Bound Together (14 page)

She glanced over at me. “I’m just trying to understand what I’m looking at here,” she said with
a certain
playfulness in her eyes.

“Artistically speaking, of course.”

“Um, no.
I mean, their junk looks
kinda
weird, right?”

I laughed out loud before quickly recovering, remembering our quiet surroundings. “If you’re that interested, I could give you an anatomy lesson later,” I offered, my
voice cool
, despondent. I expected her to shoot me an offended look, but when she turned her head, a slow smile was spreading across her lips.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” She left me standing alone in front of the
Satyres
en
Atlante
, wondering what the hell just happened.

             
We spent several hours walking around the
Lourve
, though we could have spent many more.

The Louvre lived up to its reputation, it was big.
Too big.
After
three
hour
s
my back hurt from standing at all the exhibits, so after we saw the obligatory Mona Lisa
(which was tiny)
and Venus de Milo,
before
Zoey
and I snuck out of the group tour down an empty hallway, running for our freedom before Mr
.
Rhinehart noticed us missing.

Zoey
and I sat in the park, I was writing in my notebook and she was sketching. She didn’t even try to move the book away when I glanced over. It was the
little girl we’d seen in the park
.
The one that looked like her sister.

I was pretty much counting down the minutes until she got bored or tired or cold and we could go back to the hotel. I knew that I should be using every free minute to enjoy the city of Paris, but I would rather be kissing
Zoey
.

“So, what’s
on
the agenda later?” I asked, setting my notebook aside. I couldn’t concentrate on writing anyways. “More dirty Scrabble?”

She laughed.
“Only if we get to act out the dirty words.”

I almost choked on the air.
“Um, yes.
Can we go now?” I begged.

She laughed again. This was definitely not like
Zoey
. She closed her sketchpad and stood up.
“
Fine
.
Come on.”

I was on my feet before she could finish the thought.

Chapter
Seventeen

Zoey

We got on the subway and the midday rush meant it was completely full. There was only one open seat in the car we got on. After opening doors for me all day, pulling out my chair, and ordering for me, the least I could do was give Matt the seat. “I’d rather stand,” I said, motioning for him to take it. I knew he was about to protest, so put my hands on his chest and pushed him down into the seat.

“Thanks,” he mumbled. He lowered himself the rest of the way into the fold-down seat in the aisle.  I stepped up close to him, placing my arms on either side of his shoulders to hold onto the bar behind his head to steady myself.

The crowded train car was alive with energy, filled with improbably cool and good looking Parisians. The dimming light each time the train plunged underground, the jarring and rattling that made me sway back and forth against Matt’s knees that stuck out in the aisle where I stood kept me pricked at attention, soaking it all in.

The train turned a sharp corner and I stumbled to the side, momentarily losing my balance and Matt reached around behind me and curled his fingers around the back of my thigh to steady me. I stepped in closer so that I was standing in between his legs. I knew we were entirely too close, arms and legs intertwining, but he kept his hand comfortably resting against the back of my knee, holding me in place.

The heat of the bodies all around us warmed me, and color rising in my cheeks wasn’t helped by the young couple sitting next to Matt were openly making out. It wasn’t like a quick peck, the kind of PDA you’d see back home, they were full on kissing. I think I caught a glimpse of his tongue. I had to look away. Something in me was curious about how people here more freely expressed their emotions, not trying to be all correct and well behaved.
Like they knew how to live more fully than we did.

I stepped even closer to Matt so his knee was in between my thighs. The effect was sexy, while at the same time completely innocent. So why couldn’t I get my mind out of the gutter?

He swallowed at our sudden closeness,
then
looked up at me. “Are you sure you don’t want the seat? I feel like a dick.” 

There was no way I was moving. “I’m fine here.”

The couple beside him only came up for air once, I noticed from the corner of my eye. And only then it was to say something that sounded impossibly sexy in French. This subway ride would be the death of me. My entire body was humming by the time untangled myself from Matt twenty minutes later.

And of course on the walk back to the hotel, I didn’t get much relief from the blood rising in my cheeks. People kissed in parks, lounging on blankets together, and greeted friends on the street with a kiss on each cheek. It was like Paris was trying to break my will.

Chapter
Eighteen

Matt

“Your room or mine?” she asked when we reached the hotel. She was always so down to business.

“I don’t care.” As long as there was a bed, anywhere was fine with me.

“Mine, then.”
She
pulled me by my collar into the elevator. As soon as the doors closed
we
were kissing. She pressed the length of her body to mine and
pushed me
back against the wall. I
tangled
my hands
in her
hair. She smelled good, like the hotel soap and something
else, kind of
light and flowery
.

The doors to the elevator slid open and
Zoey
and I pulled apart.
Her cheeks were flushed and her lips
were
pink
. She took my hand and pulled me
down the hall. We jogged to her room,
our fingers barely brushing
. She slid the card into the door and pushed it open with her back while s
he tugged me by my belt loops
.

It felt kind of wrong being alone in her hotel room when we were supposed to be researching a
paper, but my hands move
d
on the
ir own and all of a sudden, I’d
pulled her close and, my hands sli
d
down her lower back, cupping her ass and pulling her
in
to me. We kiss
ed
for a few minutes standing like this, awkwardly in the middle of the room.

Zoey
stepped back and pressed her palms against my chest,
push
ing
me
down
onto her bed, then
lifted my shirt and
pulled
it
off ov
er my head.
We were actually closer to the same height with me sitting. I interlaced my fingers with hers and
pulled her
forward to
kiss
me
. She worked her hands free from mine and climbed on top of my lap
, wrapping her arms around my back
. God, she felt good against me. I lifted her shirt up, unsure if she’d stop me, but
her hands fumbled at the hem and she
helped me
pull it off over her head. Her bra was black and lacy, and her skin was soft and
flushed pink
.
We shared an intense look for a second when her shirt came off
.
Then she was back to kissing me, her lips
damp and salty on mine.
We kissed like that for a
few minutes, with her on my lap, and I ran my hands through her hair.
I could definitely get used to spending time with
Zoey
.

We moved so we were
lying
down
on our sides, facing each other, our legs t
wisted together. There was no part of me I didn’t want touching her.
I ran my fingers over her breasts and down her stomach and felt her breathing
fast
under my touch.
I hoped she couldn’t tell the way my fingers trembled when I touched her. Things were heating up fast and we pressed our bodies together frantically, grinding and grasping and moving together. My heart was beating so fast I felt like it was going to pound of my chest.

Zoey
began unbuttoning my jeans and worked her hand inside my boxers.
Her hands we
re
so soft, and when she touched me,
I felt like I was going to
explode
.

Chapter
Nineteen

Zoey

I slipped my hand into his boxers and inhaled suddenly at
w
hat I discovered. He started to say something, a weak protest against my lips. “
Shh
. Don’t talk. Don’t even think.” I kissed his words away and pushed him back against the bed. I d
id
n’t want him to say anything to ruin the moment. Why couldn’t
we just have this
fun adventure together and forget all our inhibitions,
forget all about
who we were at home. 

When I worked my hand down farther, his need to talk seemed to die away. He kissed m
e
frantically and
brought
his hands
to me
, cupping my breasts. My breath caught in my chest. Using just his fingertips
, he slowly, carefully, explored
, the contour of my bra, leaving me wishing and waiting for him t
o push the material aside. I gre
w l
ight headed in my want for him and let myself get lost in the moment.

Something wasn’t feeling
quite
right. Not with him, this felt
freakin
’ amazing. No, something was off with me. Things were getting a little squishy down below, and not in the good way. I
pulled myself away from him and
excused myself and went to the bathroom. Not good. Dear
ol
’ Aunt Flo had arrived, very much ahe
ad of schedule. It must have been
the flights
or time change
that
had
messed with my cycle.
Merde
.

I walked bowlegged out of the bathroom and
headed for
Amanda’s bag, I figured she wouldn’t mind my borrowing something
, considering how eager she’d been to share clothes or make
up
.

Matt sat up on the bed. “What are you doing?”

I didn’t answer, but instead flipped open the top of Amanda
’s suitcase and started digging through her clothes.

“Come back. I need you,” he groaned and fell back
heavily
onto the bed.
“
Zoey
…”

“Please hold.” I held up one finger. Satisfied there was nothing in her suitcase, I moved onto her cosmetics bag, and worked my fingers around all the compacts and eye pencils, but sadly it was also free of any feminine products. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Slight problem.”

He looked at me like he was worried. “
Zoey
, what is it?”

I m
ight as well get it over with.
It was j
ust like ripping off a Band
Aid, although this
might
be easier if he had sisters. Of course he knew how the female body worked
–
he’d been through sex
-
ed
. Just blurt it out,
Zoey
. He was staring at me like I was mental.

“I started my period.”

“Oh.” He ran his hand across his hair, like he always did. “Are you…okay?”

Was I okay?
He was cute.
“
Y
eah. I just don’t have anything here.”

He studied me for a second until he registered what that meant. “Oh.”
He was saying
oh
a lot. “Do you need me to go get you some….supplies?”