Air filled my lungs with one short, sharp inhale, and I fell into him. The Post-its scattered on the floor around us, but I didn’t care. All I cared about was burying my face into the chest of this man I’ve loved since I knew what love was and wondering what the fucking hell I was going to do.
I clinged to the back of his robe. “Why didn’t I find them? Why?”
“I wanted you to look,” he whispered into my neck. “I wanted you to look for something that was so glaringly obvious to me. Something you were oblivious to.”
“How was I supposed to find them if I never knew?”
“I don’t know. Jesus.” He cupped the back of my head. “I’ve done a whole lot of fucking hoping since you walked into that goddamn booth, Gina. I hoped every morning you’d find them, and when each night you hadn’t,
“Here,” he said and bent down.I frowned at him from the end of the bridge. There was no way he could find it. There was absolutely no fucking way he knew where it was.“Here,” he repeated with more conviction, a padlock in his hands. He turned to face me. “It’s here.”“There are thousands on padlocks on this bridge. You honestly think I believe you know the exact place ours is?”“Twenty-eight steps in, roughly.”“Are you kidding me?”“Kind of halfway down because you had a freak-out about it not being even.”“I don’t believe you.”“Silver and gold. We scratched our initials in with a penknife we found in my suite.”So much emotion rose in me at that memory. The moment I realized forever would never happen with the guy I loved
I was laughing as I danced, but I was more aware of him that anything I was doing or feeling. I was more conscious of the way he was fiddling with the cufflink at his right wrist, the way his lips were curved into a wanting smirk, and the way his eyes shamelessly roamed over my body. More than that, more than all three things put together, I was aware of the gradual darkening of the blue hue of his irises. I was aware of the building lust and need and raw sexuality that swirled in them, reaching out to me and surrounding me.And they did. Surround me. Completely and utterly.My body heated to an unimaginable level, and every part of me begged to be touched by him. Tingles, tugs, wanting trembles… They overtook me again and again, leaving my skin covered in goose bumps and my heart pounding.Then his eyes met mine. They finished their visual caress of my body an
The tension kept me going. George stroked himself slowly as I rubbed circles around my clit, sliding my fingers down and dipping them inside myself. “Fuck, Gina. If you had any idea how you look right now…” The rawness of his voice made my eyelids flutter shut. “Tell me. Tell me what you see right now, standing in front of me while I touch myself for you.” “You look like perfection. You’re sexy in the rawest way, and it drives me fucking crazy. I can see how wet you are, can see it on your fingers each time you slide them back out of your gorgeous cunt. And knowing I did that makes me the smuggest son of a bitch in this city.” I fought the buck of my hips and the pressure from the quickly building orgasm. “And you?” I asked hoarsely. “Hard, baby. I’m rock solid and it’s all because of you. All for you.” The bed creaked and dipped as he moved forwa
I stabbed a piece of lettuce with a force it didn’t deserve. “Merde,” I muttered.George smirked. “Most know bonjour as their primarily used French word. Of course my woman knows merde.”“You taught me it.” I chewed slowly. “It’s an easy word to remember.”I placed my fork down beside my plate and ignored his lowered chuckle. My eyes scoured the view outside our window until they fell on the familiar shape of the Louvre. My heart skipped a beat. My favorite place in the world.“I know what you’re looking at.”“Please,” I asked without taking my eyes from it. “I promise it’ll be the only time I’ll make you come with me.”He grinned and waved at a waiter for the bill. “I was waiting for you to ask.”Excitement built, and I smiled at him
“What if we had plans?” I stepped away and raised an eyebrow.“We did.” He sighed heavily and leaned against the counter. “Now we have new ones. Believe me. I’m not happy about it, Gina.”“Can’t you just explain you’re not working this week? That this is a vacation?”“No.”“Well, who is it?”“Who?”I clicked my tongue. “The person organizing it.”“Oh. No one important. I’m not sure they’ll even be there.” He turned away and poured a cup of coffee.“George.”“Leave it, Gina.”Ass. I placed my mug down with a little too much force and stormed into the bedroom. There wasn’t a chance in hell I was going to stay in the room with him in a mood like this.
I jumped away from him as if his touch was burning me. And it was. So were his words.Did he…Was that…“Wife?”There was no mistaking the accusatory tone in my whisper or the way my hands were now clasped against my stomach, shaking frantically. Holy fucking hell.“Yes.”I felt sick.I clapped my hand over my mouth and turned away from him. Betrayal sliced through my body, leaving no part untouched by the overwhelming sting.“She’s my ex-wife, actually. We’d be divorced if she didn’t keep stalling on the agreement.”“You’re still married. She’s still your wife.” Oh God.“We’ve been separated for two years.”I shook my head. Bile was rising up my throat. I fought to swallow it back down, to kill the sick
I accepted that. I had to. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have this job. I’d be flipping burgers or smiling politely at snobby women in a high-end boutique somewhere.I hid. I pretended. I lied.My life was a lie.It wa full of cheating and things that meant nothing.I always lived for the other side of it. When I was Gina, I wished I could be Christy—confident and outgoing and out there. When I was Christy, I wished I could be Gina—curled up in my pajamas with a tub of ice cream in front of the television, laughing with my best friend.Either way, I was not completely happy.The last few weeks had changed that. Being with George again reminded me of everything I’d left behind. He reminded me what it is to look into the eyes of someone who cares and smile. What it is to feel red-hot desire rushing through your veins and to feel that desi
START OF THE CALL GIRL BOOK 2.You know life has taken a shit turn when your underwear doesn’t match.And the quality of that underwear is a guide to measure the shitness on.Me? I was pretty sure I had a hole on the waistband of these boy shorts, so, yeah. My life was at Epically Fucked with a heavy dose of Heartbreak Hell on the life quality guide.But what can you do?Tuck your change from the cashier into the pocket of your sweatpants and grab your ice cream—that’s what.I got into my car, my ice cream snug on the passenger’s seat, and pulled away from the store. Tonight was my final night of the allotted seven-day mourning period after the breakdown of a relationship, so basically, it was my last chance to be a miserable bitch in public. Okay, so I added a couple of days onto the mourning period, but whatever. I plannn
