Charming You (Thirsty Hearts Book 1)

by Kris Jayne

  "Can you believe that when they first put up the tower, everyone hated it? They thought it was an eyesore," Micky said.

  "Give it enough time, and people can grow accustomed to anything, can't we?" Nick asked.

  Micky thought about his question. Anything? She didn't think so.

  "Beauty," she said. "You can discover beauty where you didn't expect it, maybe. But there has to be beauty there to be found."

  Nick squeezed her closer to him. Warmth emanated off him, keeping her cozy in his arms. The cool mist grew heavy until a light rain began to fall. Micky didn't mind. She stared, smiling at the tower in the distance.

  "Let's cross the river and see it from up close," Nick suggested.

  The rain picked up. Micky pulled her scarf over her head, re-wrapping it around her neck. Nick grabbed her hand, and they dashed until they stood directly underneath it. Micky looked up. Her back pressed against Nick's chest and tiny drops of rain fell on her face, but she loved it. Then, at ten o'clock, the show started.

  Patterns of light flashed around them. Micky heard the gasps of tourists taking pictures, but the noise of the crowd faded out. Nick seized on her craning her neck backward and dropped a kiss on her forehead. Micky twisted around to face him and took his face between her hands.

  His unshaven cheeks grated softly against her fingertips. The diamonds of light flickered in his green eyes. She traced the outline of his lips with her index finger in an invitation for his kiss. Nick answered her by brushing his mouth against hers, then taking her bottom lip between his teeth. The nip sent swirls of pleasure to her core. The dancing light popped around them like fireworks when their tongues met. Micky snaked her arms inside his coat and around his waist. The play of muscles in his low back shifted under her hands. She slipped them lower and cupped the hard fullness of his rear. His arousal sprang to life against her belly.

  Micky lost her breath and pulled away panting. "Let's go back to the hotel."

  "I'll get us a taxi. Walking will take way too long." His wide smile offset the sensual focus in his eyes.

  Even the cab ride seemed to take forever. Every bounce and turn of the car threw their bodies together. Each point of contact heightened their anticipation. Once at the hotel, they raced to the elevator, hand in hand.

  Finally, she followed Nick into her room and closed the door behind her. Micky almost couldn't think of what to do next. She wanted to tear off his clothes, to tear off her own, and to touch him everywhere all at once with her hands, her mouth, and every part of her body. The sensation of want overwhelmed her. "I owe you a big thank you."

  "You do," Nick agreed, dropping his overcoat on a chair and peeled off his sweater and shirt in one swoop. He walked toward her, unbuckling his pants. He stepped out of them and yanked them up to remove his wallet and a foil packet. Micky's mouth went dry. He'd taken two items off her to-do list. Now she needed to work on losing her own clothes.

  "How do you want me to thank you?" Micky began to strip. Off went her coat and wrap dress. She stood there in her bra, panties, and knee-high, heeled boots. She bent over to unzip the boots and pull them off. Nick stopped her with a gruff request.

  "First," he said. "Leave the boots on."

  Micky obeyed, removing her bra and sliding her lace boyshorts down over the length of black leather. She kept her eyes on him as he stood with his thumbs hooked in the waistband of his boxer briefs and continued his answer to her with halting breath. "Talk to me."

  Having sex was easy for Micky when she wanted it. Talking about it? Her skin flushed hot and pink all over at the thought. Why say what you want when you could show it? But that's not what Nick wanted, and she needed to give him exactly what he wanted.

  She opened her lips to speak, and nothing came out. What was she supposed to say? She bought herself some time by closing the distance between them and pushing him against the bed. Nick gave no resistance when she toppled him onto his back. He placed the condom on his chest and lay back. Power surged through her body at the sight of him stretched out below her. For once, she towered over him. Micky locked eyes with him. Her cheeks felt as hot as the rest of her. She could tell him the truth.

  "I want to ride you," she said in a strength of voice that surprised her. "But you have to lose the briefs and put that on."

  Micky bent over and plucked the condom off his chest. Her breasts swayed as she grabbed the waist of his underwear and yanked them down. Nick lifted his hips off the bed to help her, which had the effect of presenting his freed erection to her like an offering. She tore the foil packet open and slid the thin sheath of protection over his cock. Then, Micky climbed onto the bed and straddled him, bracing herself with her hands propped on the heels of her boots. She arched her back to save contact for when she was ready.

  "When it comes to show and tell, I'd much rather show than tell." Then, she leaned forward and bit him gently on the neck, but kept her hips lifted. "I'd much rather sink all the way down, and let you slide into me." Then, Micky thrust her hips forward just enough to have his thick erection graze the slickness between her legs. "But you want to talk. So, we'll talk." Micky sat up straight, hovering over him. "Remember the first night we met?"

  "Yes," Nick exhaled.

  "You were so buttoned up in that dark suit and expensive Hermes tie. I wanted to grab you by that tie, and do this." Micky descended on him and tasted his lips. His mouth opened and their tongues wrapped together, stroking deeply into one another's mouths. Micky pulled back and sucked on his bottom lip until he moaned, then met his gaze.

  "You know what else I wanted? When you were showing me how to hook up our batteries, all I wanted was for you to bend me over the hood of my car. I wanted you pull up my skirt, shove your fingers right here." Micky fluttered her fingertips down her stomach to the separation between her legs, plunging her fingers into her own dark curls. "Then I wanted you to fuck me. I wanted to feel you pressing into me from behind, pumping into me."

  Micky didn't get to finish. Nick's hands took stronger hold of her hips, pulling her down and toward him. Micky knew what he wanted now, and it wasn't talk. She took his cock in her hand and guided him home.

  From the angle above him, Micky could feel his entire length. She didn't move. She held her breath and gripped him hard, loving the sweet pressure of him deep insider her. Nick's breath came in short gasps. She held him captive between her legs. He strained up to meet her and caressed her breasts. Rough fingertips tweaked her nipples, connecting a web of sensation between the peaked tips and her pulsing squeeze of his cock. When the urge for friction built to a fever pitch, she slid up slowly and then pushed herself back, nearly out of control. She rode him like she'd said she would. Nick continued to roll her nipples between his fingers. She matched his rhythm with her own fingers between her legs.

  The combination unlocked a flurry of heat that radiated from every point of connection between their bodies. She bucked now on top of him. He swore. Micky opened her eyes to see the sheen of sweat covering his hard body. Everything in him was taut…then he exploded. The jerk of his body triggered her own orgasm.

  Micky collapsed. Her hair fanned out over his chest and shoulders. Nick ran a hand down her spine and over her hip, then her leather-encased calf, which she had folded underneath her on the outside of his thighs. Micky put her chin on his chest and gazed at him through curtain of espresso waves.

  "You really like the boots?" She chuckled.

  "I love the boots. Among other things."

  "Other things like what?" Micky flipped her hair back and placed her hands on either side of his head. She couldn't read the expression in the stark green eyes staring back at her—wide and searching.

  "Right now, I love everything about you." Micky barely had time to let his words sink in before he grabbed her around the waist and said, "Roll over. It's my turn to thank you."

  Her stomach clenched, and thinking no longer mattered.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  The tiniest sliver of
light peaked through the drapes, and Micky's eyes popped open. Her limbs remained entangled with Nick's. The hairs on his legs tickled her sensitive skin. She pushed up onto one elbow with her other arm still wrapped around his. She carefully unwound it, sliding her palm over the firm ripples of his bicep. Unable to help herself, she leaned in to his neck and inhaled. If she bottled his scent and sold it, she could practically print money. She nipped at the cord of his neck with a biting kiss, and he turned his head.

  "Good morning." His sharp green eyes still hovered between sleep and wakefulness. Micky murmured her response to him through a softer, suckling kiss on the neck. He moaned and rolled over, taking her with him. Flat on her back with his legs between hers, he traced her collarbone with the tip of his tongue.

  Micky gave a half-hearted objection. "We can't."

  "I'm not listening to you."

  "We have to check out and transfer to the other hotel. Plus, we're supposed to be going to the Louvre."

  "La la la la la," he said, pretending not to hear her as he moved his hand to the juncture between her legs. A flutter of pleasure went through her, but she grabbed his head with her hands and shook it side to side.

  "No," she said and laughed. "We have to get up. We're on a schedule today."

  "Who? I'm not on anything except you this morning." His face hovered above her breasts, and he looked up at her through his fringe of dark lashes.

  "We are. We only have today and tomorrow. As exciting as this is—and as last night was—we can't spend the entire trip in bed."

  Nick planted his face in her cleavage. His hand moved to her hip.

  "That is absolutely no fun at all," he whined.

  "It will be," Micky promised, scooting out from under him, taking great pleasure in the disgruntled look on his face. Nick sprawled out over the bed sheets, naked and pouting. She jumped to her feet and walked around the bed. Then, she stopped and smacked him hard on his firm butt.

  "Ow!" Nick said. "Do it again."

  "No. We're getting up. I have to pack."

  He rolled over onto his back and propped his hands behind his head. "I'm already up. That's why this is such a travesty." Micky's knees nearly buckled.

  "We do have to shower, you know. Think of all the time we'll save doing it together," she suggested.

  "I love how you think. So efficient."

  Micky froze at Nick's use of the "L" word once again. It was just an expression, right? He hadn't told her that he loved her. His "love" mostly had to do with sex—her sexy boots and having sex with her in the shower. The way he talked about her was a good sign, but it didn't mean anything beyond the fact that they had fun in bed together. Besides, Micky didn't love Nick. Not yet. She liked him. Anything more was too much, too soon.

  Nick bounded up and followed her to the bathroom, returning her smack on the butt. She swore, but the sting faded as he pulled her hard against his chest and buried his face in her neck. His body enveloped hers, and she fought to remember their early call at the Louvre. This man could make her forget almost anything.

  "I think someone may have to give you a boost if you're going to be able to see," Micky told Taryn. They turned the corner and saw a crush of people swarming in the next gallery.

  The horde all had their hands in the air trying to get a picture of arguably the most famous painting in the world. After changing to an exquisite boutique hotel on the left bank, the foursome had managed to stay on Taryn's schedule and get to the Louvre for a key item on her checklist. She had to see the "Mona Lisa." The mob of like-minded tourists made that difficult. Taryn stood on her tiptoes, pushing her five-foot-two frame to the limit. Finally, Jeff grabbed her around the waist and lifted her nearly a foot off the ground. Taryn quickly snapped her photo.

  "Got it. Maybe I can walk around the edges and actually see it with my two eyes."

  "It's too bad we can't get a good view. I came here on a high school trip twenty years ago, and the 'Mona Lisa' was in a totally different spot in a random corridor. There were some crowds, but nothing like this," Jeff explained.

  "It's nice to bring your own stepladder. That may be the only reason she keeps you around, you know, Jeff," Micky joked. Taryn rolled eyes.

  "That's not true. He also opens jars and moves furniture. He has many talents."

  "I'm fine with that. As long as I'm useful, and she keeps me around." Jeff smiled lovingly at Taryn.

  "A man likes to know his role," Nick noted.

  "What are you doing for me exactly?" Micky asked him. He stopped walking and scrunched his brow, thinking.

  "I'm fun. I help you de-stress from work. And I also seem to feed you and buy you alcohol a lot."

  "A man buys you one pizza," Micky jested, playfully punching Nick in the arm.

  "The way to Micky's heart is through a martini," Taryn said. She winked at her friend surreptitiously.

  "A properly made martini is hard to find. I love a good one."

  Micky breathed a sigh of relief. She wanted Taryn to like Nick, and so far, they were getting along. Her friend had been suspicious of him at first. Of course, that was Micky's fault. She had been suspicious of Nick herself. Now, she could accept that what he wanted was her and to have fun. Nick was right. She needed more of that in her life.

  "I like a woman that knows what she wants. I've come to appreciate that," Nick replied.

  "Good." Micky squeezed his hand. "Right now, what I want is to see something else. There's so much here besides the Mona Lisa," Micky continued, getting whacked in the head by a man's selfie stick as she tried to move past the throng.

  "Attention," Micky snapped, in French. The guy had the nerve to look perturbed because their collision had ruined his photo, saying something irritable to her in a foreign tongue. Nick slipped a protective arm around her waist and glared at the man who looked like he might say something. With Nick towering over them, he decided against it.

  "Those things ought to be banned. I don't know how you whirl around with a weapon in your hand and have so little self-awareness. How's your head?"

  Nick reached up and rubbed the back of her head with the tips of his fingers. Micky locked on his concerned eyes and felt her temperature rise. Her head was fine. The rest of her started to melt under his touch.

  Micky had to stop looking at him like that. Louis XIV may have gotten away with dragging maidens through the Louvre to have his wicked way with them, but Nick couldn't afford to get arrested.

  He forced himself to look at one of the paintings so the desire darkening Micky's speckled golden eyes wouldn't get him into trouble. Titian's zaftig redhead staring at herself in the mirror had nothing on the stunning brunette standing next to him.

  They wound their way through the remaining galleries to the exit. A great irony of the preeminent French attraction was that the Louvre sat atop a mall, complete with food court. Micky and Nick wandered through the shops in search of gifts for Nick's nieces. Jeff had promised to bring his daughter something special.

  "He's brought her four something specials already," Taryn kidded him.

  "I don't spoil her often. I feel guilty enough for leaving her with my parents for the week," Jeff explained.

  "I've met your parents. They're probably spoiling her all week," Micky retorted.

  Jeff laughed and shrugged. "Yeah, more than likely. Being their only grandchild has its advantages. Lately, she's getting into picking out decorations for her room. I may see if I can't find her something like that. I saw a couple of those shops."

  "That's a good idea. My nieces are both into that or maybe some fashion." Nick glanced around the corridor at his options, baffled.

  "There's an art shop with some drawing sets and paint for kids. Alice might like that. Then, you can see if there's something for Natalie."

  "That's a good idea, but I'll probably get them the same thing, so they don't fight," he said, nodding.

  "Is that what it's like to have two?" Jeff asked.

  "That's what it's like to have tho
se two. They love each other. But they're close to the same age, and they bicker over everything." Nick laughed.

  "Maybe by the time we have another kid, Olivia won't see him or her as competition," Jeff commented wishfully.

  "I think Olivia will love being a big sister. And maybe she'll have a brother and they'll be less competition," Taryn said, wrapping her arm around Jeff's waist. He beamed at her.

  "I could go for having a boy. I could use someone on my team in the house."

  "Already planning the babies, and you're not even married. My mother would love to have you as a son," Nick joked.

  "The key is to have a first marriage that goes to hell. That'll slow them down on trying to push you down the altar," Jeff explained. His acerbic tone surprised Nick.

  "That bad?" he asked.

  "We try not to talk about it. I'm doing much better this time around." Jeff dropped a kiss on Taryn's cheek.

  "Me too," Nick said. Micky blushed, which made him smile.

  "Let's get going. We want to make sure we have time to hit the Musée d'Orsay this afternoon. Tick, tock, right, Taryn?" Micky tapped her wrist.

  Taryn shot Micky an indiscernible look, but the couples went their separate ways with the agreement they'd meet outside by the large pyramid in an hour to stay on track with Taryn's agenda.

  "We have dinner reservations, and I want to make sure we get back to the hotel in time to clean up," Taryn yelled before she and Jeff walked out of earshot.

  "Taryn must be great at her job. She keeps everything marching along," Nick acknowledge.

  "Is that your way of saying she's bossy?"

  Nick tried to formulate an answer that wouldn't offend Taryn's best friend. "She's in charge."

  "She's bossy." A slanted smile spread on her face. "But I love it. She's usually right, and she makes things happen. Plus, it's not like she tells you what to do. She assumes you're going to do things her way until you inform her otherwise. It's just hard to know that."