by Angel Payne
His passionate craving…still for me.
Those vast midnight skies…still loving me.
How I hoped.
How I prayed…
And had those prayers answered, as soon as he rushed for me. Or maybe it was me, lunging for him. It didn’t matter. The second our bodies crashed, I was back in the strong, safe envelope of his arms again. Surrounded by the perfect, powerful force of him again. Drowning in the decadent, brilliant certainty of him again.
I clung to him like a spider monkey on a banyan, holding on for as long as he’d let me. I breathed him in, savoring his bergamot and cedar scent, though now noticed his cologne was joined with other masculine shit, like sawdust and wood stain. The intoxicating scent shot through me like an arrow of arousal. At once, I was wet for him in all the right places—and instantly noticed he was hard for me in all the same spots.
Yes. Yesss.
Mix me up, Lucien. Don’t ever stop. Please.
“Bonsoir, mademoiselle.” There was a welcoming smile in his whisper, but even without it, my answer was already set.
“Bonsoir, mon amour.”
Well, that made him jerk back—but only so he could grab the back of my head and force my gaze to align with his. He pierced his stare into me with the force of black steel, and for the first time, I was able to read all the way into his thoughts. He was desperate to confirm his ears hadn’t tricked him. I tried helping things along as much as possible, returning his death-hold grip and smiling up into his face. Not that I had to be forced. Not now. I gave into the thrill of every cartwheel he flipped in my belly, every atom of dizzy lust he inspired in my senses.
And yes—the giant eraser he was taking to all the fear in my heart.
Still, I gave in to a nervous bite of my lip. “Lucien?”
A sultry smile curled its way over the rich pillows of his lips. “Yes, mon reve?”
“I…I have a lot to tell you. A lot…that’s uncomfortable. And I don’t know if I’ll be any good at it.”
He flung his head back, tossing a soft laugh into the sawdust-strewn air. “And you think I am?” But mercifully, he returned his head to its normal angle. No; better than that. He dipped down, capturing my willing lips beneath the command of his own. Though he delved inside to flick his tongue against mine, a taste was all I got before he rose back up and husked, “We will muddle through it all together, d’accord? Okay?”
“Together,” I echoed on a sigh. “That sounds pretty magnifique.”
Milo stepped forward, a shit-eating grin now adorning his face. “Maybe we can start by talking about an extended headliner run at Avanti.”
Lucien jerked up his chin in an air of friendly competition. “Or maybe she will decide to accept my offer, instead.”
I felt my eyes widen. “Ermmm…offer?”
Devilish glints sparkled in Lucien’s gaze. His dimples became small canyons as he spread a full grin. At last he stood back and swept an arm around, indicating the organized chaos around us. “To help me open up Mon Reve Recording and Production Studios.”
My jaw plummeted. A bizarre croak burst from me. Of all the moments Lucien Paget had successfully halted my heart mid-beat, this one was guaranteed a top three spot on the chart. I had to save room for the magic the man could wield with his amazing hips.
Eventually, I found my voice again. At least long enough to stutter, “Wh-what?”
Lucien’s grin spread to little-boy-at-the-Tour-de-France proportions. “I need someone to make certain this place is producing the finest dance artists and unique mixes in the world. Can you think of anyone who might be up for the job, mademoiselle?” He waggled his dark brows, and smirked suggestively. “I hear the boss is magnifique in bed, as well.”
I sidled back up to him, wrapping both arms around his waist. “Is that ‘bed’ stuff a prerequisite for the job?”
Lucien growled low. “I also hear his contracts are very agreeable.”
“Hmmmm.” I bounced up on tiptoe, capturing his bottom lip with my teeth. “In that case…challenge accepted, my love.”
He groaned low while returning the nibbling attention. “Say it again,” he ordered in an equally vehement growl.
“Challenge—”
I giggled to a stop as he soundly swatted my backside. “The other part,” he ordered.
I hummed and then giggled, because of course I knew what part. Still I taunted, “Hmmm. Do you mean…”
“Say it, Juliette.”
Snarly orders or not, I was helpless to deny him any longer. “My love,” I whispered against his lips. “You are my love, Lucien. I love you so damn much.”
No more growls from him now. Instead, he held me tighter and then took my mouth in a passion-filled kiss that wrapped around my whole heart, lit up my whole soul, and swept me off of my proverbial feet—until he turned even that fantasy last into incredible reality. In one powerful sweep, he scooped me into his arms. It was my perfect dream princess moment. No; even better. So much better.
As it always was with my Lucien.
The man who saw mixed-up little me. And decided to love me anyway.
As he carried me off for a grand tour of my dream music palace, I clicked my mind onto the countdown timer that I’d been keeping since arriving here. I had one new entry for that bothersome ticking clock—before I turned it off forever.
The rest of my life…and never counting again.
Thank you so much for taking this passionate journey with Juliette and Lucien!
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AUTHOR’S NOTE: It is noted that the word reve, which is French for “dream”, is usually spelled with a circumflex over the first “e”. Due to formatting restrictions by the e-book platform, the proper accenting was not able to be included in this e-book novella.