Road to Destiny (Scorpio Stinger MC Book 5)

by Jani Kay

  Even though I was curious as hell to find out what he meant by his comment, I squeezed my thighs together to calm the throbbing and just enjoyed the moment. I knew Alain would make his move when I least expected it. He liked spoiling me and also surprising me. I decided to just go with it.

  We soaked up the fresh air, chatting leisurely and drinking far too many cups of coffee. I couldn’t resist the buttery fresh croissants which I piled high with mixed berry conserve.

  As Alain emptied his last cup, I jumped up to clear the dishes. It was the least I could do.

  “No. Stay. The housekeeper will be in soon,” he said, grabbing my arm as I rose to my feet. His hand disappeared beneath the opening of my dressing gown, running up and down my thigh. He grabbed my ass and pulled me roughly toward him so I was standing between his legs.

  “You never did thank me properly for those earrings.”

  “Last night and this morning didn’t count?” I asked, raising a brow.

  “They were very expensive,” he said, with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I need to be repaid in installments.”

  “Oh, really?” I teased as my fingers traced his jawline.

  “So far, you’ve paid the deposit.” He laughed. “You still owe me the rest.” His cupped both breasts, lightly stroking them through the satin fabric. It was such a turn on; my nipples were erect in no time, dampness collecting between my legs. His hand snaked under my dressing gown again and found the waistband of my panties. Gazing into my eyes, he wrapped his fingers around the elastic and yanked the flimsy fabric right off my body.

  Stunned, I drew in a sharp breath. He was claiming those installments in no uncertain terms.

  Pulling me to him, I straddled his lap, the satiny fabric spread open and over his legs. I leaned back as his thumb found my now familiar sweet spot, and he stroked my clit, softly and gently, all the while staring into my eyes. So intense; I wanted to close my eyes, but his gaze held mine, both of us mesmerized.

  My heart beat erratically in my chest, I was sure he could hear how loud it was. Beads of perspiration covered Alain’s brow. It wasn’t from the summer heat.

  “Look at me. I want to see your eyes when you come.”

  God, that’s hot; I’ve never climaxed with open eyes before.

  Liquid pooled between my legs, my body responded to this man so willingly, it was scary.

  “The scent of your arousal mixed with the ocean breeze is driving my cock crazy.” He lifted my ass with both hands as I wordlessly guided his erection into me. I shuddered as he slid into me with ease, I was that wet for him. He groaned as he filled me to the hilt. “Sweet Lord, you’re so tight,” he mumbled, his eyes wide, a fine mist covering his whole body.

  “And you are such a big boy,” I breathed, pleased that he liked what he found.

  The sound of voices drifted up from the beach. I remembered that people could actually see onto the balcony, but Alain was beyond caring. So, it seemed, was I. Luckily I had my back to the ocean.

  My ears buzzed loudly as my heart hammered against my ribs. We were fucking where anyone could see and hear us. It turned me on beyond imagination. Just the idea that we could be discovered at any moment added another layer to our erotic encounter, turning the heat up a notch. I’d never been this adventurous before, but I loved the adrenaline rush and could get addicted.

  Not that I really needed other stimulants with my insatiable Frenchman. He knew how to press my buttons and get me wet so easily.

  “You want payment in installments?” My voice was husky and just a little shaky. I was out of my comfort zone, yet loving every second of it.

  I licked my lips, slowly, sensuously, just to see how far I could drive him before he went over the edge. I knew it was a trigger for Alain. Was it because he imagined my lips around his cock?

  He stared at my mouth. “Fuck, what are you doing to me?” he ground out, his thumb roughly caressing my lips. Sucking his thumb into my mouth, his eyes widened as I bit into his skin. The innuendo was not lost on him. “Suck harder,” he moaned, as his hips rolled. I obliged.

  Payment with interest.

  Moving my body up and down his thick shaft, to the rhythm of the crashing waves, I gave myself over to the pleasure tingling throughout my body. Alain’s grip on my ass tightened, his hands burning into my skin, his fingers digging deep into my flesh as he accelerated the rhythm, my ass slamming into his balls with every downward thrust.

  “Fuck, so deep.” His voice was guttural now, his French aristocracy forgotten. Alain was simply reduced to primal man. His eyes were alight, the color intensified with his rising passion, nearly matching the cobalt blue of the ocean.

  Holding his face, my eyes open wide, I was sucked into the whirlpool of those eyes.

  “I surrender. Come with me.” His breathing quickened, and as he exploded deep inside me my core pulsed, milking his cock of every drop it had to offer.

  Happy and content, I leaned in for a cuddle as his arms wrapped around me.

  I drew in a breath when I heard a voice from inside the apartment.

  “It’s the housekeeper.” Alain laughed as I cursed.

  Caught in the act.

  Chapter 31

  Today we were going for a drive along the coast to St Tropez where Alain had a business meeting.

  “The meeting won’t be long. Then we can have lunch on the beach,” he promised.

  Wanting to look pretty for Alain, especially when he introduced me to his clients, I made some effort in choosing my outfit, trying to emulate the chic French women I’d seen in Paris.

  Alain was dressed casually, wearing chinos with a blue open-neck shirt that accentuated his eyes. He looked relaxed yet sophisticated; it came naturally to him.

  “Très chic,” he said, while pulling me closer and sniffing my hair, “and you smell so good, too.”

  The housekeeper gave us a knowing smile. I’d been avoiding her since she walked in on us yesterday.

  Like a true gentleman, Alain opened the door of the Porsche. The top had been taken down.

  “It’s such a beautiful day; we should enjoy the wind in our hair.” I scooted in, not wanting to risk another slap on the bum. He grinned wickedly, shaking his head as he rounded the car to the driver’s side.

  We drove along the windy coastal road, the beauty of the French Riviera taking my breath away. Villas were built into the sides of the hills and every time we rounded another corner, I was enthralled by the sheer splendor of the ocean and the scenery.

  At times, Alain accelerated, winding around tight bends. My heart pounded in my ears as the wind swept through my hair. I’d never felt more alive than in this moment, frightened, and excited at the same time.

  We stopped for a drink in St Raphael and sat on the balcony of a hotel, overlooking the shimmering water. Baskets of flowers hung from the pergola, their heady scent filling the air. I relaxed, enjoying the calming effect the view had on me.

  When we finally arrived in St Tropez, Alain helped me out of the car. My hair was windblown and my cheeks flushed. I tried to straighten my hair, but knew it was useless, so I just gave up.

  Alain reached out and smoothed the wayward hair. “Love it. Reminds me of your just-fucked look.” The glint in his eyes had me squirming and pressing my legs together. Damn, he could turn me on with words alone.

  Holding my hand, he led me into the restaurant. Alain introduced me to the two men and one woman already waiting at a table. All three pairs of eyes were scrutinizing me, a strange expression of amusement on their faces.

  What, do I have toilet paper dangling from my shoe, or worse, my dress?

  “Ah, the lady in the pictures,” said the very handsome younger man as he held out a hand. “You were on television this morning.”

  What on earth is he talking about?

  It dawned on me—the photographers at the festival.

  We made the tabloids and the news?

  “Your picture is splashed all over the morning pap
er.” The woman, Adrienne, had an icy tone to her voice. She wrinkled her nose as if something smelled off.

  What the hell?

  My hand flew to my mouth. Thankfully Maxwell Grant wasn’t in Europe to see the pictures of his new employee splashed on the news.

  Why exactly I was thinking of him of all people now, I couldn’t fathom. I swallowed hard and tried to regain my composure. From the corner of my eye I caught Alain’s expression; his brow curved into a frown and his lips pursed into a thin line. A vein was ticking in his neck.

  Panic gripped my insides. Did I miss something?

  What the hell was wrong?

  He looked...worried. Was he ashamed of being photographed with me? I glanced sideways as he ran his fingers through his hair, his jaw clenched.

  He sat me down and called the waiter over, asking for a copy of today’s paper.

  “Mon Dieu,” he spat, as he opened the newspaper. Splashed all over the front page—in color—was a picture of him kissing my cheek, his hand intimately on my ass, both of us looking very happy.

  In spite of my poor French, I understood the heading: “Is this the future Duchess du Bois?”

  What the hell?

  I held my breath as I snuck a glance at Alain from under my lashes. His olive skin had paled visibly. Was a picture with me that bad?

  The article went on about how I was a foreigner, suggesting that the most eligible bachelor in France was smitten with an outsider. The smirk on Alain’s face sent a pang through my heart. A warm flush rose from my chest, I wished the earth would swallow me whole.

  Adrienne had a sneer on her face. She was enjoying my discomfort far too much.

  “I’m so sorry, Alain,” I blurted, as I pushed to my feet, virtually running through the patio doors toward the ocean. In an instant, everything had changed, I felt like an unwanted outsider.

  Hearing Alain calling my name twisted my heart. Why did it hurt so much? It hit me like a slap—I was falling for this man. Crap. And, he clearly was embarrassed by me. Could I feel any more of a fool?

  How did this perfect day turn so horrible so quickly?

  Grabbing me by the arm, he stopped me in my tracks. “Rebecca. Wait...” he puffed, as he turned me toward him. I turned my head away, not wanting him to see the tears streaming down my cheeks.

  He cupped my chin and lifted my face to his.

  “Cherie,” he choked, as he wiped my cheeks with his thumbs. Holding my face between his palms so I couldn’t look away, he leaned in to kiss me. I didn’t kiss him back.

  Why is he prolonging my pain, hurting me even more?

  “Please, don’t cry.”

  Was he kissing me to stop me from crying and embarrassing him further?

  “I...I am so sorry I embarrass you,” I whispered.

  Alain looked at me as if I was crazy.

  “How can you think that?” he asked, taken aback. “I love being with you. Every moment we are together is special to me.” His eyes were wide with panic now, his face grim.

  “Then, why are you so shocked by the pictures?” I asked, trying to make sense of his reaction.

  He pulled me toward him and held me tightly for the longest time, my face buried in his chest, stroking my hair softly, as one would a child’s when trying to calm them and reassure them. Slowly my tears subsided at his gentle touch. But, I was still worried he didn’t want me anymore. I bit into my lip, closing my eyes to just savor the moment, intoxicated by his closeness.

  Raising my face up to his, he searched my eyes.

  “I owe you an explanation.” The frown on his brow worried me. “It’s my father. I wanted to introduce you to him personally.”

  “I don’t understand?” What did his father have to do with a picture of us in the paper?

  Alain sighed, casting his eyes down. “He expects me to marry a French woman of aristocratic blood.”

  I froze.

  Holy hell.

  “I didn’t want him to find out about us in the tabloids. He’s a stubborn old man, very set in traditional ways.”

  “You’re not embarrassed, then?”

  He laughed. “Never. I want to show you off to the whole world as mine.”

  Sadness flickered over his face, his lips twisted into a half smile. “But, my father will see it differently. He will see it as treason that you are not French.” He held me so tightly I could hardly breathe.

  “I want him to meet you personally, at the chateau. Maybe, I can change his mind. I want you.” His voice faltered.

  “You want me?” I needed to confirm what I’d just heard.

  “I do. From the first moment I leaned over to help you with your earphones, and looked into your sad eyes.” He kissed my temple, his breath hot on my skin.

  “But first, I want to tear that idiot apart,” he growled.

  “Who?”

  What was he is talking about? It was all so confusing.

  “The fool who let you go. The idiot who caused the pain in your eyes.”

  Julian.

  I swallowed hard. I hadn’t thought of him in days.

  “It was my lucky day, because now you are mine.” His voice deepened with desire, triumph in his eyes. Leaning down, he kissed me hard, till I was breathless.

  I broke the kiss as I became aware of people clapping. Everyone from the restaurant had been watching us all this time. Alain had a sheepish grin on his handsome face; I was blushing from head to toe. Everyone was clapping, except Ms. Uptight. Her arms were folded across her chest, her eyes narrowed and a sneer on her face.

  “Quite a show,” said the elder man scornfully.

  The younger one was pumping Alain’s hand. “Does that mean she is off limits?” he asked Alain, nodding toward me, laughing.

  “If you don’t want to fight me at dawn,” said Alain, cocking a brow to warn the younger man.

  What is it with men talking in code?

  “Please excuse me,” I said, as I took off to the rest room. This was all so intense. My head was splitting with a headache. I ran the tap and splashed water on my face. When I looked up, I didn’t like what I saw in the mirror—Ms. Uptight was standing behind me, her arms folded, tapping one foot.

  “He won’t marry you, you know,” she hissed, “he will be disowned. And, he loves his heritage too much for that to ever happen.”

  In spite of my heart virtually jumping out of my throat, I tried to sound as cool and calm as possible. “That’s for Alain to decide.” There was no way in hell I’d let this aggressive bitch unnerve me.

  “No, you didn’t understand. It’s not possible for you to be with Alain—because it’s Alain’s father who decides.” Pleasure burned in her eyes. “Alain’s father knows I’m the one for him. The old man doesn’t like foreigners. And Papa is signing all these deals to seal our future marriage.”

  Alain told me earlier that we would be meeting a very wealthy father and his two offspring—a son and daughter—over lunch to discuss some future contracts. I guessed they weren’t expecting me to tag along. My head was spinning now the pieces of the puzzle were falling together. Was this woman planning on marrying my French lover? Was Alain aware of this? I narrowed my eyes as I studied her. She was pretty, and although she had faint frown lines on her forehead, her face barely moved. Botox?

  “Mind your own damn business,” I blurted. I only just met the bitch and here she was telling me what to do.

  “You little fool. It is my business. One last fling before he marries me. Papa is very angry with Alain this morning.” She scrutinized her nails for moment. “But, I understand men. He has to get this out of his system,” she said, her eyes narrowing. “If I were you, I’d pack my bags and get the hell out of here.”

  But you aren’t me, sweetheart.

  I didn’t give up that easily. I’d fight for my man as long as I believed we had a future together. Alain wanted to introduce me to his father. That was a big step, enough for me to know he was serious about wanting to be with me.

&nbs
p; Although my hands were trembling, I applied my lipstick as casually as possible before making my way to the door. Still not giving up, she hissed, “Save yourself further embarrassment. Get out now. The old man will never accept you. Alain is mine.”

  There was something in her knowing tone when she spoke of Alain’s father that unsettled me. What if she was right? What if the old man rejected me? What would Alain choose to do? Clearly there was more to meeting Alain’s father than I originally thought. My knees were weak, I felt as if I’d run a marathon, yet I managed to get back to the table without crumbling.

  Alain rose to his feet, his eyes searching mine, concern on his face.

  “The plans have changed,” he said, holding his hand out to me, “we’re having lunch somewhere else.” He nodded at the two men and steered me toward the door.

  Adrienne had followed me out and now she placed herself in our path, her arms folded across her chest, pouting. “No Alain, you can’t leave.” She turned to her father. “Papa, please...” she pleaded. Her father didn’t react; he just pulled up his nose as if dismissing us. But Adrienne wasn’t giving up without causing a fuss. She was not letting Alain get away easily.

  Stunned, I watched as she threw her arms around Alain’s neck and kissed him.

  My God, doesn’t this woman have any shame?

  Alain loosened her arms. “I am sorry, Adrienne, we must leave now.” His voice was cold as he literally lifted her by the arms, and put her aside so we could pass.

  Chapter 32

  Back in the car, he turned to me. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t expect this.” His eyes were hard to read. Was it anger and frustration I saw there?

  “I should’ve warned you,” he rubbed his chin, “but I thought once they saw how good we are together, they would stop chasing me to marry Adrienne. Fuck them. I don’t care about their contract. I only want you.”

  He wants only me? Thank god. I would have died if he had chosen her.

  “I want you too.” My breath hitched. His hand caressed my neck, pulling me closer to him.