Sleeping With Paris (27 page)

Then when I thought about Lexi’s advances on Marc, and her obsession with men and sex in general, I realized I felt bad for her . . . . but I also knew that if I didn't get a grip on my life and on my priorities, I would
become
her.

In that moment, I wished I was back in DC so I could just call Katie and take the bus over to her place like I always used to do.

But I wasn’t home. I was alone in France, sitting with a person I wasn't liking all too much at the moment—myself.

I pulled up my blog and began typing.

Rule # 1 – Relationships with men are fleeting, so it is important to surround yourself with true friends who you know you can always count on.

If I’ve learned anything this past year, it’s that guys will come and go. So while you’re out having a good time, don’t forget to be there for your friends. This means remembering that friendships come first and guys come second. No exceptions.

At the end of the day, ladies, if you’re down and out, will the new guy you just met out at a bar be the one listening to you vent on the phone about your latest catastrophe?

No, he most certainly will not.

It will be your friends—your true friends—who will pick up the pieces and make you feel loved again. And, more importantly, your true friends will be the ones to tell you the truth about yourself, even if you're not willing to hear it.

After publishing my blog post, I wrote Fiona an email to apologize. I told her that I was genuinely happy for her and Andrew, and that I appreciated her honesty with me. Then, as I switched off the light in my bedroom and curled up underneath my comforter, missing my friends from home and wishing they weren't an ocean away, my phone beeped.

It was a text message from Lexi. It read:

The sex with Marc was just so so.

Which in Lexi language meant that she’d never be talking to Marc again. He was just another notch on her bedpost. And while Lexi was exactly the type of friend I’d needed to get over my broken engagement when I’d first arrived in Paris, I wondered how deep the friendship could really go when her main priority was sleeping around.

Eighteen

samedi, le 12 mars

Until you have all the facts, don’t go judging a French man by his skinny cover.

As February rolled into March, I noticed the light peering out from under Luc’s door every night. He was back.

Whenever I heard a door close in the hallway, I jetted up to my peep-hole and peered through to see if he was walking down the hall. I hadn’t had any luck, until one day when I was leaving the showers. I was all wrapped up in my skimpy towel, with another towel wrapped like a turban around my wet hair when I spotted Luc locking his door. Even though I’d been doing a little more than just hoping to run into him (spying—
moi
?), I considered turning around and running back to the showers. What would I say to him? “Hey, I know I turned you down, but could we still have sex and eat chocolate in bed together?” It seemed perfectly logical to me, but I didn’t know if he’d buy it. And besides, I knew it was more than that. Just the sight of him released a vat of wild butterflies in my stomach.

Before I had a chance to decide what to do, Luc turned around and spotted me standing at the end of the hall, dripping wet.

“Charlotte, hey.”

“Hi, Luc.” I shuffled toward him, making sure my towel didn’t fall down. Not that he hadn’t seen what was underneath it anyway, but still.

“I always see you coming out of the shower. Are you planning this?”

I laughed. “No, of course not. I think you’re following me around, waiting to see me in this hot towel.”

That got a laugh out of him. “Yes, I love that towel wrapped around your hair. It is so sexy.”

“So, how have you been?” I asked.

“Good, very busy. I am close to finishing my Master’s degree, you know, . . . and I have a lot of other things going on too, so yes, I have been very busy. And you? You are still enjoying life in Paris?”

“Yeah, it’s been good, you know. I . . . I’ve been meaning to stop by. I knew you were probably busy though, and . . .” I trailed off, not really knowing where I was going with this, just knowing that I was happy to see him.

Luc shifted his weight back and forth a few times, then finally looked me in the eye and smiled. “I would like to take you out tomorrow. It is my birthday, so we will go out and have a drink, no?”

“That sounds perfect. It’s your thirtieth, right?”

“No, I will only be twenty-two. What are you talking about?” he said as he winked at me. “I will knock on your door at 8 o’clock.”

“Sounds great, I’ll see you then.”

I scuttled back to my room and realized that I felt more excited about hanging out with Luc the next night than I had about anything in a long time.

***

Always punctual, Luc knocked on my door just as the clock turned eight. He smiled flirtatiously as he slid his hand around my waist and leaned in to give me bisous. The smell of his cologne and the feel of his warm breath on my skin gave me goose bumps. God, I’d missed him. 

Instead of taking me to the RER station, Luc led me to his car—a blue Renault Twingo, which was just slightly larger than a Smart car. We climbed in, and after winking in my direction, Luc sped off through the city, its night lights twinkling underneath the full moon. He cranked up a French radio station as he whizzed in and out of the winding streets, and whenever he wasn’t shifting, Luc reached his right hand over and placed it gently on my thigh. My heart beat picked up as we passed by the Opéra Garnier, where we’d had our last date. Before I had a chance to think about how badly that date had ended though, Luc rounded the corner and zoomed into a tight parking spot on a busy side street.

After opening the door for me, Luc took my hand and led me down rue Daunou to a bar called Footsie. A blast of warm air welcomed us into the dimply lit pub as we walked up to the long, wooden bar and squeezed in between two packs of rowdy French guys.

“Tonight, we are having beer,” Luc told me before ordering us two tall glasses, then leading me over to a booth in the corner of the bar.

“Happy thirtieth birthday,” I said as I clinked my glass with his. We both took a big, long sip, and to my surprise, the beer actually tasted great going down. I took a second giant sip just to loosen up. I’d been nervous all day, wondering what we would talk about, how this night would unfold. I wasn’t sure why Luc would want to spend his thirtieth birthday with me, but then again, I wasn’t sure why I wanted to spend his thirtieth birthday with him either if I was so anti-relationship. All I knew was that I was happy to be in his company again, and my hormones hadn’t shut off since January. It had been a two month build-up, and something had to give.

“I can’t believe I am thirty. It goes so fast. One minute you are twenty, you’re young, you’re at the university with no bills to pay, no responsibilities, and then, the next minute you are thirty. Tell me, Charlotte, how does this happen?”

I laughed. “Oh come on, thirty isn’t that old. I thought men weren’t supposed to care about age.”

“You are right, it is the women who are supposed to feel sad and depressed when they are thirty, not the men.”

“That’s right, so cheer up and drink some more of that beer,” I said as I nudged him in the side. “I’m sure I’ll be depressed enough for the both of us when I turn thirty.”

He grinned at me, then took a huge gulp of beer. “No, you will be even more beautiful when you are thirty than you are now.”

I felt my cheeks blush all the way up to my ears. How was it that he could always get me with those corny, French man lines?

Luc downed the last of his beer and headed back up to the bar to get two more. When he sat back down, he wrapped his arm tightly around my shoulders and pressed his thigh up against mine.

His hot breath blew across my neck as he leaned in to my ear. “So, why did you want to come out with me on my birthday? I didn’t know if I would see you again.”

I gazed up into his handsome chestnut eyes and knew I wouldn't be able to keep my guard up any longer. I had to tell him the truth. “I missed you.”

Luc pinned his serious gaze on me as he lowered his face to mine, and just as I thought he was going to kiss me, he ran his finger down my neck, then picked up my necklace instead. “Your necklace is all tied up,” he said as he rested his hands above my chest and untangled the silver chain.

My body temperature rose. With Luc’s hands so close to my breasts and the alcohol taking its hold on me, I wanted to kiss him. To feel his arms around me. To be naked in bed with him.

I wanted another chance to be with him.

But had I said too much?

“There, all better.” He ran his hands over my shoulders, then smiled at me—that warm, sweet, sexy smile that melted me, that made me lose all my defenses. Then just before his lips met mine, he whispered, “I missed you too.”

He laced his fingers through my hair and held the back of my head as he kissed me in the corner of the crowded bar. I didn’t even notice the noisy crowd yelling and laughing around us. All I could think about was how insanely wonderful it felt to be kissing Luc again. And how I never wanted it to stop.

“Want to get out of here?” he whispered in my ear after letting me come up for air.

I didn’t even answer him. I grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the booth. We raced for the door, and once we were back in the car, Luc kissed me again before we sped off into the Parisian night. As we rounded Place de la Concorde with its tall obelisk lighting up the circle, Luc stopped at a red light and placed his hand on my inner thigh. He massaged it higher and higher until I thought I would explode. It seemed like it took an eternity for us to get back to his room, where he stripped me naked within seconds of walking in the door. I tore off his shirt and pants before he picked me up, wrapped my legs around his waist and slammed my back up against the wall. He pressed tightly into me and began thrusting so deeply that I cried out in pleasure. I didn’t care that my back would be covered in bruises the next day. I needed him inside of me, and the pleasure was almost unbearable.

I gripped Luc’s shoulders as he carried me over to the bed, laid me down, and rolled me over onto my stomach. Then he reached his hands up in between my legs, spread them ever so slightly, and pushed his fingers inside of me. He straddled me and kept pressing his hand deeper as he kissed the length of my back. I felt his hand pull out as he pressed his groin on top of me and entered me from behind. He went so deep, I could hardly breathe.

He lowered his body against my back as he slid in and out of me.

“Charlotte, I missed your body,” he whispered into my ear as his hot breath sent tingles down my spine. “
Je veux te faire l’amour toute la nuit.
”

There’s nothing sexier than a hot French man telling you
in French
that he wants to make love to you all night long. I flipped onto my back, pushed him over and climbed on top of him. He grinned as he let me take control. I slid back and forth on top of him until I couldn’t hold my pleasure in any longer. I moaned as I collapsed on top of him. Luc kept pushing deep inside of me as I held on to his shoulders. Finally, I felt him throbbing as he let out a groan and collapsed onto his back.

We lay tangled in his sheets for a while until we caught our breath. I wondered how another man could ever compare to this. I’d never felt so pleased, so deeply satisfied, as I did when I was with Luc.

Then, as if the sex wasn’t amazing enough, Luc reached into his night stand and pulled out a bar of Lindt dark chocolate.

I burst out laughing.

“What, you think eating chocolate after sex is funny?”

“No, I love it. It’s just you. You’re cute, that’s all.”

“Cute?”

“Okay, you’re a sexy, hot man who loves chocolate. You’re not cute.”

“That’s better.” Luc unwrapped the bar of chocolate and fed me square after decadent square until my pleasure meter had hit its max. As I was drowning in delight, the taste of rich, melty chocolate swirling around on my tongue, a thought crossed my mind. Hannah’s DC wedding was coming up in a month, and I still didn’t have a date.

“Luc, I have a question for you.”

“Yes?”

“Would you be interested in coming with me to a wedding back in DC next month?”

“Really? You want me to be your date?”

“Yes, I'd love to have you there with me.”

Luc’s grin widened as he leaned in and planted a kiss on my lips.

“I take that as a yes?”

“Yes, I would love to go with you.”

“Happy Birthday Luc,” I said as I kissed his neck and wrapped my arms around his sexy, naked body.

And just as we were starting to roll around under the sheets again, Luc’s cell phone rang.

He shot up out of bed to answer it while I tried to remain calm. Who in the hell was always calling him this late and why did he have to jump out of bed to answer it? This was bullshit. I started to get up and put my clothes back on, but Luc walked over to me and grabbed my shoulders. “Charlotte, I have to take this call, and then I will explain. Please don’t leave.”