Foreign Love (An International Sports Romance) (Love in Shades) (6 page)

In the low light, I see the question finally register in his mind. Panic. That’s the only way to describe his expression.

And now, I’m embarrassed. What the hell is wrong with me? I’ve always been spontaneous, impulsive and highly unpredictable. It’s what my friends love about me. But I’ve finally taken it too far, inviting myself to move in with this man. How stupid and presumptuous of me to try to move in with him. I’ve known the poor guy for how long? I know nothing about his life and he knows nothing about mine. He must think I’m just the crazy American girl he fucked in the airplane lavatory within minutes of meeting her.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked you that. I don’t know what I was think –“

His lips press to mine, burying my apologies with a kiss. His expression is soft now. He flicks a finger along my cheek. “Of course you can stay.”

Chapter 16

Lucien

Julia’s hair is still wet from the shower. It hangs down her back in long, deep-gold waves.

“I forgot my blow-dryer,” she laments as she leans over the bench in front of the dresser and digs through her bag.

“Ah, that is not a problem,” I say coming up behind her and yanking the towel from around my waist. “I will be your personal hair dryer.”

She laughs and swats me away with her hands as I try to rub the towel against her hair.

“What?” I say innocently, stopping for a fraction of a second to watch her.

“You’re naked,” she says, gawking at my semi-erection. God – just the sight of her sends blood pumping to my cock.

I hook my fists on my hips and stand back, giving her just enough space to appreciate my body. “You like me naked, no?”

Her laughter tappers off. “Very much,” she says earnestly.

God – it’s only been a few days, but already love waking up next to her. When I got back home after my early morning soccer practice, she was still in bed sleeping. So, I climbed back in and woke her up, pressing my erection to her belly. We’d fucked again, but now, it’s time to start the day.

Julia’s eyes grow serious and hot with need. She stares at me for a beat and the look on her face is a cross between hesitation and something wickedly devious. “Y’know, I’ve been thinking,” she says as she slides off of the bench and stands in front of me, lacing her arms around my neck. “You’ve been so…
kind
to me…It’s time I return the favor.”

I have no idea what she has in mind for me, but I’m grinning from ear-to-ear because her expression tells me that I’m in for a treat. She presses her palms flat to my bare chest and pushes me backwards, backwards till I bump up against the bed. With one final shove, I fall across the mattress and she climbs up on top of me. Her lips touch my neck, my shoulder, my chest and she continues to move down, her mouth leaving a trail of warm, stimulated flesh in its wake.

“I will be late for my physiotherapy.” It’s more of a statement than a complaint or a request for her to stop.

I feel her smile against my skin. “You
will
be late for your physiotherapy.” And then, her lips cover the tip of my cock, sucking softly. Just the tip.

“
Merde
,” I mutter low under my breath as my hand goes to the back of her head and slides down the back of her neck.

And she takes me in, more and more. I can tell the gentle suction is just a warm up. She’s teasing me. I feel the blood rushing through my veins, headed towards my cock. It swells and pulses against her tongue. She picks up the speed, bit by bit, her head bobbing in my lap, her licks contracting and releasing around me.

“Julia…
Poupée
…” I groan, sinking my head into the pillow and squeezing my eyes shut. And then, I’m thrusting up and into her mouth. At first, I’m making small, restrained movements but then, I’m losing myself, getting wild.

“Hmmm.” She hums low and needy and it vibrates through my over-sensitive erection.

“Fuuccckkk!” I growl, my hand cupping the back of her head, holding her in place, making her feel what she’s doing to me. My muscles are deliciously tense, my every nerve ending is raw. “I’m…coming…” Her movements grow feverish. She’s eager to taste me, to swallow all I leave behind on her tongue.

When she finally pulls away, she falls beside me on the bed. “Oh god…” she mutters licking her lips. “Oh god…”

I look over at her and smile, giving my heart time to regulate its erratic beating.

She smiles back. “You are so fucking late.”

Chapter 17

Julia

I sit patiently in the waiting room, flipping through the same magazine for the third time. Lucien has an appointment with Cynthia today and since I have nothing better to do, I decide to tag along. So, here I am, in a fabric-covered chair opposite the reception desk, pretending not to feel the receptionist shooting venom at me with her stare. When the weight of her hatred becomes too much, I glance up at her and give her the sweetest smile.

She doesn’t reciprocate.

In fact, she sort of snarls at me…
O-kay. Time to use the ladies’ room
.

I grab my messenger bag and walk the short distance to the washroom, pushing the door open and slinking inside. I’m alone in here. I press my hands against the granite counter, leaning in close to the mirror to inspect myself.

I like the way I look right now…I look good.

But not in a Wow-this-new-shade-of-lip-gloss-really-works-for-me-and-my-smoky-eye-makeup-is-on-point kind of way (actually, my face is completely bare of makeup). But in a healthy, carefree, happy way. I think I’m actually glowing.

My hair was still wet when I weaved it into a single French braid down the back of my head. (Because when in France, do as the French do, y’know?)

My eyes are bright. My lips are red and they won’t stop twitching, a smile playing right beneath the surface.

My fingers flitter across the dark bruise on my neck and the echo of last night’s orgasms reverberates through my mind, causing me to shiver. I press my palm to my mouth to suppress a giggle.
Naughty girl.

And just as quickly, my euphoria is replaced by a feeling of utter trepidation rolling down my spine. “What the fuck am I doing?” I mutter to myself. I’ve completely run away from my life. I’m hiding out in some stranger’s bed, delaying the inevitable, when in reality, I have decisions to make, life-changing decisions. I lean against the sink and rub my injured knee. I have to decide whether or not I’ll get the surgery. I have to figure out what to do about my position in the ballet corps. I have to accept that my dance career is pretty much over.

What the hell am I going to do with my life?

Those are all issues I can safely avoid when I’m lying pinned down beneath Lucien’s perfect body.

Maybe I can delay them for the summer. But I can’t delay them forever.

I turn on the faucet and splash cold water on my face. I dry off with a napkin from the pile sitting on the counter. I smooth my hands down the front of my jeans and take a deep breath. I turn and walk back into the reception area.

“
Ah, tu est là
,” Lucien takes wide steps, closing the gap between us. He greets me warmly, kissing my cheek right as he shoves his phone back into his pocket. “I was just about to call you.”

My smile is weaker than I’d like it to be. “I’m here.”

I’m here and I’m not back at my apartment figuring my life out. I’m not in New York getting the surgery done. Suddenly, I don’t think I am where I
should
be.

Lucien’s voice cuts through my thoughts. “Let’s get out of here,
poupée
.”

I offer him a smile that feels tight against my lips. He doesn’t seem to notice. He just slips his hand around my waist and leads me out the front door of the physiotherapy clinic.

Chapter 18

Lucien

Something happened when I was in my physiotherapy session. I want to ask her what’s wrong, but something tells me to hold back, not to be so direct with her. Instead, I squeeze her body close to mine as we stand on the narrow sidewalk outside of the clinic.

“The weather is beautiful. What do you feel like doing today?” I press my lips to her ears.

She sort of shrugs, trying to imperceptibly wiggle her way out of my arms. A street vendor tries to get her attention, dangling a handful of Eiffel Tower key chains in her direction. With my hands on her shoulders, I guide her down the street and we meld into the city’s fast-moving foot traffic.

I won’t let her sudden foul mood taint this beautiful afternoon. “Come on,” I say as I weave my fingers through Julia’s and step off the curb, dodging between a taxi and a scooter as I pull her across the street. Horns blare around us as vehicles move quickly through the tiny street.

“Lucien!” she screeches. Alarmed, I turn back and find her wincing, covering her eyes.

“What is it?” I ask, panic rising within me.

Her eyes are wide when she says, “You just strolled right out into the street. You didn’t even look.”

Safely on the other sidewalk, I look at her and grin. “Ah, my little, American girl. The ways of Paris still surprise you.”

Her nostrils flare and she tries not to smile, then says, “Where the hell are you taking me, anyway?”

“You’ll see,” I say, tossing her a glance over my shoulder as we weave through the winding streets. We make a turn on Boulevard Périphérique and climb the spiral staircase. Her eyes go bright as Promenade Plantée comes into view.

“Oh wow! It’s beautiful!” she breathes.

I love watching her, a light glowing in her eyes as she takes in the view of the city below. I guess I want some of her radiance to rub off on me so I take her hand and enjoy her as she appreciates her surroundings. We walk along the tree-lined pathway for…for…I have no idea how long. Time loses all significance as I move alongside her, watching her discover the city.

When we finally move off of the walkway, we find a café on the shadowed side of the street. I order an espresso and Julia opts for an iced tea.

“Y’know,” she says staring thoughtfully at the plastic straw sticking out of her glass, “I’ve lived in this city for a year, and I’ve never been to the Promenade Plantée before today…I’ve never been to Luxembourg Gardens or Louvre or the Quartier Latin…”

My eyebrows inch up in surprise. “You haven’t been to Luxembourg Gardens?”

She laughs, slight embarrassment in her eyes. “No.”

“
La tour Eiffel
?”

“Yes – I’ve been to the Eiffel Tower once.”

“My goodness, Julia. You’re in the most beautiful city in the world.
Il faut en profiter
. You have to take advantage.”

She smiles weakly, shaking her head at me. “I was been working. Hard. Our rehearsal schedule is grueling at the
Opéra
and even when we don’t have official rehearsals, I’d spend my time working on my craft, anyway. That’s how you get a leg up over everybody. By working harder than everybody else. And now…” She stares down at her injured knee, her eyes glistening over.

I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who so clearly feels what I feel. My soccer career was the same. I devoted my life to the sport from sunrise to well beyond sunset, everything I did was done with my career in mind. From my taxing workout routines to my daily sessions with my trainer to my carefully strategized diet and, of course, team practice. And then, in the wink of an eye, I lost it all.

And that’s exactly what the beautiful woman across from me is experiencing.

I reach over and touch her hand. “You deserve an adventure. I’ll give it to you. We’ll discover Paris together.”