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“You say that,” Cheryl says, “but I seem to remember a pretty enthusiastic ‘yes’ when Brent got down on one knee.”
I’m ready for Evie’s snarky comeback but it doesn’t come. To my horror, she just looks tired and upset. Sensing they’ve gained the upper hand, Brent and Cheryl stride away after the rest of the group, laughing to each other, before we can take it back.
“Room?” I ask Evie gently.
She nods once but then hesitates. “I don’t want to wait behind them in line,” she says.
“We have options,” I say.
“Oh yeah?” She still isn’t looking at me and sounds utterly miserable.
“Yeah. When was the last time you were in Paris?” I ask her.
Her eyes finally meet mine. “High school French trip,” she admits. “You?”
“I’ve been a couple times for work but never for pleasure.”
She snorts. “You call this pleasure?”
“It’s been shifting moment to moment,” I say. “But in this one? Absolutely.”
A current snaps in the air between us, a surging of the heart and a prickling of the skin. I know she feels it too; I can practically see the goosebumps. She rubs her arms despite the late spring warmth.
“It could take them a while,” I say. I jerk my head down the empty street. “I think the Seine is just south of here. Want to check it out?”
“I’d…” Evie looks up at the hotel, then back down the street. Our intimacy in the plane closet strained the bounds of appropriate workplace decorum. Midnight walks down the starry streets of Paris very well might burst the dam, sending all our barely suppressed desires cascading over us, washing us away to parts unknown.
Parts that could be very, very pleasurable.
Evie wavers until I say, softly, “It’s just a walk.”
It’s a lie. We both know it. But Evie accepts it as truth and nods her head. “Just a couple blocks,” she agrees.
“Just until we know they aren’t in the lobby.”
The dark streets bring me back to two nights ago, when Evie and I had walked through the East Village. Has it only been forty-eight hours since then? It’s felt like two years, a lifetime. With every moment that passes, I’m falling for her a little more, a little further. Soon I might tumble over the edge.
We don’t hold hands. We don’t even talk. I can only guess what’s racing through her mind, but I hope it’s close to my own thoughts. A taut anticipation has started in my toes and is crawling steadily higher.
The Seine isn’t far, really only a few blocks away. Evie squeaks with excitement when it appears at the end of the street and immediately starts walking quickly toward it. I trail only slightly behind her, watching her move, the curve of her ass in those damn blue sweatpants. God, this girl…
Across the street, at the railing, the view is magnificent. Dark water stretches in both directions and just across it shines the Eiffel Tower in all its iconic glory.
Evie leans on the railing and looks up at it in wonder. She turns just as I reach her, eyes bright.
“Nick…” she starts.
Before she can say another word I’m kissing her. Her breath hitches but she falls against me. Her lips are perfect, her tongue sweet. The smell of her is being injected into my veins. Her body pulsing against mine is finally satisfying that agonizing want that’s dogged me since the train.
I press her against the railing and let myself go. My self-control is gone, left behind somewhere in New York. I hardly recognize this wild, hungry man who’s taken over my body but he feels powerful, more powerful than I ever thought it was possible to feel. I tangle my hand in her wild hair, the other cups her ass, pulling us somehow closer together, the kiss deepening, the release the finest I’ve ever felt.
If I’d known this would feel so good, I would have thrown caution to the wind weeks ago.
Evie is the first to break the kiss, and when we part I stumble backward. It’s like I’ve broken from an electric current, leaving me stunned and blinking. She doesn’t look much different, staring up at me with wide eyes, like she’s not sure what happened or how.
“Holy shit,” I say low in the back of my throat. My cock is starting to strain out to her now, hungry too. Needing to be buried inside her.
“It was just supposed to be a walk.” The words are admonishing but she sounds like she’s talking more to herself than to me.
