It was everything she’d thought it could be. He rushed in and she squealed, filled with something — surprise, excitement, love maybe. The spontaneity of it. The sacrifice. He’d come.
Traveled all these miles. The packing and layovers and ticket prices had all been surmounted. He’d finally, finally, finally come.
For her. For her alone. And it thrilled Carmen to her core. The tall, thin, dark-eyed Frenchman had her heart instantly.
He hadn’t been just a fling, he hadn’t been only because she was in love with France. He hadn’t been because she drank too much wine that night and he’d kissed her against the wall. He was the real deal.
This was love. And her loss of assistantship made sense now. She was free. She could go anywhere.
She could go with him.
He held her tightly in the dark apartment. His smell enveloped her, somehow the vineyard and café clung to him, the exotic particularness of a faraway place combined with the rigors of travel.
There were no vocal greetings, save the moist sounds of their lips hungrily saying hello in the clearest of ways. Carmen sank into him. His dark stubble scratched her face as their kissing deepened. And then his hands were tugging on her shirt, pulling it up over her head.
She threw her head back and stifled a giggle. Feeling desired was an intoxicating drug.
“I’ve missed you, Carmen.” The deep accent was velvet against her bare neck. He kissed down, cupping her naked breasts, and bringing her closer.
“I— I have a roommate…” She hated to tell him, hated the thought of anything between them stopping ever again as long as they lived.
Pulling back in surprise, he squinted into the dark expanse that housed a bed and sleeping figure. “A man?”
Carmen smiled. “Of course not.”
Gérard looked around and set down his leather duffel bag. He ran his fingertips lightly through her hair and then down her shoulders. “I must have you.” He whispered, gently taking her nipples between finger and thumb on either side.
Carmen looped her own fingers into his belt and slowly rocked him backward until he realized where they were going. Grinning, she led him into the bathroom. As soon as the door closed behind them, he had her against it with a loud bang.
The kissing was frenzied, the most she’d ever seen him lose his cool. And she could barely keep up. Tasting wine and nicotine on his breath, she reached to pull his pants down. Their tightness resisted her, and he went and did it himself.
“Should I turn the shower on?” Carmen paused to catch her breath, loving his effects on her. The red flush she felt coming … How her heart fluttered with excitement … And the tingly sensation between her legs.
“Sure,” he growled. As she leaned over to do it, he wiggled her shorts and panties down. “Putain … You look amazing.” He had switched to French, as was his custom near the end. Not yet! I want this to last forever!
The water rushed now, filling the small bathroom with steam almost instantly. Carmen adjusted the temperature, bending over again, and felt his fingers inside her from behind.
She’d hoped he would take the opportunity. Letting out a moan of surprise, she put a foot up on the side of the tub for easier access.
