He pulled in hard breaths, his eyes heavy lidded, his chest rising and falling like an inky sea. As I worked to unbind him, my fingers trembled. With an aching slowness, I traced the line of dark hair that disappeared behind his waistband. Maxime watched every single movement, his face wild and stormy, until finally, I tugged away the last of the cord to release him.
At the easing of pressure, he moaned, and I wrapped my fingers around his length, savouring the velvet softness of his skin and the rough grind of his breath. I moved, stroking him, tentative at first, then firmer. Asmy hand passed over him,his throat caught, low and desperate, and something inside me surged.The sound—so helpless, tugged something deep inside me. As my confidence swelled, so did his.
I drove him harder, gripped him tighter, his eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks. With each stroke, my chest swelled. He was at my mercy, his breath unfettered and his fingers rough against my skin.
Eager to taste him, I gently bit into his shoulder and his head dropped back as he let out a growl. A wave of power surged through me. Visceral. Electric. Like I was some mysterious sea siren, wielding a very special kind of magic.
He lifted slightly, meeting my hand with his hips, like his body couldn’t help it. Like he couldn’t get enough. With a smile, I slowed, teasing him. Watching the way his jaw clenched with every pulse. He was beautiful like this—unravelling just for me.
When his breath hitched for the last time, his body tensed under my touch. Guttural words in French poured from his lips. And as he shattered, he squeezed his eyesshut, clenched his jaw and reached down, covering my hand with his.
The gesture was instinctive, maybe even a little shy, but ashe bucked against the two of us, I brought my mouth to his neck and bit down hard.
Maxime ran his hand over my hip as he lay against my back. Even the damp wood of the boat couldn’t dull the glow of warmth pushing through my body. His fingers were rough, but I didn’t mind, quite the opposite. The rain still fell outside, but the wind had died down.
We were free to row back to the club, but neither of us suggested it. We’d just stayed under the tarp, as if we wanted to keep this forbidden “one time only” slice of paradise alive as long as possible.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked, his lips at my shoulder, his warm breath behind my ear.
I blinked in the muted light. “I was just wondering, if nobody came looking, how long do you think we could last out here? I know we can’t drink the seawater, but I’ve heard that seaweed is fantastic for you. And then there are the oysters. Aren’t they an aphrodisiac? That could be useful.”
Maxime’s dry chuckle vibrated against my ear, sending a starburst of goosebumps over my skin, making my stomach twist in delight. There was something so singularly sexy about his almost-laugh.Once Sophie was safely back in Paris, I was determined to make it a daily part of my life.
I swallowed. We hadn’t talked about the future, but after the way Maxime had brought me to my knees, London was a distant thought.
He wasn’t like the other men I’d been with. He wasn’t pushy. Wasn’t all about what he could get. I smiled, warmth filling my chest. Quite the opposite.
“We should go back,” I whispered, cursing myself for even suggesting it. In the haze of ourafterglow, we’d talked, doublingdown on our plan: we’d wait until Sophie was gone. Then we’d figure out what the hell was going on between us. With the delicious feel of him wrapped around me right now, I didn’t know how I’d ever honour our arrangement.
“I’ll get the boat ready,” he said, shifting slightly. “It’s like a child’s paddling pool back there.”
Thank goodness for the wooden ridge that ran across the centre of the boat. Without it, we’d be sloshing around in the water, too. Visions of the non-tarped end of Maxime’s boat full of rubber ducks and pool noodles filled my head, and I chuckled.
But when he moved against me, his lips at my shoulder, my heart crumpled.
Iknewwe were doing the right thing—protecting Sophie and probably our hearts, too. Still, a question hovered in the back of my mind.
Had I just made the first real adult decision of my life, or had I made a deal with Poseidon I’d come to regret?
21
CHLOE
“Mum, I’m not sure that my being your receptionist is a good plan.” It wasn’t the first time she’d floated the idea of me manning the front desk at the family’s legal firm.
I shifted on Maxime’s mattress, enjoying the way it gave beneath me, like I was laying in the palm of someone’s hand or on a sturdy marshmallow.
He didn’t know I’d come here the last couple of days, but I’d heard it said, necessity was the mother of all invention. If I couldn’t touch him, or feel his heat, laying on his sheets was the next best thing.And his room wasstillthe only place with a decent phone reception.
“Nonsense darling,” she said. “You have a lovely smile and a beautiful telephone manner.” I cringed inside. Dare I mention how often I hid from her calls or the times I put her on speaker while I did something else in the background? Chatting to Mum and plucking my eyebrows was one of my more successful attempts at multitasking.
I twirled my pen in the air like a baton. Aside from daydreaming of Maxime, the real reason I was here was to make some progress with Sophie’s essay research. She’d left mea mother lode of notes a few days ago, and I couldn’t put it off any longer.
Good Wi-Fi meant working translation apps, which meant I had a shot at not letting her down.
“I’m having a lovely time in France. It’s great to be near Iris again, and I think I’ve made quite an impact on my boss.”Heat rose in my cheeks. Mum didn’t need to know in what way.
“That’s lovely, dear, but we have some new associates at the firm—and some of them are single. I’ve been telling them all about you.”
