for a weekend here.”
I nip at her shoulder. “I need to go to London next week. Come with me to Europe. We’ll go to Paris for the weekend, and then when we’re in London, you can go shopping or study while I’m working.”
“That’s not taking me away for the weekend.”
“But the weekend would be all ours. No interruptions. And then real life will intrude, as it always does, but at least we’ll be together.”
“Shopping?”
“There are Agent Provocateur shops in both Paris and London. In fact, there’s one right around the corner from my flat.”
“Your flat?”
“My apartment.”
She hits me gently, but a flash of real hurt flickers across her face. Just for a second, and then it’s gone. “I know what it means. Why do you have a flat in England?”
I rub my thumb over her cheek. “I lived there for two years. I thought it made more sense to buy a place than rent—turns out, that only makes sense to Americans. Their real estate system is a bit f*ck
ed up, and now I’m stuck with this place because I can’t seem to sell it. My cousin stays there often, so it’s not vacant, but she’s also just as agreeable to not stay there should I need it for anything.”
“You’ve got a cousin in England?”
I’ve got an entire English family, but I don’t need to give her a genealogy chart. “Yeah.”
“And do you…” She licks her lips, distracting me from the conversation, and I lower my head, tasting the wet trail she’s just blazed. Her lip is soft and plump, and I pull it into my mouth. She groans and arches beneath me, but then she pulls away. “Stop it.”
“I can’t. I don’t want to, either, so maybe I’m not trying hard enough, but you drive me crazy.” I wrap my arms around her and roll onto my back.
Now she’s on top. She’s in control, and she wants to talk, she just needs to stay out of biting range.
“What was your question?”
She perches on my abs, her knees tucked together, her honey-brown waves spilling over her shoulders and hiding her breasts. Lady Godiva had nothing on Ali.
Innocent. Smart. Sexy as f*ck
.
And full of will-power and questions.
“Do you need it for anything?” She crosses her arms and gives me a stern look from on high.
“Next week I’m going to need it so we can play English Lord and his naughty maid.”
She sticks out her tongue, then drops her hands to my chest. “More like…a proper young lady and the naughty butler.”
Jesus. Yes. “Whatever you want.”
“Okay. But I really need to work, so only a little bit of play.”
I tug her down so I can kiss her. “I love how smart you are. My sexy f*ck
ing brainiac.”
“Yeah?” She rubs her breasts against my chest and I groan. “Sexy?”
“Unbelievably sexy. When you take over the world, I want a full time job as your gigolo.”
“You’re hired,” she whispers, raising herself up just high enough to capture my cock between her legs, the red, swollen head pointed toward me. She starts a slow, wet grind up and down my length. She likes this just as much as f*ck
ing.
“You want to see me come all over my stomach?”
She grins and nods.
“Such a cumslut.”
A mock gasp turns her lips into a perfect O.
“Too dirty?”
“Hardly. Give it to me, old man. Come for me.”
I’ve created a beautiful monster. I tip my head back and give in to the hot, slippery sensations as she demands and gets my release.
BOOTY CALL
part three
LONDON
—twenty-one—
MAY
Alison
Paris was a non-stop sexfest. So I should be sore as we take the Eurostar train to London.
I am sore, and I’ve already told Scott that, but he’s still worked his hand up my skirt and has me rocking against his fingers anyway.
I wasn’t too sore. That’s why I wore a skirt, after all.
“I love your p*ussy
,” he murmurs in my ear. “It’s f*ck
ing juicy.”
I blush.
“And I love that you get embarrassed about that.”
“Just by the words,” I mutter.
“And it makes you gush at the same time. Dirty girl.”
My nipples tighten. How long until we get to his place? I thunk my head back against the seat and the guy behind us clears his throat. Damn it.
“Can’t move,” Scott whispers. “Still want my fingers?”
“Yes,” I breathe back.
“Let’s talk about your delicious p*ussy
for a minute.”
“Oh, God.”
“Have you ever shaved it?”
“No.”
“Would you?”
“Yes.”
“You’d shave this p*ussy
for me?”
I toss my head back and roll my hips, ignoring his instruction not to move. f*ck
him. I want to come. “I’d shave it for me and let you enjoy it as a side benefit.”
He laughs, but he tightens his arm. “And if I wanted you to shave it for me? Would you do that?”