Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 74220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
I met Oscar at the restaurant.
We were surrounded by regular people having dinner, unaware of the dangerous men sitting in the center of the room, having wine like civilized people when we were anything but civilized.
Oscar didn’t say a word, staring me down like he wanted me to get straight to the point because that was all he cared about.
We hadn’t even ordered yet.
“So?”
I gave a quiet sigh. “He wouldn’t see reason.”
His eyes narrowed, and he gave a slight nod in understanding.
“Give me some time, and I’ll try again—”
“No more time, Bastien. He’s insulted the Republic of France long enough.”
Chapter 14
Fleur
I hated my apartment.
Not because it wasn’t a three-story villa with a staff of servants—but because Bastien didn’t live there. He’d mentioned once that I could live with him, but I didn’t think he was serious. It was way too soon for that anyway. I had to remind myself over and over that we’d only been together a few months, not a few years.
I threw together dinner in my tiny kitchen, watched some TV on the couch, and then went to bed in preparation to start the day over tomorrow. The curtains were drawn closed over the windows, but light from the nearby buildings crept in anyway.
In Bastien’s bedroom, he had no neighbors because the Seine was directly in front of him, so only the light from the Eiffel Tower was visible—and I didn’t mind that light one bit.
It was also colder in my apartment, and no matter how high I cranked the thermostat, it couldn’t replace the warmth of Bastien’s body beside mine. His big hands on my flesh. His hot chest against my back. The sheets were always cold because there was no heat to absorb.
I lay there on my side and tried to sleep, but then it started to rain. Having a loft apartment meant I could hear everything on the roof in detail, and the rainfall was like a thousand hooves from a stampede of wild horses. I loved the rain and didn’t mind the sound, but it made me think of Bastien…and made me miss him like crazy. There were mornings we lay in bed together and watched the rain hit the window. Nights when he kissed me in it after dinner. Times when he would come over and his shirt would be slightly damp because he’d walked in the rain as if he didn’t care if he got wet. There were times Adrien had come home and he'd smelled like a woman’s perfume or cigarettes, but I’d just assumed it was a crowded room, that the guys had brought their girls. But Bastien only smelled like the rain…and nothing else.
My front door opened and closed down the hall.
I stilled in bed, at first feeling a jolt of fear at the thought of a burglar, but then I realized it wasn’t a forced entry. Someone had let themselves into my apartment like they had every right to be there.
Heavy footsteps were audible on the hardwood floor as he moved down the hall and entered my bedroom. He was a shadow at first, but then he stepped into the strip of light that came through the slit in the curtains. Dressed in all black, his eyes brilliant even in the dark, he looked at me where I lay on the bed.
After a long stare, he undressed, pulling his long-sleeved shirt over his head and dropping his boots and bottoms. Then he crawled up the bed and moved over me.
My arms immediately encircled him and brought him close, my ankles hooking at the top of his ass.
He slid his hand into my hair, and he stared at me hard, his eyes absorbing my look with subtle desperation. He grazed his thumb over my cheek, tracing my bottom lip and the corner of my mouth.
I’d lain there missing him, and now that he was here, my heart ached in the most painful way. Like the emotion of having him there was somehow worse than the pain of missing him. “I missed you, babe.”
His thumb halted mid-stroke, and his brilliant eyes locked on mine like his heart had skipped a beat. He possessed me with his stare before he cradled the back of my head and kissed me hard and slow, his lips moving with purpose, his fingers digging deep into my hair to get an iron grip. He made me feel like his without saying a word, just by gripping me and kissing me. The cold in the sheets was dispelled by his brilliant sun, and the longing in my heart was smothered by his masculine affection.
He reached for my panties and started to pull them off, letting me unhook my ankles from around his waist so he could remove them the rest of the way. He left my shirt on but shoved it up to expose my tits before he squeezed between my soft thighs again. He tilted my hips before he sank inside me, giving the sexiest moan when he felt me, like he wasn’t skipping around town fucking all the women who made passes at him when I wasn’t around. I was the only woman he bedded, and when he was in the mood, he came to my apartment in the middle of the night because I was the only one he wanted.