Season Four: French Kissing, Book 4

by Harper Bliss

  “I think my issue is mostly that I feel like I can’t make those kinds of demands on your time. That it’s not my place to do so.”

  “I need you to ask me. If you don’t, I get so easily sidetracked with everything that’s going on all the time.”

  “How about a weekly PR strategy meeting about your next campaign, right in this very bed,” Steph said. “A recurring two-hour block in your calendar.”

  “I do like the sound of that.”

  “You only have the right to cancel three times per year. If you cancel more, they have to be postponed to another time the same week.”

  Dominique nodded. “It sounds as if you’ve been thinking about this.”

  “It’s all I’ve been thinking about.”

  “Any other ideas?” Dominique placed her hand on Steph’s hip. “Before negotiations take an inevitable turn.”

  “You come to bed no later than 11 p.m. four nights a week.”

  “Does that include the evenings the children are here?”

  Steph considered this. She needed to remain realistic. “Yes.”

  Dominique slipped her hand from under the duvet and held it out to Steph. “Let’s shake on it.”

  Steph shook Dominique’s hand and didn’t let go. She brought it to her lips and kissed a knuckle, then another.

  “Staying at Juliette and Nadia’s is nice, but I’m glad to be back in my more palatial surroundings. It suits me better.”

  Dominique chuckled. “I knew you came back for the palace more than for me, but it’s fine. As long as I have you naked in this bed every night.”

  “Now that we’ve sorted this out, what do you propose we do with the rest of the morning.”

  “I want to go back to the hospital later,” Dominique said. “But before that, I think it’s time we start our weekly PR meetings.”

  “What does PR stand for in this instance?” Steph asked.

  “Personal Relations rather than public ones.” Dominique manoeuvred herself on top of Steph.

  “Really?” Steph said. “After all of this, you’re not even going to let me top you?”

  Dominique smiled down at her. “Debate about it all you want, babe. It will make you all the wetter.”

  Steph chuckled and shook her head. “Just kiss me already.”

  “I’ll do so much more than that, my darling.” Dominique kissed her and let her tongue delve deep into Steph’s mouth from the get-go. Steph let her hands meander over Dominique’s back and revelled in the touch of Dominique’s skin, her lips on hers.

  “I want you,” Dominique said.

  Steph nodded.

  “I mean, I really want you,” Dominique repeated.

  “I know very well what you mean.” Steph pulled Dominique close and kissed her fiercely. Then she let go of her and Dominique slipped off the bed. She opened the bottom drawer of her night stand and dug up a tool they hadn’t used in a while.

  Steph watched as Dominique slipped into the special pair of briefs and fitted the dildo. She did it so swiftly that, in a matter of seconds, she climbed back in bed with her, fully strapped on.

  “Where were we?” Dominique asked.

  The toy rested against Steph’s inner thigh and the mere sensation of it against her skin made her clit pulse. She couldn’t wait to feel it inside her, nor could she wait to see the look in Dominique’s eyes when she slid it in. Combined, the two events never failed to arouse a fire so great in Steph’s belly, it always made her breath catch in her throat, made her so hot, she instantly forgot she’d ever had a debate about who was going to top whom.

  Dominique’s hands roamed over Steph’s skin, halted at her breasts, and cupped them reverently in the palms of her hands. God, Steph had missed Dominique’s ways. She always started things out so gently—and always ended exactly the opposite.

  Dominique kissed her breasts, one after the other. A quick nibble with her teeth alerted Steph to the fact that things were about to heat up. They couldn’t do so quickly enough.

  Dominique kissed her belly, let her lips wander around Steph’s pubic hair, then kissed her straight on the clit. Oh yes, things were surely heating up.

  Steph spread her legs a little wider. She wanted to let Dominique know she was ready. Every word Dominique had spoken earlier had aroused her, made her wet, because, in the right circumstances, Dominique’s speeches had that effect on her. God, she wanted her. Really wanted her.

  While licking her clit, Dominique slipped a finger inside of her. What she encountered apparently surprised her so much, that she lifted her head from between Steph’s legs and cocked an eyebrow at her.

  Steph took the opportunity to say the two words she knew Dominique wanted to hear more than anything. “Fuck me.”

  Dominique held her gaze for a second longer, then let her finger slide out, and, slowly, slipped the dildo inside of Steph.

  She planted her hands on either side of Steph’s head and looked deep into her eyes. While she gently started fucking Steph, she said, “Welcome home, babe.”

  Zoya

  Zoya stared at the Barbier & Cyr sign outside the building. She took a deep breath. Stepping inside might change her life. Zoya wasn’t only looking for a new job and a new career, she was looking for another part of the glue that would keep her in Paris. Not that she ever felt Camille alone wasn’t enough to keep her there, but, as the saying went, one can’t live on love alone. Zoya needed outside intellectual stimulation and friends with whom she could not only feel a connection, but also have interesting conversations. Friends like Steph, who opened doors for her. Like the door opening to her now.

  A young man came to greet her in the lobby and escorted her up to the Barbier & Cyr headquarters. Camille hadn’t given her much of a pep talk this morning. She’d just said “Be yourself and everything will work out.” While Zoya appreciated the sentiment behind these words, they weren’t very helpful.

  The man started speaking to her in French and Zoya tried her very best to understand what he was saying, but she had to ask him if he spoke English before the elevator reached the right floor. Definitely something to work on.

  “Zoya.” Steph greeted her with wide-open arms outside the elevator. “Thanks, Fred,” she said to the man.

  Zoya stepped into Steph’s hug. She could do with a pair of friendly arms around her. Steph’s eyes sparkled and there was a grin plastered to her face. Surely, she wasn’t that happy to have Zoya interview at Barbier & Cyr.

  “What’s up with you?” Zoya asked as they walked along the corridor. “Won the lottery or something?”

  “The lottery?” Steph stopped walking and faced Zoya. “Dominique and I are back together, so I guess I have won the lottery of romance.”

  Zoya chuckled at Steph’s emotions on display like that. And her cheesiness. “I’m so happy for you.”

  “Lisa’s hand is going to make a full recovery.”

  “All good news.” They started walking again.

  “And soon, you and I will be colleagues, so it just doesn’t stop, does it?”

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, shall we?”

  Steph shook her head. “As far as I’m concerned, this is a done deal. All that’s left to happen is a discussion about your tasks and a negotiation about your salary. I’m serious.”

  A tingle took root in Zoya’s stomach. “And how many French lessons I need to take,” she joked.

  “Don’t worry about your French. If you stay in Paris long enough, you’ll pick it up as you go along. Some grammar lessons might be needed, but I can assure you that, if you hang around here all day, you’ll pick up the curse words first.” She opened the door to an office. “Both Claire and Juliette curse like sailors. You’ll see.”

  “What was that?” Claire said, as she rose to greet Zoya. “The pot calling the kettle black again?”

  Claire held Zoya’s shoulders in a tight clasp as she kissed her on both cheeks. “That was quite a dinner party, Zoya. We must return the favour soon.”


  “Why don’t you get through your wedding first,” Juliette said, then treated Zoya to the same greeting.

  “It was so lovely to have you as our guests. It really was.” Zoya couldn’t explain it, but she already felt at home. She connected to these women in a way she hadn’t dared dream of when she’d first moved to Paris. She briefly allowed herself the fantasy of coming to work here every day.

  “Have you heard from Aurore?” Claire asked, ignoring Juliette’s comment. “Is there something going on between her and Solange?”

  “What?” Steph said. “Not in a million years would that ice queen be interested in someone with—her words, not mine—‘such loose morals as Aurore’. Let alone in another woman.”

  “Nadia was convinced something was going on between them as well,” Juliette said.

  “Absolutely no way,” Steph said. “I will bring you both three espressos a day for a month if something ever happens between Aurore and Solange. I am that certain of the improbability.”

  “Ooh, the stakes are raised,” Claire said. “Zoya, you are witness to this rash statement from our colleague. Let’s shake on it.”

  “Nadia’s not often wrong about these things.” Juliette held out her hand to shake on it as well.

  Zoya stood there looking on in bewilderment.

  Claire must have noticed the look on her face. “Lest you think this is all we do here, let’s sit down and talk about you, Zoya.”

  They all moved swiftly to a table by the window, except for Steph, who ambled towards them, seemingly lost in thought.

  “What is it?” Claire asked.

  “Juliette is right. Nadia’s not often wrong about these things. I just wonder what she saw that I missed. I should give her a call later.” She sat down. “Aurore and Solange have somehow come to an agreement to have Dominique go head-to-head with Rivière about the bill on Aurore’s show. All of this after Solange had banned Aurore from ever setting foot in the Elysée again. Maybe I’ve had my head too far up my backside to notice and this whole business with Dominique made me lose my observational mojo.” She tapped a finger against her chin. “They might be a bit more chummy, but there’s just no way they would ever get together. It must be the budding friendship between them that Nadia picked up on.” She straightened her back. “I’ll stop by Solange’s office tonight and will get to the bottom of this. Now that I no longer have my own love life to worry about.”

  Juliette rolled her eyes. “She’s been way too chirpy all day.”

  “I do prefer chirpy Steph over mopey Steph,” Claire added.

  Zoya couldn’t help but chuckle.

  “This is what you have to look forward to when you work here,” Steph said. “TMI water cooler moments all day long.”

  “It makes me wonder what you’ve been saying about me around the water cooler.” Zoya put on a wide smile.

  “Only good things. I promise,” Juliette said. “So, let’s make this happen.”

  An hour later, Zoya had been offered a job, a generous pay package, and the prospect of two new bosses to get friendly with, along with a deepening of her bond with Steph.

  “Think about it,” Claire said.

  “But let us know as soon as possible.” Juliette sent her a warm smile.

  “I don’t have to think about it.” Zoya sat up a little straighter. “You’ve just made me an offer I can’t refuse. I liked Barbier & Cyr from the very first moment I set foot in it. I would be honoured to work here. Truly, it would be a dream come true.”

  “Just so you know,” Steph said, “despite many attempts, we do a horrible job of keeping our personal and work lives separate. These two are always up in my business.”

  “Says the woman who seduced our most high-profile client ever,” Claire said, her face blank, but her eyes glinting.

  “Excuse me. She seduced me,” Steph said. “A well-established fact by now.”

  Juliette shook her head. “Here we go again.” She glanced at Zoya. “I’m sure Steph will give you a detailed run-down of who has slept with whom. Since she has discovered monogamy, she can’t get enough of chatting about that kind of stuff.”

  “I look forward to hearing all about it.” Zoya couldn’t wait to relay all of this to Camille. This place of work must be the opposite of what Camille had to deal with every day. “Since I’m a freelancer, my notice period won’t be very long. I have a couple of remaining assignments to get done. But I should be able to start very soon.”

  “Music to our ears,” Claire said. “We’ve just acquired the floor above, so we’ll have a very nice office waiting for you.”

  Steph quirked up her eyebrows. “They’re really bringing you in through the big, fancy gate. I had to sleep with the president before I got a decent office.” She shrugged. “No hard feelings, of course.”

  “I really can’t thank you enough,” Zoya said. “I can’t believe how fast things have progressed from me coming here for the first time and having this silly dream of working here, to having a contract. Life can be really funny that way.”

  “It’s not all going to be this much fun,” Steph said. “Maybe you can become the liaison with Dominique’s chief of staff when we start preparing for the next election. So I don’t have to deal with Solange anymore.”

  “Aren’t you supposed to become best buds?” Zoya asked, in the spirit of the banter she had witnessed. “I wouldn’t want to stand in the way of that.”

  “Hear, hear,” Claire said. “I’m sorry, but I have to dash.”

  “Another wedding dress fitting?” Juliette asked.

  Claire nodded. “The wedding’s in two weeks.”

  “What’s Margot wearing for the occasion? Is her dress made of black leather? Will she ride in on her motorcycle?” Steph asked.

  “You’ll just have to wait and see.” Claire walked over to Zoya and held out her hand. “Good to have you on board. We’re going to do a lot of great work together and have a bunch of fun while we’re at it.”

  Aurore

  Aurore rang Solange’s bell, wondering which Solange she was going to greet in a few seconds. Relaxed or uptight Solange. As soon as the door opened, her question was answered. Solange looked as if a storm cloud was hanging over her head.

  Aurore greeted her with a slightly prolonged peck on the cheek nonetheless. “Dare I ask what’s wrong?” she said, her tone light. “Is Dominique still coming on the show tomorrow?” This was the official reason for Aurore’s visit to Solange’s home. They would go over the questions together so Solange could okay them. An activity that could have taken place at Solange’s office at the Elysée, yet the chief of staff had invited Aurore to her home again.

  “It’s not that. It’s Stéphanie.”

  “That old chestnut,” Aurore joked.

  “Have you said something to her about our conversation?” Solange stood with her hands on her sides. There was obvious reproach in her tone.

  “Of course not. Apart from a text to ask how Lisa was doing, I haven’t even spoken to her.”

  “Then how do you explain her coming to my office earlier today, a huge grin on her face, asking whether I had warmed up to you?”

  “Beats me. Besides, it’s an innocent enough question. Steph knows all about how we were at each other’s throats not long ago, and now we’ve set up this radio debate. Maybe she was just curious.”

  “You weren’t there. She had this look about her.”

  “What kind of look would that be?” Aurore felt a secret pang of glee at seeing Solange stressing out about something as silly as Steph winding her up.

  “As if she knew something. Not that there’s anything to know.”

  Last Sunday, after changing the topic, they’d had dinner and Solange, employing all the tricks she had picked up over the course of two decades in politics, had ducked all of Aurore’s more probing questions. They’d had a nice enough evening, but the air of intimacy had evaporated as they had sat down to dinner, as though Solange had suddenly realised she had
given away too much.

  “She’s probably just yanking your chain. You know what Steph’s like.”

  “She’s not supposed to be yanking my chain anymore, but now that she and Dominique are back together she has that smug air about her again.”

  Aurore couldn’t shake the impression that Solange’s mini-meltdown about Steph didn’t have much to do with Steph at all.

  “You have to let it go, Solange. They’re back together. The president is happy again. That’s what matters. She’ll be in good spirits for the interview tomorrow. Anne Rivière has agreed. Everything is working out. This was going to be a triple win, remember?”

  “For everyone but me, it seems.” Solange finally led the way inside her living room.

  Aurore put an arm on her shoulder. Solange all but flinched at her touch. “What’s really going on?”

  Solange took a step away from her, and sighed. “Yesterday morning, I knocked, the way I always do before I enter Dominique’s office. She said to enter, which I did, only to find her with her tongue buried in Stéphanie’s mouth. Of course, I’m happy they’re back together, but is a little discretion really that much to ask for? They’re in the Elysée, for heaven’s sake.”

  Aurore was getting an inkling of what was going on—of what Solange was so desperate to communicate, but would rather die than say out loud—but she wasn’t sure yet how to deal with it. For now, she would let Solange rant, then try to put a stop to it so they could get some work done.

  “They’re newly reunited. It’ll pass,” she said. “How about a glass of wine?”

  Solange shook her head. “No, I’ve had way too much wine lately.”

  “Could I possible have a glass of something?”

  Solange rubbed her palms on her stiff black trousers. “Saint-Emilion?”

  “If you’re offering.” Aurore tried a smile, but Solange didn’t reciprocate.

  The chief of staff was nervous. Aurore gathered it wasn’t about the interview. She believed it had nothing to do with work, or Dominique, or even Steph at all.