His Muse

by Twyla Turner

  The song ends and the six of them come back to the table laughing, the ladies gasping for air.

  “We need another round,” Roz shouts out.

  “I’ve been looking for our waitress, but she’s nowhere to be seen,” I say looking around the crowded club.

  “We can go get them,” Etienne offers.

  “Would you?” I look up at him.

  “Of course. Anything for you, ma chérie.”

  I flush with delight as they walk away to get our drinks.

  “My God! I’m having a great time!” Tiffani says as she taps her feet against the floor like she can’t contain her joy.

  “Yes! Vive la France!” Roz shouts.

  “Vive la France!” We all yell back.

  “Well, hello ladies. How are you doing this evening?” An unfamiliar voice with an unmistakable American accent says above us.

  I raise my eyes to a handsome white guy with an arrogant smirk on his face. Behind him are a few others. All with equally cocky looks on their faces.

  “We’re doing great. Thank you.” I say and turn back to my group, dismissing them.

  “Oh, you’re American?”

  “Yep.” My voice is purposely short, hinting that we’re not interested.

  “Well, you’re awfully far from home.”

  “As are you,” Yvonne interjects. Her tone is just as cold.

  “We saw you on the dance floor with those pretty boys. Do you offer the same services to Americans?”

  “Excuse me?” Roz and I say at the same time.

  “Services? Are you implying that we’re fucking prostitutes?” Yvonne asks.

  “I mean, come on. Can you really afford a vacation to the South of France?” His friend scoffs.

  “Oh, no this motherfucker didn’t?!” Roz looks at all of us, seeing if we all heard the same thing.

  “I think he did.” Tiffani finally finds her voice. “They must be drunk.”

  “Not that we need to explain ourselves to you, but I live here, and I run a tour service, and these women are respected professionals and can afford this trip and any other trips you entitled assholes can afford.”

  “Then if you’re giving it away for free, why not hook up with real men, instead of some pussy Frenchies?”

  “Who the fuck are you? And what are you doing talking to my woman and her friends with such lack of respect?” Etienne steps in, taking a protective stance in front of me.

  Lucien and Jean Michel stand next to him, blocking the other men’s view of us.

  I quickly stand and place a hand on Etienne’s arm. “Babe, it’s okay. I think they were just leaving anyway.” I give the intruders a pointed look, trying to de-escalate the situation.

  “Hey man, we were just admiring your fine pieces of ass. There’s enough to go around. Or are you afraid that we’ll show them what it’s like to be with a real man?” The ringleader smirks.

  “I will fucking break your-”

  “Etienne, stop! Let’s just go.” I say as I grab his arm.

  The girls stand, ready to leave. The last thing I need is a fight to break out. We’ve been having such a great time, I don’t want anything to ruin my first tour.

  Etienne stares down the guy, nose to nose.

  “Come on,” I say as I pull on his arm. “They’re not worth it.”

  We turn to walk away.

  “Try this dick, and you’ll know what it’s worth.” The prick says as he smacks my ass.

  It all happens within the space of a few seconds. Etienne pulls his arm out of my hands, whirls around, and lets his fist fly towards the guy’s jaw.

  All hell breaks loose. Etienne and the man fall to the floor with a flurry of fists flying. The guy’s friends jump in, and Lucien and Jean Michel step in to defend Etienne. The girls are stunned, standing with their mouths agape.

  “Etienne, stop!” I shout.

  There’s no way that I can get in to break up the fight without catching a fist myself. Luckily, two bouncers run up and pull the men apart. Etienne’s cheek is already red and starting to swell. Although, the other guy is looking the worse for wear with one eye quickly swelling shut. Lucien and Jean Michel only have a few scratches and bruises compared to the other two men who have a bloody nose and split lip, respectively. For the Frenchmen to be ‘pussies,’ as the three American men called them, they sure could fight better than them. Though I’m too furious to dwell on it much.

  The bouncers shout at the men in French and Etienne argues back. Lucien and Jean Michel join in. From the words I can snatch here and there, they’re getting kicked out, and Etienne and the other two are blaming the Americans. In the end, we all get kicked out. The American guys included.

  We remain silent as we’re all herded out the door. The three men who started it all, quickly walk away as Etienne glares at them. Unwilling to get handed another ass whooping.

  “Oh my God! What a crazy night!” Roz shouts.

  “Are you okay?” Tiffani asks sweetly as she reaches up to stroke Jean Michel’s bruised cheek.

  “Oui. I am fine.” Jean Michel pulls her into his arms and kisses her.

  “All this excitement has me horny as hell. Wanna come back to my hotel room?” Roz boldly asks Lucien.

  “Absolutely.”

  Everyone chuckles except me.

  “I’m so sorry, Yvonne,” I say as I turn to her.

  “It’s not your fault. Those assholes had it coming.”

  “I know. But still.” I shake my head. “Anyway, I can take you back to the hotel.”

  “We’ve got this.” Roz waves off my offer. “The hotel is just down the street. And the guys can help if we get lost.”

  “Alright. Well, you’ve got my number if you need anything. Otherwise, I’ll be at the hotel at 7 am to pick you up to head to Cannes.”

  “Okay, see ya tomorrow,” Yvonne says as they turn to head towards the hotel.

  “Bye, ladies. And try to get some sleep.”

  “No promises.” Roz waves with a sly look on her face.

  “It was nice meeting you all,” Etienne calls out as they walk away.

  “Nice meeting you too, Etienne!” They all wave.

  “I will get the taxi,” Etienne says.

  I just nod in answer. I don’t want to speak right now. I’ve never been a fan of arguing in public. I hate it when couples have it out in front of people. And right now, I want nothing more than to tear into him. The night went from me feeling great about how supportive he was, to wanting to strangle him for fighting in front of my clients. This tour going well is vital to my business.

  A cab pulls up, and Etienne holds the door open for me to get inside. He slides in next to me and gives the driver my address. We ride in silence. He reaches for my hand, but I move it away and cross my arms over my middle. The tension in the car is thick. I feel Etienne’s occasional glances in my direction. But I continue to stare straight ahead.

  The taxi pulls up outside of my building. Etienne slides out of the car, and holds his hand out to me. Always the gentleman, even when I’m mad at him. I ignore it, and he awkwardly shoves his hands into his pockets. I’m tempted to tell him to go back to his place. But this argument needs to be had, and I do want to make sure that he’s okay. I’m sure he could use some ice on his face and knuckles. I’m mad, not a bitch.

  I head straight to the kitchen when we get into my flat. Etienne locks the door as I get some ice like he’d done for me last week. I wrap the baggie of ice in a towel. The heat of him penetrates my back before I feel his kiss on my neck.

  “Don’t.” I shrug away from him.

  I turn and look at him. He tucks his hair behind his ear, exposing the bruise on his cheek. His battered knuckles add to the paint stains on his hand. I look away from him. I want to be mad at him, but it’s hard to be when he looks so incredibly beautiful and contrite.

  “Sit,” I order him as I point to a kitchen chair.

  “Why are you so mad?” He says as he lowers himself into
a chair.

  I walk forward and stand between his legs as I place the ice pack on his cheek. He reaches up and covers my hand with his. I pull my hand away and take a few steps back, letting him hold the ice to his face on his own.

  “What did I do wrong, Taryn?”

  “You got into a fight, Etienne. And in front of my clients! I am so embarrassed.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Those assholes were insulting you and your clients! Now, I am supposed to be ashamed for defending you?!”

  “No. Defending us was fine. But you could’ve just walked away. Be the bigger man. Don’t act like a child.”

  “Do not bring age into this, Ryn. He smacked your ass!” He throws the ice pack on the table and stands. “I refuse to let some asshole disrespect you or put his hands on you. Tu es à moi.” You are mine.

  “Since when did I become your property,” I scoff.

  “I did not say that. You are mine to protect. You are mine to keep safe. As long as we are together, and maybe even after, it is my job to make sure you are unharmed. That you feel secure in my arms.”

  “But you know how important this week is for me. And it’s not just the fight, but the painting class too. You didn’t ask if it was okay to bring some naked man in for us to paint. I have to be extra careful with how I run this travel company. Word of mouth is going to be my bread and butter. It’s my name on the line. Not yours.”

  “I only decided to have Jean Michel sit for you after you told me about your group last night. They seemed like the type of women who would be open enough to enjoy the experience. You are making too much of this. They had a good time for God’s sake!”

  “Making too much of this?! Etienne, my point is that you have to tell me when you want to do something like that. Don’t just spring that shit on me! Twice today, you risked my reputation.”

  “Do you not even understand why I did any of it?”

  “What are you talking about?” I scowl at him.

  “Why did I want to make the painting class a unique experience? Why did I get into a fight?”

  “I don’t know! Because you want to be the center of attention? Because you want to be the hero?”

  “No, Taryn! Because I fucking love you!”

  My ears ring after he drops that bomb in the middle of my kitchen. I stare at him stunned. He’s called me mon amour before, but I always considered that a term of endearment the French use freely like ‘my darling’ and ‘my dear.’ I had no idea that his feelings ran that deep. Or I tried not to think about it.

  “I have fallen in love with you. I have loved you from the moment I saw you staring at my painting. And I have fallen in love with you more with everything I discover about you. From your shyness when you told me what you liked about my painting, to your resistance in going out with me, to how you were willing to selflessly let your daughter have me, to watching you orgasm and watching you drool on my pillow the next morning. The way your curls frame your face and wrap around my fingers when I bury them in your hair. The way you look at me. How determined you are to run a successful business. Your bravery to move to another country to start a new life. And the way you make me feel.” He places his hand over his heart.

  He pauses and walks towards me. His hands are shaky and damp as he clutches mine. He presses them against his chest so I can feel his heart pounding. It’s racing as if he’s been running. He’s scared. Scared of cracking open his chest, exposing his heart. Unsure if I will take it tenderly or crush it.

  “You make me feel like a superhero. Or at least you make me want to be. Like I could conquer anything, just by the way you look at me. But I am human. I will fuck up. I will make mistakes. But with everything I do. With every attempt, successful or a complete failure, it is for you. To make you happy.”

  My throat works thickly as I try to swallow around the knot lodged there. My hands splay on his chest. They slide up his neck, my fingers tangling in his hair. I pull him down to me. Etienne’s hands clasp my face roughly, and he attacks my mouth. He backs me up against the wall. His body grinds against mine as his tongue tastes me. His hands desperately search under my dress to find my panties. He tugs down on them frantically. I reach for his jeans and fumble with the button and zipper. One side of my underwear tears under the force of his hands. The lacy fabric falls limply around my ankle. I get his jeans and boxers down just enough to release his erection.

  Etienne grasps one of my legs and lifts it up, slamming into me with one hard thrust. I release his lips with a gasp. He kisses up my jaw to my ear.

  “Don’t push me away, Taryn.” He whispers in my ear. His thrusts sliding me up and down the wall. “I could not bear it.”

  “I won’t,” I whimper. My hands clutch Etienne’s face, pulling him back. Forcing him to look at me. “I’m falling in love with you.”

  I don’t know why I still hold back. Why I can’t say that I already love him wholeheartedly. All I know is, it’s as much as I can give at the moment. It’s enough for him. For now.

  He hikes my leg higher as his other hand clutches my jaw, holding me imprisoned. His jade eyes hold mine. I’ve never looked a lover in the eye during sex. It’s so incredibly intimate as he strokes into me. As if my soul is completely naked and bared to him. I glance away shyly.

  “No, stay with me. Your eyes tell me more than your words.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  “I would never hurt you.”

  “You don’t know tha…aaaah!” I cry as he hits my sweet spot.

  “I do.”

  He pulls out of my throbbing pussy.

  “No!” I sob, coming so close to my climax.

  He drops to his knees, and his head disappears under my dress. His tongue touches my clit, and I nearly fall when my knees buckle. He holds onto my legs to steady me. His tongue and lips lick, suck, and lap at my sex. It only takes a few moments to fall apart.

  “Etienne, yes! I’m coming. I’m coming!”

  He quickly stands, spins me around, and bends me over my kitchen table. He glides easily into my still quivering and dripping flesh from behind. His hands grip my hips tightly as he pounds into me, turning one orgasm into another. My legs shake uncontrollably. Stars burst behind my eyelids, and I scream my release. I feel his cock jerk and pulse before he bursts inside of me.

  “F…Fuck! Taryn!” He shouts as he slows to gentle shallow strokes. Letting my pussy milk him to the last drop.

  His knees give out as I slide weakly from the table. We fall to the floor in a heap of panting, quivering flesh. Etienne’s body cushions my fall.

  “Are you still mad?” Etienne asks after catching his breath.

  “No.” His hand strokes my curls, and I raise my head to look at him. “And I owe you an apology. I know you were just trying to help me and make the girls’ experience here even better. I’m just on edge, praying everything goes smoothly.”

  “I know. And you are doing great. They all looked so happy. But I will ask you first next time.” His voice rumbles in his chest, vibrating against my ear.

  “Thank you.” I glance up at him. “So…where did you learn to fight like that?”

  A sly smile spreads across his face.

  “Some friends and I joined a boxing club when we were young. I was one of the best.”

  “Of course, you were.” I grin and shake my head tiredly.

  “Come. Let us get cleaned up and go to bed. You have an early day tomorrow.”

  I groan as he helps me up. I smile dreamily as he washes away our lovemaking with a washcloth in the bathroom. He sets my alarm for me. Then we fall into bed, and he pulls me back against him, spooning me. The stress of the day pulls at my eyelids, and it’s not long before I’m drifting off to sleep.

  “Je t'aime plus que tu le sais.” I love you more than you know.

  They’re the last words I hear before I fall asleep with a small smile touching my lips.

  Chapter 16
>
  “So, I hope the drama last night didn’t put you all off on traveling overseas and France,” I say to the ladies as we settle into our seats on the train to Cannes.

  Yvonne is next to me, Roz and Charlene sit across from us, and Tiffani and Deena are across the aisle.

  “Girl, are you kidding me?” Roz looks at me like I’m crazy. “That’s the most excitement we’ve had in a long time. And afterwards… Well, I won’t go into detail. But let’s just say, Monsieur Lucien knows how to put it down!”

  We all laugh and grin at her.

  “And besides, it’s not your fault or any of the French people we’ve met.” Yvonne pats my arm.

  “Yeah, the drama would get started by some American pricks.” Roz rolls her eyes.

  “But oh my God! Wasn’t it so hot to see your man defend you like that?!” Tiffani leans across the aisle to add. “I know I was impressed with Jean Michel.”

  “You were impressed with Jean Michel for more than just that,” Charlene teases.

  “True. True.” Tiffani nods with a dreamy smile.

  “But in all seriousness. Girl, you’ve got yourself a wonderful man.” Yvonne says to me.

  “Yes!” Charlene agrees. “And if you don’t mind me asking, how old is he?”

  “Um…twenty-nine.”

  “Really?!” Deena asks. You’re in your forties like us, right?”

  “Yep.” I fidget awkwardly.

  I’m waiting for them to start in on me for dating someone so young. Not that Lucien and Jean Michel aren’t just as young.

  They all surprise me by holding up their hands for high-fives.

  “If the men can do it, so can we,” Roz says.

  “Hell, yeah!” Tiffani concurs.

  “You’re out here living your best life. You’re my hero.” Tiffani sighs.

  “If my husband and I can’t get our shit together, I’ll be following in your footsteps,” Yvonne confesses.

  “Speaking of.” Tiffani leans in again from across the aisle. “Jean Michel was begging me to stay last night. We really had a great connection, you know?”

  “Oh, believe me, I know,” I say to her.