Page 28 of Love Spell (Witches of London #3)
They reached the tower in good time and Noah was again wide-eyed with his own delight at every aspect of the tower, the city, the view, phone in hand for piles of photos.
Would he post Paris on his disused Instagram account?
The one that went all black and white and impersonal many years ago?
Would Timo ever ask him about it? Admit to hunting for Noah online?
Didn’t everyone do that these days? If Noah didn’t want his collection of old photos seen, he didn’t have to leave the account public.
When they got their champagne, Timo toasted, looking into Noah’s eyes, “To immigrants.” And Noah grinned in return.
Later, with twilight settling, time to go, Timo stood with his arms around Noah, both facing the glass while the crowd thinned, everyone melting back to the lift with the last hint of sunlight.
Again, Timo longed for more, imagining fucking Noah at the top of the tower while the iconic lights blazed outside. He only kissed Noah’s neck and stood still until Noah was ready to go.
Holding his hand quite naturally, Timo led him across the bridge, pausing many times while Noah wanted more pictures of the tower lit up at night, then through the park, Jardin des Tuileries.
People remained here, dog walkers and tourists admiring the lights and waterfront on a Saturday night, though it would soon close. It was proper dark by then, Noah’s hot hand in his growing more distracting while Timo wondered if he dared push Noah, then wondered when he’d become such a doormat.
It wasn’t that he was afraid of Noah rejecting him.
He was quite used to that and, like Timo’s hopeful advances on the train, one never knew until trying.
It was always worth trying. No, it was that he didn’t want to upset Noah.
Increasingly it was dawning on Timo that Noah didn’t find Timo’s public advances charming or beguiling and that when Noah acted as if he was angry with Timo, he was, in fact, angry with Timo.
Unused to having to consider another’s feelings before deciding his own actions, much less placing those feelings above his own desires, Timo found the sensation disorienting. He couldn’t not be himself. If Noah didn’t like that, he could just — But no. If Noah didn’t like that, it was a problem.
Why was he doubting himself? The train was entirely different and Noah was in a great mood and it was dark and they’d both had a few drinks.
It was always worth a shot. If Noah said no, fine.
Timo was being ridiculous to think he had to change his whole personality just because Noah occasionally couldn’t understand where Timo was coming from and occasionally found Timo frustrating.
Without conflict, where was the spice in the relationship?
What if Noah didn’t like spice?
Then Timo must expand his palate. Nothing wrong with trying something new, for both of them.
Timo stopped Noah on the dark trail between lampposts to kiss him. Noah returned it and Timo’s heartbeat quickened with the unexpected rush. Noah’s mouth still tasted of champagne and he leaned into Timo with no trace of the self-consciousness he’d shown on the train.
“Let’s do a river cruise along with a walking tour,” Noah said.
“I don’t think they run this late.”
“Tomorrow.” Noah laughed.
Timo touched his face, looking into his eyes, studying his features. Noah shied away, then seemed to catch himself, or the alcohol calmed him. Either way, he turned back, let Timo stroke his jaw with the backs of fingers, turned his own head to kiss Timo’s hand.
“Let’s get back to the room,” Noah murmured and started away.
Timo almost counter-offered with, “Why wait?” But also stopped himself. Don’t make this a negotiation.
They wove through wide, gritty paths and trees, stopping often for another kiss, then more, leaning in tight, Noah responding to him but meaning to keep walking.
Three times Timo let him go on, Timo whispering that he’d had the most marvellous day of his life with Noah, Noah flushed, pulling back.
The park was emptying. Still very much exposed with its neat rows of trees and paths as wide as roads, with few nooks where lamplight didn’t reach. They were running out of time, nearing the far side of the park, when Timo spotted the hedges between the main boulevard and the école du Louvre.
He pulled Noah through, finding himself in something of a hedge maze, and this time didn’t hold back.
They explored a kiss to its fullest depths and Noah didn’t say no.
They felt over one another’s bodies with inquisitive fingers and Noah didn’t say no.
Timo opened his own trousers, guided Noah’s hand down the front, and still Noah didn’t say no.
So it wasn’t Timo changing: it was Noah. Hugely relieved in more ways than one, Timo got Noah’s trousers down before shoving him to the grass, staying with him while Noah also didn’t let go.
“We don’t have —”
“Pockets. I’m always prepared.”
“What about —?”
“In my pocket.”
“Really?”
Noah found the tiny tube and again started laughing, not apparently concerned by the noise they were making.
“That is the cutest thing.”
“Care to use it?” Timo was already rolling the rubber down his eagerly waiting cock.
“This is the champagne talking, but yeah, I wouldn’t mind.”
Timo didn’t care who it was talking, as long as it was Noah pressed up against him.
Entering Noah again after last night, now with him more than buzzed and more than ready, was a whole new bliss. He’d never had a man on the streets of Paris, and the hedges counted just as much.
Noah must be as tantalised by the idea because he responded in a way he hadn’t last night; actively wanting more, loose enough to say Timo’s name when he should have kept quiet under the circumstances.
Timo likewise didn’t care if they were found or seen or bloody well arrested.
Having Noah outside, all but begging for more, Timo fucking him with the taste of Noah’s tongue still in his mouth, was his fantasy manifest and nothing else mattered.
He clenched his teeth as he started to come, still aware that he should keep quiet, then gave way to narrating his pleasure to Noah, who answered him just as breathlessly.
“Finish me, Timo, please,” Noah panted, fumbling for Timo’s hand to guide. “While you’re still in me.”
Timo thrust and stroked Noah to climax while still riding the aftershocks of his own release, making both that much sharper. Even after, they lingered when they shouldn’t have, when voices passed them feet away on the other side of the hedge and the park gates would be closing any minute.
It took them much longer than it should have to find the hotel, leaning on one another, stopping often to kiss, then another spot of trouble when neither could locate the door into their room.
It was Noah who concluded that they were on the wrong floor and Timo who ultimately found the door, which both found hilarious.
Timo had underestimated the strength of those drinks, plus the delayed effect, used to spirits and not thinking of wine or bubbly as especially hard-hitting.
To his chagrin, they quickly fell asleep twined naked together.
It was only waking in the night, after lots of water and a little aspirin, that the party resumed.
Noah held his own head, saying he’d never have thought he’d be okay with kissing a man in public in a million years, and now he’d had sex with one in a public park in the middle of one of the largest cities in the world.
Timo couldn’t tell if he was horrified by the revelation with much of the drink worn off, or only marvelling that he’d done such a thing. Either way, Timo took it upon himself to make everything better, soothing Noah with kisses until Noah forgot his troubles, whatever they were.
“Not you.” Noah’s tone sharpened, commanding, and Timo shivered. “You’ve had the last three. Put it on me.”
He rolled the condom lovingly down Noah’s length while Noah reclaimed his own focus.
“Are we going to be hungover in the morning? I feel halfway in between the party and the aftermath right now.”
Timo kissed him. “Let’s stay another night.”
“You’d really be fine with staying into Monday?”
“If that’s what you want. But I’m popping into a pharmacy tomorrow.”
“Do they have Boots over here?”
“Not that I know of. We’ll make do. You never answered my question.” Another kiss. “Would you rather be the one wearing the handcuffs or putting them on someone else?”
“I’m still thinking about it.”
Timo chuckled, shoving Noah onto his back and following.
“Can we go back to the Eiffel Tower tomorrow?” Noah asked happily.
Timo sat up, straddling him, smiling down at Noah’s blissful expression, visible in the dark with their curtains still open to the city lights. “If that’s what you want.”