A Window to Love (Windows) (Volume 1) (12 page)

I sighed breathlessly, “oh mon dieu,” as he bathed my folds
with his tongue, before sucking each lip, and then spreading them to gain
better access to my clit.

Suckling, licking and biting my sensitive nerves, I rolled
my hips into his mouth while continuing to suck his pulsating cock. “Mmmm.
Bébé, you’re pussy is so wet and yummy.” I shivered as his words vibrating
against my swollen lips.

Feeling him start to thicken and pulsate in my mouth, one of
Evan’s large hands firmly grips one of my hips and with his other hand he
plunged two fingers deep inside of me driving me wild and over the edge. I
moaned around his hard cock as he spilled his seed into the back of my throat,
joining me in a delicious orgasm.

Once we regained a normal breathing rhythm, he rolled us
onto to our sides and then moved around my still quivering body until he
captured my mouth with his and kissed my deeply. I loved this man and how made
me feel.

Basking in the warm afterglow, curled up in Evan’s big,
strong arms he confessed, “I love being with you. I missed you today. Could you
tell?”

“Yes, I liked the way you showed me that you missed me,” I
purred, wrapping my leg around his calf.

He smiled, placing a chaste kiss on my forehead. “You are a
feisty one, and I will gladly make you purr more, but first tell me about your
first day in Paris. How was your day with your friend?”

I let out a little giggle as I pulled up on one elbow,
looking into beautiful blue eyes. I loved that he was interested in what I had
to say and wanted me to share my day with him. “Good. We had lunch. We toured a
museum, then went to a patisserie, and just like Lily, she ended our day
abruptly and took off. She's always interesting. I think you'll like her. She
wants to photograph us nude so she can paint us,” I said with a big grin and a
wink.

With a smirk plastered on his face he laughed, “I think I
like her already.”

Snuggled up, I noticed a couple of garment bags and shoe
boxes. “Are those what you're wearing to the benefit?”

“Yes... and what you are wearing.”

“What? Really?” I asked in a high pitched voice, and Evan
laughed at my excitement.

“Since you will be walking down the red carpet with me, the
design house suggested you wear something from their line. I think you will
like what I helped select for you. Go ahead, open the front bag and I think you
can figure out which box is your shoes.”

I jumped out of the bed naked, wrapped my robe around me and
opened the shoe box first. I love shoes! Gorgeous black, jeweled, high-heel
sandals. Very sexy! “Ooh la la! Très fabulous!” I unzipped the bag and the
dress was equally amazing; black, ankle-length with long, sheer, black sleeves
and a sheer top above the breast area and then backless and quite low.
“GORGEOUS!”

“It is a beautiful dress, but it is nothing without you in
it. It is you who will make the dress look truly gorgeous. “

“Ooh monsieur, you make me blush.” I giggled. Then looking
more closely at the gown I added in a worried tone, “I hope it fits.”

“It should fit you perfectly. I gave the seamstress your
height and clothing size. I told her to make sure my beautiful girl was wearing
the best dress of them all. Parfait for Perfect as always.”

“Merci Beaucoup.” I stepped away from the garment and
launched myself at Evan, smothering him in kisses.

“As much as I would love to stay in bed with you the rest of
the day, I think we should go wander around the city,” he said removing me from
his body and directing me towards the shower.

Looking over my shoulder at him, I said with a pout,
“You’re no fun,” to which, I received a playful slap on the ass. I giggled and
raced him to the shower.

WE BUNDLED UP in heavy coats,
scarves and gloves for a stroll along the marvelous tree line streets. I loved
this city with its fabulous architecture and history. It amazed me that I was
surrounded by exciting landmarks near Evan’s neighborhood: The apartment where
Dumas penned The Three Musketeers. The Luxembourg Gardens though this was not a
great time of year to visit that park or various other parks scattered about
Paris. And my favourite museum, the Musée d’Orsay was only a few blocks down
the Seine. I loved that there was something to see and experience on every
street. If the buildings and the streets could talk, imagine the tales they
would tell. I wondered who lived in Evan’s building and what they contributed
to the history of this wondrous city. Perhaps someone of high nobility, as this
arrondissement was called the aristocratic district. Ooh la la! Or maybe art
patron Gertrude Stein had been entertained along with Hemingway and Matisse in
his sitting room. These thoughts made me delirious. I was totally enthralled
with this city and even more so sharing this holiday with Evan.

As it got dark, we wandered across the Seine to Avenue
Montaigne watching store windows light up, and wondrous displays twinkle with
life. The holiday windows in Paris were spectacular. Evan hugged me tightly as
we looked at different windows, discussing the designs. I thought of my parents
from time to time. I think he knew it because every so often he pulled me
closer and gave me a chaste kiss on the cheek. I couldn't believe that only two
weeks ago we came together in front of a magical window. I loved him. I hoped
he wouldn't break my heart, and in the very same breath I pushed that thought
to the back of my mind remembering I was in the city of love and I must embrace
our time together. Eat, drink and be merry Parisian style!

We worked up quite the appetite from walking, and settled on
a quaint bistro just off the Avenue Montaigne for dinner. It was bustling with
people and we were so close to our fellow diners, it felt like we were
all part of an intimate dinner party. Everyone was chatting away in
various languages while they delighted in the delicious cuisine. No one ate
quickly in Paris. Every meal was lingered over and every bite savored. It was
another thing about this city that warmed my heart.

“Thank you for a romantic day. I'll never forget it.” I said
reaching across the table and gently running my hand along his strong jaw line
wishing it was my tongue caressing his face.

He captured my hand running his lips along the inside of my
wrist, “It was great for me too. I don't think I will ever look at a shop
window the same.”

“I have to tell you, I was a bit disappointed. I didn't see
a gorgeous man in one of these holiday windows,” I teased my very own handsome
window decoration.

“It wouldn't have mattered, bébé, there's only one man in a
window for you!”

“Are you mine?” I inquired with a nervous giggle.

Evan looked me straight in the eyes and said, “Yes bébé, I
am yours. Let's get out of here, I need you naked and in my arms for the rest
of the night.”

AS PROMISED LAST night in the heat
of passion, Evan agreed to treat me to breakfast and a romantique walk. It's
amazing what you can get a man to do when you’re naked and riding him.

This morning, showered, wrapped in a towel, my yummy
smelling man asked, “Where to for breakfast, bébé? Anywhere you want.”

“Hmmm…” I said trying to concentrate on getting ready rather
than thinking about what was under the towel riding low on his v-cut hips.  How
easy it would be to have breakfast in bed.

“Are you ogling moi, ma cherie?” Two very blue eyes stared
back at me in the mirror imploring me to answer.

I giggled, “It’s hard not to do, monsieur.”

With an amused laugh, he instructed, “Well, stop it or we
will never get out of here. I have no problem bending you over the counter and
fucking you until you can’t walk, but I promised to take you on a Paris
adventure this morning.”

Out on the street, we walked toward the Seine in hopes of
catching a taxi to Montmartre. I insisted we walk up the steps to the
Sacré-Coeur and then find a little place for breakfast. If I was with Lily, we
would’ve taken the Metro, but Evan preferred to be above ground. His reasoning
was that he didn't want to miss out on the sights of the city. He was right,
there was so much to see, and I loved how he directed my attention to points of
interest as if he was a tour guide. He told me stories of his life in
Paris, and he made me laugh when he told me about getting lost on the Metro.
Apparently, he ended up in Versailles with an invalid ticket, and he had to hop
the turnstile and a worker chased after him. I was wondering if that was the
real reason he didn't like to ride the Metro.

In Montmartre, we made our way hand-in-hand up at least a
million steps to La Basilique du Sacré-Coeur. Standing outside the church
looking out over Paris and I let out a big sigh, “There is nowhere like Paris.
It is truly a breathtaking view from up here.”

“I quite like the view next to me,” Evan said pulling me to
stand in front of him, wrapping his arms around me and resting his chin atop of
my head. I swooned in his arms as we gazed out appreciating the city laid
before us. We remained like this for several minutes before he asked if I was
ready to maneuver our way down to a café for petite déjeuner.

Settling on Coquelicot, an intimate little bakery on
Rue des Abbesses, I ordered my usual breakfast of croissant, berries and café
crème, and somehow it tasted better in a Parisian café. My beautiful man
ordered the same adding a soft boiled egg. We sat chatting, and people
watching, occasionally making up stories about what we thought some of them did
for a living. Mr. Duke had quite an imagination and had me doubled over with
laughter. Since smiling and public laughter wasn't usually displayed, we looked
like the typical tourist, but I could care less. Being with him brought such
joy to my life.

Smiling at me Evan asked, “If you could do anything, what is
the ultimate thing you’d like to do in Paris?

Quickly I answered, “I would like to be fucked while
watching the lights twinkle on the Eiffel Tower.” A heated face followed my
response.

My answer causes mon cher monsieur to choke a bit, before a
couple of raised eyebrows, and a deliciously wicked grin appeared on his face.
“That could be arranged on our next visit.”

“I will hold you to that promise as well,” I replied,
wondering if we would ever be together in Paris again.

As if he could read my mind, he quipped, “Let’s draw up a
contract,” with a playful grin.

I laughed and changed the subject. “I say we purchase some
pastries, wander around and work off this breakfast, so we can indulge.”

A big grin spread across his face, and his blue eyes lit up
magically as he spoke, “Mmmm... Indulge. I like that word, but I’m not relating
it to pastry at all. I say we wander a bit and then I indulge in your sweet
body.”

I smiled at my naughty man. “You want to wander back to the
playground, monsieur?”

“I want to wander to a taxi that takes me to the 7th
arrondissement immediately,” He said walking out of the patisserie with his arm
firmly around my waist, making a beeline to the first taxi we found, I realized
then, our Parisian stroll was over.

AFTER SPENDING A romantic morning on
the streets of Paris, we decided to lounge around until it was time to get
ready for the Christmas Fashionganza charity benefit later that evening. Evan
was an ambassador for the charity, and he would be the main attraction on the catwalk.
Sitting on the sofa together, Evan was browsing on his tablet and I was propped
up in the corner of the sofa, leaning against plush pillows with my toes tucked
under one of his muscular thighs, sketching. Occasionally, I wiggled my toes
and peeked in his direction hoping to break his intense concentration and from
time to time I received a raised eyebrow, a wink and a few grins.

I was happy and content until his announcement, “Looks like
we made news while wandering around Paris last night. People want to know who
you are.”

“Let me see.” He showed me. The headline read “WHO IS THE
MYSTERY WOMAN ON THE ARM OF SUPERMODEL EVAN DUKE” Looking at the photo; I was
relieved my face was barely visible. “Not easy to see me, I'm safe.”

“You won't be tonight on the red carpet with me,” Evan
informed me.

I made light of his remark, “They will be disappointed when
they see you arrive with no one recognizable, just an ordinary woman, not your
usual young, long-legged model.”

Changing his tone to a more playful one, Evan responded with
his wicked smile, “You're extremely special to me, bébé.” Adding a wink to his
repertoire of expressions that delighted me, he added, “I'm never
disappointed.” Those dazzling blue eyes penetrated my skin leaving me scarred
for life.

By late afternoon, it was time to get ready. I put makeup on
and pulled my hair up into a messy French twist to show off the back of my
dress. Evan was right. The dress hugged my curves perfectly. However, I thought
Evan was having second thoughts about the dress. Once he glimpsed it on, he
raised an eyebrow.

“You don't like the dress on me?”

“Oh, I like it on you. It makes me want to rip it off you
and fuck you. You are going to have men undressing you with their eyes, and I’m
not going to like it.” I giggled and kissed him.

ARRIVING AT THE Grand Palais, we
were directed to the step and repeat. As we moved further down the red carpet,
we were greeted by hundreds of blinding flashes. Evan stopped to pose and smile
for the cameras and spectators who had waited for his arrival. Sensing my need
to become invisible or at the very least disappear, he kept a firm hold on my
hand, anchoring me close to him. It would be hard
for the photographers to post a photo of him without me in the frame,
but every time I tried to pull away from him at the request of the
photographers, his grip tightened. Finally, I gave up and stayed exactly where
he wanted me.

Once we stepped inside the museum doors, my eyes were
tantalized by the wonders of Christmas. A gigantic silver tree in the
center of the exhibit hall was decorated with twinkling red and green lights.
Several oversized round, retro-contemporary, button-tufted banquettes in shades
of red and green alternated throughout the space. A few mirrored bars were
scattered about while French Christmas music filled the air. We milled around
the room with Evan greeting several people and answering questions directed to
him by the media.

When chimes began to ring, Evan headed backstage, turning me
over to an usher who escorted me to my front row seat. Walking inside the grand
hall through plush velvet red drapery to witness the Fashionganza runway show,
I was in awe once again. The venue was spectacular. The catwalk was bright
white with faux snow around the edges. Hanging above, suspended on red and
green velvet cords that appeared to come from out of nowhere were multifaceted,
mirrored balls. Red and green lights skimmed over the room as the mirrored
balls spun making the room sparkle.

As I sat and waited for the show to begin, I scanned the
crowd. There were many glamorous faces, some of them famous, surrounding me;
handsome men suited up and stunning women in chic gowns.

The music started playing loudly, and the lighting took on a
more dramatic vibe. The catwalk sprung to life and I was entranced watching the
figures strut down the runway. On the women, the fashions were bold: Illogical.
Fun. Fantastic. Bizarre. The hair was pulled back severely on some models, and
on others it was piled high. The makeup was extremely dramatic, and facial
structures were pronounced; cheek bones were popping, eyes were dark, smoky and
intense, lips were pouty and bright red.

Next the men appeared. They were tailored, suave, debonair,
and statuesque with chiseled features. All at once a hush fell over the crowd.
Whispering began; a few moans and maybe even a purr or two invaded my ears as
Evan came into view. The ultimate male supermodel captured everyone’s attention
including mine. He was gorgeous strutting down the catwalk. I was totally
enchanted. He had such a presences about him; so confident. Watching I
fell into such a trance, I couldn't tell you what he was wearing, he could've
been naked; I was lost in his beauty. Funny, I looked at him all the time. But
seeing him strutting down the catwalk, he seemed like a stranger... not my
Evan.

After the fashion show, I was again escorted directly to
Evan’s side. With his hand on the small of my back, we made our way back to the
reception area for an after-party. I was in a sea of gorgeous people; even the wait-staff
was stunning. Champagne was promptly delivered into my hand by statuesque
female models in gowns covered in green sequins. C'est parfait pour moi!
Perfect for me! Hors d’oeuvres were hand-passed by male models dressed in black
slacks, white coats and red bow ties. Several people were trying to chat up
Evan, but he made a point to introduce me, never excluding me from his
conversations. I loved that he was so attentive to me, never leaving my side.

At one point of the evening, I excused myself, weaving my
way to the loo a bit tipsy thanks to those champagne glasses that kept finding
their way into my hand. I entered into the powder room elegantly decorated with
several silver ornately framed mirrors and red jeweled chandelier. I was
thrilled to find the room empty. Minus the usual line up of waiting women, I
whisked quickly into a stall. Within moments, I realized my timing was perfect
as I heard the click click of several high-heels on the marble floor. The
ladies were laughing and talking in hushed voices as they entered but just as I
was about to exit the stall, they began excitedly discussing the
show, and its main man, the eye candy they all showed up to see.

“The best part of the show was that hot Evan Duke.”