If Not For You

by Jennifer Rose

  “Cool your shit, I gots me a hottie, I don’t need yours.” I said laughing, wondering exactly were that hottie was.

  The crowd waiting to board was much larger than I had anticipated, it seemed the city of love was a real draw. Standing on tip toe I tried to see over them but with my height disadvantage, there wasn’t a hope in hell.

  “I don’t see Gage anywhere and the bus is going to leave soon. I better go look for him.”

  “Then you’ll both be missing, best stay put,” John said, taking me by the hand to keep me near.

  Just as I was about to protest Gage appeared, fighting his way over to stand with us. I could tell by the dark look in his eyes, something was up. I watched as he exchanged pleasantries with the boys. The lack of dimples and that bright white gleam when he smiled told me he was holding onto something that was sure to rock the boat. Our eyes met, he took a deep breath and then placed his forehead to mine. “Later,” he whispered.

  He didn’t need to say more, I could wait. The very last thing I wanted was more bad news, more to dread, more to drag me down. Fuck that, I was going to Paris. Fisting his shirt front, I pulled him into a slow smoldering kiss and when our lips parted he smiled and I licked my lips to taste him again before turning and climbing the steps onto the bus.

  “What was that all about?” John asked Gage.

  Shaking his head with a shrug he replied, “Don’t give a fuck, as long as it happens again.”

  The three amigos, I tittered to myself watching them from the bus window, laughing together while slapping Gage on the shoulder like he was some kind of a hero and had just won a merciless battle. I was glad they had pulled him from his funk and those dimples had reappeared when he sat down beside me.

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

  Caressing the back of my hand along his jaw line I whispered into his ear, “You don’t do sorry.” And he chuckled.

  ***

  The George V lobby stood unrivaled against all others I had ever stood in. In a single word it was un-fucking-believable! The opulence and grandeur exuded in every detail, from the gigantic crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling to the marble inlay on the floors. I looked down at the floor seeing the refection of myself and giggled noting I was wearing my red panties, that’s how highly polished it was.

  We were greeted at the front desk by a rather snooty-looking young man dressed to the nines in a tailored suit. He smiled as Gage and Philippe stepped forward.

  "Bienvenue à la George cinq, parlez-vous français?"

  “Oui, nous parlons français,” Gage gestured between himself and Philippe. “Mais pour le bénéfice de nos compagnons qui ne le font pas,” he gestured to John and I. “Nous préférons l'anglais s'il vous plaît.”

  “As you wish, how can I help you today?” The young man asked with a clearly British accent.

  John turned to me, we wide-eyed each other and burst into laughter. The three turned to look at us like the joke was over their heads, causing us to laugh more.

  “How sexy is your man when he’s talking in French?” John poked.

  Poking back as Philippe handed off his luggage to the steward with a, “Je vous remercie, je porterai ce sac moi-même.”

  “As sexy as that,” I said and we tittered like school girls.

  “The timing couldn’t have been better,” John roared.

  “What’s gotten into you two?” Philippe asked, taking John’s hand.

  “Let’s get to our rooms, we’ll change and meet back here,” Gage suggested and we followed behind the bellboy to the glass elevator.

  The bellboy punched the button and stepped back before speaking. “Je vais vous montrer vos chambres.” He bowed.

  "Je vous remercie, pourriez vous veiller à ce que nous avons beaucoup de serviettes?” Philippe requested and gestured us inside.

  “Oui, monsieur, tout de suite,” he snapped, speeding off with our trolley of luggage.

  Grinning at the pair as they strode into the elevator I said, “I don’t have a clue what the hell you two are saying, but it’s sexy as fuck!”

  “Uh huh, I second that, honey,” John agreed hanging on for a high five, our palms slapping together.

  Our suites were next door to each other, we took turns perusing each. John and Philippe’s room was all creamy neutrals and yellows, with a huge bed, sitting area and an extravagant bathroom. Ours was winter white, with royal blue and gold accents. It was like something you’d see in a palace. I had been in my fair share of swanky mansions and estate homes in my life, but this room was elegance personified.

  “Check out this bathroom, sweetheart,” Gage called, as I pulled back the drape to see what the view held.

  “Coming.”

  My jaw fell open and if I didn’t know better, I would have sworn a wet patch was forming on the floor from the drool dribbling off my chin. The bedroom was elegant but the bathroom was sumptuously lavish. I was scared to touch anything in fear of falling in love and never being able to use another restroom without adverse consequences.

  An inset soaker tub surrounded with crystal jars and bottles of colorful liquids sat in the center of the room. With gold taps and a crystal bowl filled with an assortment of personal size soaps and multi-color bath sponges, it sat there screaming my name. The toilet and bidet were self-contained in a private water closet, an honest to God water closet.

  “I’ve died and gone to heaven, sweetheart.” Gage laughed from the other room.

  Turning to see him standing with an elaborate remote control in hand, pushing buttons and spinning around to see what he had managed to bring to life, we were like kids in a candy store.

  “What time is it? We have to meet the boys at ten.”

  “Not quite eight thirty, we have plenty of time,” Gage said, and the room went dark as shades came down over the windows simultaneously.

  Wiggling his brows, he put down the controller and sauntered over. “Wanna play, baby?”

  “Wanna share some bubbles?”

  Drawing my gaze to his watch he raised a single brow. “Little too early for champagne, don’t you think?”

  “A bubble bath you dope!” I blurted and squealed as he swooped in and scooped me off my feet, carried me over and threw me onto the bed.

  Landing with barely a bounce, my body sunk into the feather filled duvet. “Oh yeah,” I moaned and yanked Gage until he toppled beside me.

  “Oh, yeah,” he mimicked my words and closed his eyes.

  Rolling off the side of the bed, Gage caught my wrist. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “To draw us a bath, silly,” I stated playfully slapping his hand away.

  “You’ll pay for that later woman!” he snarled.

  I giggled a quick, “I hope so.”

  As the water rained into the bath I sniffed from each bottle and tipped small amounts of my favorites into the swirling water. The froth built quickly to the top of the tub until it threatened to flow over the edge, I turned off the taps, climbed in and called to Gage.

  Stripping from his clothes and tossing them aside, I studied his hard defined body as he sunk beneath the bubbles and rearranged my legs over his to face each other.

  Gage tucked a loose strand of my hair behind my ear and smiled. “It’s going to be a wonderful day.”

  Eyeing him suspiciously I asked, “What do you have planned, Mr. Carter?”

  “I want to take you to see the Mona Lisa, have lunch on a River cruise and climb the Eiffel Tower.”

  “You’re hopeful squeezing all that into one day.”

  “All that by five,” he said.

  “Why? What happens at five?”

  “We have an appointment,” he announced.

  A gave him a sideways glance. “An appointment in Paris, France? What kind of appointment?”

  His wet index finger lifted from the water and touched gently to my mouth. “A special appointment and that’s all you need to know.”

  “Gage.”

  Lean
ing forward his hands clamped onto my ass cheeks and pulled me onto his lap. Burrowing his face between my breasts, he growled as his tongue made a path along my collar bone up to my chin. His breath on my wet skin scorching like an inferno and his supple lips soft against my ear had me entranced before he uttered a word.

  “Vous enflammer moi seule, mon amour,” he whispered.

  “I don’t know what you said but I like it.”

  “Je reçois dur quand je pense à des choses que je veux faire pour vous.”

  Tightening his grasp, he lifted me onto his rock hard cock and I assisted its entrance with a soft moan.

  “Je pourrais encule comme ça jusqu'à la fin des temps.” His thrusts became more rushed and aggressive as water splashed over the edge onto the marble floor.

  “What did you say?” I asked on a quick breath.

  “I could fuck you like this until the end of time.”

  Throwing my head back I laughed, “I think I like it better when I know what you’re saying.”

  “I’m going to cum…just so you know,” he growled out.

  I giggled and held on. “Come for me then.”

  “Not before you, baby.”

  “Don’t wait for me,” I whispered, as I grabbed onto the edge of the tub with one hand and clasped his chin with the other.

  “Look at me, I want to see your eyes when you cum,” I ordered, in an insistent tone, so out of character.

  At first he looked unsure, and then he grinned and bit into his bottom lip holding his stare as he buried his cock deep and his seed burst, his body convulsing.

  A serene glaze covered his eyes. It was as if he left his body for those few seconds, floating in a state of ecstasy, before he blinked back to me. Then he blessed me with that dimpled smile.

  “It’s always fucking incredible with you,” he said, touching his lips to mine.

  “Say it in French?” I asked, shyly.

  “C'est toujours putain incroyable avec vous.”

  “Sexy,” I laughed, reaching for a sponge and soap.

  Each dawning a sponge and tiny bar of soap, we took our time washing each other and then made our way over to the shower to rinse.

  This day was indeed going to be wonderful.

  ***

  “Here we are.” Gage swept out his hand in the direction of the glass enclosed riverboat.

  I was far too engrossed in the vision of the Eiffel Tower just off in the distance to hear what he and John were saying. You couldn’t wipe the smile off my face. I was going to be standing at the top of that tower in a few short hours, a dream of a lifetime. All I wanted today was to share the view of Paris with Gage and be kissed high above the most romantic city in the world.

  “Hello, Tandy? Where are you girl?” Philippe asked, snapping his fingers in my face, pulling me from my reveries. “Come on, we’ll miss the boat.”

  “From one boat to another, I don’t get it but okay.” I shrugged then took Philippe’s hand and climbed aboard.

  “Tandy honey, you’ll understand once we get moving and lunch is served. The best food and the best view await,” John assured me.

  John handed each of us a blue plastic card. “These are your passes, they will get us into anything you want to see for the next two days, so don’t lose them. Anything, anywhere with this symbol gets you immediate access.”

  “You didn’t have to do this John, but thanks,” Gage said, with a hand shake.

  “It’s the least I could do, I owe you two so much. Besides, I want Tandy to have the time of her life. I don’t want you to miss a thing.” John smiled and squeezed my hand.

  John was acting strange, he seemed to be paying me a lot more attention than usual. Perhaps he was still suffering with guilt or it was just the Paris thing, love in the air and all that shit. We sat at a table for four near the front where we would get the best view all around. John and Philippe insisted Gage and I face forward so I could see what was coming, they had each done this cruise before, both quite familiar with the highlights the city offered.

  “Don’t try to argue with him. I live here. Seen it all more often than not,” Philippe confessed, when I opened my mouth to protest. “And John owns a loft in Lion, so that makes you the virgins this tour is for you.”

  Gage and I looked at each other and laughed, the virginal inside joke was a playful secret we were enjoying.

  Gage stretched his arm across the back of my chair. I could feel him searching for a lock of hair to play with. A tight tug assured me he had.

  “Were you born here?” I asked Philippe.

  “No, I was born in Germany.”

  The table went silent for a moment. “With the name Duprey, I’m not feeling the whole German thing,” Gage laughed.

  “Long story short,” Philippe took a sip of water then continued, “my parents are world travelers, too much money, spoiled rich lifestyle, yada, yada, yada. I was born during a stop in Frankfort. My Mom is Italian, my Dad is French. They’re in China now so I don’t see them often. Paris is my home since there really isn’t a family one.”

  “And the legacy lives on,” John said, entwining his fingers with Philippe’s giving him an endearing smile. “Sailing the seven seas like his parents, my Mr. World Traveler.”

  The boat started to drift off from the bank and music played as servers began taking orders. We left the choosing to Philippe, he knew the cuisine well, the chef being a friend. He ordered Shallot tart with onion marmalade to start, a la bordelaise beef with anise flavored carrots for the main and an assortment of cheeses and iced yoghurt soufflé with mango for dessert.

  Our main was served and our wine glasses topped just as a tour guide announced, that to our right, we could see the museum of sewers of Paris and we all laughed at the thought.

  By the time dessert had been served an hour had passed and we had gotten a glimpse of some of the more popular tourist attractions. Among the most popular; Orsay Museum, Louvre Museum, Notre Dame Cathedral, we shared great conversation and a few laughs with the boys.

  Once lunch was over and the boat tour had ended, we decided to part company. The boys were heading off to Philippe’s home nearby, he gave us the address should we feel lacking for something to do, like that would happen. Gage and I were off to the Louvre to visit with Mona Lisa.

  The Louvre Museum was huge, so much larger than depicted in photos and the many movies I had seen it in. Old and regal, like a palace, it was bustling with people. Tour groups galore swarmed the grounds outside where a huge glass pyramid sat as an utter contrast to the aged building. Walking through the entrance it didn’t get any quieter, the interior buzzed like a hive of bees with all the chatter echoing in the great halls. I had always thought of these places being quiet like a library where people sat and contemplated the masterpieces, lost in thought and time, I couldn’t have been more wrong.

  Deciding it much easier we joined the Masterpiece tour, 1 ½ hours to see all the touristy paintings famous the world over. But first Gage dragged me away to see the Venus de Milo.

  “A woman with no arms,” I laughed, “I never understood the attraction.”

  He shook his head. “No she’s so much more, the goddess of love and beauty, born from the sea. Sensual, sexy, realistic.”

  “She doesn’t look very happy.”

  “A timeless beauty,” he said, leaning closer he whispered, “like you.”

  I could feel a flush heat my cheeks and shouldered him away. He graced me with that great dimpled smile, took me by the hand and directed me on.

  There were many statues, some looking like they would crumble if you sneezed and some strong and solid, downright sexy, these masters knew what sensual meant. Mostly nudes, I wondered when fashion came into play and when modesty came to light and people started covering up. Crazy thoughts, but I was surrounded by nudity after all.

  “I want to show you one more before the tour starts,” he said, directing me through an archway into another of many huge rooms.

  “Th
is is Cupid and Phyche.”

  “Wow, it’s beautiful.”

  “I don’t recall exactly how the story goes, but as I remember, Phyche is Cupid’s bride but she’s never seen him so she has to spy on him when he sleeps. He tells her ‘Love cannot live without trust’ and then takes off and Venus forces her to do superhuman things. Phyche falls into a deep sleep and in the end Cupid’s kiss is the only thing that can wake her.”

  “Romantic. You have a romantic soul, Gage Carter.”

  “Reading material when there’s nothing else and I like art,” he said, trying hard to rough up that shining image I was seeing, a more polished refinement he had hidden just under the surface.

  “Of course, that has to be it,” I teased.

  “On with the tour.” Gage pressed, trying to conceal his embarrassment.

  It was amazing standing in real life, right here, right now gazing at works of art I had only seen in books. The wedding Feast of Cana, The Coronation of Napoleon, Odalisque, they were all so beautiful. Larger than life, I was in awe.

  When I stood before the Mona Lisa, I was lost in time. Far smaller a piece than I had conjured up in my mind, for some reason I presumed it would be huge, a mammoth monument of Leonardo Da Vinci’s’ work. A shame that time had treated her so cruelly, as I heard it had once been bright and colorful with rich yellows and blues that were now dulled.

  Time has a way of being cruel to all things, I thought.

  “What are you thinking?” Gage asked, seeing something in my stare.

  I drew in a breath and sighed, “I’m just happy to be here. This is a dream come true for me.”

  “I wasn’t aware that Mona Lisa held such strong feelings for you.”

  “Not just Mona Lisa,” I held out my hands, “all of this, everything and every single moment. You. Paris. John and Philippe, it all means more than you’ll ever know.”

  I choked back a tear. “The first day I stood on board that ship, I had it all planned out. I was going to see the world on my own terms, me, myself and I. Then came you.”

  Gage turned me into his arms. “You make it sound like not such a good thing.”