I chatted with a few people, avoided the drunkest of the drunk, and quickly realized that if this was going to be my youth, spent at parties where I was the only sober person, this was going to get old pretty quickly. I looked up and saw there was a balcony on the second floor overlooking the backyard, which was completely empty. How no one had figured out they could jump off of it and be heroes to their friends as they were dragged to the hospital I had no idea, but I decided I was going to take advantage of the privacy.
I made my way back into the house, eventually clawing my way through the hordes of people still pressed together inside and found the stairs. I made my way up and through a hallway, passing Claire and Lucas making their way downstairs. Claire had a sheepish look on her face, and I grinned at her. It looked like she and Lucas had finally hooked up, and I couldn’t wait to tell Noelle all about their sneaking back downstairs in the morning. A good friend totally spills on her other friends’ hookups.
Finally, I found the entrance to the balcony and I stepped outside. It’s funny how some things are. You can be so close to something, and yet feel so far away. As I looked down at the multitude of people below, there had to be nearly a hundred of them, all drinking away happily despite the chill in the air (it had been unusually warm for February this past week, apparently, but it was still definitely winter) I felt completely separate to them. I looked up at the night sky, breathing in the cool air, allowing it to flow through my core, and I felt so alive. I felt calm, at peace, despite the complete and total chaos happening only feet away from me.
I don’t know how long I was up there, gazing up at the sky, willing my mind to completely empty itself. What I do know was that all of a sudden I heard the door to the balcony open again, bringing me back down to earth, back from my reverie. Damn, I guess some of those drunk idiots finally figured out you could get up here.
I turned around to tell them off, but the instant I spun around I stopped. My body melted. I was staring directly into the eyes of Philippe Vaillancourt. I gaped at him, my body outwardly frozen, while my insides tumbled around. Electricity radiated though me, coursing through every fiber of my body. Desire made itself evident, my sex muscles clenching as I looked at Philippe’s perfect face, sculpted like a Greek statue, those dark eyes, so piercing, so strong, gazing at me. The hardness of his face was broken with a smile, revealing those dimples I liked to see so much. Why did this man have such an effect on me?
“Hey,” I finally said, hoping I sounded casual enough.
“Sophie. I did not expect to see you at this party.”
“Why not? It’s a free country.”
“Well, I’m not sure why not. I guess I didn’t think you would be a student at the University.”
“Yes, I’m here as part of the exchange program. What about you? Surely you’re older than me.”
“I’m a graduate student now. But yes, I do attend the University as well. I never would have picked you as being so young.”
“How old do you think I am? And remember, no matter what you answer, I have the right to be insulted.”
Philippe laughed. It was so pure, so beautiful a sound. Compared to his husky, deep voice, his laugh rang completely clearly, and the instant the noise reached my ears I knew I wanted to hear it again. I wanted to make him laugh. Good lord, what was wrong with me?
“I would say you are twenty two.”
“Twenty. Off by two years. How dare you think I’m an old maid of twenty two?”
Again, that laugh. I could feel my body’s reaction, the way juices began to form inside of me when I heard it. Everything about this man turned me on. He was electrifying. I both wanted him to go away and wanted him to take me right here on the balcony at the same time.
“Why are you up here, Sophie? Why do you not go have fun, with the others?”
“I don’t drink.”
“It is rare for a girl of your age to not drink,” Philippe continued, but he didn’t press. I didn’t reply. Eventually, I broke the silence.
“What about you? Why are you here?”
“I have some friends, they are down below. They are heavy drinkers, and they desired to come tonight to find some young girls to have a good time with. They dragged me along with them, as I had no good excuse to not come. But for myself, I prefer not to drink. I know only too well the dangers that come with letting one’s guard down.”
At that last sentence I jerked my head to the side to look at him. Those deep brown eyes were like glass. I could tell he was thinking about something, remembering something, lost in his past. There was pain there. Pain much deeper than mine, I knew that. I wondered what it was, but as a person who experienced some pain of their own, I knew only too well the annoyance of questions from strangers.
I don’t know why I did it, but I put my hand on his. The instant we touched it was like I was hit by a thunderbolt, waves pounding through me, radiating through my fingers, my hand, my arm and then through my core, taking me over completely. I inhaled sharply at the sensation, not used to this kind of reaction to touching a man.
“Thank you, Sophie,” Philippe said softly. “You said you were a part of the exchange program with your school?”
“Yeah. I live in San Francisco, I’m just here for the semester.”
“What was it that made you choose Paris? Was it the sexy creatures such as myself?” Philippe asked, a twinkle returning to his eye as he posed for me on the balcony in an overly extravagant kind of Vogue. I laughed, and he pretended to look hurt.
“You’re not supposed to laugh, you’re supposed to find me incredibly sexy,” he teased. Oh, if only he knew how my body reacted to his every movement.
“I’m sorry,” I teased, “I guess you’re just too sexy for me, I didn’t recognize it.” Again, Philippe’s beautiful laugh rang through the night air. He was all I could hear now. The sounds from down below had completely disappeared in my head. It was just he and I now, both of us here together, alone on the balcony.
Silence passed in between us. It was as though he could feel the same energy as I did. We looked at each other, deep into each other’s eyes. Suddenly, Philippe leaned down and kissed me. I felt like fireworks were going off inside of me. I closed my eyes as I felt his lips, soft, yet passionate, pressing against mine. I was immediately overtaken with passion. My legs felt weak, I could feel my chest pressing against his, my blood felt like I was boiling. The night was cold, but I felt like we could have been in the arctic and I would have been burning up.
Suddenly, Philippe pulled away.
“What am I doing? I’m so sorry Sophie, I didn’t mean to. You’re just so beautiful...” he trailed off. I immediately wrapped my arms around his shoulders and kissed him back. That was all the encouragement he needed. Philippe’s hands found my waist, his hands broad and strong, pulling me towards him. I melted into his touch. His hands being on me, both of them touching me, it sent a fire running through me, a fire unlike any I’d ever felt before. I didn’t know I could even feel this way. I wanted this moment to last forever. I wanted Philippe to grab me, to take me into the bedroom, to ravage me, take me completely. I had never felt this way about a guy before.
His mouth moved to my neck, landing soft kisses on my milky skin. I leaned back and moaned into the night, clutching at his back. I was so full of energy, I just wanted to move! My hands roamed around his body. His arms were definitely muscular under his light jacket, I could feel the bulging of muscle underneath the fabric. His back was sculpted as well, and I could feel his muscles contract and stretch as he kissed me, his own hands discovering my body, making their way around my waist, my back, and slowly down towards my ass.
His hand moved up my body and towards my face. He caresses my cheek with the back of his fingers, every little movement of his hand against me making me press against him closer, wanting more of him. I couldn’t hide the way my body reacts to him, and this was so different to how I’d felt with any other man. I’d never felt any connection like this b
efore with any other man, and yet at the same time I barely knew him. There was just something about Philippe, something that made me react like this to his touch.
His mouth moved back up to mine and he kissed me softly. I pressed in, kissing him back, begging him to force my lips apart. He took his time, slowly nibbling my bottom lip before finally slipping his tongue into my mouth. A small moan escaped me as he did so, slowly discovering the inside of me, and I could feel pressure building inside of me. I felt like I was going to explode if I didn’t get more of him, now.
Again, Philippe’s hands began to roam my body. They made their way to the front of my jacket, slowly undoing the zipper and allowing the coat to slide open before taking his hands and climbing up my front, sliding up slowly, ever so slowly towards my breasts. As his strong hands cupped my chest, I could feel my nipples, hard as diamonds, straining against the fabric. My chest heaved up and down even as he continued to kiss me, playing with my breasts. I pressed against him. I wanted his hands to rip off my top, to reach under the fabric and touch me, skin to skin.
I pulled my lips from his and whispered his name as Philippe moved over and began to nibble my earlobe.
“I love it when you say my name Sophie,” he murmured softly into my ear in between nibbles, and I could only moan in reply. “You’re so beautiful,” he continued.
I felt like I was going to collapse in his arms. My sex was on fire, clenching over and over at the thought of him, when all of a sudden a noise burst in from the door. We pulled apart, both of us breathing heavily, caught red handed as a dozen drunk students burst in on us, having found a new part of the house to party in.
I did my coat up quickly, then followed Philippe as he motioned for me to enter the house with him.
“Would you like to go for a walk with me?” he asked when we were back inside.
“Well, that depends. Would you call what we just did there a walk?” I replied back with a grin. He grinned back.
“No, walking doesn’t usually get my heart pounding that fast. What do you say?”
“That would be nice,” I replied. I needed some air anyway after what had just happened. Like seriously, holy shit. This wasn’t the sort of thing I did. I had never randomly made out with someone, ever. I wasn’t the type of girl who did things like have one night stands. I was all about serious, long, committed relationships, and I’d even given up on those after Mike. So what was I doing at a random party, completely sober, swapping spit with some random, no matter how hot he might be?
Philippe led me out the front door. Despite having been outside only minutes before, this felt different. I suddenly felt the chill of the night air penetrating me, and I zipped my jacket back up.
“Just so you know... that umm, that sort of thing isn’t something I usually do,” I stammered after we had walked about ten meters.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I don’t really do the fling stuff. There was just something about you I couldn’t resist, but it’s just not me. There’s just something... different about you.”
“You are trying to tell me you are not a slut, is that right?”
“Basically, yes,” I replied. It was a blunt way of saying it, which I chalked up to a bit of a language barrier, but the point was true.
“I must admit, it is the same for me. But I like your smile. And the more I speak with you, the more I like you. There is something different about you too.”
“Well, I’m American, I guess I grew up in a place so different to Paris that you definitely would think so.”
“No, it is more than that. As much as being American makes you strange,” he teased with a smile, “there is more than just that. You are special, Sophie.”
I could feel the blush crawling up my face, and I was glad it was pitch black out. What was it about this man that made me react this way? I wanted to ask him about his warning the other day. I wanted to ask him about why he told me to stay away from Jacques, but this wasn’t the right time. Why had this guy come into my life like this?
“If it is not too forward of me to ask, Sophie, I would like to take you out sometime. Perhaps to the Louvre?”
“Sure, I’d like that,” I replied. Maybe then I’d find an opportunity to ask him again about Jacques. We walked in silence for a while. It was funny, I’d never been comfortable around anyone else in complete silence. I guess it came from my childhood, where silence usually meant something bad, but here it felt, well it felt right. For the first time in my life I truly understood the phrase ‘comfortable silence’. I was experiencing it, right here as I walked down this suburban street late at night with Philippe.
Finally, I broke the silence.
“Have you lived in Paris all your life?”
“No, I actually come from a village in the country. My sister and I moved here together when we graduated from the Lycée, what I think you would call high school.”
“Oh, you have a sister?”
I must have imagined it, but for a second as I looked up at Philippe, it seemed as though a shadow passed across his face.
“Yes, Stephanie. She has left University after getting her first degree, rather than continuing on with a Master’s as I have done. She now works for a consulting firm in the city. She is so smart, so beautiful, one could not ask for a better sister.”
“Are you the same age?”
“We are twins, yes. She is the older one, and she never lets me forget it.”
“Do you prefer the country, or the city?”
“Wow, the questions just don’t stop with you, do they?” Philippe teased. “It is my turn! You have asked me questions, now I want to know about the strange foreign land you come from.”
I laughed. “Ok, shoot.”
“What?”
“Oh, sorry, ‘shoot’ is kind of an American term meaning ‘go ahead’, as in ‘go ahead and ask your question’,” I replied, silently scolding myself for not realizing that of course Philippe wouldn’t know the expression.
“Ok. Is France the first foreign country you have been to?”
“Yes. My family wasn’t rich growing up, so we never had the opportunity to go overseas.” It wasn’t a total lie, only the part about me actually having a family.
“What do you think of France?”
“It is a nice country. It’s very different to America. I don’t know. I think it would be like comparing apples and oranges. There are a lot of things that I like about France, but there are also a number of things about America that I miss.”
“I can understand that. You must miss your family.”
I don’t know why, but the way Philippe phrased that made tears come to my eyes. Maybe it was the fondness with which he spoke of his sister earlier, or the question he had just asked. After all, the French people generally seemed to be so close to their families, much more so than my friends back home. But something about it made me start to cry. I tried to hide it from Philippe, but a light coming from a house lit up one of the tears that slowly made its way down my cheek.
“Oh Sophie, I am sorry. I did not mean to ask a question I should not have,” he exclaimed, wiping my tear away with his finger. Again, heat and electricity coursed through me at his touch.
“It’s, it’s ok,” I replied, wanting him to touch me again.
“Let’s go back to the house. I’m sorry, Sophie. I did not mean for such a sensitive topic to be spoken about.”
“It’s not your fault,” I replied with a small smile. He wrapped his arm around me as he led me slowly back towards the house, and I thought I was going to melt into him. The entire time, the entire walk back, Philippe asked nothing about my reaction. I was so appreciative of the space he gave me. Most people, as soon as they learned even a tiny bit about my home life, wanted to know everything. They pressed me, like I was some kind of animal in a zoo to be gaped at, and the more they pressed the more I curled up into my shell. Philippe didn’t do any of it. It was like he was happy to comfort me without even kno
wing what he was comforting me for.
When we got back to the house, Philippe and I exchanged phone numbers, and we held each other’s gaze for a few minutes before he left. It was so intense, so electrifying, I constantly felt I should look away, but I didn’t. I didn’t stop looking at him. Finally, Philippe told me he would text me soon and left.
I turned back into the house to find Noelle and Claire and realized I had the goofiest smile on my face. I hadn’t felt this happy, well, ever, if I was honest. And all because of one walk? I’d been so upset only minutes earlier, what was wrong with me? This felt weird. I wasn’t used to being so idyllically happy. I thought back to sitting by the lake with Mike just before summer vacation ended last year. I thought that was the peak, I thought I could never be happier than in that moment. I was wrong. I was happier here, alone in this house full of drunk people where I was the only sober one, thinking about a guy I barely knew that I’d just made out with.
Seriously, what was wrong with me?
Chapter Nine
When my phone made that little boing noise it makes to tell me I got a text around noon the next day, I practically dove for the phone, hoping it was Philippe. When I saw it was Jacques, however, I was immediately relegated to feeling a sense of guilt instead. I had almost completely forgotten Jacques existed! And yet, he was so nice to me. He took me to places I could have never imagined, he never pushed my boundaries, but at the same time he also never made me feel those things I felt with Philippe. I read the text:
“Sophie, I have decided I would love to photograph you. If you are interested, come to my studio at 3.”
My initial reaction when I read the text wasn’t one of excitement. I was kind of nervous, and not really enthusiastic about this. I wasn’t the type of person who shone for the camera, growing up I had always shied away from attention. I guess it’s kind of natural when you grow up like me. Anyway, because of that, I had very few photos of myself. It’s not like my mother went out of her way to take pictures of me, and actually having a professional shoot me, even one as nice as Jacques, wasn’t something I was super comfortable with.
Tangled: A New Adult Romance Boxed Set (12 Book Bundle of Billionaires, Bad Boys, and Royalty) Page 143