Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 91887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
He goes to the reception desk to check us in while I hang back looking over a map of the city that is pinned on one wall. When the check-in process is done, I follow Axel to the elevator and up to our floor – floor six. We enter the room and I flick the lights on. The soft electric lighting clashes with the orangey toned light from the Parisian streetlights outside that is spilling in through the glass door that leads out onto a balcony. Axel sets our bags down by the dresser, and I pull the drapes across the balcony door.
I look at the time and see it’s almost two a.m. Axel sees me checking the time.
“It’s too late to do anything now,” he mutters, half to himself, half to me. He looks up at me. “Unless you’re hungry? I’m sure there will be somewhere open for a takeaway.”
“I’m still stuffed full,” I say. We were served a full, restaurant-standard-three-course meal on the plane.
“Me too. We should unpack and get an early night. Start fresh in the morning,” Axel suggests.
I nod, though my pulse is already racing, not just from the day, but from the energy between us, and the thought that I am about to share a bed with Axel Rhodes. As we start unpacking, casual conversation turns into playful banter.
He smirks, tossing a folded black T-shirt at me. “You brought five pairs of socks? Are we hiking the Alps or something?”
I snort out a laugh and throw the T-shirt back to him, and then I start hanging up my clothes. “You never know. Paris could get chilly.”
“You really brought three sweaters for a weekend?” I tease, holding one up and laughing.
He leans a little closer to me, brushing past me as he grabs something from his bag. “One was for you.”
My breath catches in my throat, something I try and fail to hide, and I can feel the electricity crackling in the small space between us. I finish unpacking quickly.
“I’m going to go and get changed,” I announce croakily.
I head into the en-suite bathroom with my pajamas and my toilet bag. I brush my teeth, wash my makeup off, and brush out my hair. I change into the pajamas. I use the toilet and cringe when I have to flush. Ugh… Schooling my features into an expression of perfect calm and insouciance, I open the door.
Good God!
Axel is naked, but for a pair of black boxer shorts. He looks up as the bathroom door opens and heads casually towards it. For a few seconds, I freeze at the glorious sight, and we almost bump into each other just outside of the bathroom door. Then I come alive. We both attempt to sidestep each other, but we both go the same way. For a fraction of a second, the world contracts. His hand brushes my arm as if to move me to one side, and I feel that same jolt of heat I’d felt in the vault when our hands touched over the painting.
He looks at me, his gaze so dark and intense that I don’t pull back. I can’t. What he wants, I want too. I tilt my chin slightly, and in a motion that feels both natural and inevitable, he leans in. Our lips meet, tentative at first, then urgent. The careful restraint I promised myself I would show on this trip shatters into a million pieces, and we haven’t even been here for an hour yet. None of that matters, though. What matters is here and now. Axel’s bare chest presses against me, and suddenly every second of tension, every unspoken word, every glance and brush of skin over the past few days explodes into a raging fire that neither of us can control.
The hotel room becomes a blur around us: the few bits of luggage we haven’t put away yet, the open window next to the balcony doors that lets in a faint Parisian breeze, the quiet hum of the city outside. All of it recedes. Nothing matters except the heat of him, the way his hands find my hips and my waist and the way I cling to him like I am drowning, and he is the only one who can save me.
It’s raw, it’s consuming, and it’s nothing like I imagined it would be.
There are no words, no plans, only the desperate need to claim, to feel, to taste. Axel grabs the bottom of my vest top and tugs it upwards. I pull away from his kiss and put my arms in the air, and he peels the top off me and throws it aside. For a second, his eyes glitter as they alight on my bare breasts, then his lips swoop down and find mine again. My breasts press against his warm chest, and I can feel my nipples hard and aching as they touch his heated skin.