by M. S. Parker
I nodded, not trusting my voice to speak.
“Get some sleep.” He kissed my temple. “I'll be here when you wake up.”
I pulled his arms more tightly around me. I didn't think I could to sleep, but I had no problem lying here in his arms while he slept. I'd never shared a bed with someone, not even by accident. Tomas and Kai had been diligent about me never falling asleep when Aaron and I hung out. The night we'd slept together, I'd left almost immediately after it was over.
Now, with Reed's arms around me, I knew what I'd been missing. Warmth. Safety. I felt his heart beating against my back, the slow rise and fall of his chest. The faint stubble on his cheeks was rough as he tucked his chin against me. I could feel his cock against my ass, soft and still slick with the results of our union. The logical part of me said we should clean up, but I was content where I was and didn't want to go anywhere.
The last thought was sleepy and I was surprised to feel my eyelids starting to fall. I'd rest them, I decided. It wasn't like I could see Reed anyway. It was more about feeling him. I was still concentrating on the various places our bodies touched when I finally slipped under.
I didn't know how long I slept, only that morning light was peeking between the curtains. It was still early though and, like he'd promised, Reed was still there. He'd shifted at some point during the night. We both had. He was on his back and I was laying half on his chest, one of his arms wrapped around me, his other hand on his stomach. The sheet was low on his waist, barely hiding what I knew was underneath.
I looked up at him, enjoying the chance to see him in a new way. He looked much younger asleep, closer to my age than to thirty. His face was relaxed, with none of the worry I'd seen. Even when he'd been laughing or we'd been in bed, there had still been little lines on his face. Based on what he'd told me about the stress he'd been under back in the States, I supposed it wasn't surprising. Now, however, all of that was gone.
I shifted slowly, not wanting to wake him, but needing to see him better. His hand slid down my back, coming to rest just above my ass, but he didn't wake up. I reached out, hesitating with my hand just above his face. I traced his lips with the lightest of touches, letting my fingers memorize their shape and feel. I could feel them now, the ghost of them on my mouth, between my legs, on my body.
Heat pooled in my stomach. I wanted him again. I wished I had more time. That I could take him in my mouth while he was still soft, feel him grow and swell as I licked and sucked the soft flesh. I hadn't gone down on Aaron that night. Reed was the only man I'd taken in my mouth and the memory of his taste was still thick on my tongue.
Before Reed, I'd never imagined I'd want to do something like that, but I'd loved the sounds he'd made, the way I felt. I loved that I could make him come apart, the look in his eyes when I'd swallowed every drop. I hadn't known what I was doing, but I didn't doubt I'd done well.
I was surprised at how easily sex had come to me. Things had been awkward with Aaron, but he'd assured me that first times were always like that. I wasn't sure that the difference between the first and second time was that drastic with everyone, but there hadn't been any awkwardness with Reed. It had felt natural, right. My body had moved with his in a way it hadn't with Aaron, and I didn't think it was simply because I'd done it once before.
His hair fell across his forehead and I gently pushed it back. I smiled at the mess it was. I could almost imagine him struggling with it before going in to work, trying to get it to lie flat. I wondered if it ever did, but as much as I tried, I couldn't quite picture him with neatly combed hair. In a suit, yes, but not looking like the hundreds of other businessmen I'd seen. My smile widened. It didn't matter what he wore or how he looked. Reed could never be like anyone else.
A lump rose in my throat and my eyes pricked with tears. I couldn't put it off any longer. I eased out from under his arm. I'd promised Tomas and Kai that I would leave with them, and I meant to keep my word. I wouldn’t give them any excuse to burst back in. Reed and I'd had our perfect night together and I would keep that memory safe, untainted by a confrontation.
I climbed off of the bed as carefully as I could. I didn't want to say good-bye. Mostly because I didn't know how to do it. We'd already done the awkward one-night stand good-bye, but this time it was different. He meant more to me than just a single night. But I didn't know what that actually meant. I couldn't tell him that I hoped we'd see each other again, because that could never happen. If he woke up, I wouldn't know what to say.
And I couldn't say for certain that I'd have the strength to leave him if he did. One kiss, even a kiss good-bye, and I couldn't guarantee I'd be able to walk away. I didn't think clearly when I was with him, when he was touching me. The very fact that I was here was evidence to that. Before I'd met him, my rebellions had been little ones. I would never have dreamed of spending a day in Venice without my bodyguards, but he emboldened me, made me act more impulsively than I ever had before. Even my rebellions had been planned out.
I gathered up my clothes from where I'd left them and headed into the bathroom. I didn't take a shower, not wanting to waste the time or risk Reed waking. I cleaned up as quickly and as best I could, then dressed again. I scowled as I pulled on the clothes I'd worn yesterday. I hated the feel of them, but I didn't have any other options. At least one good thing would come out of having to go straight to the plane and home. No one would think it weird I wanted to shower, put on some clean clothes and sleep.
How different this would be if I'd just been some girl he'd met in Paris. Someone with a normal family.
I shook my head and splashed cold water on my face. I couldn't think of that now. The time for flights of fancy and daydreams had passed. It was time to move on, to do my duty. I knew what it would mean and what was expected of me. I’d been raised for this. Born for this.
I took a steadying breath and walked back into the bedroom. I'd half expected Reed to be awake, but he was where I'd left him. More or less. He was on his side now, but he still appeared to be asleep. That was good. I didn't want him awake, but I also didn't want to leave without something to say good-bye. Reed deserved better than that.
On the desk was a sheaf of paper and a pen. A note would have to do. I stood there for a moment, wondering what to write. The words came more easily than I'd thought and it didn't take me long to get them all down. I folded the note and turned towards the bed. I set it on the end table and let myself have one final look at Reed. I leaned down and brushed my lips across his forehead. I couldn't stop the tear that trailed down my cheek, but I hurried out of the room before others could follow.
I'd wanted the time with Reed so I'd always remember him, but as I left the bedroom, I knew I couldn't hope for Reed to do the same. He needed to forget me. And that's what I'd told him.
My note had been simple.
Thank you for giving me what I needed. I can move on with my life now. I wish you all the happiness in the world.
And I did wish him that. I just wished that he could've been happy with me.
Chapter 20
Reed
I hadn't fallen asleep with any of the women I'd slept with since leaving the States, but it had felt natural to do so with Nami. Her body fit perfectly against mine, back against my chest, head tucked under my chin. I'd wanted to stay awake all night, knowing that I wouldn't have this chance again, but the lack of sleep the previous night and a busy day were a strong combination and I hadn't been able to resist. It was a deep, dreamless sleep and when I started to gradually wake it was that slow, thick waking, the kind that felt like swimming through molasses.
The first thing I knew was that she was no longer in bed with me. Her body heat was gone, but I could hear her moving around. I kept my eyes closed until I heard a door close. I opened my eyes and saw that she'd gone into the bathroom. I rolled onto my side, unsure of what I should do.
Would it be better to let her know I was up? Should I actually get up and dress so I could walk her to the door?
Or would it be better to stay in the bed and say good-bye from here? That felt crass. But what would I say when she walked out of the bathroom? A simple 'good morning' felt trite, but I didn't think it'd be fair to expect anything else.
I didn't know how to do this. How to say good-bye. The other women I'd slept with had either left when we were done, or I'd been the one leaving. There hadn't been cuddling, sleeping, lingering. There'd been no expectations and no hard feelings. Before everything had gone to hell back home, I'd dated, but in those instances, the morning after good-byes hadn't been weird because I'd known I'd be seeing them again. With Nami, that wasn't the case. I had no clue what was appropriate.
I had another problem with not knowing what to say. It was less about appropriate and more about not being able to find the right words to either tell her what I felt or to hide it. Would it be fair to tell her that I didn't want her to go? Would she think it was a ploy, just me saying it to make what we'd done feel less like a hook-up?
And if she believed I was telling the truth, what then? It wouldn't change anything. Before she'd told me the truth, I might've thought she could do what I'd done and break away, but I knew now that wasn't a possibility. A family business was one thing. A kingdom was another. And telling her that I wanted to see her again would just be cruel to both of us. We both knew it wasn’t going to happen.
The other option was just as unappealing. If I walked her to the door or stayed in bed, only telling her good-bye and that it had been fun, would she think I didn't care? Would she believe this entire thing had only a mere blip on my radar? Her words to me echoed in my mind. She said she would never forget me. I felt the same way. No matter where I went from here, I'd never forget her and the short time we had together.
I was torn, neither choice giving me anything to work with. Unless, the thought came to me, I didn't let her know I was awake at all. If she wanted to talk to me, she could wake me up. In that case, I could let her speak first and base my response on her words. And if she didn't, it would've been her choice not to say good-bye.
The doorknob turned and I made my decision. I closed my eyes and kept my breathing even. I heard her walking, then nothing for a minute or two. I risked opening my eyes a sliver. She was still here, standing at the desk and frowning at a piece of paper. As I watched, she wrote a few lines and set down the pen. I quickly closed my eyes and a moment later, I was glad I had. I felt more than heard her coming towards me and stop next to the bed.
The light brush of her lips against my forehead almost made me lose my resolve and then I felt a drip of liquid on my skin. My stomach twisted. She was crying. It took all of my self-control not to jump up and go to her. I hated knowing that I'd been the cause of her tears and the thought of her in pain made my own heart ache.
Dammit!
When I heard the main door close, I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling. Had this been a bad idea? Should I have walked away at the club? Not gotten on the train? Not suggested we leave together? I'd had a dozen points where I could've walked away and I hadn't used any of them. Who knew how different things would've been if I'd done the smart thing. It seemed like all I did lately was second-guess my decisions.
I sat up. It didn't matter now. I made my choices and, for better or for worse, I had to live with the consequences. Unfortunately, one of those seemed to be a deeper attachment than I'd ever meant to have.
I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, ready to head into the bathroom for a long, hot shower. That's when I saw it. There was a folded piece of paper sitting on the table next to the bed. I didn't want to read it, but I picked it up anyway. It was brief and I read it three times before the words sunk in.
She planned to move on and she wanted me to do the same. She wished me all the best. I wished her the same. I just wished it could've been with me. She was right, and I hated it. We had to move past this. It was the best thing for everyone involved.
She'd go back to her family and her country. Marry whoever her parents had chosen for her. Become a mother and a queen. I'd finish my trip and figure out what I was going to do with the rest of my life. We both might look back on these couple days fondly, but that's all they would be. Memories.
I ran my hand through my hair as I stood. It was time to let go. Time to do as she'd said and move on. Still, a part of me said to go after her, to tell her that we owed it to ourselves to see where this could go. I silenced the voice as I walked into the bathroom. Shower, then eat. After that, I’d move on with the rest of my life. Our time was up.
Continues in Exotic Desires Vol. II
Exotic Desires Vol. II
Chapter 1
Reed
I'd spent the last two weeks trying to convince myself that this was what I wanted to do, where I wanted to be. I'd spent three more days in Venice, but that was mostly because I'd forgotten my luggage on the train when I'd run off with...her.
I could've bought new clothes, but I'd decided against it in favor of spending the time drinking while I'd waited for them to be shipped back. The next day, I'd bought a new ticket to Madrid and left, hoping the memories would stay in Venice.
They hadn't.
I'd partied in Spain, drinking enough that I'd spent most mornings hanging over the toilet. After a week, I'd moved on to Lisbon, Portugal. Two days ago, I'd given up on the cities and headed to my family's villa in France. It was just outside of Marseille, perfectly located for a trip in to the city, to enjoy what it had to offer, but far enough away that I could have quiet if I wanted it.
I'd tried quiet yesterday. It had ended with me drinking pretty much everything in the villa and passing out on the floor until past noon today. Tonight, I planned to head into the city and see if I could find someone to take my mind off things. I'd been focusing on alcohol rather than sex, but I think that might have been why I couldn’t stop thinking about her.
I ran my hand down my face.
Her. Nami Carr. Fucking Princess Nami. Meeting her had been chance, but everything that had followed had been choice. Hers and mine. I'd intended for it to be nothing more than a fling. A fun one, but a fling nonetheless. I'd had dozens of them during my trip, and none of them stood out. I could barely tell one from the other in my memory. Blondes and brunettes – no red-heads because I hadn't wanted to be reminded of Piper – they all blurred together. Some had been aggressive, liking it rough. Others had wanted me to be gentle. I remembered bits and pieces of what we'd done. The positions we'd fucked in, a little kink here and there.
Except for Nami. I could remember every detail of my time with her. How her body had felt beneath mine. The sounds she'd made...
I bolted off the couch and headed for the bathroom. There was no doubt about it. I needed to get laid. The lack of sex had to be the reason I couldn't stop thinking about her. I needed someone else to get my mind off of the pretty princess.
I splashed some cold water on my face, ran my hands through my hair and then headed into my bedroom to find what I wanted to wear. The villa wasn't as large as my family's home in Philadelphia, but it was big enough to have a bedroom for my parents, myself, my younger sister Rebecca, and a guest room, as well as two bathrooms, a full kitchen, dining room and living room. My parents had bought it for family vacations. I hadn't been here in years though. Running the Stirling family business hadn't left much time for vacations. Hell, I'd even cut my honeymoon short.
I snorted a laugh. Honeymoon. The entire marriage had been a joke. I hadn't wanted to marry Britni Michaels and she hadn't wanted to marry me either. Sure, we'd slept together, but there'd been no passion, no real attraction. We'd done what we'd needed to do. I'd never asked who she'd been thinking of when we'd fucked, but I sure as hell hadn't been thinking about her. I waited for the familiar burst of shame and guilt but didn't feel it. For the first time since I'd left Philadelphia, I could think of the entire mess without any strong emotion. I was pretty sure that Piper had been right when she'd told me that what she and I’d had hadn't been real, an
d this was further confirmation of it. That was a relief. I wasn't in a hurry to rush home, but at least now I knew that when I did, I'd be able to handle it.
I gave myself a glance in the mirror, thought about trying to smooth down the mess of gold that was my hair, then decided against it. I knew I looked tired, but I also knew it wouldn't matter. I was a good-looking guy. I wouldn't have trouble getting a woman to come back with me. I looked away from the mirror before I could see the doubt in the near-black pools of my eyes. Not doubt about my ability to get a woman. Doubt about whether or not I really wanted to.
I pushed the thought aside and headed out to the garage. We had three cars here and our groundskeeper kept them all in excellent shape. I chose my favorite – the black Spyder – and drove in to Marseille to see what I could find.
A couple hours later, I had a bit of a buzz, but not so much that driving was a bad idea. I also had a tall, thin blonde wearing a dress that probably should've been classified as a handkerchief. Said handkerchief was currently riding up so that I could see the tiny string of red lace that made up her thong as well as her firm ass. I could see this because she was on her knees in the passenger's seat despite my strong objections that this was dangerous. Her breasts were pressed against my arm, her hand rubbing my half-hard cock through my pants. This was my compromise. She'd originally been trying to get her hand down my pants while promising to do things with her mouth that I was pretty sure were illegal in most places in the States.
When we got to the villa, she climbed out of the car, gave me a grin and pulled her dress over her head, dropping it onto the floor of the garage. She wasn't wearing a bra and her rose-colored nipples jutted out from her small breasts. Her thong barely covered more in the front than it did in the back, the sheer fabric leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination.
“Is this your car as well?” she asked as she turned to the car to our right. Her words were heavily accented, but understandable.