When in Paris... (Language of Love) (26 page)

Zach rolls to the side and opens the drawer of the nightstand and begins rooting around inside. After several seconds, brow creased, he sets me gently aside and pushes himself into a sitting position, his feet on the floor. He yanks the drawer out as far as it can go. His movements become desperate.

“
Shit.
Where the fuck—?”

The moment I hear that, something clicks inside me and I know exactly what he’s looking for. I drag my dress up to cover my breasts, too self-conscious to sit on the bed half-naked.

Scowling and looking slightly frantic, Zach bolts to his feet and begins pulling out the drawers of the dresser.

I clear my throat. “No condom?”

“Dammit. I put them right there.” Shirtless, he points to the nightstand and then plows both hands through his hair, the dark strands spiked and disheveled.
Incredibly sexy.
I scramble off the bed and retrieve my purse from the dresser.

My mom has always taught me to be prepared and although I told myself I wasn’t going to need protection, that trusty voice inside me had urged me to be ready for the “in case”. Tonight I’m glad I listened.

Not giving up hope, Zach goes to the closet and yanks his suitcase from inside. He opens it there on the floor and rifles through its contents but after a half a minute, he rises, defeat and frustration written all over his face.

“Looking for one of these?” A foil package dangles from my fingers. I try to make my voice light and teasing but my question is all unadulterated need and want as my body hums in anticipation.

By the look on his face, you’d think I just discovered the Holy Grail or the Cowboys won the Super Bowl again. It’s a mixture of relief and the kind of joy a guy gets when he’s going to get some.

“Thank God.”

Taking the condom from me, he gently lowers my hand from where it was holding my bodice up and walks me backward until the back of my knees hit the mattress. Then he’s lowering me onto the bed, settling between my thighs.

From the way he undresses me, taking his time, kissing every bit of flesh he uncovers, it’s obvious this isn’t
his
first time. After every stitch of fabric I had on litters the floor, he makes quick work of stripping off the rest of his. Then he’s over me, all broad shoulders, muscled chest and arms and smooth, golden skin. I’ve never seen anything this beautiful in my life.

With my palms flat against his chest, I run my hands from his defined pecs to the rippled hardness of his abs until he lowers himself on top of me. My hands then move to his back.

When he starts to kiss me again, I lose all sense of time, transported from the here and now. Not one inch of me goes unattended: my breasts, my stomach, my hips, my butt. Everything he does heightens every one of my senses so that when I wrap my legs around his hips and he thrusts into me, I’m so far gone, I don’t tense up but tilt my hips and let his rhythm take me.

What I’d always imagined would be a painful experience turns out to be no more than a pinch of discomfort and before too long, I’m experiencing the kind of pleasure I’d only ever read and heard about.

The race to the top is hot and wild as he pounds into me. The peak is high as he captures my breathless cries in his mouth. The descent is long and languid. I come down from it cocooned in a haze of passion…supremely sated.

~*~*~

“What time did you say Bill will be back?”

We’re lying on our sides, spoon-fashion and he’s nibbling on my neck. I sigh. I could stay like this all day, him holding me, me in his arms.

A glance at the clock on the night stand beside me tells me it’s almost midnight.

“Sometime after midnight,” he mumbles, tightening his arms around me, one hand moving to cup my breast. A bolt of pleasure arrows through me to start a dull throbbing in my center.

“I wish you could spend the night,” he says, his voice muffled by his lips on my neck. “I already want you again.”

The way my bottom is pressing against him, my body definitely concurs. And there’s nothing I want more. But we’re on a class trip and that’s not going to happen.

“Come on, we need to get up. With my luck, Bill will come back early and find us…like this.” With a sweep of my hand, I gesture to our entwined legs and the way our damp bodies are melded together.

Zach takes his time removing his hands from me. He slowly sits up and swings his feet to the floor. As I’m visually caressing the gorgeous contours of his back, he slants me a suggestive look over his shoulder as if to say,
You sure
?

Yes. Um no. Argh!

It takes him seconds to step into his boxer briefs and then his pants. Instead of following his lead, I remain on the bed, clutching the sheet to my shoulders and watch him as if he’s my personal peep show.

Turning, he sees me staring and a predatory smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Don’t tempt me,” he warns.

My face flames hotter. Now fully conscious that I’m stark frickin’ naked, I search the dimly lit room and spy my discarded clothes on the floor.

The break in eye contact seems to clear Zach’s head because he gives it two shakes before he moves to pick up my dress, my silky bra and my barely there thong. “Turn around,” he says, his voice strained.

Zach helping me dress is not what I had in mind—and given the tenuous nature of our control, so
not
a good idea—but I instinctively follow his command, exposing my bare back to him.

His sharp intake both excites and floors me. I love knowing he wants me this much.

In a silence thick with more sexual possibilities, he helps me on with my bra, securing the back hooks while I adjust the cups in the front. The whole time we’re working in concert, I can feel the moist warmth of his breath on my neck.

Just as I’m reaching to pull the top half of my dress in place, his hands come around from the back and cup my breasts in his palms.

“Just one last feel to keep me tonight,” he says through a groan, his mouth open on the side of my neck.

White-hot desire throbs in my lower stomach and my breath becomes reedy as if I’m gulping air instead of breathing it. It’s like his touch is too much and my body can’t stand the stimulation. I once heard sex described as sweet agony and now I know exactly why.

“Hmm,” I say, unable to get out more than that.

Suddenly he’s gone, his hands, his mouth, the press of his chest against my back. Gone. Still in my fog, I turn and peer up at him, my eyes unfocused for a second before he comes into sharp focus, the tense set of his jaw, the hot glittering awareness in his blue eyes, the distention in the front of his pants.

“Come on before I do something extremely foolish.”

I’m sitting not a foot away from him but I have to strain my ears to hear him and he looks and sounds like a man hanging on to his control by a thread.

The tab of the zip is like soap in my shaky fingers. Zach brushes my hands aside and completes the task of zipping me all the way up. After he’s done, there’s another couple of seconds where neither of us moves, then we’re both moving at once, me off the bed and him toward the door.

In silence, he walks me to my room. He kisses me one more time at the door. Short, hard and sweet. I watch him head back toward his room. He looks back twice to find me still standing in the doorway. He doesn’t say goodnight and neither do I. I don’t have to because it’s already been the best one of my life.

C
HAPTER
E
IGHTEEN

ZACH

I’ve never been unsure of myself around girls. Maybe it’s because I grew up watching my brother pretty much have his way with any and all he chose. And being the younger brother of a pro football player doesn’t exactly work against me when it comes to getting girls. Being a football player doesn’t hurt either. My looks may play into the way they respond to me in the beginning, but as I know, having dated several beautiful girls, that can fade pretty damn quick.

But facing Olivia the day after what was definitely the best sex I’ve ever had has me…I don’t know, unsettled. I like her…a lot. More than I can remember liking any girl.

I’m standing in the lobby of the hotel and staring out at the city around me. This is Paris, the city of love as the saying goes. I guess it’s pretty easy to fall for her here of all places. I dismiss the voice inside me reminding me how much I liked her before the blowup.

“
Zach.”

I turn at Olivia calling my name. I spot her coming toward me and she’s wearing a shy smile, her face glowing. Today she’s covered up to the hilt, wearing a tan cowl neck sweater and a pair of dark-green pants that do incredible things to her legs and ass.

I swallow. “Hey,” I say when she reaches my side. I kiss her just the way I did at her door last night, as if it’s the most natural thing to do. Her response is immediate, which makes me feel ten feet tall. I break it off. The class is supposed to meet here for our trip to
Le Louvre
. A couple of the girls, whom I’ve already greeted, are milling over by the gift shop until the teacher and the others come down.

“
I-um-it’s supposed to be cold today.”

“
You look great.”

She laughs softly. “I wasn’t fishing.”

“
I know you weren’t but that doesn’t change the fact that you look good.”

Her face goes through three shades of pink.

“
Where’s Rebecca?”

“
Talking to her mom. She’ll be down in a few minutes. I figured she’d want some privacy to talk, ya know?”

I lean down and whisper in her ear, “Maybe she’ll give you a little privacy tonight?” Another round of blushing ensues but she doesn’t deny it.

~*~*~

We spend a good three hours at
Le Louvre
, most of my time spent with Olivia happily at my side. And by the way Mike is flirting with Rebecca, it’s clears he’s looking for a hookup but she doesn’t seem that into him. She comes across as more tolerant, laughing at his lame jokes, than anything else.

The five of us, me, Olivia, Mike, Rebecca and Bill grab a table together for lunch, and when Olivia and Rebecca go off to the restroom—or
la toilette
as they say in France—in pairs, that weird thing all females seem to do, Mike tips his chin toward them the second they’re out of earshot.

“
So what’s the deal with her?” he asks as if I’m now the expert on all things related to Olivia, including her friends.

“
How the hell should I know?”

Bill smirks. “Dude, you don’t stand a chance with her.”

Mike rounds on him as if he wants to fight. “Shut the fuck up. You don’t know shit.”

Bill laughs and throws his hands up, a gesture of surrender. “Whoa! Take it easy, big guy. I’m just fucking with you.”

Mike gives him the eye and then turns his attention back to me. “I mean, does she have a boyfriend?”

“
You spend the entire morning with her and you don’t ask her?” I swear, sometimes guys act just like girls.

“
If I ask her she’ll know I’m interested.”

I’m pretty sure a more moronic statement has never been made. My gaze shifts to Bill. We roll our eyes and say in unison, “Dude, she knows you’re interested.”

A slash of red stains Mike’s cheeks, his embarrassment written all over his face.

“
So what’s the deal with you and Olivia?” he asks, changing the subject. “I assume you’re doing the friends-with-benefits thing?”

I can’t tell if he’s just curious or if he’s trying to get a rise out of me so I play it cool. “We’re having a good time.”

He waits, expecting me to say more and when I don’t, he and Bill exchange a look of raised brows. What the hell does he expect, that I’m going to kiss and tell? Not likely. But then, he doesn’t know me that well.

“
For chrissake man, it’s not like I’m asking you if you’re doing her. It’s pretty obvious you are. Just wondering if you’re officially
a couple
,” he says with a chuckle, air-quoting the term. “That Jessica chick keeps asking about you and I’m not sure if I should tell her to hold on.”

“
Yeah, well tell her not to hold her breath,” I mutter.

“
Wow, I guess it’s serious then?” he asks, still probing.

“
It is what it is,” I snap, irritated. “Jeez man, get off my fucking jock. You’re like a girl.”

Except for his recent show of temperament regarding Rebecca, nothing seems to faze Mike, and he takes my insult with good humor.

When the girls return to the table, I’m still thinking about Mike’s “couple” remark. Since I first tried to break it off with Ashley, that’s one word that can make me squirm; like a collar that’s too tight or, more fittingly, a noose around my neck. I wasn’t lying when I said I’m just having a good time because for now that’s all I want.