Lost In France (Firebird Trilogy)

by Kay, Jani

  My mind went into overdrive. “Yes. I want your head between my legs. I want to fuck your face.”

  Alain drew in a sharp breath. “Fuck, that’s sexy as hell. Now, gently sink two fingers into your warm little pussy,” he instructed.

  I moaned, louder this time.

  “Imagine it’s my fingers, fucking you. Faster, Cherie, faster.”

  Could he hear the slurping noises my greedy little pussy was making? I was panting, my chest heaving as I fucked myself with my fingers, listening to Alain’s hissing and cursing at my ear, edging me on.

  “Fuck. I can hear how wet you are. You’re soaked. It’s driving me wild.”

  “Oh Alain, I think I am going to explode.” I let out a gasp as my body started convulsing. “I’m coming,” I moaned, “oh God, it’s so good, I wish you were inside me, baby.”

  “Fuck, I wish I was there,” he rasped. “Sweet Jesus, I’m coming, too—I’m coming for you, Cherie.” Hearing his words intensified my orgasm; it was so hot knowing he was pleasuring himself thousands of miles away. Because of me. Because of what I’ve done to him.

  Fuck, that’s so sexy.

  “Next time I come, I want to be inside you,” he said gruffly.

  “Yes. Next time,” I whispered, contentment washing over me. I stretched out and yawned.

  “You are going to sleep well now. Good night. Dream of me.”

  “Good night.” I was slowly coming down from my high. “Thank you, Alain. You even please me when you are far away. You are so good to me.” I smiled as I remembered his words, “Seems my pleasure really is your pleasure.”

  “Correct. I will be dreaming about you and your sweet little pussy. Of eating you when I see you again.”

  “Alain,” I breathed, “You’re insatiable!”

  He chuckled, low and sexy. “When it comes to you, Cherie, I am. I can never get enough of you.”

  Goddamn, he could make me blush from thousands of miles away.

  “That is so sweet. Sleep tight.”

  I hung up exhausted, pulling the bed covers over me, still naked. I loved what my French lover did for me. Even though we were miles apart, he still managed to satisfy me, and I him.

  I closed my eyes and relaxed, still basking in the afterglow, enjoying the warmth that spread through my body, when the phone rang by my ear. I fumbled sleepily for the phone.

  “Alain, you’re so naughty—” My voice was low and husky. What was I going to do with my sexy Frenchman?

  “It’s Maxwell Grant.” Ice chilled my veins. “I just wanted to hear if you got home safely.”

  “I…I did…thank you,” I stammered like an idiot.

  “I’ll let you go, so you can talk to your boyfriend.” The phone clicked.

  Twice rejected.

  How was I going to face him tomorrow?

  I turned over onto my side, wanting to sleep, but I was haunted by two pairs of blue eyes: one, calm grey-blue waters, the other, tempestuous stormy-blue waters.

  I was drowning. Fast.

  Chapter 41

  The next day in the boardroom, I tried to contribute as much as possible to the discussions. But, my mind kept wandering as I attempted to analyze my muddled emotions. My mind was churning—it was all over the place instead of focusing on work issues. Unease settled in the pit of my stomach. I’d never allowed my emotions to affect my work before. This is bad.

  Just as I thought I found a solution, something else threw everything off it’s axis. Fuck.

  Why the hell is my life always so fucking complicated?

  To top it off, Maxwell was cold as steel. He hardly addressed me or even looked in my direction. Guess I deserve that. Doubt crept into my mind. Maybe it was all in my imagination—maybe there hadn’t been a spark between us last night. Were we just caught in the moment? However fleeting that was... And, what was that strange look in his eyes?

  His booming voice brought me back to the present.

  “Dr. Clarke, do you agree with that strategy?” His steely eyes were boring into me, his lips pursed into a thin line as if he had lost his patience with me. We were back to doctor Clarke, now.

  Kiss my ass.

  I tried to make a coherent argument for my point of view, keeping it as professional as I could, occasionally stumbling over my words under his intense gaze.

  Goddamnit.

  Why did he have this effect on me? Few people ever unnerved me. Yet, Maxwell steely-face Grant had the knack to turn me into a blubbering idiot. I took a deep breath to compose myself and looked him squarely in the eye. It took every grain of my strength to keep cool and calm. Redheads weren’t particularly well known for being biddable.

  I didn’t have the mental capacity for playing games right now. The only way I could answer, was being straight up. “No. I don’t agree at all with your strategy, Mr. Grant. In fact, that’s asking for trouble. It will most certainly fail. The strategy needs to be re-worked.”

  My jaw nearly hit the floor. The man had the nerve to start laughing. I was expecting a fight, and here he was laughing, a full guttural laugh into his belly. I was speechless. Something else that seldom happened to me.

  “Point well made, Dr. Clarke; that’s exactly why I pay you such an exorbitant amount of money.” He continued laughing as if it was the joke of the century.

  I was steaming now—all this time he’d been testing me. Testing to see if I knew what I was doing and if I would make the right decision, even if it meant opposing him.

  “Always fighting me, Dr. Clarke,” he said, with a sparkle in his eyes.

  Screw you.

  The door swung open and his secretary entered, and silently handed him a note. He opened and read it, a frown knitting his brows together.

  “We will break for lunch, now,” he announced, his tone icy, as he turned and left the room. If only I could see what was written on that damn note that changed his mood so drastically.

  A break was really welcome and just what I needed to freshen up and recover my composure. I filed out of the boardroom with my colleagues, rushing off to the loo. And I needed a caffeine fix—urgently.

  I stopped dead in my tracks seconds before colliding into the huge frame of my boss. Hung around his neck was the most exquisite creature I’d ever seen. His hands rested on her hips, holding her thin frame steady.

  Gaping openly, I took in her strawberry-blond hair that fell to her tiny waist and the scrap of a mini skirt she wore, making her legs seem to go on forever. Her hands were tangled in Maxwell’s hair and she was pulling him toward her.

  It was amazing how much information I managed to absorb in only a few seconds. I recognized her from pictures I’d seen in the latest magazines. She was even more beautiful in real life; photographs didn’t do her justice.

  “Aren’t you glad to see me, darling?” she purred. “My assignment finished early and I have time off. We have a whole week to spend together.”

  She kissed him, pressing her small firm breasts against his chest. Maxwell kissed her back. His gaze locked onto mine over her head. I stood there—frozen—glued to the ground, seconds morphing into what felt like decades. My heart sank to my stomach. I forced myself to break contact with his gaze as cold sweat beaded on my skin. If only the ground would swallow me up.

  Why the hell was it bothering me so much to see her hanging off him? I knew he was off limits. Fuck, I wanted him to be off limits. Didn’t I? Then why was I flustered and why was my fucking heart squeezing in my chest, making it hard to breath?

  Mrs. Perfect Grant turned to me. Her luscious lips curved into an arresting smile, showing two perfect rows of ultra-white teeth. She held Maxwell’s tie in her petite hand, establishing her ownership over him in no uncertain terms.

  Skinny bitch.

  “And you are…?” she drawled, looking me up and down, measuring me up. Compared to her beauty, I was the ugly duckling. I cringed as I held out my hand.

  “Dr. Rebecca Clarke, Management Consultant to your husband’s company.�
�� She placed an excessively bejeweled, cold, limp hand in mine. “Excuse me. I was just off to lunch.”

  I dropped her hand like a hot potato, quickly sidestepped Maxwell and pushed the door to the ladies washroom open.

  Two pairs of eyes burned into my back.

  Chapter 42

  Pleased to be back in Paris, I was eager to start the day’s workshop so that I could leave for Alain’s chateau by the end of next week.

  Alain had gone ahead to tend the vineyards, it was nearing harvest time. But, more importantly, he had gone to prepare his father before introducing me. It wasn’t an easy task—apparently the old man was very set in his ways and hated foreigners. Even Australians he had never met. Like me. I wasn’t a fan of intolerant, judgmental people who made up their minds without knowing all the facts.

  Maybe this would be different? Maybe Duke Phillip du Bois would see how happy Alain and I were together and accept me? Maybe, like any father, he would want his son to find happiness with a woman he really cared for? I could only hope. My future with Alain was at stake.

  I was relieved to have alone time. If anyone told me a few weeks ago that I would have a new man in my life virtually overnight, I would have laughed and called them crazy. A small part of me was struggling to come to grips with this new relationship. After years and years of torment with Julian, it felt like this was happening way too fast for me.

  So I did what I always do; I threw myself into the one thing I knew as a constant in my life, my work. Organizing and running the workshops brought much needed routine back into my life. With my emotions all over the place since I’d left home, I needed time to just relax and find myself.

  My mind wandered to my overbearing boss. I hadn’t spoken to him since nearly crashing into him and Skinny Bitch. He was probably making up for lost time with his wife, making love as often as they could. A twinge of something, still unnamed, stirred in my gut every time I thought of them together.

  It was ridiculous—especially since I wasn’t the jealous type. From what I had seen, Natasha Grant was every man’s dream woman. How could he not want to possess a creature as beautiful and perfect as her?

  Suck it up, Rebecca. You always knew he was married to a model.

  My thoughts kept drifting to Mr. and Mrs. Grant and an uneasy feeling settled permanently in my gut at the image of them naked in one another’s arms, making love. Without a doubt, I knew I could never compete with her beauty. I didn’t stand a chance. Why would Maxwell even be interested in me when he was married to that goddess?

  Everything I had experienced when I was with him, had to be a figment of my overactive imagination. Besides, I’d decided from the start I didn’t want his affections...

  For fuck sake, why am I even thinking of them?

  Shaking my head, my thoughts returned to work.

  Focus, Rebecca. Focus.

  *****

  Finally the end of the week had arrived. I’d managed to focus on work and get another series of workshops out of the way. I had packed my bags, ready to go to the chateau.

  “I miss you,” Alain had said every time he called, which was every night.

  Glancing at my watch, I was impatient for Gaston to arrive. I was curious to see the chateau. But more than that, I was burning for Alain. And I knew he couldn’t wait for me to get there either.

  I smiled as I recalled his words from our last conversation. “Cherie, get enough sleep. Because, you won’t get any on our first night together. I’m having my wicked way with you all night long. At first, you’ll beg me to stop and then you’ll beg me to carry on making love to you.”

  All night long. Begging him to make love to me. I couldn’t wait.

  An hour later, Gaston picked me up in the limo to drive me to the chateau. I stretched out my legs in the back and settled down for a comfortable drive. En route, we were picking Alain up in the town closest to the Estate before heading to the chateau together. I was relieved I didn’t have to arrive there by myself. Alain had planned it so that he would just have finished his business meeting when we arrived to pick him up.

  I was excited at the prospect of seeing him again, yet doubt had crept into my mind. Being away from him for nearly two weeks, so early in the relationship, had been strange. And I was so confused at the moment; I wasn’t sure I’d know how to respond anyway.

  Alain hadn’t really told me how he felt about me. He was clearly ‘in lust’ with me, but was there more? I’d hoped he was just a little in love with me too. He was intense, jealous even. Certainly possessive. And it was great being missed, but I missed my cat back home too.

  But what if he’d changed his mind about us? What if he’d met someone else, someone his father would approve of? Or, what if he simply wasn’t attracted to me anymore? I bit into my lower lip. A knot twisted in my stomach.

  I need more than just being fucked by Alain. I never want to be any man’s fuck buddy only.

  Gaston informed me that we still had close to another two hours to go before reaching our destination. I felt a headache coming on, so I leaned back and closed my eyes while massaging my temples. Totally exhausted, I finally gave in to the drowsiness and fell asleep in the back of the limo.

  Woken from a deep sleep by warm breath in my neck, Alain kissed my neck before hungrily possessing my lips. “Mon Dieu. I missed you. I want you…now,” he groaned against my mouth, plucking at my shirt.

  Well I needn’t have worried if Alain still wanted me.

  Still in a daze, I glanced toward Gaston, noticing that the smoked glass screen between us was closed. I couldn’t believe that Gaston hadn’t woken me before we picked Alain up. I would have liked to freshen up first.

  “Gaston rang and told me you were sleeping. My poor Cherie, I told him he should close the window and let you sleep. I would wake you myself in the most delightful way,” he grinned, pleased with his ingenuity.

  He’d managed to undo the top buttons of my shirt and found my breast. He squeezed my flesh as if making sure I was real while his mouth trailed my jaw. Taking my hand, he placed it on his throbbing erection, wordlessly showing me his need.

  Alain pulled me onto his lap so that I was straddling him. His hand stroked my mound, pushing the fabric of my panty down, feeling his way to my hot and liquid sex, his fingers caressing me. A roar filled my ears as my blood rushed through my veins.

  God, I want him all over me.

  I undid his belt and pulled down the zipper of his pants, reaching down to free his erection. He was hot and heavy in my palm as I stroked his length lovingly.

  “So hot for me.” I teased him with the words he so often used to tease me. Bending forward, I took him in my mouth, licking and teasing with my tongue.

  “Stop. I’m ready to explode. I want my cock in you. Now,” he growled.

  Rising up, I guided his thick shaft to my opening and rubbed the head against my wetness.

  “For the love of God,” he moaned, his hands in my hair, flexing his hips upwards as if he couldn’t wait to penetrate me. Feeling his cock throb against me, I slid on top of him, taking his full length inside me.

  “Merde. Rebecca.” His hips rolled toward me thrusting as hard as he could.

  Witnessing his undoing—so carnal and raw—was my undoing, I started pulsating around him, trying to suppress my moans so that Gaston didn’t hear me, digging my nails into Alain’s back to stop me from crying out at the sheer intensity of my orgasm.

  “Alain.” I breathed heavily, sucking at oxygen.

  Coming down from my climax, I rested my head against his chest. He kissed my hair, holding me tightly.

  “Cherie, I never want you to leave me again. I beg you. It is not possible for me to function when you are away. I’m only half a man without you.”

  God, how could I have doubted that he still wanted me?

  I kissed his neck. “I won’t leave again if you don’t want me to.”

  “I don’t want you to. Stay with me. Always.”

  The
re is was again. Always. If only I could.

  “Yes. Always.” I smiled against his skin. Elated.

  We sat holding one another for a while, savoring the closeness of each other in comfortable silence.

  Gaston drove through gigantic gates which were emblazoned with impressive gold letters—D and B. We had arrived. Not wanting to look a mess when we arrived at the chateau, I slid off Alain’s lap and tried to fix myself, running my fingers through my hair and smoothing my clothes.

  Alain smiled at my distress. “The chateau is enormous, nobody will see you. Only the servants and they are French, so they are very discreet. Anyway, your just-fucked hair is sexy as hell. If you fix it, I’ll just have to mess it up again soon…very soon.”

  “Really? Promise?” I laughed as I playfully messed his hair.

  But in spite of my false bravado, inside I was trembling. What did the chateau hold for me? I stared with unseeing eyes at the lush greenery as we made our way closer to the imposing building in the distance.

  Five minutes later, we stopped in front of the magnificent chateau.

  Gaston opened the door, acting as if nothing unusual had happened in the back of the limo. I avoided his eyes anyway, sure he knew exactly what was going on back there.