Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 91887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
I apply a touch of make-up. A dab of brown eye shadow, a swipe of mascara, a hint of neutral lip color. It’s a ritual. Just me grounding myself, pretending everything is normal.
Once I’m ready, I grab my cell phone to call Axel and see where he is. I scroll, thumb hovering over the screen, but before I can press dial, the door opens quietly, and Axel steps in, holding two steaming cups of takeaway coffee. The smell of the coffee is rich and warm, and beneath that is a smell that is deliciously, overwhelmingly him. My pulse leaps.
“You’re up,” he says, his green eyes catching mine, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I didn’t want to wake you.”
“Where did you go?” My voice is soft, a mix of curiosity and something else, something I’m not quite ready to name.
He steps closer to me. “I wanted to make a call. To the dealer. I needed to set up an appointment without disturbing you.” He hands me one of the cups. I put my cell phone down and take the cup. The heat seeps into my fingers. “I called him. Told him I was interested in some art, just casual, you know. Unfortunately …” He hesitates for a fraction of a second. “… He’s out of town for the next two days. The appointment is set, but it’s not until Monday morning.”
I laugh, a bright, musical sound that surprises even me. “That’s not unfortunate at all,” I say. “We’re in Paris, Axel. There’s plenty to do before chasing down corrupt dealers.”
He raises a brow, a faint smirk playing across his lips. “Is that so?”
“Yes.” I take a slow sip of the coffee, letting the warmth and aroma flow languidly through me. “We’ve got an entire city at our fingertips, but today, we must go to the Louvre. Please.”
He chuckles softly, watching me with amusement. “Must? The Louvre?”
I nod, leaning against the edge of the dresser, tracing the rim of the cup with my thumb. “Must. The Louvre.”
I know he is going to agree, but he pretends to consider.
“It’s iconic. I’ve wanted to go since I was a kid. It’s a museum of dreams, Axel. You can’t just come to Paris and walk past it.”
He tilts his head and gives me that calculating, teasing look I am coming to know too well. “You know, you’re insatiable when it comes to art.”
I mock gasp, playful and unrepentant. “Insatiable? Me? Never.”
“I beg to differ,” he says, and the way he looks at me tells me that he’s no longer talking about my love of art.
I blush slightly under his blazing gaze and his smile becomes wider. Then, he reaches into his pocket and pulls something out. He unfolds his fingers, revealing two tickets. “Ah well, would you look at that. Two tickets for the Louvre.”
I blink in surprise, then laugh, delight spilling out of me. “You knew I’d want to go?”
He shrugs and his expression is dry. “It wasn’t exactly a huge leap of the imagination.”
His beautiful green eyes hold mine, and I feel a rush of heat low down in my belly. My pussy becomes wet just thinking of what we could do if we stayed in instead. I feel that same pull, that same tension from last night flickering in the air between us, and I know if we don’t move soon, the Louvre won’t be happening. We will be making our own entertainment, and maybe that will be just as fun as that sounds.
“Stop, Jezebel,” Alex says sternly.
With a laugh, I set my coffee down and take a step closer to Axel, unable to hide the grin spreading across my face. “No one’s called me Jezebel before.
His eyes glint. “I can’t believe that. Your mouth alone qualifies you.”
“So are we tearing up the tickets?”
“Nope, but consider your body mine to do with as I please tonight.”
“Well,” I say. “That will make today officially perfect.”
He smiles, that faint, wolfish grin that makes my chest tighten, and he lifts his cup in a mock toast.
“To Paris. To art. To the Louvre and every fucking thing that comes after it.”
For a moment, the city outside the window doesn’t exist. There’s just us, in a cheap hotel room, a faint hint of coffee, the morning light, and the electric pulse of something new vibrating between us. Something that threatens to become as necessary as oxygen for me.
“Ready?” Axel asks.
And I nod. Yeah, I’m ready. I’m ready to go and ready for more.
Chapter
Twenty-One
JO
The streets of Paris hum with life, and the air is crisp and golden in the morning sun. I can barely contain my excitement as Axel leads the way from the hotel, our steps quickening the closer we get. My bag bounces against my hip, in the thrill of anticipation. The Louvre rises before us, grand and imposing, its glass pyramid glinting in the light like a promise.