by Vega, W. H.
I cry out with each deep thrust and I feel my body respond to Luc, and I begin to feel a build up deep in my belly. The feeling spreads, and then I’m crying out for Luc, shaking beneath him as I drop to the bed, unable to support my own weight.
Luc pulls me back up and continues to enter me from behind. I hear him grunt deeply, clutch at my hips and let out a carnal moan, slamming into me hard and jerking deep within me. I can feel him pulsing as he comes, groaning softly as he relishes in his own climax.
He collapses on top of me, and we both fall onto the bed, a tangle of sweaty limbs. He rolls off of me, pulling me towards him, and I throw my arm across his chest and nestle against his arm.
Luc’s hand slides down to my backside, and he gently traces circles on my hip.
“Do you have somewhere to be tonight?” he asks softly.
“No.”
“Good.”
I’m not sure how long we lay like that, but I’m pretty certain that I fall asleep for a while. My stomach grumbles and Luc sits up on his elbows and looks at me.
“I’ve been a terrible host.” he smirks, “Are you hungry?”
I hadn’t really thought about eating, but now that he’s mentioned it, I realize that I’m famished.
I nod. “I actually am really hungry.” I admit, “Though you’ve been anything but a terrible host.”
He smiles. “Come on. Let’s find something to eat.”
He pulls me out of bed, but I yank my hand from his.
“I need to put something on.” I say, embarrassed.
Luc looks me up and down in a way that I can only describe as eye-fucking. “You look perfectly fine to me,” he drawls.
Even though he makes me feel sexy, I still can’t bring myself to go traipsing around his apartment completely naked. I quickly grab his black shirt and throw it over me. It just covers my lower half, and the arms are a little long, so I push them up.
“Now you’re just toying with me,” he declares, pulling me to him and giving me a long kiss. His fingers play along the hem of the shirt, slightly grazing my sex and upper thighs.
“Oh.” I moan, closing my eyes.
“Food first.” he teases, releasing me and pulling me towards his kitchen. He grabs his jeans from the floor and pulls them on once we’re in the kitchen.
Knowing there’s nothing under those jeans is very sexy.
“So, I don’t have much,” he prefaces, “but I think we’ll survive.”
“I’m sure whatever you have is fine.”
He takes out two bottles of sparkling water, a bottle of red wine and two wine glasses. He rummages in his pantry and reappears with a baguette. He pulls butter out of the fridge, along with two oranges, an apple and some figs.
“Will this do?”
“It’s perfect.”
I settle down at his small kitchen table and start to peel an orange as he opens the bottle of wine.
“Wine?” he asks, holding up a glass.
“Please.”
He pours and places the wine next to me, pours himself a glass, and then begins slicing the bread.
“You aren’t one of those girls who doesn’t eat bread, are you?”
I laugh. “Hardly. And if you’d been paying attention, you would've noticed that I’ve had plenty of bread whenever we’ve been out.”
“I’ve been too busy looking at you to bother taking inventory at what you’ve been eating.” He places the bread down on a plate between us. “However, I have noticed that you’re a bit of a light weight.”
I giggle nervously. “What can I say? I’m a good girl. I was never a big drinker.”
“Oh, I can tell that you’re a good girl, but you’re a saucy thing in the bedroom.” He stops himself, and gives me a sheepish grin. “Sorry. That was kind of a creepy thing to say, wasn’t it?”
I shake my head. “No, it’s fine. I don’t know what comes over me when I’m with you.” I admit.
He smiles to himself and then we stop talking as we fill our bellies. I drink the entire glass of wine, and Luc offers to refill it but I shake my head. One glass is probably plenty for tonight.
“What time is it?” I ask, suddenly realizing that I’ve lost all track of time, though I suppose I don’t really care at this point.
“It’s just after ten. Do you need to go?”
Cleo had plans with Philippe and some of his friends tonight, and when she'd invited me with them, I'd made up an excuse about how I was going to check out some music. It wasn’t exactly a lie, since Luc and I did often make music together. I assume Cleo isn’t coming home tonight, but even if she does sleep at our apartment, I made sure to close the door to my room before I left. She wouldn’t realize I was missing until the morning. I’ll worry about making up an explanation if it comes to that.
“No, I don’t need to go, but I can leave if you have something to do…” I trail off. I don’t want to overstay my welcome.
“If you don’t have to go, I was thinking you could stay for the night.” He raises his eyebrows in a gesture that can only be construed as devious.
My insides clench.
“You haven’t told Cleo about us, have you?” he asks, suddenly harsh.
“Uh—n-n-no.” I stutter, feeling whiplash from the change in his mood and behavior.
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, but you can’t tell your friends about us.”
“I haven’t said anything.” Yet, I want to add. How can I keep this from Cleo forever?
Luc must have seen a hint of hesitation in my voice and he looks at me sternly. “I mean it, Madison. This could cost both of us if it gets out. You can’t say anything to anyone.”
“All right.” I whisper. I'll have to figure this out later. I can’t argue with him, at least not now.
Luc pours himself a second glass of wine and stands up, holding his hand out for me to join him. I stand and he pulls me towards him. He buries his nose in my hair, running his hand along my neck.
“Have you ever showered with a man?” The way he asks sounds downright naughty.
I shake my head.
“I think it’s time you’ve had the experience.”
He leads me to the bathroom, and without a word, turns on the shower. Keeping his eyes trained on me, he sits his wine down and pulls off his pants. He’s hard and ready – impossible not to notice.
Still staring intensely at me, he pulls me towards him and takes his shirt off me. He steps under the hot water and motions for me to join him.
I follow his lead as the water washes over me.
Luc wraps me in his arms, bringing his mouth to mine and I sigh as I give into him.
I have the feeling that I won’t be doing much sleeping tonight.
Chapter Nine
Madison
I crack my eyes open and sunlight filters across the bed.
Not my bed.
For a split second, I forget where I am and then I remember that I am in Luc’s apartment, in Luc’s bed.
“Good morning, sleepy head.” Luc murmurs, kissing my forehead.
“Good morning.” I yawn sleepily, “What time is it?”
“Half past ten.”
Well, that explains why I’m still tired. We didn’t go to bed until nearly five this morning.
“Want me to make some coffee?” he asks, running a hand through his hair. Somehow he manages to look even sexier than he did last night. Maybe it’s disheveled hair, or his unshaven stubble. Either way, he’s mouthwatering.
“Sure, but then I’m afraid I have to go.” I do need to get back to my apartment, and while I’m not an expert on these types of relationships, I certainly know enough about overstaying a welcome.
Luc looks sad for just a moment, and then nods. Then, surprising me, he dives under the covers, his mouth grazing my inner thigh.
“Oh!” I cry out, surprised.
“Or we could just stay in bed all day…” comes his muffled voice from under the covers.
I laugh ne
rvously. The sensitive place between my thighs is throbbing due to our activities last night. “I don’t think I can handle any more of that today.” I admit, “Last night was quite the workout.”
He reappears, his eyes dark and serious.
“Are you sore?”
“Yes.”
“Hmmm. I am sorry to hear that, although I like the idea that you’ll be reminded of me all day.”
I gasp. “You’re bad!”
He shrugs, getting out of bed in all his glory. He saunters out of the room, not bothering to don a stitch of clothing.
I am still not that brave, so I throw on my shirt from the night before and slip into the bathroom. I clean myself up the best that I can and get dressed.
I walk into the kitchen and Luc looks me over. “Leaving so soon?”
“Cleo is going to wonder what happened to me if I'm not back before she gets in and I'd rather avoid the interrogation.”
Since my phone has stayed silent, I’m assuming she hasn’t realized that I had a sleepover of my own last night.
We drink our coffee quietly, and Luc’s mood seems slightly morose. I can’t quite place my finger on it.
“Will I see you again soon?” I don’t want to sound desperate, but I’m falling hard for Luc already.
“I’ll see you in class on Tuesday.” he says, matter-of-factly.
“Right. Class.”
“Would you like to see me outside of class?”
“Yes.”
“Let’s talk Tuesday then.”
I have to agree, because it is Sunday, and I don’t want to seem desperate. Tuesday is only two days away. Surely, I can make it that long.
I finish my coffee and stand up. “I should get going.” I hesitate. “Thank you for an amazing night.”
Luc stands and pulls me to him. “Thank you.” He kisses me and then releases me. “Now get out of here, before I tear your clothes off again.”
I giggle and grab my purse, then impulsively give him another kiss. He smiles a real, genuine smile. Then I leave his apartment before I change my mind and stay.
Chapter Ten
Luc
I watch Madison leave, and then I can’t help but move to the window and watch her walk out of the building. She looks beautiful walking candidly out onto the street and I watch her until she disappears around the corner.
I sigh and sit back down, feeling the melancholy creep over me, prompting me to take my medicine. I wash one of my pills down with the remnants of my coffee. It’s been nearly five months since my last depressive episode, and two years since I’ve had a manic episode…I've always been more prone to the depressions than the highs.
I can already feel myself needing Madison and that worries me. I don’t want to rely on her too much, because I know that will scare her and that could definitely trigger a depressive episode. I need to be very careful with Madison for a number of reasons.
I walk back into the bedroom and see the rumpled sheets where Madison and I spent most of the night. I walk to them, trailing my hands along the material, remembering the way Madison felt as I slid inside her.
Fuck. I need to get out of here or else I’m going to spend the day festering in my apartment, daydreaming of her. And that will only make my need for her grow. I go into the bathroom to shower, and twenty minutes later, I hit the streets.
It’s not as chilly as it has been recently and I walk for miles and miles all over the city, not paying attention to the time. I should make some friends while I’m here, or at least touch base with some old acquaintances I believe may still live here.
But that takes time and energy, and I don’t feel like exhausting either.
As if the universe has heard my thoughts, I suddenly hear a female voice behind me.
“Jean-Luc?”
It takes me a split second before I turn around, so rarely am I called by my full name. In fact, not many people know that Jean-Luc is my full name.
“Yes?”
The woman behind me is clearly French; I can tell from the way she’s dressed and the way she seems so effortlessly comfortable on the streets. She’s about my age, and very beautiful. She looks vaguely familiar, but I can’t place her.
“You don’t recognize me, do you?”
I study her again. “I’m so sorry. You look familiar but I can’t place your face.”
She laughs. “That is fine. It has been a very long time.”
I wait for her to fill me in, and she smiles again, pushing her dark red hair out of her pale face. “I’m Juliette. My father, Francois, and your mother were friends.”
Yes! Juliette! I hadn’t seen her in at least ten years; not since the last time that I had come to France with my mother. Juliette’s father had been like a brother to my mom, and he always helped take care of her in some way whenever we came to visit. I always believed he’d secretly been in love with my mother, but that was neither here nor there.
“Yes!” I exclaim, “I remember now. Please forgive my terrible memory!”
She laughs brightly. “No worries! I’m a bit of an idiot savant when it comes to faces and names.”
“Would you like to get a cappuccino and catch-up?” I ask politely, motioning to a small shop across the street. I don’t want to be rude and it would be nice to catch up with Juliette. After all, I had just been considering getting in touch with people from my past.
“Why, yes! That would be lovely!”
She follows me across the street, her stylish boots clicking across the pavement. We duck inside, and the aroma of baking bread and chocolate greets us.
“Mmmm.” she says inhaling, “I never tire of all the little shops in Paris.”
“You don’t live in the city?”
“Oh no. I live an hour outside the city in Montargis, but I’m usually in town every few weeks or so.”
I nod. We order at the counter and I pay for our things. She thanks me, and we find a table tucked in the back of the cafe.
“So, how have you been? If memory serves me right, it’s been at least ten years since I saw you last.” I say.
She nods, sipping her cappuccino. “Yes. It’s been about that long.” She’s quiet for a moment. “That was the last time we saw your mother.”
I nod. My mother died the year following our last visit to France. I wonder if she had somehow known she wasn’t going to be around much longer. She had been adamant about us going to France to see all of her friends and family that year—even though we had no money to do so. It was as if she had planned her farewell trip and I'd missed all the signs.
“I got married.” I glance at her finger, but there’s no ring. She laughs. “And divorced. I have two beautiful girls though. Sophia and Monique. They’re eight and six. I own a jewelry boutique, which is why I come into the city a lot. Many of my artisans and dealers are located here.” She pauses. “I know a bit about you.” she admits, “I’ve loosely followed your career.”
Strangely, I’m flattered that this woman from my past has paid attention to what I’ve done over the years.
“Yes, well, I’ve had some success.” I don’t want to come off too cocky. “Aside from composing music and some recording, I’m now an adjunct member of New York University. That’s actually what brings me to Paris. I’m an advisor for a group of students studying abroad this semester, and teaching a couple of classes at the NYU Paris campus.”
She smiles. “And personally?”
I suppose I can’t avoid it. “Well, like you I was married…and divorced.”
She smiles sadly. “Children?”
I shake my head. “I wouldn’t exactly call my ex-wife the maternal type.”
“Such a shame. My girls were the best things that came out of my marriage.”
I don’t have a response so I don’t say anything. I don’t admit that regardless of Vera's ice-covered heart, I can’t picture myself as a father, or that I run the risk of passing down my nasty mental illness. Somehow, these tidbits don’t seem fit for this
little chitchat.
“So, if you’re only here with your students,” Juliette begins, coyly running her hand through her hair, “you must not have much of a social life. How long are you in Paris?”
I shift awkwardly. Juliette is undeniably attractive, but I think back to Madison and how much it would hurt her if she found me here now.
“I have a few friends here.” I lie, not wanting to admit that my social activities have been filled with twenty-one year olds. “I’m here until mid-December.”
“Ah!” she cries happily, clapping her hands together. “Then we must get together! And perhaps you can come visit me in Montargis when my girls are with their father. It’s a beautiful town.”
“Yes, perhaps.”
“I’ll actually be in the city again on Friday. I have a meeting with a new designer. Should we grab lunch then?”
I don’t want to be rude and Juliette is friendly enough, though from the way she’s trailing her lacquered fingernails along her collarbone and playing with her hair, I’m certain she’s flirting with me. It’s not as if Madison and I are exclusive.
“Yes, I’d love to do lunch. I teach in the morning on Friday, so that would work out well.”
“Perfect!” She pulls a business card out of her purse, and turns it over to the back. She scrawls the name of a restaurant and address on it. “Here’s my card so you have my number, and on the back is an amazing little place where we can meet. Say one o’clock?”
“One o’clock,” I confirm.
“Wonderful!” She rises. “I’m sorry to hurry out, but I need to pick up my girls.”
“Of course.” I stand and embrace her, giving her the requisite kiss on each cheek.
“See you Friday!” she calls, as she waves and exits the shop.
I’m not quite sure what I’ve gotten myself into, but I watch her walk down the street before I leave the shop.
It’s late in the afternoon now, and I make my way back to my apartment, thinking about Juliette and her girls. I try to imagine what it would have been like if Vera and I had children.