Mr. Wright & Mr. Wrong: A BWWM Romance (24 page)

O
n the other
side of the globe, just as London’s world was falling apart, Brooklyn’s was falling into place perfectly. These past two weeks with Alex had been better than she’d even dreamed.

Alex’s soft opening for the new nightclub in Paris,
Jalouse
, had gone well. Now she was here with him for the grand opening. This time the two of them were appropriately dressed for the clubbing.

Brooklyn was wearing a simple, sexy, jade colored, spaghetti-strap dress with a high-low hemline. It was thin as silk, draping across every curve with a slouchy neckline. The scoop back—with a thin bow tie across the top that was probably the only thing keeping it on her—was low enough to show her tattoo in full.

Alex was just as sexy in a form-fitting, black dress shirt and dark grey pants that hugged him in all the right places, especially one in particular. It was a look she hadn’t seen on him before, being so used to his t-shirt, jeans, Converse uniform…or nothing at all. It was making her horny as fuck. She’d have to make it a point to take him out clubbing more often. Already she couldn’t wait to get him back to the apartment.

For now, she was thoroughly enjoying the mesmerizing spectacle around her. She wasn’t sure if it was the fact that this was the grand opening, or that this was just how Parisians did it, but she loved this version much better than New York’s
Jealous
. The music was a nice mix of French rap, new-age techno, and the occasional odd-ball thrown in just for fun. At some point, the DJ had played
The Wheels on the Bus
and the crowd had gone wild.

Paris’ version of the Happy Ending was called La Petite Mort. When Alex told her what it meant she had laughed. It was a mix of cognac, Grand Marnier, and cranberry juice served in shot glasses that were skinnier and taller than the New York version.

The waitresses here were equally smitten with Alex and just as attractive—with the added benefit of having French accents. Their outfits were a similar corset style except instead of rhinestones covering the cups, they were covered in lace, which stretched down to reveal their taut torsos underneath. Each one had on a wig done in a retro, white bob with bangs. Brooklyn noted that it made them that much easier to find in the club.

Mixed in with the strobe lights and disco balls were several bubble machines blowing so many bubbles it was almost like the club was taking one big, communal bath together. The music was loud and the liquor was flowing and Brooklyn and Alex were having the time of their lives together.

She slid her body next to him as the music pulsated through her bones. She looked up at his face. The mixture of multiple Petite Morts and the shifting blue, pink, and purple lights gave his handsome face an ethereal look.

“This is awesome!” she shouted above the music. “Congratulations!”

He smiled and brought his arms around her, pulling her closer as their bodies moved to the thumping beat. Despite the throng of people around them going crazy, it felt like they were the only two people there.

All of a sudden, there was a shift in the music. It was a loud trumpet sound as people snapped out of their rhythmic daze and looked around to see what was up.

Near the front where the DJ was, a man in a slick suit came to the stage with a mic. Brooklyn turned to face him as Alex came up behind her, throwing his arms over her shoulder to hug her back into him.

Once the room had quieted down, he began his spiel. It was entirely in French so Brooklyn didn’t understand a word of it, but she could grasp that it was the usual sort of “Thanks for coming and helping to make this club a success!”

She cheered and clapped at all the right spots along with everyone else. The waitresses now all had their trays loaded up with glasses of champagne and were quickly handing them around to everyone in the club.

The speaker’s voice intoned higher, indicating a wrap-up to his speech. There was loud cheering and clapping as the original colorful lights switched to flashing white and fat, white, flakes of confetti fell from the ceiling. The music came back on, loud as before as people cheered, drank their champagne and resumed dancing.

Brooklyn turned around in Alex’s arms and finished her champagne off. He brought one arm up to swallow his whole. They placed the empty glasses on the waitress’s tray as she passed by and went back to dancing, closer than before.

It was almost dawn by the time they left the club. They stumbled their way through the streets of Paris, arms wrapped around each other, occasionally weaving into an alleyway to steal a few kisses. By the time they made it through their front door, all they had energy for was peeling off their clothes and falling into bed, wrapped in one another’s arms.

* * *

“
B
onjour monsieur
,” she purred as she sat atop Alex’s wakening body.

She could see the not-quite-morning erection formed between the covers and it worked perfectly with her little celebratory surprise. After their wild night at
Jalouse
, they had come home and crashed until mid-afternoon.

Alex blinked a sleepy eye open and a smile formed as he saw Brooklyn above him. “What happened to Miss America?” he said in a sleepy, scratchy voice as he rubbed his other eye open.

“When in Paris…,” she shrugged. “Of course, I can always take it off,” she offered.

She was referring to the very skimpy French maid’s outfit she had picked up the day before. There was barely enough fabric on it to even tell what sort of “costume” it was meant to be. It was actually more of an apron, since her entire backside was bare. The top was basically a black halter bra with white ruffles. It had a sheer, black torso with white ruffles leading down to a black flap, also lined with white ruffles.

“Don’t you dare,” he said, grinning as he took in her outfit.

She gave a small laugh as she pulled out the whipped cream she’d been holding behind her back.

“Of course, some traditions are universal,” she said, watching his eyes light up with delight.

“I like where this is going. What’s the occasion?” he asked.

“I just wanted to congratulate you on your success last night. The club was really awesome. It seemed like everyone was having a good time.
I
certainly did.”

The sexy smile he’d been wearing upon first seeing her deepened into something more sincere. “You’re really something special, you know that,” he said wondrously.

After an embarrassed smile of her own, she reverted back into sexy mode. “Just you watch and see,” she replied.

Brooklyn grabbed the sheets covering them and tugged them until she uncovered his erection, now standing straight up. “Ohh, la, la,” she observed with what she hoped was a French accent. “I think you could give the Eiffel Tower a run for its money.”

He laughed. “Can I quote you on that? I need something for my LinkedIn profile.”

That made her break character and laugh.

Then she brought the can of whipped cream around and formed a perfect cone of white around his cock. She scooted back on his legs and bent over, arching her back high enough so that he had a perfect view of “his favorite part” of her, fully exposed. She looked him in the eye and licked his dick clean.

“Jesus, Brooklyn,” he groaned, staring down at her intently, as her tongue swirled its way around his erection.

Once she had licked it clean, she took as much of it in her mouth as she could, making him groan even harder as her tongue, lips, and hands went to work sucking him completely clean. The sweet remnants mixed with the saltiness of his skin were turning her on more than ever, causing her to work even harder to get him off.

Alex’s hands slid up her bare, smooth back, gripping as he embraced the feeling of her mouth sucking him off.

“God, I love you,” he groaned.

She almost stopped in surprise, but continued on in a frenzy of elation. She knew the words were most likely brought about from the sensation her tongue was causing him, but the fact that they were even in his subconscious was enough for her.

She felt his thighs stiffen under her and she wrapped her lips tightly around the head as the explosion shot into her mouth. She swallowed greedily until he was completely spent. Then she brought herself up, licking the remnants from her lips.

She got off of him and crawled over to lean against the headboard next to him. He scooted back and pulled himself up to join her.

They stared at each other smiling like two silly teenagers.

“I meant it you know,” he said. “These last two weeks with you. They’ve been…” he let it trail off.

The silliness of her smile faltered a bit as she realized what he was saying.

“Me too,” she said softly, reaching a hand up to cup his handsome face. “I love you too Alex.”

She leaned in to kiss him, laughing when he flinched at the taste of himself on his lips.

He pulled away in mock disgust. “Well now I need something to take that taste away,” he said, grimacing.

She laughed again and reached over to the can of whipped cream. “There’s still some left in here,” she said.

“Mmmm,” he pondered, “I can think of something that tastes even better.”

With that he threw the covers off his legs and got up on all fours crawling to the edge of the bed. He grabbed her ankle and pulled her down with him as she yelped in surprise.

“That outfit, girl,” he growled. “You just don’t even know what you’re doing to me.”

As he pried her legs open and knelt on the floor between them, he made it very clear what she was doing to him.

* * *

A
fterward they lay
in bed being lazy. It was Saturday afternoon and the streets below them were noisier than usual.

“Hey, let’s see if there’s any mention of your club opening last night,” Brooklyn said jumping off the bed to get her phone from her bag.

That’s when she saw the messages from her friends, most of them informing her that she needed to get updated on the news in New York pretty quickly.

She hurriedly opened up a browser on her iPhone as she made her way back to the bed, typing in the address for the
New York Times
.

Alex must have seen the look of concern on her face as she made her way back to the bed.

“Was it that bad?” he asked with a slightly concerned smile.

She ignored him as she clicked over to the New York section of the
Times
.

“Oh my god,” she whispered as she skimmed the article about her family’s firm.

“What is it?” Alex, said sitting up straighter and moving in close as she plopped herself on the bed.

“It’s my family. They-they, I don’t understand,” she muttered.

“What is it, Brooklyn?” he asked in alarm.

All she could do was hand him the phone. He skimmed through the article, his face growing just as distraught as hers. After he was finished reading he pulled himself closer to her to wrap his arm around her and bring her close to him.

“I can’t believe I spent all night partying and…
this afternoon!”
she gasped as she thought about it. “While my family….”

“Hey, hey,” he shushed her. “Don’t think about that.”

She pulled herself off of him.

“I’ve got to go back.
Now
,” she insisted. She was supposed to leave tomorrow anyway.

He nodded in agreement. “I’ll change the ticket right now. Do you want me to come with you?”

She smiled and shook her head. “You stay here.
I’m
the one who has to be there for them.”