Page 52 of Frenched (Frenched 1)
“Ha. You got that right. Before this week, I’d say there wasn’t a spontaneous bone in my body.”
“I’ll put a spontaneous bone in your body.”
I shot him a scornful look, although his comment turned me on. “Very funny. Where is Vaucluse anyway?”
“It’s in Provence. And don’t worry, everything is casual there. You might want to bring a dress for the party Saturday night, but don’t—”
“Lucas!” I grabbed his arm. “I didn’t even think about that! God, I’m totally unprepared for a trip to Provence! I don’t have the right clothes at all.”
He rolled his eyes. “Mia, if you want to go home and make a new outfit calendar right now, that’s your prerogative. But.” He pulled me to him again and slipped a hand underneath my loose top, then slid his fingers beneath the strap of my bra. “I can think of many other things I’d rather do tonight. Want to sleep over?”
I closed my eyes. “Yes. Because I do, in fact, have the perfect outfit for that.”
#
“I cannot believe how many times I’ve had sex in the last twenty-four hours.” Clad in a soft t-shirt and a pair of boxers from Lucas’s drawers, I took the new toothbrush he’d found for me out of the package and rinsed it. “It is nearly inconceivable.”
“Is that good or bad? Here.” Lucas squirted some toothpaste on my toothbrush and then his own.
“It’s good,” I said. “So, so good.”
“Glad to hear it.”
We brushed, rinsed and spit standing side by side at his bathroom sink and Lucas stood my toothbrush next to his in the holder. This is too much, too private and cozy. I feel too close to him. But I tried to play it off.
“Maybe it’s a good thing that we’ll have to slow down when we go to your family’s place,” I said, getting into bed. “I’m beginning to think I’m a fiend.”
We’d done it twice since we got home from dinner—on the couch again (at my request) and on his bedroom floor. I was amazed at Lucas’s ability to recover and do it again so soon.
“What do you mean, slow down? I’m not slowing down.” Lucas gave me a horrified look and snapped off the bedside light.
I watched him slide under the covers next to me in the moonlight. “We have to.” I propped my head in one hand. “We can’t be bonking like bunnies at the Count’s castle or whatever.” I threw my other hand in the air. “It’s uncouth!”
Lucas laughed. “Come here. I promise,” he said as I snuggled into him, “that the house is very big, and the grounds are enormous. We’ll find a way to be alone. There will be no slowing down.”
I kissed him before rolling over, putting my back to his front, and he curled an arm around my waist. It felt absurdly comfortable and almost foreign to me. Tucker wasn’t really a cuddler. Or a go-again-right-after kind of guy. And due to his aversion to bodily fluids, we’d almost never done it without a condom.
Even then, it had never felt like it had with Lucas in the shower.
Ever.
I wanted to do it again. I chewed my lower lip.
Well, you can’t do it again. It makes you think crazy things.
But was this crazy? Maybe normal people did this all the time and I just never knew it. I mean, I’d heard of vacation sex with near strangers, summer loves that you never heard from again, torrid one-night-stands…I’d just never indulged in them. I wondered if Lucas had.
I sucked both lips between my teeth to prevent myself from asking. Did I really want to know? I was torn—what if I wasn’t special?
Don’t ask, don’t ask, don’t ask.
But I asked. Of course I did.
“Lucas?”
“Hmm?” His voice was already sleepy.
“Have you ever done this before?”
