Page 110 of Reluctantly Yours

We walk over the bridge to get to the other side of the river.

“Are you hungry?”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be hungry again.” I press a hand to my stomach where eating for a day in Paris has made the waistband of my shorts tighter. “But walking feels good.”

He nods, and we walk in a contented silence. Our path uncertain, but directed by the warm glow of the city’s greatest landmark.

My feet are exhausted from exploring the city today, but as the sky has darkened, there’s a new feel in the air. Nighttime in Paris is a whole other experience, and I don’t want to miss a minute of it. The people gathered on patios, eating and drinking, the fluidity of their spoken words while foreign is hypnotizing. And there’s music. A woman’s soft, yet captivating voice reaches us from afar.

As we walk through the Jardin du Champs de Mars, the source of the music becomes apparent. On one side of the green space, a small band is performing. It’s an informal concert, with many couples and groups stretched out on blankets enjoying the performance.

“What about dancing?” Barrett asks.

“I thought you weren’t a fan of dancing.”

Wordlessly, he wraps his left arm around my back, then takes my hand in the other. I put my free hand on his shoulder. He pulls me close and leans down, his lips brushing against my jaw before he whispers, “There are many things I wasn’t a fan of before.”

He doesn’t elaborate on what those things are or what he means by ‘before.’ He doesn’t have to. I know the feeling.

There, in the city of lights, wrapped in Barrett’s arms, I realize this fake relationship is quickly starting to feel very real.

CHAPTER27

Barrett

Watching Chloe take in Paris is doing funny things to me.

I’ve been here countless times, but I’ve never experienced the city before like I am with Chloe. She wants to see everything, try everything. Her constant wide-eyed stare as she takes it all in is intoxicating.

Not to mention the way she looks right now, her hair wild from sleep, spilling over her shoulders as she rides me.

Last night, we’d fallen into bed, our bodies exhausted from jet lag and a day of sightseeing. We found our pleasure quickly before drifting off to sleep, our limbs tangled in the sheets.

Due to a perfectly placed mirror on the back of the bathroom door, not only do I get the pleasure of watching Chloe’s breasts bounce with each thrust, but I can also see my cock sliding through her wet folds.

“Fuck. You have to see this.”

Chloe’s startled when I grab her hips and lift her off of me. Turning her so that her back is to my chest, I hold the base of my dick and slide back inside.

“Oh, God,” she gasps. I watch as Chloe’s hooded gaze falls to where we’re joined. The visual is even better now.

Her head falls back against my shoulder. I kiss along her neck and the shell of her ear.

“See how perfect you look taking my cock? How much your sweet pussy loves swallowing me up?”

I know we’re both close. I drop my hand from where it’s cupping her breast to her clit, and apply pressure there.

“Oh, Barrett. Yes. Please,” she moans.

I love taking care of her like this. Touching every inch of her body, hearing her moans, and feeling her pulse around me as she comes. I never want it to end.

I rock up into her over and over, loving the sight of her slick and greedy, taking me in. Chloe reaches back, thrusting her fingers into my hair. The sharp tug on my scalp only spurs me on.

With our eyes locked in the mirror, we come apart together.

* * *

After a shower, we had breakfast at Café de Flore, a coffeehouse known for attracting famous writers and philosophers. We perused the book stalls along the Seine. Even though they were in French, Chloe purchased three books because the covers were pretty.