by Jani Kay
I’d wanted him to ravish me. Fuck. What the fuck is wrong with me?
Chapter 19
In the shower, I allowed the scalding water to rinse over me. I was so confused. First Julian, and now Maxwell. Why was it that married men were attracted to me?
I didn’t want that kind of relationship. I didn’t want another woman’s man. Sharing my man with another woman was not an option I’d ever consider.
All I ever wanted was a man that loved me and only me. I wanted to be the center of his universe, his everything. I wanted him to wake up next to me every morning and to come home to me every night.
I wanted him to make love to me in all kinds of ways, sometimes with tenderness and sometimes hard, but always with passion. I wanted him to be the keeper of my heart, to possess me—body and soul.
My best friend. My lover. My hero.
In return, I’d love and cherish him with all my heart; bear his children. I’d be loyal and faithful. A good wife. He’d be the axis around which my world revolved.
Is that asking too much?
Maybe for me it just wasn’t meant to be.
Was I destined to be ‘the other woman’—the one who understood when his wife didn’t? The one who laughed at his jokes, pampered him, who restored his confidence, and stroked his ego. The one he fucked long and hard, but never slept a night with. The one who was showered with expensive gifts to placate her because she could never have what she really wanted—the man himself.
No. That’s not for me. My man must hold me at night when we sleep after making passionate love and kiss me lovingly when we wake in the morning.
I wanted the fairy tale, I wanted forever...
Goddammit. Why is it so fucking hard?
Maybe Alain would be the one to finally give me all that I desired. Maybe he wanted me that way, too. My heart quickened at the thought.
At the conclusion of the conference, I had six free days before I had to start the workshops. Six glorious days to explore Paris, and, hopefully, the possibilities with Alain.
But, at this moment my soul was bruised, my spirit crushed. Alain was right; Maxwell Grant did want to fuck me. I shuddered at the thought. Shuddered at how close I came to giving in to the carnal desire he had stirred in me. I wasn’t sure what to do.
Confused, yes.
Should I declare the contract void?
I was sure Maxwell wouldn’t stop me. Hell, most likely he’d want me to leave since I had so blatantly refused him. A powerful man like him, rejected by a woman like me. His ego was probably crushed when he left to go home. Back to his beautiful wife.
Alain would never know how right he was, and would go crazy if he knew what had happened tonight. It served no purpose to stoke his jealousy. After all, I wanted to see where this relationship with Alain went.
As far as I knew, Alain was free to love me back. Unencumbered. That was what I wanted. A man that was only mine.
Chapter 20
When Alain invited me to breakfast the next morning. I decided to shake off what had happened, to put it behind me, and to make the most of the next few days. After all, Maxwell was back in New York by now. Far away. I wouldn’t need to see or speak to him for at least a week. By that time, we both would have simmered down.
Hopefully he got the message loud and clear and never attempted to touch me again; in which case, I am a reasonable person, and was willing to forgive and forget if he behaved appropriately in future. He seemed a proud and arrogant man, I was sure he wouldn’t risk rejection by the same woman twice. Besides, there were plenty of other women he could shower his attention on and fuck if he liked.
Just. Leave. Me. The. Fuck. Alone.
Having had a surprisingly good sleep, I was eager to get out there and explore. Who better with than my naughty French tour guide? I giggled as I remembered our last outing, how hot and daring he had been, even in public places. I was ready for more of that.
Bring it on.
Alain smiled warmly when I entered the breakfast room. “Ah, ma cherie, you bring sunshine to my day.” My poetic French man. I loved it. I playfully batted my lashes at him and acted coy. I hoped that a little flirting would get the day off on the right foot, and help me forget the previous night.
I was starving; I’d gone to bed without dinner last night. Alain smiled when he saw my full English breakfast, topped with a croissant and coffee.
“You’re so different to all the other women I’ve known. I can’t wait to cook for you at my chateau. I know you are going to love my food and truly appreciate it.” He winked at me, his naughty grin filled with promise.
I was really looking forward to the next six days, getting to know Alain better. In more ways than just his cooking skills. I felt my blood warm and surge through my body at the thought of his touch, and I longed for Alain to finally make love to me. He promised it would be special. What did he have in mind?
“Cherie,” he said, a serious tone to his voice. “I have business in the south of France. Will you come to Nice with me? I promise it won’t take up all my time, I can show you around the Cote d’ Azure and I’ll have you back in time for your seminar next week.” He held his breath while he waited for my answer.
“Alain, I would love that. When do you want to leave?”
He has no freaking idea how badly I want to get out of this hotel, away from anything that could remind me of my bastard of a boss.
“After breakfast,” he said, relief on his handsome face.
“I’ll be ready.” I clapped my hands with uncontained glee.
He threw back his head and laughed. I liked that I could have this effect on him, making him laugh out loud and look so happy.
Chapter 21
“We’re not driving there?” I asked, as the limo stopped at the airport. I was disappointed; the limo was a wonderful way to travel, having Alain all to myself in the back of the limo where he was naughty as sin.
He laughed. “No we’re going by chartered plane. It's the quickest way to get there.”
I didn’t particularly like the idea of flying in small planes, it made me nervous. I was even more surprised when I learned that Alain was the co-pilot. “My second love,” he grinned, “after the vines.” He looked like a little boy, carefree and happy.
He told me that if he didn’t have the vineyard, he would definitely have become a pilot. Because the vineyard was remote and he needed to do business all over Europe, it was quicker to fly. Since he was a boy, Alain had been fascinated with planes. I could tell how much he loved it by the glow in his eyes. It was so sexy; I couldn’t help but respond positively.
What the hell. You only live once. It’ll be fun.
I willingly placed my life in his expert hands.
We flew over mountains. It was beautiful. He pointed to a mountain peak and as far as my eyes could see; it was covered in pure white snow.
“I will bring you there one day.” Alain promised when he noticed my excitement. “In winter—so we can make love in front of the fireplace.” He grinned, his eyes filled with lust.
“It’s called Mont Blanc,” my sexy tour guide continued. A pang went straight through my heart. Mont Blanc, like the pen Maxwell had presented me with to sign my contract. The same pen he brought to my room and cock-blocked Alain with. Was it intentional on Maxwell’s part, pulling such a classic maneuver? Did he know what we were up to and deliberately use the pen as an excuse to get into my hotel room?
I sighed, but fortunately, Alain was busy with the instrument panel and didn’t notice.
Shortly after, we landed in Nice. I was relieved. Alain helped me out of my seat, pulling me close to him and planting a passionate kiss on my lips. I’d missed that. Warm liquid fire spread through my veins.
“Your chariot awaits, mademoiselle,” he joked, as he held open the door to a canary-yellow Porsche. Luckily I packed a small bag for this getaway and left the bulk of my luggage in Paris. The boot was scarcely big enough for our two bags.
“My third love,” Alain said, with a twinkle in his eye.
“Wow, I have a lot of competition,” I teased. “What’s a girl to do to get to first place?”
He answered my question by pulling me into his arms, cupping my behind with both hands and pushing me into him. His ground his hips against me and I felt his erection through his snug fitting jeans. He groaned as he whispered huskily, “I think you know the answer to that.”
My arms slid around his neck, I kissed him sweetly, my hands in his glorious thick black hair.
Alain is so easy to please. Unlike Maxwell fucking Grant.
I blinked a few times. Why the hell was I thinking of him? I pushed the memory of Maxwell’s eyes, shocked and hurt, out of my mind and concentrated on the man holding me now.
Pushing myself into Alain, against his throbbing erection, was the best way to chase thoughts of Maxwell out of my head.
“Stop, ma cherie...or I won’t be able to drive this baby...”
Grinning, I let go. Just as I bent down to get into the car, Alain gave me a quick hard smack on the ass.
What is it with French men and smacking bums?
It was a short drive from the airport to an enchanting villa overlooking the ocean.
“It’s our family holiday villa. We’ll be staying here for the next six days,” Alain said nonchalantly.
Our own little love nest.
It was as if he read my mind.
“It will only be you and me,” he said, his voice hot and sexy.
Oh. Yes. Please.
He lifted our small suitcases from the trunk and made his way to the front door. Once inside, I gasped at the view. I understood the name Cote d’ Azure now; the ocean stretched out before us, gleaming like sapphires in the afternoon sun.
Standing in the cozy kitchen with one hundred eighty degree views over the cobalt ocean, my stomach rumbled.
Alain grinned at me. “I’m really hungry now,” he said, not taking his eyes off me.
“I’m pretty starving myself, even in spite of my huge breakfast.” I laughed and rubbed my stomach.
“No...no, not for food, ma Cherie...for you.” He closed the distance between us with two steps. The intensity in his eyes burned into me. I stepped into his arms and he pulled me to him, kissing me hotly, first my mouth, then along my jaw line and throat. Tilting my head, he had better access to my neck as his fingers dug into my behind and pushed me into his erection. This time, we were alone and I had no doubt he wouldn’t stop until he got what he wanted.
He lifted me up onto the kitchen counter. I opened my legs to let him stand between them. He unbuttoned my blouse, from the top, slowly, sensuously, one button at a time, as he stared into my eyes. His eyes were dark pools of want and lust, I was sure mine mirrored his.
Unconsciously, I licked my lips in anticipation. He shot me a warning glance, his one eyebrow raised. I remembered the last time I licked my lips and giggled as I slowly, deliberately licked my lips again, more sensuously this time, fully aware of the effect I had on him. He leaned forward and bit softly into my lower lip. Then, with his lips curved at the corners into a slow sexy smile, he continued with the task at hand, once again concentrating on the buttons.
Finally, he pushed my blouse off my shoulders to reveal my full and swollen breasts, barely constrained by the creamy satin bra. He groaned as he leaned down and kissed the soft rise of each breast. His lips were warm on my flesh. It felt divine.
He freed my breasts from the cups and drew a nipple into his mouth. His five o’clock shadow scraped my tender skin as his kisses became more and more intense. As I gasped for air, my fingers twisted tightly in his hair.
Both his hands were pulling at my nipples now, teasing them as if they were putty in his hands. His mouth trailed south, down my stomach as he kissed and sucked my skin. He licked my navel as he pushed me backwards so I was resting on my elbows on the counter. I watched, eyes wide open, as he reached down and removed my silky panty, my inside aching for his mouth on me.
Exposed to his eyes, naked under my skirt with my legs spread wide open for him, I waited. Wanted. Trembled. My sex pulsed wildly. He hadn’t even touched me there yet. I felt my juices flow. I was so wet—so ready.
I threw my head back and let out a soft moan as his mouth trailed up my thighs. My legs quivered as his tongue lapped my clit, languorously, driving me wild with desire. His hands stroked my inner thighs, pushing my legs further apart so that I lay on the kitchen bench, splayed wide open, nothing to hide, baring all. As he sucked and licked, I arched my back, wanting more, thrusting my hips forward and offering myself up to him.
“You taste so sweet,” he murmured. It was so sensual, I was close to the edge.
“Sit up. Watch,” he commanded, his face glistening as he came up for air before his dark head disappeared between my legs again. Slowly he sank two fingers into me, thrusting, touching all the right spots till I wanted to scream.
“Let go,” he coaxed, “come for me.” Hearing his words drove me over the edge. My back arched and I came hard, pulsating around his fingers, panting. He continued licking and sucking, rhythmically, driving orgasmic wave after wave through my body. The pleasure was exquisite. I didn’t want it to stop.
His tongue plunged into my swollen depths. My whole body shuddered and I was pulsating again.
A second orgasm? No less intense, every muscle in my body clenched in ecstasy as I gave in to this unexpected pleasure.
My Frenchman sure knew a few things about pleasing a woman.
Alain didn’t hold back, he gave all he had, drinking me in as if it satisfied his own thirst and gave him immense pleasure to please me. To be taken so overtly by a man was erotic on every possible level.
“What about you?” My voice was shaky, my eyelids heavy, my chest still heaving. He was probably hard as hell, ready to explode.
A crooked smile and mischievous glint was my reply, along with his typical French poetic way of speaking. “I can wait. When I finally take you, when our bodies join as one, I must know that your thoughts are only of me. No one else.”
He’d seen me crying on the plane.
My breath hitched. I stared at him, my eyes widening.
“I will know when you are ready. Then I will claim you, covering every inch of your beautiful body with mine, filling you with me.”
I looked away. I didn’t want to wait. I wanted him to take me now, to exorcise Julian from my mind and soul forever.
“Sometimes I see sadness in your eyes. There can be no other man fucking you but me. I will replace everyone who has ever come before me. I will teach you to love me. When you are ready, you will be all mine. I am a patient man, because the prize is worth it.”
I closed my eyes.
Oh God. Somehow he knows about my feelings for Julian.
Lightening his tone, he helped me down from the counter. “It’s time to feed you, no? You must be starving.” He laughed as I smoothed my skirt down, trying to recover my dignity. “Looking for this?” He held the tiny silk panties out to me. My cheeks warmed as I grabbed them, averting my eyes.
He cupped my chin and lifted my face to his. Very gently he planted a kiss on my forehead, then the tip of my nose and finally my lips. “Go freshen up. We have many days together. I will prepare lunch now.”
Standing on tiptoes, I planted a kiss on his cheek. “Thanks, Alain,” I whispered. As I turned and disappeared to the bathroom, he lifted my skirt and smacked my ass playfully.
When I re-emerged, the delicious aroma of bread toasting filled the air. Alain was standing in the kitchen, slicing tomatoes on the exact same spot where only twenty minutes ago my body was being pleasured. He looked up and gave me his take-no-prisoner smile, his hair falling over his forehead in that way that was uniquely Alain.
My god, what could be sexier than a man cooking lunch for me after pleasuring me?
His eyes were glistening as he held a chair for me. In less than twenty minutes, he had managed to conjure up a
delicious salmon and mushroom omelet with fresh toast, even setting the table for two with roses from the garden in a small vase. He poured two glasses of chilled white wine and sat down opposite me.
I really wanted to return the favor soon.
“To serendipity.” He raised his glass. “To meeting the girl of my dreams on a plane.” I felt warmth creep up my cheeks.
I raised my glass to his.
Girl of his dreams—me.
Serendipity? I thanked my lucky stars for seating me next to this dream of a man. Actually, the person I really had to thank for this stroke of good fortune was none other than my new boss. Unfortunately he didn’t see the providence as I did.
Chapter 22 - Alain
I found myself thinking of Rebecca too often—even during business meetings—craving her closeness, for more reasons than the obvious. I had a sickening feeling that Maxwell Grant had been trying to get a grip on Rebecca, some kind of leverage that he could use to his advantage in whatever fucking game he was playing. I knew his type. He’d fuck anything in a skirt and not blink an eye when he went home to his wife. Salaud.
But I had outsmarted the fucker. Urgent business matters in the south of France had been the perfect getaway. By stealing Rebecca from Paris, showing her the beauty of the rest of France, I was hoping she would fall in love with my country and want to stay. Perhaps fall in love with me?
In spite of being a passionate lover, I’d always separated work and sex. I didn’t let women infiltrate my mind, especially at work. It was futile in a cutthroat business world. But somehow, Rebecca had not only done that, she’d crawled under my skin. The more time I spent with her, the more I wanted her by my side. Was this love?
I’d never taken a woman on previous business trips; it was simply too distracting. Besides, there were always plenty of eager and willing women wherever I went. It made it easy for a man to satisfy his urges, no strings attached.