’s probably nothing.”
“Maybe.” But Megan didn’t sound convinced, and Ruby could hardly blame her. She’d nursed Ruby through more illnesses than she cared to admit—including several bouts of pneumonia.
“I’ll keep you posted as soon as I know anything, I promise.”
“Okay. So how are things otherwise? You’re still having fun?”
She looked around. The street the café was on looked like something off a postcard. Here and there, she caught snatches of conversations in French. “I am, or at least I was in London. Paris has gotten off to a rocky start, but hopefully I’ll be able to sneak in some sightseeing despite this cough.”
“Your pictures have been so cool,” Megan said. “We’ve all been following along with your trip on social media.”
“I know.” Ruby smiled as she took another sip of water. “You’ve been liking and commenting on my posts like crazy.”
“Well, we’re excited for you. Have you seen Flynn again?”
“No, but I talked to him last night.” A warm tingle spread through her belly at the memory.
“You did? What did you guys talk about?”
“Nothing I can tell you while I’m sitting in public.” Ruby pressed a hand to her cheek, which was flaming hot.
“Oh my God,” Megan squealed into the phone. “Did you guys have phone sex?”
“Yes,” she admitted with an embarrassed giggle, then covered the phone with one hand as she stifled a cough. “It was really hot.”
“Why didn’t he come to Paris with you?”
“I already told you, he’s working, and besides, this trip is supposed to be all about me.”
“Yeah, but you should hear yourself when you talk about him, Ruby. Your voice gets all dreamy. I mean, really, when’s the last time you were this smitten with anyone?”
She cleared her throat and took another sip of water, pressing a hand against the ache in her chest. “It’s been a while.”
“Elle and Theo made a trans-Atlantic romance work. Maybe you and Flynn should try too.”
“The situations are totally different. And I mean, we only spent one day together.”
“Well, I still think you should come home, but if your cough were to clear up…I’m just saying, he’s in Europe. You’re still in Europe. Maybe try to see him again if you think this thing between you two is worth fighting for.”
Flynn didn’t make it back to his hotel room until past nine that evening. He’d spent most of the day with Aidan, running through all the particulars of his build, noting updates and adjustments that needed to be made to the rough mock-up Flynn had put together yesterday. Now, he had a mountain of work to do, but it could wait until tomorrow. Tonight, he needed to relax for a bit.
He set the carry-out bag that he’d brought home from the pub on the table, his stomach rumbling as the scent of beef and potatoes met his nose. He set out his meal, cracked open a beer, and thumbed through social media on his phone while he ate. Ruby had posted a series of photos of Paris landmarks, taken from what looked like the inside of one of those tourist buses that took people around to all the points of interest. Briefly, he wondered why she’d decided to ride the bus today, but that was secondary to the pang of regret in his chest that she’d left London.
This wasn’t a surprise. He’d known she was only in London for three nights. Hell, he’d been the one to suggest the train to Paris. But it felt real now, in a way it hadn’t before, that he wasn’t going to see her again.
He looked over at his laptop. He’d finished surveying the site and gone over all the particulars for the house with Aidan. Technically, he could complete the design from anywhere. Of course, it would be more professional to stay here in Wales, to be able to show Aidan his progress and get his feedback along the way. But he had a feeling Aidan would be the first person to give a green light to Flynn taking a quick excursion to Paris.
Before he got ahead of himself, he’d just shoot her a text, see what she was doing tonight. He opened his text messaging app, feeling a punch of lust in his gut when he saw their most recent texts, the ones that had led to their ridiculously amazing phone sex. If she’d texted him last night from bed while she was pleasuring herself, surely it didn’t violate the rules of their relationship if he texted her now just to say hello.
Bonsoir, chéri. How’s Paris?
Her reply came almost immediately. Much sunnier than London. She added an emoji of the sun for emphasis.
Most places in the world are sunnier than London. Feel like chatting for a few minutes?
This time, there was a lengthy pause before she started to type, a pause he tried very hard not to overanalyze. It was totally fine if she didn’t want to chat. For the best even, maybe.
Sure, she answered finally.
Not giving himself a chance to second guess the decision, he pressed the little icon next to her name.
“Hi.” Her voice was soft, almost hushed, and the sound of it made his stomach swoop like he’d just gone over the big drop on a rollercoaster.
“I didn’t wake you, did I?”
“Nope. Just relaxing in my hotel room before bed.”
“Same.”
A loaded silence fell over the line as he remembered what they’d done together on the phone last night. He suspected she was remembering the same thing.
“Would you like some company tomorrow?” he asked before he could lose his nerve.
There was another pause as she seemed to consider this.
“Company, as in…?” she asked, still speaking in that hushed voice. Was there someone else in the room with her that she was trying not to disturb? No, that was ridiculous.
“As in, I could fly out to Paris for the day. I’d really like to see you again.”
“I…” She paused and cleared her throat. “I’d like to see you again too, Flynn, but I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”
“Of course,” he said quickly, fighting the sting of disappointment. “No need to complicate things when you’re only in Europe for a few more days.” It had been a ridiculous request, really. His parents had been disappointed time and again when he lost focus in the middle of a project, and here he was doing it to Aidan too. This had felt different, but maybe it was exactly the same.
“Yes.” She sounded relieved. “I mean, I like you…a lot. But I planned this trip as a solo adventure, so I really think I need to do it on my own. And besides, it would only be harder to say goodbye a second time, don’t you think?”
“I’m sure you’re right.”
“Sorry.”
“No need to be,” he told her.
“I’ll always cherish our day in London,” she whispered.
“So will I.”
“Goodbye, Flynn.”
“Bye.” He set the phone down on his desk and looked at his mostly cold dinner. Last night, they’d said goodnight. Tonight, they’d said goodbye.
<
br /> 9
Ruby set the phone on her nightstand and rolled over in bed, coughing. She wanted to call Flynn back, throw caution to the wind and invite him to Paris to spend another magical day together. She probably would have done it too, if she weren’t sick. She’d gone to a clinic that afternoon and gotten medicine for her cough. The doctor had listened to her lungs and told her to come back tomorrow if things had gotten any worse.
And they definitely hadn’t gotten any better. So, she’d probably wind up back at the clinic tomorrow, would probably leave with a pneumonia diagnosis and antibiotics, hopefully could avoid IVs and a hospital stay. Either way, a romantic day with Flynn wasn’t in the cards. And besides, she meant what she’d told him. If they spent any more time together, it would only make it harder the next time they had to say goodbye.
She’d quit being resentful of her faulty immune system years ago. This was just how her body worked. But damn, the timing really sucked this time. Of course, her whirlwind trip had probably caused her to get sick in the first place. At least she’d gotten in a sightseeing tour of Paris this afternoon, in case she spent the rest of her vacation in bed.
Her phone dinged with a text message.
Feeling any better? It was from Megan.
No worse, anyway.
Megan sent a sad-faced emoji. Come home tomorrow, please? I’m so worried about you being over there all by yourself.
Let’s see how I feel in the morning first, but I’m thinking about it.
It felt like a failure to end her trip early, to crawl home weak and sick. But, if it came to that, she’d do it. She wasn’t about to fool around with her health and wind up in the hospital.
Okay, sweetie. Call me tomorrow.
I will. Promise. xx
She put her phone down and measured out another dose of the cough syrup the doctor at the clinic had given her. It burned down her esophagus, making her grimace. It was ironic, given her condition, that she’d always been terrible at taking medicine.