I was still smiling over our unusual connection when I drifted off.
When I woke the next morning, he was gone. My hand went to the place where he'd been and found the sheets still warm. Before I could panic, he spoke, his soft voice coming from behind me.
“You've got to see this.”
I rolled over and saw him standing at his window. I wrapped a sheet around me as I climbed out of bed. He was fortunate that the window was high enough to prevent anyone from seeing that he was naked, but I had to cover myself. As I reached his side, he took a step back and pulled me in front of him, his arms curling around my waist.
I gasped. I didn't need to worry about anyone seeing us in the window; there was no one to see us. The entire city was covered with white. The streets of Fishtown were buried under several feet of snow. It was clean and white, pristine.
“The news is saying everything's shut down for the day,” he said as he kissed the top of my head. “No one's supposed to be out unless it's an emergency.”
“So,” I said slowly, leaning back into his warmth. “What you're saying is, I'm stuck here for who knows how long.”
“Seems like it.” He nuzzled my ear. “Oh, what will we do to pass the time?”
I reached behind me and found my prize already starting to swell. He gasped as I took him in hand. “I can think of a few things.”
We laughed and he nuzzled me, the heat of his breath against my neck. “I can think of dozens.”
As we returned to bed, the laughter shifted and became something equally as joyful. We didn't rush and we didn't second-guess. We had the day and we were going to make the most of it. Tomorrow would come and we'd face whatever it brought, but for right now, we were going to enjoy today.
Ten
As the first day of summer passed, I realized I'd been back in Philadelphia for almost a full year. Sometimes, it seemed like just yesterday that I'd returned for my high school reunion and my life had been turned upside-down. Or should I say, right-side-up. Other times, the memories of those days were so distant that they seemed like they'd happened to someone else. The one thing that never changed was that I was happier now than I'd been since my mom had gotten sick. Things weren't perfect, of course, but life was good.
Julien and I didn't spend much time with the high society types, but we were around enough, along with Anastascia, to keep up on the latest news. News such as the speedy dissolution of Britni and Reed's marriage, and her quick recovery with the heir to the McCord fortune. They announced their engagement at the beginning of June with plans for a spring wedding next year. I wondered if this was another business transaction, especially after Anastascia said she'd seen Britni's fiancé frequenting a couple of gay bars in the city, but I didn't dwell on it. That marriage wasn't my business.
The one aspect of Britni's family that was my business, however, ended up with a neat and tidy resolution. Brock was two months into an eighteen-month sentence for assault and would then be on probation for another three years with mandatory counseling and no alcohol. He probably would've gotten a lot worse if he'd gone to trial, but his victim preferred the plea over having to take the stand. I didn't really blame her. I could understand what she was going through. I would've testified if I'd been called, but I hadn't been looking forward to sharing everything with complete strangers. We'd heard rumors that the Michaels family had settled with the victim in the civil case as well, paying her medical bills on top of a nice chunk of money. I hoped she would be able to go somewhere new to rebuild her life.
It hadn't been just the Michaels who had kept me and Julien’s relationship from being the headline society news. Reed had left for Europe a week after he and I had talked, and two weeks later, Rebecca had been named head of the marketing department, Reed’s old position. Within three months, she'd messed it up so much that the shareholders had stepped in and forced Rebecca out to save the rest of the company. The Stirlings had been furious, but that had been small compared to what had happened next. Less than a month after Rebecca's humiliating departure from her family's company, she'd been caught in a compromising position with a married man. And not just any married man, but the father of one of her high society friends. From what Anastascia had heard, Rebecca reputation was beyond tarnished. Yeah, karma could be a real bitch.
As for Reed, he was still in Europe. He'd sent me a picture of him in front of the Eiffel Tower back in April and had told me he was doing well. He said he was grateful I'd had the guts to do what he couldn't. Julien had heard that Reed's parents were trying to get him to come back and run the rest of the family business after the Rebecca disaster, but Reed was hardly taking their calls. I was happy to see he was sticking with his decision to be his own man. I really did wish him all the best.
After all, it was thanks to him that I was currently standing backstage in one of Philadelphia's most beautiful theaters, getting ready to take part in my first official production. Granted, it was only the chorus line for a new version of Phantom of the Opera, but it was still a part I'd been personal chosen to play. This wasn't some sort of recital for the dancers from Madam Emilana's. This was a legitimate production, with auditions and casting.
My time at Madam Emilana's was going better than I ever dreamed. I hadn't been able to perform in The Nutcracker thanks to my ankle, but she'd set up a private audition for me with her friend. After getting cast as a chorus girl, I started my individual lessons with her in January. We decided to move away from a ballet focus into more modern styles of dance as I realized where I wanted to go. At her suggestion, I'd begun taking voice and acting lessons with a goal of being on Broadway—not just as a background dancer but as one of the stars. The producer of Phantom had already promised me at least a few auditions for his future shows. After this past week of rehearsals, he'd taken me aside and said he wanted me to try out for a lead in an original piece he was working on.
I took a deep breath and cleared my head. I couldn't afford to be thinking of all that, not when I had a show to perform right here, right now.
The music began and my body took over. I followed the other girls out onto the stage, smiling at the bright lights and the audience I couldn't see. Somewhere in that audience, I knew, was Julien. Anastascia was there too, probably sitting next to my boyfriend chatting about her crush on the young man who played Raoul. I danced for them, the people who'd supported me through everything. I danced for Reed and the kids from the wrong sides of the tracks who would also benefit from the grant he'd set up. I danced for my mom, who'd sacrificed so much but had never gotten to see my dream become real.
By the time intermission came, I knew with absolute certainty that this was what I wanted to do with my life. It had been an idea—a dream—before, but now I knew I wanted it to be a reality. It wouldn't be easy, but I felt certain I could do it, especially with Julien and Anastascia in my corner. When I went back onstage in the second act, it was with a new purpose, to show everyone in the audience what I could do.
After the curtain call, I headed toward the dressing room with the rest of the chorus girls only to be stopped by the producer.
“You were amazing!” he gushed. “Absolutely mesmerizing!”
“Thank you.” My face was flushed with gratitude.
“My understudy for Meg just informed me that she's pregnant.”
Pregnant? I held my breath.
“Her doctor told her that she's high-risk and not allowed to dance.” He handed me a script. “I want you to be the new understudy.”
I stared at him. Meg wasn't a leading role, but she was a supporting character and had a song with the lead. “I-I...” Words failed me.
“I'll take that as a yes and a thank you.”
“Yes!” I blurted out. “And thank you!”
He beamed at me. “Excellent! We'll discuss more details on Monday during rehearsal. Enjoy the rest of your night.”
I was practically walking on air as I made my way through the chaotic backstage, smiling and exchangin
g compliments as I went. I barely registered a single face until I saw him standing outside the dressing room door.
Julien set the large bouquet of white roses down on a nearby chair as he embraced me, holding me tight.
“You were amazing,” he said. “I couldn’t take my eyes of you.”
His hands slid over the rough lace of my costume, heat blazing through the thin fabric. I shivered.
“Thank you.” I kissed his cheek. “And the roses are beautiful.”
He released me and reached into his pocket. “And they're not your only gift.”
I wasn't sure which I wanted to do first, share my news or open the present. Then I saw the way Julien's eyes were shining and decided the gift would come first. It was a small, flat box without any writing to tell me where it was from. I was still trying to decide if it was earrings or a necklace when I opened and saw it was neither.
A key.
I looked up at him, puzzled. I already had a key to his loft; he'd told me to keep his extra one when he'd asked me to run back to pick up something for a dinner at Anastascia's.
“A key to your loft?”
He picked up the key and showed me the ribbon he had tied through it.
I read the words written on the bit of lace. “'To my heart and our home.'” I stared at the words. “'Our'?”
“I want you to move in with me.” He tucked a few escaping tendrils of hair behind my ear. “I don't like us having to figure out whose place we're going to or thinking about whether or not we're spending the night. I want us to be together all the time. I want a home. With you.”
Tears welled in my eyes and I couldn't speak around the lump in my throat. He looked at me expectantly, wanting an answer I couldn't voice. Sometimes words aren’t necessary and I did the next best thing. I threw my arms around him and pressed my lips against his. The tears spilled over as we kissed and I could taste the salt on my tongue, but it wasn't bitter. These were tears of joy. After years of never knowing where I belonged, I finally had a home. My heart swelled with love and I moved my mouth to his ear.
“Take me home.”
He smiled down at me. “Gladly.”
- The End -
Turn the page to start reading the bonus books.
Bonus Book 2: Exotic Desires Vol. 1
One
Reed
Paris, France.
I'd arrived three days ago, coming by way of London, Glasgow, Vienna, and Rome, as well as Moscow and Berlin. None of these places were like home and I was grateful for that.
Home.
I ran my hand through my hair, ignoring the appreciative looks from the women in the café. I knew I was good-looking. I wasn't conceited, just honest. That was one of the vows I'd made to myself when I left Philadelphia a couple months ago. No more lies. Lies were the reason I'd been traveling around Europe, wearing out my welcome with various college friends. If I'd just been honest back then, with her, things might've turned out different.
I shook my head and drained the last of my drink. I didn't want to think about Piper Black. After all, the entire point of coming to Europe was to get away from her. I managed a wry smile. Another lie. It wasn't just Piper I was running from, the same way it wasn't her who'd made me turn my entire life upside-down. She'd just been the catalyst who had started the whole damn thing.
I looked across the street to where the Eiffel Tower stood and took a moment to enjoy the regal landmark. I tossed a few bills onto the table and stood up. I hadn't been over to see it yet. I'd been a little more interested in the Paris nightlife than the city’s history. After all, I was twenty-seven, far from an old man, and I'd spent the last five years of my life concerned more about work, about doing what my family expected of me. My little tour of Europe was my time to have fun.
I looked up at the tower and then around. After dismissing a few possibilities, I found exactly who I was looking for. Putting on my most charming smile, I approached her.
“Bonjour. Voulez-vous me prendre en photo?” I held up my phone.
“American?”
Her accent was thick, but I was more interested in how her long brown hair would look spread across my hotel bedspread or the way her curves would feel under my hands.
“Yes.” I pulled my thoughts to the present. “I'm Reed.”
“Monique.” She flashed teeth too straight to have been completely natural. The nose was a little too perfect too. My eyes flicked down to her ample breasts. Probably fake as well.
“Would you take my picture, Monique?”
“Of course.” She took my phone, letting her fingers brush, then linger against mine.
I smiled at her as she snapped a shot of me with the tower in the background. When she handed me back the phone, I winked at her and, on a whim, sent the picture to Piper. I'd been keeping her updated on my trip. Well, more or less. Things hadn't exactly ended badly in the angry sense, just me being hurt. I wanted to let her know that I was okay. And I was okay...sort of.
“You are here alone?” Monique asked, her voice as erotic and soft as the finger she ran up my arm.
I was about to be very okay.
Monique’s big brown eyes widened when she saw the hotel where I was staying, but she didn't seem overwhelmed. I'd definitely chosen well. I had no problem with Europeans who were enamored with Americans. What I didn't need was someone looking for money and a green card. Monique might not be Stirling rich, but she dressed well enough to let me know she wouldn't be coming after me for some big payday. There were too many women who thought they'd fuck me and I'd take care of them for life. Or the ones who tried to do things like get pregnant or some shit like that. Finding a random hook-up was getting to be as complicated as having a relationship.
Not that I'd really know. Pretty much all of my relationships had been shit.
“Reed?”
“Come on, ma chérie.” I slid my arm around her waist and pulled her towards the elevator. “You're going to love the view.”
As soon as the elevator doors closed, she was on me. Her mouth was firm, no hint of hesitation. Definitely something I liked about European women, especially the French. If they wanted someone, they went for it. I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her even more tightly against me. She moaned and nipped at my bottom lip. I dropped my hand lower and squeezed her ass. If she was half as good in bed as she was at kissing, this was going to be fun. And probably just what I needed.
The door to my room had barely shut behind us and she was already unzipping her dress. I lost my shoes and started unbuttoning my shirt while I watched her slowly shimmy out of the confining material. I let out a low whistle. She looked even better out of the dress than she had in it.
“In case you are wondering.” She ran her hands over her flat stomach and up to cup the crimson silk holding her breasts. “They are real.”
Had I misjudged her? Could she really be this perfect?
She reached behind her and unhooked her bra, releasing a pair of the most magnificent breasts I'd ever seen. Easily a D-cup. She smiled at me as she hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her matching silk panties. She slowly lowered them, revealing something I'd come to learn about French women. They were as diverse as Americans when it came to their grooming habits.
“You like what you see?” she asked, running her fingers over her bare pussy.
I closed the distance between us in two quick steps and covered her mouth. My tongue pushed at her lips and they parted. I ran my hands over her back and down to that firm ass as I explored every crevice of her mouth. She tasted like coffee and expensive chocolate.
Her hands found their way under my shirt, palms burning against my skin. When her nails scraped over my nipples, I moaned and felt her smile. She broke the kiss and pushed my shirt from my shoulders.
“Magnifique.” She lowered her head and flicked her tongue against my nipple. She looked up at me through those thick eyelashes, gave me one of the most wicked grins I'd seen in a long time, and bit d
own.
“Shit!” I buried my hand in her hair as she worked her mouth across my chest, biting and licking until my cock was pressed painfully against my zipper. I'd barely spent a night alone since coming to Europe, but the last couple ones had been rather passive and I was starting to get bored. I'd definitely picked a good one today.
“Let us see what you have to offer.” She went to her knees in front of me, her hands at my waist, making short work of my pants. Her dark eyes brightened as she lowered my pants and saw the bulge at the front of my underwear. “Très bon.”
“Like what you see?” I grinned down at her.
“Very much.” She curled her fingers under the waistband of boxer-briefs and yanked them down.
My cock jutted out in front of me, thick and hard, eager for attention. Monique reached around and grabbed my ass, nails digging into the muscle as she wrapped her lips around the head of my cock. I groaned as she circled the tip with her tongue, then took me deeper. Her mouth was wet and hot as she took me all the way to the root, her lips stretched wide around me.
“Fuck!” My hands curled into fists. Damn, she knew what she was doing.
One hand released my ass and came around to cup my balls. She rolled them as she bobbed her head, taking my cock all the way into her mouth and down her throat each time. A lot of women gave head because they thought it was expected or that it was the best way to get a man going. Then there were women like Monique, ones that obviously enjoyed it. Or were at least enthusiastic about it.
“Ma chérie.” My voice was strained. “That's enough.”
The hand on my ass flexed, nails digging in, giving me a bite of pain to go with the pleasure. Then I was sliding from her mouth, my cock swollen and glistening. I held out my hand to her and she took it, letting me help her to her feet. It was then that I noticed she was still wearing her heels. Heels and nothing else. Fuck, that was hot.