Lucien looks at me, a cloud of anxiety has drifted across his eyes, making his expression gloomy. “You want to go back to New York?”
I shrug my shoulders as we move past a patch of colorful tulips. “If I can’t dance, there’s nothing here in Paris for me.”
And I regret the words the instant they’re out of my mouth. I see hurt flash across Lucien’s features. He offers me a shallow smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. He’s silent for along. “We should head back. Allons-y,” he says in a disconsolate tone.
I pull out of our embrace and he clasps his hand around mine. We walk unhurriedly through the cobblestone street, past the cafés and the artisanal shops. We finally arrive at the métro, still holding hands. We pay our fare and move effortlessly through the turnstiles.
As the train barrels down the track towards us, Lucien wheels around to look at me. He bends towards me, cupping my face in his big, warm hands. “Come back…For me, Julia.”
I look up at him. “What?”
“Once you have the surgery. Come back to Paris. For me.”
His phone rings just then. He doesn’t even glance at it. He just stares at me, his eyes pinning me expectantly. The train grinds to a halt and the doors crawl open. Commuters bustle by us, jostling my messenger bag slightly and stepping on my canvas sneakers as they go. We stand there facing each other, eyes locked on one another.
“That’s crazy,” I say quietly. “I can’t stay here.”
“You say you have no reason to stay in Paris if you can’t dance,” he says quickly. “But you have me. I need you. I want you, Julia. Come back for me.”
I should tell him that that’s too much to ask. I should say that we’re moving too fast and warn him to slow down. But somewhere inside of me, Lucien’s suggestion echoes in my blood, hums through my veins and whispers to me that what he said is the best damn idea I’ve heard in a while.
But instead of saying that out loud, my head snaps in the direction of the train doors as the slide shut. “We missed our train,” I say quietly. “Now, we have to wait for the next one.”
I leave him standing there on the platform and walk over to a nearby bench, taking a seat.
Chapter 22
Julia
I curl up on a corner of the couch, my sketchpad pulled into my lap. I sketch from memory a skirt that I’d seen a woman wearing on the métro today. It was long and flowy in vibrant shades of pink. I add a few details to it, making the design my own.
That would look great on Mackenzie, I think to myself as I hold the sketchpad up to admire my work.
“That’s gorgeous.”
I startle and the pad slips from my hands.
I glance up to where Lucien is standing over my shoulder. “Hi…”
“Hi…” he says rounding the couch and taking a seat at the other end. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”
I offer him a weak smile. “It’s okay.” Things have been awkward between us since our trainride back here this evening. I told him that I should go back to New York for the surgery. He told me that he wants me to come back and be with him.
And that sounds absolutely fucking crazy…
Except that, I want that, too.
I’m just as crazy as he is.
“I love your drawings. You’re so talented, Julia,” he says as he slides onto the far end of the couch.
I smile a small smile. “It’s a hobby I’ve had since I was a kid – drawing clothes. I sort of forgot about it for a while. I’ve been so busy with dancing and everything. But now that I’m injured, I’ve been drawing more. It’s helping keep me sane.”
He nods knowingly. “For me, it’s cooking. Cooking keeps me sane.”
He peers over at the page on my lap as I continue to draw.
“I was thinking,” he says finally, “you should go back. To your apartment.”
My heart sinks when I hear him say the words. But what was I expecting? He asked me to return to Paris after my surgery and I didn’t give him an answer. So, now he’s breaking up with me. I guess I can’t blame him.
Then, he continues. “You’re going to need more of your clothes. Maybe some things with long sleeves. For our trip to Théoule-sur-mer.”
I look at him, feeling confused. “Our trip to Théoule-sur-mer?”
His eyebrows furrow at me. “Yes. I told you I’d take you there with me.”
A smile curls my lips. “You were serious?”
His frown deepens. “Yes. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Because we only just met.”
“Julia – sometimes your soul just recognizes another’s. Sometimes, you just know and it’s not a matter of how long you’ve known the person or how many days the calendar tells you that you’ve spent together…Sometimes, you just know.”
My heart trips all over itself.
“So, we will go to your flat tomorrow. Get you some clothes. We will leave in two days.”
“I have an appointment with Cynthia tomorrow,” I say.
“Perfect. After your appointment, we’ll go get your clothes. And the day after, we will go visit my family.”
Then, he seems to remember something he forgot. “Shit – tomorrow night my team has an important soccer practice. Some of the officials from the Olympic team are coming to watch us play.”
I feel myself beam. “I want to go with you.”
He gives me a surprised look. “You do?”
“Yes. I want to go to football practice with you.”
Chapter 23
Julia
Geneviève stands in the hallway like a deer in the headlights as I step inside the apartment, Lucien trailing just behind me.
“Lucien Beauvier?” she says breathlessly as we walk towards her.
“Geneviève, je présume? Enchanté,” he says stepping towards her with an outstretched hand and a huge grin.
I swear my roommate looks like she’s about to swoon. “Enchanté,” she says mesmerized as she shakes his hand.
“I just came by to pick up some clothes,” I say, breaking her trance.
“Yes, yes,” she says dismissively without even glancing my way. She chats with Lucien in a quick, excited French as I head off to my room to fill up my messenger bag with clothes. When I return a few moments later, the two are laughing and talking like old friends. Geneviève is complimenting him on his performance in what appears to have been an epic game between France and Germany a year ago.
“Geneviève, I’ll be in Théo-mer –“
“Théoule-sur-mer,” Lucien corrects me again with a small smile.
“–In Théoule-sur-mer for a few days,” I tell my roommate.
Her eyebrows jerk in surprise. “Oh?”
“I’m taking her to show her off to my family,” Lucien says proudly as he curls a tattooed bicep around my shoulder. “Do not worry. I will take good care of her.”
“Okay,” she says slowly as she appraises Lucien again, inch by delicious inch. “Amusez-vous!”
“It was great to meet you, Geneviève,” Lucien says bracing my roommate by the shoulders as they quickly exchange kisses on each cheek in that way that the French do.
Then, Lucien grabs my bag and steps out the front door.
Geneviève grabs me by the wrist, giving me an over-zealous look. “Oh…my…god…” she mouths to me as I go.
I give her a smug grin. “I know. I know.”
Chapter 24
Julia
The other players darted off the field nearly half an hour ago, but Lucien is still on the pitch, engaged in what appears to be a heated conversation with the coach. Even from up here in the stands, I can see the frustration on his gorgeous face and his angry dramatic hand gestures only confirm my suspicions.
I sit in the stands sketching away in my notebook. I saw a woman in the most gorgeous canary yellow shift dress this afternoon and it implanted a few original ideas of my own in my brain, so I want to draw it out before I forget it.
Finally, I hear Lucien calling my n
ame as he heads off the field. When I look down at him, he gestures for me to meet him down at the locker room. I slip my sketchpad into my messenger bag and meet him in the narrow, brightly-lit hallway just outside of the locker room.
“Hey, you…” I say as I approach him. He’s leaning against the doorjamb and he drags the tail of his uniform shirt across his sweaty brow.
Seeing him like this after practice, covered in sweat and mud, smelling earthy and panting from exertion, does something to me. My lips tingle to touch his salty skin. My fingers itch to trail across the sweaty ridges of his torso. And I want him inside of me, grunting and rutting with that expression he makes each time he drives his cleats into the soccer ball.
“Hey.” His fingers curl around my forearm as he leans down and presses his lips to mine. “I will take a quick shower and then we will go home,” he whispers against my lips.
Ummm. Am I crazy or does he taste better than ever?
I stand on my toes and wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him closer, kissing him deeper.
“Shit – je suis tout sale,” Lucien murmurs apologetically when he pulls back and notices that he’s smeared mud and sweat down the front of my white tank top and short skirt.
I give him a coquettish smirk. “Well, I guess we both have to take a shower now, huh?” I tilt my chin in the direction of the locker room showers.
His eyes grow wide as he stares down at me. I can tell that he thinks that I’m crazy but he’s loving the idea just as much as I am.
“C’mon,” I grumble, dragging my hand down his body until I’m cupping his warm semi-erection in my palm. “All your teammates are gone for the night. No one’s here but you and me.”
I see desire flickering in his eyes and I take that as an opening to slide my fingers through his and lead him through the open doorway. Giggling all the way, heart pounding in my chest, I drop my bag to the tiled floor. I step into the stall at the end of the row of shower booths and drag him in with me before hauling the curtain shut and turning on the water. And we’re together under the pounding stream, clothes and cleats and all.
Lucien tilts his head and kisses me. Like he’s hungry. Like he’s starving. “You are such a dirty girl, Julia,” he groans, his fingers sliding up my neck and angling my face.
I moan as his hands slide under my skirt. “Make me clean,” I say wickedly.
His hands grab my ass, coaxing my left leg to wrap around him. He pins me to the tiled wall and the spray continues to beat down our skin. His teeth sink into my lower lip. “I like you better when you are dirty.” I feel his grin against me. “I like you when your pussy is wet, making a mess of my sheets and my come is dripping down your chin. I like it when I’m fucking you from behind and you are so wet I can hear myself splashing in and out of your body. You know I like you dirty, Julia.”
I moan as he sucks on the flesh of my neck and down my chest. His beard bruises my skin when he tugs at the low-cut V of my t-shirt as his lips move over the rise of my breasts.
We both jump when we hear a door slam loudly in the distance. Someone whistles a melody that bounces off the walls.
“Concierge,” he murmurs against my skin. “We must be quick. We do not have much time.”
I nod my head as I struggle to pull the small foil package out of the pocket of my skirt that’s bunched up around my waist.
Lucien cocks an eyebrow when I slap the packaging into the palm of his hand. “You are ready?” I hear the amusement in his voice. He thinks I planned this.
I press my lips to his ears and squeeze the ropey muscles of his biceps. “I’m always ready for you.”
Of course I’m carrying a condom. This is the guy that I fucked in the airplane bathroom after all. Spontaneous sex is nothing new for us.
I slide down to my feet and help him push his soccer shorts down his powerfully-toned calves. He quickly cloaks himself, dropping the condom wrapper to the floor. He spins me around to face the wall. “I want to feel your pussy from behind,” he grunts.
My hands are splayed against the wall. My thighs are spread wide. His fingers roughly spread my folds apart as he expertly pilots his thick cock into me. I squeal loudly as he slides in and out of me, slippery and wild.
He claps his hand over my mouth. “Shhh…Quiet, dirty girl.” He’s growing harder and longer and more wanton with each stroke. “Quiet.”
But it’s building in my belly. So good. So good. I need to scream.
I bite down on his fingers and he yanks his hand away. “Bad girl,” he growls against my ear as his open palm comes down wet and stinging against my ass. My pussy ripples around his cock, clenching and releasing in an erratic rhythm as his hand clasps over my mouth again.
A vacuum cleaner roars to life just outside of the locker room. We’re running out of time.
His breathing is heavy as he rasps hotly in my ear. “Come now, Julia. Right now.” And his open palm makes contact with my wet skin again.
And that’s all it takes.
A howl rips out of my throat. Lucien’s hand rises to my chin and pulls my face back to his. He consumes my sounds in his harsh, reckless kiss. I feel the orgasm coiling in the space between my thighs. Tighter, tighter, tighter. Until my spine curves, my cheek drops against his shoulder and the pleasure unfurls in one vicious wave after another.
He grips my waist and slaps into me again and again as deep as he can go. He bites into my shoulder to drown his carnal moans as he comes long and hard.
Chapter 25
Julia
“This is crazy, right Jules?” Mackenzie says. She’s pacing the room, tugging on the ends of her long, dark hair. She called me using CheekyChat, the anonymous online dating app developed by the startup where Willow is interning this summer. Mackenzie’s CheekyChat avatar follows her movements, perfectly masking her face. “I barely even know the guy. I can’t just drop everything and go to Phoenix with him.”
Mackenzie has had a rough past few months. So, she fled New York and is spending the summer at her brother’s California beach house trying to focus and get her life back on track. But, her next-door neighbor just happens to be the lead singer of the hottest band in the country and he also just happens to be a little crazy in love with her. He’s begging her to accompany him on the first stop of his nationwide tour. To me, it’s the perfect scenario. But Mackenzie has found a way to make that into a problem.
And despite how uncertain and conflicted I’ve been feeling about my own love life, I need to be her rock. I’ve always been the rock for Mackenzie and Willow. To them, I’m Julia, the master of spontaneity and dispenser of sage words. But right now, I feel like a fraud because I can’t even sort out my own feelings.
“I hate to break it to you, Mac-Mac,” I say as I stretch out on the bed, pushing the heavy quilt aside, “but you aren’t exactly doing anything groundbreaking out there in L.A. All you do is rehearse and go to the beach. It’s not like you’re trying to solve world hunger…or find a cure for halitosis.”
I expect her to laugh, but she doesn’t. Instead, her creepy little avatar glares at me and says, “I should be focusing. I came out here to focus on my dancing. Not to follow some musician around like a groupie.”
I laugh bitterly as I snatch my glass of red wine off of Lucien’s bedside table and take a quick sip. I could say exactly the same thing because I’m about to follow this stranger across the country to go meet his family. I glance at my half-packed suitcase lying open in the corner of the room. “Dude – you make it seem like you guys are about to elope or something. It’s just one goddamned concert.”
“In Phoenix,” she stresses the word. I can see that she’s losing her shit.
I sigh. “Yes, in Phoenix. Why is that a big deal?” Judging by the way she’s behaving, you’d think that Phoenix was in a galaxy far, far away. C’mon, Mackenzie – it’s barely 350 miles from Los Angeles.
“I should call him and cancel,” she grumbles.
I can’t help but laugh as I slide o
ff the bed and pull open the drawer where Lucien has neatly stored my perfectly folded clothing. She must be falling hard for this guy if she’s panicking so much. “Why the heck are you so freaked out about this?”
She licks her lips, looking hesitant. “I like him…alot.”
And suddenly, a lightbulb goes off in my head. “You’re in love!”
“No, no. Not love,” she says a little too quickly. “I don’t know him well enough to be in love with him…That would be crazy, right?...Right?”
Foreign Love (An International Sports Romance) (Love in Shades) Page 7