Apparently, Nigel didn’t hear her. Lost in relief, he sighed with a lengthy, “Ahhh…”
When he finally emerged, she smiled at him. “All better?”
With a slight nod, he took her shoulders in his hands. “Oh, yeah…”
Before she knew it, their lips tangoed once again, teasing with relentless passion as the rest of the hotel slept. It had to be close to midnight.
“Okay, Miss Gallimore,” he muttered, but he didn’t stop kissing her. “You’ve been toying with me for twenty-four hours now.”
“You, too…”
With his body, he guided her through the open door that led to the hotel’s breakfast room, and he backed her into a booth in the corner where he took a seat. Eagerly, January dropped to her knees between his legs.
“I wanna suck your cock…”
The notion thrilled him, but Nigel just couldn’t get enough of kissing those red lips. “Now?”
“Right now. I want you between my lips,” she said as she felt the hard length of him through his jeans with one hand and reached for his zipper with the other. “Love being down on my knees...”
Somehow, Nigel’s own clever hands managed to unzip the back of her dress. He gave a pull to her bra straps and pushed her breasts against the cups, partially exposing her nipples.
“Oh, suck my tits, please?” she begged him. “Please?”
“Quite charming when you beg,” he told her, his teeth sinking into flesh and fabric at the same time while his tongue searched for her nipple. All the while, Nigel felt as if he’d stepped outside his own body. He couldn’t believe that he’d consented to this reckless play in the back of some cheap hotel.
January’s heart soared—there was hope for Nigel after all!
Her thighs were so slick with her arousal that she could barely manage to hold herself up, but she was determined. Fingers fighting his belt, she struggled to free him.
“Damn cock…just want you so bad…”
Then she froze, and her heart stopped briefly as an angry voice demanded in French, “What are you doing in here?”
Chapter Thirteen
Then the bright lights flicked on with one angry swipe, blinding them while simultaneously awakening them to reality.
“Well, fucking hell!”
“Shhh…”
“What are you doing here?” the concierge asked again in stilted English, although, with Nigel’s unzipped fly and January’s breasts popping over the neckline of her dress, he questioned the obvious. “There are rooms upstairs.”
“We’re paying guests, Monsieur,” Nigel insisted as he pulled January in front of him to zip his jeans. “I shall take this up with the General Manager.”
Somehow, January stood up and made a quick fix to her dress as Nigel stepped forward, pulling her toward the door behind him. With caution, he navigated around the concierge, as January slipped off her shoes in preparation to run.
“Where is your key?” the concierge challenged while Nigel pretended to search his pockets. “What room are you in?”
“One!”
In a lightning-quick flash, January and Nigel joined hands and took off down the hallway, through the lobby and out the front door. In fact, they didn’t slow down for at least two blocks, but they laughed all the while.
As they both nearly collapsed from their exhaustive run, January punched him playfully on the arm. However, Nigel just couldn’t stop laughing while he turned his attention to zipping up her dress.
“One? What fucking hotel has a room number one?” She continued to babble, now switching from a French accent to an English one in her imitation of his brief conversation with the concierge. “What room are you in? One…”
“You know,” he smirked as his lungs returned to a steady rise and fall, “you do those voices beautifully.” Behind them, he found a park bench and patted the seat for January to join him for a moment to recuperate. “You’re very funny, January.”
“Well, it’s all part of the job, Nigel. All part of the job.”
Tilting his head to one side, he gazed into her gray eyes, flecked with speckles of navy. “What are you talking about?”
“You still don’t know, do you?” she asked as she slipped back into her shoes. “You don’t know who I am?”
Nigel’s face creased in confusion. “You’re a spirited American with a twisted sense of adventure that I’m growing to really like…”
Touching her hand to his cheek, she hoped he wouldn’t be angry with her. “And you’re very sweet.”
“Are you really Mrs. Xavier Ranard?” Nigel winked at her. “I knew it all along…”
“Nigel,” she whispered and took his hand. “I have a confession to make.”
“Oh, no…” He shook his head as if he couldn’t withstand to hear anything that might shake up the fun he’d been having with her for the last two days. “January, what is it? What’s the matter?”
“I’m not exactly who you think I am. In fact, I’m not sure who you think I am.”
“I have no idea what you’re trying to tell me, but please, just be honest.”
“I’m January Gallimore,” she said. “Ever hear of a film called Happily Never After? Or how about Love and War?”
Still, he shook his head. “Sounds familiar, but I’m not much of a film buff. I prefer live theater.”
“Nigel, I made those movies—I starred in them,” she revealed. “And if you Google me, you’ll find out a few more things about my life.”
“You’re…you’re an actress? Like a legitimate Hollywood actress?” he questioned her.
Insecurities mounting, she nodded slowly. “Is that…does that bother you?”
“No…” However, he didn’t answer her with much conviction. “I mean…what bothers me is…why didn’t you say something earlier?”
The truth hurt just as much as it liberated her.
“Because I was having too much fun just being myself for once.” Much to her surprise, she caught a tear in her eye. He’d made her feel more emotional than she’d realized.
However, she just couldn’t read the look on his face. She couldn’t tell if he was about to smile at her or just walk away. “Nigel, what are you thinking?”
“Well, does that really change anything?” he asked. “Should it change anything? I’m having fun with you, too—with the real you. Do I need to meet the other January? Will I like her just as much?”
She was genuinely surprised by his words. He just enjoyed her company. That was a first for January. Men always seemed to have an ulterior motive.
“It’s just…it’s just the public’s perception of me,” she stammered. “Most people tolerate me, I think. Others…others think I’m a sinner.”
“A sinner?” he chuckled. “Why would they think that?”
“Let’s just say I got caught in a Dungeon a few years back—and you might still find some of those photos lingering online.”
“Oh, you mean with the—um, like this morning?”
“Yep—and you thought tonight was the first time I got caught with my panties down, didn’t you?”
“Maybe I’ll use those photos for fodder one day,” he said. “I knew her when…”
“You’re cute, Nigel.”
Silence impeded the conversation. Neither one of them knew what the hell to do—which move to make next—but they couldn’t deny each other.
“January Gallimore…” He took her hands in his and pulled her close.
“Yes?”
“How long are you here? A week?”
The thought that she might not see him again after this vacation pummeled her emotions. “Yes…”
“Let’s make the best of this, shall we?” He tilted her chin to give her one sweet kiss on the lips. “Can we do that? Or am I beneath you?”
“Hell, no!” she said. “In fact, I’d love to have you on top of me right about now.”
“Well, there’s no room at the inn from which we just came,” he said as he clea
red his throat.
“There’s your car…”
“January!”
She loved how she could shock him. “Oh, I am not kidding.”
“That’s what I fear.” He stood up with his arms around her. “I…I haven’t done that since…”
“Since high school?”
“Well…” He hesitated once again. “University, actually…”
“Nigel, let’s go fuck like two teenagers right now—in the backseat of your car.” January started off down the street toward the direction of the bar once again. “You’ve left me waiting for twenty-four hours. And I’m an impatient girl. I needed you yesterday. We’re almost into tomorrow. And we’re wasting time here.”
“Wait, January—wait!” Nigel jogged down the street to catch up to her and pulled her into his arms. Aside from his quick glances to make sure that they were heading in the right direction, his lips remained locked upon hers throughout their entire walk.
They passed Esclave Bar, and the party raged louder and stronger than when they left. Her worst nightmare was the possibility that Xavier had a miserable night and waited for them in the parking lot.
However, not a soul was to be found. They were completely alone.
“Let’s not waste another second, shall we?” He unlocked the car and opened the back door. “Ladies first.”
With a lack of gentility, January climbed into the backseat and fell back laughing while Nigel crawled over her and pulled the door shut with his foot. Stretching out his arms, he braced himself above her, readying to kiss her. However, he pulled back all too suddenly and bumped his head on the roof.
“Bastard!” Nigel cursed himself and rubbed his skull. “Dammit!”
“Oh, come here.” Already, her hands were working his belt again.
“January, we can’t do this.”
Eyes fluttering closed, she hissed through clenched teeth. Now, he decided that he didn’t want her. Maybe her career revelation was too much for him to handle. Perhaps it was just too soon, even though she felt like she’d known him a lifetime already.
“What the fuck do you mean?” she demanded.
“Well…unless—”
She wouldn’t let him speak, but she wanted to get to the bottom of his reluctance. “Unless what?”
“Unless you’re on the pill…”
A maniacal laugh slowly rumbled through her body until she was howling and kicking and shaking from his unassuming attempt at humor. “That’s it? That’s all?” And then she started cackling again.
“What the devil is so funny?” As he pulled back with a look of disdain, he slammed his head again. “Bloody hell! Cramped car. And why are you laughing at me? It’s a reasonable, important question.”
Lifting her small bag from the car’s floor, she placed it on her stomach. “Look inside.”
“I do not open women’s handbags.”
“Open the motherfucker before I play switch and go Dominatrix on you,” she screamed.
“Now, are you threatening to spank me?”
“Open the damn thing…and fuck me…”
With great qualms, he followed her command, and his hands trembled as he worked at the clasp. Nigel felt like he was digging through his mother’s wallet. “What the…?”
Before they left for the evening, Xavier had dumped nearly an entire box of condoms into her purse.
“You can thank Xav,” she told him. “He was hoping I’d have a good time—a really good time.”
Nigel fumbled so frantically that he almost spilled the contents of her bag, and January reached out to hold his hand still.
“Well, I would have bought them, but I didn’t want to seem...presumptuous.”
Inhibition, if she had any, fled like a robber who stole the Mona Lisa from the Louvre, as she strategically placed her hand on his leg to stroke his inner-thigh with the tips of her long red nails. “I wouldn’t have minded.”
“You’re a better girl than that,” he told her with all sincerity. “You deserve more.”
While his sweet words lured her further into the depths of his soul, she couldn’t hide her own needs. “Even good girls can be bad…”
“Yes, I’m aware,” he said as he plucked a condom from her purse and placed it on the back dash. “And I’m sure we’ll get to that. But right here—right now in this bloody car—I just want to make love with you…”
Her response was one lengthy sigh of disbelief. For once in her life, a first fuck meant something—emotionally—to someone other than herself, and she didn’t know how to react. “Really?”
“Yep,” he said, dusting his lips over her temple and down her cheek. “Really…”
As his mouth descended upon hers, she opened those full lips in eagerness, hoping to please him and willing herself not to let him down. Her arms wound around his neck, and her skirt hiked up while she encircled his back with her legs.
“You’re so beautiful—and I don’t just mean here…” He punctuated his words with a quick kiss to her cheek. “I mean in here, too…”
When his hand rested on her chest—systematically avoiding contact with the obvious—she felt her face freeze as gleeful tears filled her eyes.
Nigel could have just been a great charmer for all January knew, but her instincts insisted that he was genuine in word and deed. “Make love to me,” she challenged, her eyes holding on to him in the darkness.
As clumsy as Nigel could be, he upheld such command with her in his passion. First, his fingers massaged into her thick black hair as he continued to kiss her, while his body blanketed her gently and shaped to the upward curve of her back.
While he didn’t try to overpower January, Nigel sought control of their dalliance. He took his time, as if they had forever and a day together, and caressed her with his hands, his lips and his face. Just the feel of his breath tickling her neck sent quivers rippling through her body. Maybe she’d needed this alluring young man all along.
Even when he took a break from their kiss, Nigel never stopped touching her. His hands smoothed along her arms, and his fingers feathered over her shoulders just beneath the strap of her dress. Certainly, he wanted her as his cock poked against the fly of his tight jeans; however, there was no rush or force involved in his desires.
Starting at her ankles, he wrung his large hands around her legs and drifted upward, taking a long moment to look at January before pushing her skirt playfully up to her waist.
While his fingers teased at the scallops of her lace panties where they met her leg, she gasped at the silky sensation of his touch. Again, he avoided overt contact with her sex, and his fingers brushed on toward her slippery inner-thighs.
“Somehow, we’ve got to get out of these clothes,” Nigel contemplated out loud. “But you’re so lovely just like this.”
Suddenly, January felt uncharacteristically shy. In any other scenario, she would have clawed to take his shirt off, but she stopped herself. She took the time to trace his angular jaw and rub away her lipstick stains from his mouth, chuckling to herself because she knew there were more kisses to follow.
When at last her fingers arrived at the zipper on his shirt, she took a deep breath. January wanted this moment with Nigel to last a lifetime.
His cheek nuzzled her hand as she moved slowly, trembling now. Nigel helped her to lift his shirt, rushing her a bit. Just as sculpted as she imagined, Nigel was cut in all the right places. Her eyes began at the hefty curve of the muscles in his upper arms and then found their way across the strong length of his shoulders and chest. Studying him as one might regard the statue of David, she took note of the definition of his abs…
And then January halted, immobile beneath him when she noticed the scar just to the right of his navel. In the darkness, she couldn’t discern if it was a cut or a burn—or something else entirely.
“Oh, Nigel…” Suddenly, she felt as if there was something in her throat. “Nigel, what happened to you?”
“Aw, it’s nothing, really…�
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“But you…you were hurt?”
“Let’s just have tonight, January. I will tell you tomorrow.” He threaded his fingers through hers and gave them an almost painful squeeze. “I promise.”
However, January wasn’t one to allow something important to drop so easily. “Nigel…”
“I am a man of my word,” he said. “I will tell you tomorrow. Right now, I’d really like to make love to you.”
It wasn’t like her to sit in silence, but for the moment, she had to let it go. It wasn’t a large scar, but it was ugly—like a misshapen circle of flesh had been ripped right from his perfect skin. Based on his reaction, it wasn’t some childhood accident. The thought left her shivering.
Bending at the waist, she leaned down and placed one delicate kiss on his blemish that marred his flat stomach. For a fleeting moment, she wondered if her earlier suspicions of his overwhelming sadness had something to do with this wound. “Whatever it is…I’m sorry that it happened to you. And I really hope that you’re okay.”
It did take some coaxing to get her to relax, but January refused to forget his promise. Under other circumstances, she wouldn’t have pressed him, but in this case, he’d dodged her questions. She hated avoidance. She’d had five years of that with Etienne.
But those lips lured her back. Just as she felt her body sinking into the leather seat, Nigel lifted her delicately by the shoulders to unzip her dress.
“If I may…?” he said as his hands moved around her back.
“Rip it off.”
“We’ve got to go back to the club,” he reminded her. “To pick up Xavier.”
“I’ll sit in the car.”
“I’ll save your dress instead.”
As the back opened, the straps fell, and he lifted the now rumpled dress over her head. A few wrinkles were nothing. January was known to ruin a few outfits for the sake of sex.
Always the gentleman, Nigel draped her clothes over the front seat, leaving her in a simple set of white lace lingerie.
Still, though, there was no rush to rip away the scanty clothes she wore. In fact, he seemed to enjoy the art of the tease. Cupping her breasts, Nigel pressed his thumbs into her nipples through her bra, and January held on to him for strength. Nigel managed to reduce her to a trembling, ravenous shell of herself without much effort. Just the feel of his hands, molding and kneading her body, brought her exquisite pleasures. In the heat of the moment, she absorbed every second, delighting in the decadent ecstasy he brought to her to her body.
SMITTEN (Paris Après Minuit) Page 18