Page 53 of One Week in Paris
“But what?”
“I was thinking about you, and when I opened my eyes, there you were, watching.” He presses his mouth against my collarbone. “It was so fucking hot.”
“Take me to the washroom,” I beg.
He doesn’t hesitate for a second. He grabs my hand and pulls me down the hall to the washroom. He locks the door as soon as we’re in.
He hikes me up on top of the wide sink counter. I spread my legs for him, and it takes me about three seconds to pull him out of his pants. He bites my bottom lip as he peels off my panties. They’re left dangling on my left ankle. He quickly slips on a condom and I wrap my legs around him. I throw my head back against the mirror as he sinks inside me. I grip the cold edge of the counter as he pushes into me hard.
He pulls my hair. “I want to make you come so hard,” he breathes. “I want to hear you scream.”
“Yes…” I’m breathless, lost in the sensation of him. “Yes…” I feel myself climbing slowly to the edge. There is no one here but the two of us. I get completely lost in him.
When it hits me, a series of moans escape me. And when he gets off too, he muffles his loud groans into my shoulder.
Two minutes, if that. That’s how long it takes to get off with Oscar. I’m glad those two minutes were mine, and not Sophie’s. “You’re mine,” I tell him.
“Am I?” he says. “Are we exclusive now?”
“Uh….” I hesitate, completely caught off guard.
“If we’re not, I’m seeing Sophie this week.”
“Asshole,” I sneer. “You’re still inside me, you dick.”
He pulls out of me, and turns from me, peels off his rubber. This moment is so not sexy. “This was a mistake,” I tell him. I’m pissed, like I haven’t been in a very, very long time.
He turns back to me, eyes dark. “Was it?”
“We should just call this whole thing off,” I say. “You do whatever the heck you want with Sophie, and I’ll go out with Matt.”
Anger slowly traces the curves of his features. “Oh, so you want to fuck your brother now? He’s your prince charming, right? He used to be your worst enemy, and now you’re ready to marry the jerk. Well, he is what every woman wants, isn’t he? He has the money, the good job, the nice suits. Maybe you’ll be willing to commit to him. He’s good enough. But me, I’m just a barista. Why waste your time on me? I’m just for fun, aren’t I?”
“No…” I’m at a loss for words. He’s rendered me completely speechless. I had no idea he felt that way.
A knock on the door startles us. “Oh crap…” I whisper. Whoever it is, will see that we’ve been naughty. God, I hope it’s not Antoine. I quickly go through all the people at the party. Corrie… couldn’t care less. Mom… she would give me a little speech about inappropriate behavior but I’d survive. Mark… slightly embarrassing, but really don’t care what he thinks. Antoine… total shame. Lucie, mildly embarrassing. Nicole… wouldn’t care either. Sophie… that would be fantastic.
When Oscar opens the door, Lucie shoots us an impish smile. She’s not stupid. She knows what we’ve been up to. I walk out of the washroom, my head down in shame. Thank God, it wasn’t Antoine.
Corrie scurries up to me. “Where were you?” she asks. “Mark and Nicole are missing,” she whispers.
“I know… I was just looking for them.”
It’s getting late, and everyone seems a little deflated. Even the beautiful Sophie is yawning. “I wonder what’s keeping Mark so long,” Mom says. “He said he was running out to the store for a pack of gum.”
Lamest excuse ever. No one else seems to have noticed that Nicole is missing too. The intercom buzzes. “Speak of the devil,” Mom says, cheerful. “That’s probably Mark.”
Sure enough, it’s Mark. And not five minutes later, Nicole comes back, and tells everyone she had a little too much to drink and needed some air.
I scurry up to her as soon as I get the chance. “Where were you?” I ask quietly.
She looks completely disheveled. “Um.. how do you say? ‘Making out’ in the park with Mark,” she tells me with a mischievous smile.
“You were supposed to do that here,” I scold her. “So I could take a picture.”
She shakes her head in disbelief. “Mark would never… not here. Men like him are not stupid, Kayla. We went to the park. I texted you. Three times. You did not get my texts?”
I pull my phone out of my pocket, and sure enough, it’s dead.
Great.
Oscar is still chatting up Sophie. I want to throw one of Antoine’s fancy candle holders at their heads. But I’m sure he would not appreciate me assaulting his daughter. “Well, we should probably get going,” I announce loudly. “It’s getting late and we wouldn’t want to overstay our welcome.”
Hugs all around, goodbyes and thank-yous. Sophie seems sad to let Oscar go. And Antoine appears downright devastated to see my mother leave. All in all, it was a nice evening with locals in Paris. I just wished I could have caught Mark in the act. And I also wish Sophie were a lesbian.
But as the Rolling Stones song goes,You can’t always get what you want, but if you try sometimes you find, you get what you need.
