by Chloe Blake
“Don’t be shy,” he said, his fingers starting on his cuff links.
“When it comes to things I want, I never am.”
“You’re very confident. You’ll have to tell me how you do that.”
“Later.” Reaching up, she pulled his head down and kissed him—a full-throttle, confident kiss.
It shouldn’t have triggered such an intense reaction. It was something about her, even earlier, when he’d seen her in the stairs. She had been ready to fight him. It had been intriguing.
Maybe it was the full moon—merde if he knew—but he was all for it.
His lips moved over her throat when he turned her gently, slipped the straps down her arms.
* * *
Maya couldn’t breathe or stand, held up by the press of Nic’s lips on her nape and the hard frame of his body. The slip dress she wore lay at her feet in about three seconds flat. Unabashed in her lingerie, glad she’d chosen the good undies, she kicked the silk pool aside and spun around to face him. “My turn,” she said with a smile.
He grinned back. “I’m all yours.” His gaze flickered down, taking in her dark red lace strapless bra and panties to match. “Garnet,” he whispered, referencing the wine they had just tasted.
“I like red.”
His gaze was appreciative. “So do I.”
His arms came slightly up as she stripped the white shirt from his shoulders, her gaze taking in the muscled chest and rippling torso with its smattering of dark hair. “Nice. You must work out.”
His smile was humble. “Not really. I do some work on a vineyard sometimes.”
“Hmm. That must be nice.”
“Not as nice as this.” He pulled her against him, breasts to chest, and let the backs of his fingers trail down her side. In one move, those same fingers came back up and unsnapped her bra. Carefully, he pulled it from between their bodies and tossed it onto the dresser, then turned back and gave her the hottest, sexiest look she’d ever seen. “I don’t want your clothes to get ruined. I want you to think about me the next time you wear them.”
“That’s very considerate,” she murmured, reaching for a button on his pants, not sure she was going to last for the entire undressing with the hard, steady throbbing between her legs. A soft moan escaped her throat as he kissed her shoulder and then the swell of her breast. Her hands went into his hair just as he nipped, teased and licked her hardened nipple into the heat of his mouth. Her head lolled back. God, it had been so long.
His mouth found her other breast while his fingers slipped into the top of her lace panties and then farther. She shivered at his slow strokes, feeling her body open for him. She had never wanted anyone this much. Never! He eased her panties down her soft curves and tossed them with the bra. His gaze flicked down and then up again and met hers—causing her to start unzipping his pants.
She fumbled for the zipper pull and he kissed her lightly then brushed her hands away. He had his pants, boxer briefs, socks and shoes off in a blur.
“Now then.” He grinned. “It’s just us and the moon. Look.” As he’d mentioned, the moonlight cut across the bed like a spotlight.
“Wow,” she whispered, her gaze lifting from his erection.
He laughed deeply. “That’s not what I was talking about. But you naked with this satin skin—magnifique,” he said, husky and low. With a polite lift of his finger, he found his wallet in the pile of his trousers, pulled out a condom and moved to place it on the nightstand. “For mademoiselle,” he said when he came back to stand in front of her. Cupping her face, her kissed her gently, stroking her back in a lazy motion. He pulled back, his hands coming to rest on one butt cheek—waiting for her cue.
“I can’t wait,” she whispered, her thigh sliding against his, her stomach pressing against his rigid erection.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered back. He returned his mouth to hers, kissing her deeply before swinging her up into his arms and laying her under him on the bed. His muscles rippled as he shifted to protect her from his full weight.
She moaned when his hand slid down her body and he slid his fingers deep. His gaze was dominant and seductive as she lifted and pushed against his hand, her orgasm churning from his firm touch. She gasped when he slid lower, kissing his way down her body, and parted her with the hot slow lick of his tongue. His electric strokes had her body undulating involuntarily, and he pinned her down with one arm and tortured her with his mouth as he took what he wanted.
“Honey,” he whispered under his breath. “Sweet wine and honey.”
She writhed against his restraint as he brought her closer to the edge, fanning the flames of her tremors with his lips and fingers, keeping her there until she was sure she could take no more.
* * *
“Nic—”
He looked up and saw her naked form spread before him, the light of the moon illuminating her body with ethereal blue light. He eased back up her body, reached for the condom on the nightstand and rolled it in place. Steadying her with one hand, he bent his legs, deftly positioned himself and took a small breath of restraint. He sent up a small prayer of thanks to la lune and pushed into her welcoming body with a smooth upward thrust of his hips.
She shivered, trembled as his rigid length slowly filled her, driving him deep. He shut his eyes against the wild, fevered lust exploding in his brain, overwhelmed by the feel of her. His mind blanked and he stalled as wine-infused pleasure washed over him.
“Nic?” she whispered, her mouth nipping at his chin and jaw.
He answered by rocking hard and deep inside her, the sounds from her throat urging him further, making him hotter.
“More...more,” she panted.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered over her mouth.
“No—no—it’s good,” she gasped. “Perfect...” She sank her nails into his shoulders and pushed her hips up to meet him. His brain lifted away and he followed her body’s cue, sliding his hands under her bottom and lifting her up, her legs wrapping around his waist so he could thrust in deeper—like that...
“Harder,” she whispered. He obliged. Sex had never felt like this before.
Her fierce gaze was locked on his as he surged into her, rapidly throwing them both into a sexual frenzy. She suddenly went still in his arms, and knowing what that meant, he kissed her hard, lifted her bottom up and plunged to meet her orgasm.
Her eyes were wide, her body tightening around him in a death grip. Her orgasm began rippling up his shaft and, breath held, his orgasm exploded in a furious strike of lightning that snaked up and down his spine.
The soft music in the background was accompanied by the low-and high-pitched tones of both their screams.
When their breathing stabilized, Nic rolled to his side, discarded the condom on the floor and pulled his beautiful companion into the crook of his arm. He racked his brain for her first name, afraid of asking this late in the game, but all of that was forgotten as she licked a warm path up his throat and hitched a silky thigh onto his leg. “Mmm...” she said in the sexiest of whispers.
He was instantly hard, and without a word, he pulled her on top of him and slipped inside her velvety sweetness. She moved roughly over him, her hips testing and rolling, rocking and riding. She found her rhythm, and using his shoulders as leverage, her breasts bounced beautifully for him. Deep moans came from his throat as her honeyed friction tumbled through his body, the pure ecstasy torching his brain. He was close again, his penis rigid, his muscles clenching; no wonder they called it the little death.
He wasn’t wearing a condom. Merde. In a herculean move he never thought he would be capable of, he lifted her from him, flipped her on her back and covered her pulsing sex with his mouth. His lips worked furiously until he felt her skin quiver and heard a succession of screams each deeper and lasting longer than the last.
She propped herself on
her elbows, her eyes glassy. “Why?” she breathed.
He kissed her inner thigh, crawled up her body and lay on his back beside her. “We were unprotected.”
“You’re strong,” she said, coming off her elbows to lie facing him on her pillow.
“And you’re soft.” He turned toward her and pulled her closer, his hands smoothing over her hip to her bottom. “Really soft,” he whispered, unable to believe that his erection began to respond. Just a touch of her skin; that was all it took.
Her gaze ran down his body and she watched as his lower half did its best to reach toward her. “Wow. Do you do yoga or something?”
“I don’t, not that I haven’t thought about it, but I promise you, his behavior is out of character. He must really like you.”
“Well, I really like him.” She shimmied closer to touch the tip. “And I’d love to show him, but we’ll need provisions.”
The hunter-gatherer in him rolled toward the nightstand and found the hotel phone. He punched room service. “It’s Nic, can someone get me Joc?” He watched her as he waited, pushing back down the sheet she used to cover her body. He knew their time was limited, and he wanted her naked for all of it.
“Sup, boss? Are you calling from a room?”
Nic kept his voice low. “Yes, I am. Can you please send up a charcuterie and cheese plate, another crystal glass and a box of condoms.”
“Ah, yeah! You finally—”
“Now.” Nic hung up the phone before Joc’s loud mouth came through the receiver.
She was lounging, watching him. “What do you do here?”
The knock on the door was loud and obnoxious. Joc. Don’t embarrass me. He gathered a sheet around his hips and kissed her lightly. “I’ll be right back.”
Nic slowly opened the door and stuck his head into the crack. “Don’t say a word.”
Joc’s smile touched both of his ears. “Oui, boss.” He held the wood cutting board with meats and cheeses with one hand. “As requested, plus I added a few of the special cuts, some pickles and honey, and a few chocolates for effect. Oh, and this.” Joc produced a giant box of Magnums from behind his back. Nic’s eyes darted down the hall, then he grabbed them.
“Give me the board.”
“I’ll be happy to set it down for you, just let me in.” Joc stretched himself to look over Nic’s shoulder.
“Get out of here.”
Joc sighed, carefully transferring the cutting board to Nic. “All right, but this isn’t fair. At least tell me what celebrity she looks most like.”
Nic rolled his eyes, then looked back over his shoulder before turning back to Joc. “Beyoncé. But better.”
“Wha—” Nic slammed the door in Joc’s face, then shuffled into the bedroom, placing the board and condoms on the dresser.
“How hungry are you?” he asked. When he got no answer, he stood and turned...and his breath caught in his throat. She was naked, stretched out on her stomach across the bed with her upper body propped on her elbows as the moonlight slashed over her back, butt and thighs. The half mask of Ariadne was placed over her face. She lifted her feet playfully, pulled down the mask and gave him a sexual look.
“I’m pretty hungry, but not for food.”
Nic released his sheet, letting it drop so she could see what her body did to him. He grabbed the box of condoms and slowly walked toward the bed.
He was going make love to her until he couldn’t move.
And that was what they did until the sun came up and the birds sang and the streak of light across their faces reminded them it was morning.
Rising from the bed, Nic punched a button on the nightstand and sighed when the drapes slid closed. She was still asleep, her arms over her head and her breasts bared. His lower body stuttered, then gave up. In other circumstances, he’d be concerned, but judging by the wrappers on the floor, they’d had enough sex in one night to last them a lifetime. He padded to the bathroom, slapped some water on his face, then stumbled toward his clothes. One leg at a time, he told himself.
He didn’t want to leave like this.
Not a useful feeling, because he had to go.
He heard the sheets rustle.
“Morning and reality—right?”
“Right.”
“Well, thank you.” She stretched in a lazy way. “I’m glad I invited you in. It was worth it.”
“Oui, it was,” he murmured into her eyes.
He found his phone in his pocket, grimaced at the missed calls, many from Daphne, then balked at the time.
“I gotta go,” he said. “I have an appointment this morning I can’t miss.”
“Okay. Sure.”
“Everything was—you were...incroyable.” He smiled. “Merci beaucoup.” He began gathering up the rest of his clothes.
She rolled over and pulled the sheet up to her chin. He saw her breathing grow even. Nic let himself out, irritable and surly. He didn’t want to go, preferring to at least provide a breakfast for his lovers, but she needed to sleep, and he had an important appointment.
The closer he got to his penthouse suite, the more he saw the night as a gift. She was a beautiful stranger with whom he had no foreseeable future, which was a blessing, because his life was too complicated right now for a passionate romance—no matter how unique the woman might be.
Chapter 5
By midmorning, Maya was showered and dressed...exhausted, but in that deliciously satisfied way when you were up all night counting orgasms. Three for him, four for her and one electric moment when her body entered an extended buzzed state as they clung to each other in a climactic aftermath. She’d never felt anything like it. Her skin hummed with the memory as she got ready for her meeting.
Coffee and small bites had been sent to the room anonymously—what a gentleman—and she’d found a hastily scribbled note on the bedside table that read:
Thank you for a beautiful night. I would love to spend more time with you. He listed his phone number. Beside the note lay her mask. She should frame it.
Maya held her phone and thought about putting in the number, but then let the note fall back to the table. It had been a perfect night, and he had been the most flawless of lovers. She knew nothing about him, and she didn’t want to. Reality would ruin that memory, so she decided to shift her focus to the day ahead of her, which included a necessary phone call to her mother.
* * *
“You’re where?” Maya’s mother asked when she told her she was staying in Paris for a few weeks.
“Paris, France.”
“For work?” Maya could tell her mother knew something was up. She had never just flown out of the country without telling her beforehand.
“No, not really.”
“Well, you should have told me you wanted to go on vacation, Maya. I have enough miles to take us all to Cabo and—”
Maya let her head drop into her hands. “Mother! When was the last time you spoke to my father?”
“Well, he’s right here, Maya. Why wouldn’t I be speaking to him?” Her mother chuckled.
“No, I mean my real dad.” She heard her mother’s inhale. “When was it?”
“I don’t know. Fifteen, twenty years ago maybe? Why?” Her mother was using that cautious tone she always got when talking about her father. Maya had always interpreted it as protective, but just then, it felt secretive.
“That long? He never reached out? You never reached out?”
“Why would I reach out to him? He left us, remember?” It was an expression her mother used often, with the emphasis on us. Maya had been so young she didn’t remember. There were only snippets of big hands tossing her in the air, a deep voice laughing, presents at Christmas.
“Where did he go?”
“I told you. He went back to Chicago.”
“But he wasn’t American.�
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“No, but... What are all these questions about?”
Maya paused. “He’s dead.”
“What?” Her mom’s voice sounded smaller.
“He died.”
Her mother paused. “How would you know that?”
“He left me his business. In Paris.”
“Paris.” Her mother’s voice quivered. “What kind of business?”
“A vineyard and wine brokerage or something like that.”
“Right,” her mother whispered.
“You sound upset.”
A sniffle followed a long sigh. “We were in love once. What do you expect?”
“I don’t know. You never gave me that impression. You don’t talk about him. Why did he leave?”
“Your grandmother didn’t approve and sent him packing. I was young and scared then.” Her distressed inhale made Maya wince. “I love your stepfather very much, Maya. But I always wondered—” A sob came then.
“You always wondered if you should have gone with him.”
“Yes,” she said on a swallowed tear. There was more in the silence, but Maya wasn’t ready to pry.
“I have to go there to see it. I have two weeks to take it on, or it goes to someone else.”
Another giant sigh came from the receiver. “Was he married?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Well, you’re not going to take it, are you. What about your job?”
“I’ll figure it out,” Maya said quickly, afraid to tell her mother what had happened in New York. She thought of more to ask about her father, then stopped. “Um, I should go, I have a meeting.”
“All right. But Maya? You’re not going to take it over, are you?”
“Doubtful, Mother. I already have a job. I know nothing about wine and I barely speak French. I just want to see it.”
“When are you coming back?”
“A few weeks. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”
“All right. I love—”