The Dividing Line

by Victoria H. Smith

  Feeling around, I found his wallet deep inside the pocket of his jeans. I was suddenly very envious. Why the heck did guys get such deep freakin’ pockets? I could barely fit anything in mine they were so small. I guess that was what purses were for.

  Watching Drake to make sure he wasn’t aware of what I was doing, I slipped the wallet out delicately. I opened the flap and saw the candid picture he took of me shoving my mouth full of French cuisine at our favorite bistro.

  I frowned. I meant to burn that one. I didn’t have the time to dispose of it now. If he opened his wallet and saw it shoved full of euros and absent his favorite picture of me, he’d know for sure I was in his stuff. One task at a time. I’d have to get the photo another day.

  Quickly but silently, I pushed the small stack of euros I had into the tight pocket behind the credit cards. After making sure I put the wallet into the correct pocket, I placed the jeans back down on the floor and stood slowly. I watched him for a moment as he breathed silently, his strong body moving up and down. I wanted to kiss him goodnight, but fought the urge. It was better if I got out of here without him knowing I came over. If he didn’t think I had the opportunity to give him the money he wouldn’t question me. If he asked why I didn’t come to see him tonight, I’d just tell him Margot and I were beat after the cast party and crashed.

  I couldn’t resist staring at him for just a few more seconds, though. He really was something to look at and so adorable when he slept.

  Smiling at him, I backed away slowly. I’d only made it one step when his hand shot out and slipped around my thigh.

  I froze immediately.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” he asked, still facing the wall opposite me.

  Crap. He knows.

  Chapter Four

  Drake

  Now there was something very peculiar going on here. Lacey was in my room, and judging by the lingering smell of her cherry-vanilla shampoo that alerted me to her presence in the first place, she had been here for quite some time. Yet, despite the fact, she wasn’t in my bed and underneath me. This was a problem that needed to be corrected.

  I intended to fix this problem… right now.

  “What did you think you were doing, Lacey?” I questioned her again. Before she could respond, I ran my hand up her thigh, feeling her smooth skin. She wore a skirt tonight. I liked that.

  “Um,” she paused as my hand pushed up the material. “What do you mean?”

  She shivered after she said that, her skin beading small peaks of goose pimples as I touched her. I liked that even more.

  In fact…

  Shifting my hips, I moved so my hard-on wasn’t directly against the bedding.

  Her legs went wobbly under my touch, but she still didn’t answer my question. She was obviously having a hard time admitting I’d caught her. Perhaps that had something to do with the fact that I was touching her.

  I decided to play with her more.

  Moving my hand, I slipped it between her thighs. She gasped as I slid my finger along her lace panties. She was drenching herself already. God, how I wanted a taste of her. I’d have to deal with that urge later. Now, I was going to make her confess to her wrongdoing.

  “Lacey?” I added another finger, parting her delicate folds through the thin layer of lace.

  “Drake,” she breathed out. “I didn’t… I mean… I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

  “Walk out of this room without first, getting completely naked, and second, hopping into this bed with me.”

  Her legs gridlocked around my hand. “What?”

  Chuckling, I removed my hand from her skirt. I propped myself on my arm and witnessed those beautiful chocolate-colored doe eyes for the first time tonight. I didn’t have it in me to tease her anymore. She was too frickin’ adorable to mess with. “You were about to leave this room because you saw me sleeping, right?”

  Her lips parted slowly. “Uh…”

  I shook my head at her. This wasn’t the first time she tried to pull something like this. With my long hours, she thought she was doing me a favor by letting me sleep. “I told you on the phone it was okay to wake me up. You’re not bothering me, I promise you.” I held out my hand, grabbing hers. “I wanted to see you.”

  Her response to this was a scratch behind her neck and a bite at her lip ring stud, which always made its return after she had a show. Normally, I found this action hot as hell. Tonight, it only confused me. My girlfriend doing this usually meant one of two things. Since I didn’t have her on her back right now moaning my name, I knew the first option was cancelled out. Why was she acting nervous?

  “Lace?” I arched an eyebrow. “You were leaving because you didn’t want to wake me, right?”

  And just like that, her lip dropped from between her teeth and her face flashed into what? Relief?

  “You’re absolutely right,” she stated matter-of-factly. “I definitely didn’t want to wake you.”

  I’d dwell on her unusual behavior if I wasn’t so eager to get her off her feet and into my bed. “Well, good. Now that we have that figured out you can make amends by joining me in here.” I spun a finger over the empty space of bed next to me.

  She laughed. “I can’t. I told Margot I’d be right back. She said, and I quote, ‘Having hot monkey sex with you until I can’t walk straight is unacceptable.’ She wants me to take her touring tomorrow.”

  I tsked. “You know it’s bad to lie to your friends, babe.” I grabbed for her hand.

  She skirted out of my reach with a giggle. “Drake!”

  “You. Naked. In this bed. Now,” I snipped.

  She watched me for a moment with a coy smile, but eventually her fingers went to her blouse.

  I pushed my arms underneath my pillow, laying on it in the opposite direction while I listened to her undress. Don’t get me wrong, I’d take a show any day, but I put her on the spot and didn’t want to embarrass her.

  The room went silent, and the blankets were pulled at my side. Still not looking at her, I slapped my hand down on the bedding so she couldn’t move it. “Are you naked?”

  She chuckled. “Naked enough.”

  This woman toys with me. I turned and choked back a groan. Lacey was in what she wore best. All lace. Her cream-colored bra matched the panties I felt my way around earlier, the swell of her breasts two curvaceous half-moons. The comforter was in a death grip under my hand at this point; imagining the material I fisted was the golden flesh peaking above her bra.

  I released the comforter on autopilot to let her in. “Access granted.”

  Snickering, she moved the bedding, but stopped abruptly as I’d just felt the draft from the removal. With the width of her eyes, I didn’t need to question why she paused. She knew I slept in the buff, but with all our joking around, I guess she’d forgotten. I reached for her to help guide her in.

  She put a knee down and surprised me when she straddled my back. This was definitely a new starting position, but I was game. Tiny fingers went to the back of my neck.

  “I humored you by getting in, but I can’t stay. I want to make it up to you by giving you a massage.”

  I sighed, getting comfortable on the pillow. “I suppose that will do.”

  Any sense of letdown for my consolation prize melted away the minute she dug those glorious fingers into the tight muscles I’d formed on the job. She kneaded me, knuckles embedded so deep and feeling so good a low groan rumbled in my chest.

  “Good. I take it?”

  She had no idea. “Very. You’re too good to me.”

  Laughing, she dug deeper. I couldn’t even make any noise this time. I was in euphoria. After a long moment of her glorious fingers, I found my voice again. I was curious to know her thoughts on the surprise I arranged in her flat.

  “So,” I paused, picking at the edge of my pillow. “Did you, uh, see the gift I left you?”

  Her fingers stopped abruptly, letting a few seconds pass before she started again. “I did.” />
  I couldn’t gauge her reaction by those two words. I turned my neck slightly to see her. “Did you like it?”

  Her hands paused again. Slowly, her lips lifted up in a smile, and she bit her lip like she was trying to contain it. She nodded once. “I loved it. No one has ever done something so sweet for me. Thank you.”

  Grinning in satisfaction, I lay back on the pillow. “I’m glad it made you happy.”

  Eventually, her hands moved again, and I went back into the haze that was summoned by her magical touch.

  “God, you’re so tight tonight, baby,” she said, running her tiny hands over my shoulders. “What did you do?”

  I smirked against the pillow. “You mean besides lift sculptures and handle artifacts that are twice my body weight.”

  I was obviously exaggerating to get her to laugh, but immediately regretted the comment the moment I heard her sigh.

  “You work too hard. Too much. You haven’t had a day off in like two weeks. I don’t like it.”

  Now I was the one doing the sighing. “You know that’s inevitable, Lace.”

  “It doesn’t have to be. I could help—”

  “Lace?” I warned her, definitely not liking where this conversation was going. Most of the time, I loved that Lacey knew everything that was going on in my life. I loved that we were open with each other and were always there for one another. But when it came to money, she knew that topic was never open for discussion. It was just off-limits. No room for debate.

  When my shoulders tensed, she went silent, and I immediately regretted my shortness with her. Her hands continued to move along my back, but I found I couldn’t allow myself to enjoy the pleasure. I decided to change the topic to ease the tension.

  “How do you feel? Did your throat give you any problems tonight?” I asked, referencing the laryngitis that forced her to miss a couple of shows. She had a rough few weeks, and I knew she was concerned about finale night.

  “No, it didn’t. I feel great. I got through the night just fine.”

  Her voice sounded terse, clipped. I pushed again. “I thought so. You sounded amazing.”

  Her hands stopped on my back. “You heard me?”

  “Yeah. Margot put you on speaker so I could hear your opening number. You rocked it tonight, Lace. I’m so proud of you.”

  Silence hung in the room, and she stopped massaging me.

  Turning, I gazed at her over my shoulder. Her honey brown eyes were warmly set on me. Slipping my arm around her waist, I slid her off my back until she was lying beside me. When I pushed my fingers into her lengthy curls, she smiled at me and kissed into my palm.

  “That means so much to me,” she said, her eyes closed as she brushed her nose gently along my hand. “You don’t know how much.”

  Grabbing both of her cheeks, I kissed the top of her hair, fighting myself from burying my nose in the locks. The soft scent captured me like the strongest of drugs. “I wouldn’t miss you for anything. I’m so sorry I couldn’t be there.”

  “It’s okay.” She lifted her head from my hands. “It was the last one. Nothing more to miss, right?”

  She gave a small smile after she said that, but there was no happiness there. Not really. She was sad it was the end; that her lifelong dream of performing in Paris had come to a close. I’d do anything I could to stretch the experience out for her, but the reality was the season was over, and it was time to think about our options. More specifically, time to think about preparing to go home.

  To my surprise, she spoke about the future first.

  “I was thinking about getting a job,” she said.

  I blinked. “A job? You wanna stay?” I knew that she did, but honestly, I didn’t think it was an option. Finding a job here was tough right now, and Paris wasn’t the most affordable city. Her income from her shows could last her a good while, but not long if she couldn’t find work.

  She nodded. “You have a job and we both love it here so much. It just makes sense for us to stay.” She studied my face. “Do you not want to?”

  “It’s not that, Lace. It’s just—” Biting my lip, I held back the fact that the future for my current job was shaky. There was so much hope in her voice that I didn’t want to crush her proposal already. “I guess I just assumed this was it for us. I don’t know. That after you were done we’d head home.”

  Her eyes shifted as she searched mine in silence. “Why would you assume that? Is there a reason you want to go home?”

  Her question surprised me. Why did I assume that we’d be going back? Did I have a reason for why I no longer wanted to be here?

  “Drake?” She touched my cheek, running her fingers into my hair. “Do you wanna go home?”

  I snapped out of my thoughts. Smiling, I kissed her on the nose. “I want what you want.”

  Her expression beamed bright, and when she wrapped her arms around my neck, I held her even closer. The words I spoke to her I believed in wholeheartedly, but I just couldn’t seem to shake the fact that, originally, what she wanted wasn’t the first thing that crossed my mind for our future.

  Chapter Five

  Lacey

  The next couple of days Margot and I spent joined at the hip. Thank God I was able to sneak away from Drake’s grasp early that night. Margot was right. She had us wandering around the city like crazy, and if Drake had his way with me properly, I would have been virtually useless as a tour master.

  We focused on the landmarks and museums first, taking in all the city of love had to offer. I’d been to the sites with Drake many times, but it had been a few months, and it was nice to revisit the historic landmarks and see the fine art pieces with my bestie.

  We charged the cobblestone walks, arms wrapped around each other like Laverne and Shirley. Like giddy schoolgirls, we took all the cheesy photos we could at the most famous sites, like the Eiffel Tower and the Louvre. Margot was supposed to snap shots to show my family back home, but her digital camera seemed to drift to just about every French boy that gave her a little bit of attention. This happened quite often.

  Margot was definitely unique looking with her rainbow-tipped blonde locks and high-waist shorts. In America, she was quite eccentric looking, but the French men seemed to enjoy her. She danced for a young accordion player on the sidewalk, peeking above her white bug-eyed sunglasses with a coy smile and her hand on her hip. She grabbed my arm to join in, but I was always shy about having too much attention thrown my way. I’d gotten better about it since moving here, but it was still hard to think I was something special. I was actually asked for a couple of autographs while we were sightseeing, and one young, bright–eyed girl wanted her picture with the Gwendoline. My face flushing, I obliged her. Afterwards, Margot whispered in my ear, “You really are in the big leagues, honey.” She then squeezed me tight.

  The day before her flight home, we had a light breakfast at a small café, tasting the artisan breads and tasty spreads. After taking a short water taxi, we spent the afternoon on the streets of the Champs-Élysées. Margot got a kick out of the baubles and cute jewelry pieces at the specialty shops along the busy street. I didn’t visit this area often since it was so expensive, but it was great to come and see her face light up at all the fancy merchandise. There was one shop in particular she stopped in front of, her jaw dropping at a sparkling, shoulder bag in the shop window.

  “Oh. My. God,” was all she said. Before I could stop her, she rushed inside.

  Snickering, I followed after her.

  She practically clawed her way up the mannequin to grab it. I watched her as she checked out the bag for a moment, but then my attention drifted across the street. A cute young couple held hands, dangling them as they strode the sidewalk together. They stopped by a tree draped in hanging lights.

  The hour became present to me as I watched the light glow on their cheeks. Dusk had come quicker than I thought, and Margot and I should probably head home soon.

  As I continued to gaze in their direction, warmth coated
my heart when the boy kissed the young woman under the tree. It wasn’t one those ‘get a room’ kisses. It was light, one full of love and affection. The innocence of it reminded me of Drake and myself. We, of course, shared many kisses since coming to Paris. Not many challenged the first one he gave me in the park outside my home, but the one we shared on the Eiffel Tower came pretty close.

  It was dusk then too—nothing but the lights of the Tower shining on the stretch of emerald green grass before it. We surprisingly had a tiny area to ourselves on the Tower that night; no one was around us while we sat on a small bench and watched the city pass us by.

  Drake held me close under his arm, just holding me in silence. Then, out of nowhere, I decided to look his way. He was smiling when I did, his mahogany eyes trained on me. I turned completely toward him, wondering how long he’d been watching me.

  In complete silence, he guided my lips to his, a single finger against my cheek to help me make up the small distance to him. Right before our lips would have connected, he stopped. Confused, I pulled back just a little, seeing the warmth in his eyes.

  “What is it?” I asked him.

  His gaze concentrated, he ran his finger just outside my eye, down my cheek, then across my bottom lip. I closed my eyes, not able to leave them open as he touched me.

  “I wish I could capture this moment forever,” he said, his voice suddenly my entire world. “Freeze how beautiful you are to me right now so I’ll never forget.”

  I opened my eyes, watching his smile.

  “I never want to forget.” And then, he kissed me.

  Not realizing I closed my eyes when I relived the moment, I opened them. The couple I watched before was gone, but my mind was still in rapture from the memories their passion induced. I looked forward to more moments, such as the one on the Eiffel Tower, and now that Drake said he wanted to stay in Paris as much as I did, we could. I warmed inside at the thought.

  “You mean you can’t come down on this just a few euros?”