Red Hot Obsessions (114 page)

Chapter 8
Ariane

THERE WAS NO STAYING IN bed late that Saturday morning. Peter’s plane would land at the crack of dawn, and since there was almost no traffic coming into the city from the airport on weekends, he would arrive quite early.

Even though she knew she should get out of bed right away, Ariane did not resist the temptation to roll over onto the cool side of the bed for a little while. As her hair scattered on the fresh pillow, she wondered what it would be like to wake up to someone every morning.

Ariane was trying to ascertain how she felt. She had been doing that more times than she could possibly count lately, and the truthful answer was that she didn’t really know. A few nights in a row, she had dreamed that she was knee-deep in fog. She could see infinite blue sky above her but had no clue what she was standing on. Under her bare feet she could feel the edges of a narrow wall or maybe a ledge. In her dream she had not been scared, just unsettled by the fact that she had no idea how long her fall would be if she missed a step and what she would land on. So, yes, she was a bit anxious about this new turn her life was taking, but she also was willing to give it a chance.

She tried very hard not to think about the fact that Patrick had never meant to let her go. To do so, she had kept herself very busy. But that wasn’t working. Every single time she stopped to breathe, a little voice in her head asked her the same questions. What had she done? What had possessed her to invite Peter to come spend the summer term with her in Paris?

Before Peter, her life had been just the way she wanted it to be. She had filled her life with her school, her students, and her friends and had been content. Her school was busy enough to allow her to live nicely and set aside some time to experiment. She was working on her own recipes, exploring new flavors. She was secretly preparing a new recipe book. Well, maybe not that secretly since Madame Caroline knew of her dream. One day, when she had been very happy with one of her creations, she had let Madame Caroline taste it and talked about her dream of putting together something worth publishing.

Ariane also wondered how Madame Caroline would get along with Peter. One thing was certain: Madame Caroline’s curiosity had been piqued enough for her to invite him to their next Sunday lunch. Come to think of it, it was a strange kind of invitation since Ariane would be providing the meal. The reality was that Ariane had been ordered to introduce Peter to the Queen Dowager of the rue Saint Dominique.

Ariane jumped out of bed. She put on a light terry robe and went to the bathroom to brush her teeth. She was just finishing when she heard a knock downstairs. She looked out her bedroom window. Peter had arrived. He was standing in the courtyard with a suitcase and a bag. He looked up and smiled at her. So this was really happening.

“The plane landed early,” he said.

“I’ll be right down.”

Okay, this was it. Ariane slowly went down the little staircase. She had planned to get all dolled up to look her best, but there was no time. Maybe this was for the best. He was getting a chance to run before settling in. This was the “What You See Is What You Get” version of Ariane. The WYSIWYG version included wild hair, a so-so terry robe, and a face devoid of any makeup. At least she had brushed her teeth. Her breath would be fresh.

She opened the door and let him in. He looked a little frumpy as well. What could you expect after seven hours on a plane? Frumpy, but yummy too. A little stubble shaded the lower half of his handsome face, but there was a twinkle in his eyes. He didn’t seem put out by her disheveled look.

“Did you just wake up?”

“I didn’t expect you for another half an hour. I was going to get dressed and prepare breakfast for you.”

“Then I’m happy the plane landed early. Breakfast is not what I had in mind as a treat for my arrival.”

He turned around to close the door behind him, dropped his luggage, and kissed her lightly on the mouth. “Come on. Show me the way.”

She turned around and led him through the dining room and up the stairs to her bedroom. She closed the window and drew the curtains—not enough to make the room dark, but enough to block the view into it. No need to give a morning show to Madame Caroline—or anyone else, for that matter!

Ariane picked up the sweater and T-shirt that Peter had dropped on the floor on his way to the bathroom. She set them aside on a chair by the door. She’d made room for him in one closet, but it was not the time to talk about that.

“So here we are,” he said, coming out of the bathroom and surveying the small bedroom. Ariane looked at him and held her breath. He was a sight to see. The waist button of his jeans was open and the pants hung loosely on his hips, revealing the torso of a man who took really good care of himself. More brown hair formed a “T” on his chest.

“Will you come to me now?” he asked. “I’ve made the first few thousand miles. You can do the final three steps.”

Ariane moved in his direction, almost feeling shy. She was fascinated by the hunger she could read in his eyes, a hunger that was the mirror image of the one that was overtaking her. When she was within his reach, he pulled at the belt of her robe, and with a slight shrug, she made it slide from her shoulder to the floor.

She took another step towards him and ran her hands down his chest, following the pattern of hair until she reached the obstacle of his jeans. With a hand on each hip, she pushed his pants and underwear down his legs so they would be equally naked. God, he was big! She needed to touch him. She reached out and wrapped her hand around his shaft. It felt soft and warm. He was longer than Patrick but not as thick. Oh, shit, she shouldn’t go there. She chased Patrick out of her mind and closed her eyes as Peter pushed her onto the unmade bed. He leaned over her and brought a hand between her legs. Tugging gently on her curls he said, “This has to go.”

“You’re sure?”

“Oh yes, I’m sure.” He chuckled.

Ariane looked at him through half closed lids as he slipped a finger between her folds and then another inside of her. He brought his hand back to his face and breathed in. “I love your smell. When the hair is gone, I will go drink at the source. For now, this will have to do.” He licked his finger.

Ariane’s eyes were transfixed on his mouth. A ball of fire was growing between her legs, and she arched up as his fingers found their way into her again. She forgot to breathe for a moment. Her lungs reminded her of their need painfully, and she was catching up with panting gasps. Never had she been so close so fast. It was like his presence turned on a switch, and there was nothing left but a mess of sensations running though her. His fingers left her entrance for her breasts. He wiped the moisture from his hand onto a nipple and then sucked on it while sliding his hand back down again. More fingers found their way in while his thumb stroked her most sensitive spot. A bite on her nipple sent electric shocks to her core, and her hips bucked against his hand. She forgot to breathe again. Her heart was a loud drum in her chest beating so hard it felt as if it wanted to get out.

“Please, Peter.”

“What do you want?”

She gasped. “You. In me. Now.”

“Oh, no. You’ll have to wait a little longer. I’m not done surveying my playground.”

He flipped her over onto her stomach and slid two pillows under her hips. Then he spread her legs and knelt between her thighs.

“I like that large mirror on the wall,” he said, pointing to the wall-to-wall closet sliding doors. “Ariane, please lift your head. Don’t bury it in the quilt between your arms. I want to be able to watch your face as I make you come.”

Ariane blushed, thought about it for an instant, and complied. She folded her arms and fisted one hand to rest her chin on. She looked at their reflection in the mirror. It was too much to take. He could watch her if he wanted, but she couldn’t. At least not yet. She closed her eyes when he stopped caressing her back and put himself in position, a hand on each hip.

“Are you ready for me, Ariane?” he asked in a husky tone.

She answered by raising her hips further to align herself with him. She could feel the tip of his shaft near her entrance.

He held back. “Talk to me. Are you ready?”

“Oui, yes. Oh, you have no idea how ready.” Her breath was ragged.

He plunged into her hard, pulled out gently, and stopped.

“Open your eyes,” he said.

She did and looked at his reflection in the mirror. He smiled and started moving again. He was filling her so completely she could not catch her breath.

“Too much?”

“No, don’t stop.”

He obliged with a smirk, and within an instant, she was a shivering mess, exploding in small pieces under him. One or two thrusts later he crumpled onto her back then rolled over to his side.

They lay side-by-side for a few minutes, Peter caressing her hair and placing small kisses on her shoulder.

“I’m not usually a hit-and-roll-over type of guy, but I didn’t sleep a wink on the plane,” he said, sliding under the quilt. “Do you mind if I try to catch up a little?”

“No, not at all.” Ariane gave him the pillows. “I’ll leave you alone for a little while? I have a couple of errands to run.”

“Sure. Just wake me up before noon so I can try to adjust to Paris time quickly.”

Ariane slid open one of the mirrored doors, took out some clothes and a pair of shoes, and went downstairs. Her handbag was on the dining room table. She fished out her cell phone, and after sliding into her clothes, she called Véronique, her best friend and marketing mentor. Surely, one of Véronique’s three beautician salons would be able to fit her in for a quick total wax.

Chapter 9
Peter

AROUND NOON, PETER WAS IN the bathroom brushing his teeth when Ariane came to check on him. He had brought his suitcase into the bedroom and opened it against a wall. Through the bathroom door he’d left ajar, he called her in. He was feeling human again. Nothing like a good shower and a clean shave to turn him into a new man.

When he walked out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, Ariane was sitting on the bed, taking her shoes off.

“Did you sleep well?” she asked.

“Yes and no. This place is incredibly quiet. It was really weird not to wake up to the sound of Manhattan traffic. I went looking for you when I got up. I found the chaussons aux pommes on the table. I ate them. I assumed those were for me.”

“They were. I thought you would be famished.”

“That was all I needed to get my strength back,” he said, dropping the towel to the floor to show that indeed the food and the nap had brought on a complete recovery.

Ariane laughed. “Wow, you really like French pastries!”

He pulled her up from the bed. “Only when they’re delivered by my favorite French chef.” He removed the pins from her hair to let it cascade around her face and unfastened the buttons of her shirt and the top button of her pants.

While he peeled away her shirt and bra, she stepped closer to him and ran the back of her hand along his freshly shaved jaw and then traced the contour of his lips with a finger.

“I have a surprise for you,” she said then tilted her head sideways and leaned forward to brush his lips with hers.

“Oh, good, I love surprises. What is it?” He unzipped her pants.

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise, now would it?”

“I guess not,” he said, looking for a clue in her eyes while helping her shimmy out of her pants and underwear. “Are you going to give me a clue?”

“Nope, but you’ll see it soon enough.”

“Patience has never been my forte.” He bent over to take a nipple in his mouth. He gently bit it while pinching the other with his fingers. “I have the means to make you talk, you know.”

He watched her pupils dilate as his hands slid down her back to her butt.

“Very convincing methods,” she whispered. “So I’ll give you hint. You’re getting closer.”

He took a step back and looked down between her legs. His breath got shorter, and he looked back in her eyes. “I love my surprise! Will you always be so quick to grant me my wishes?”

“I’m not sure. Hot wax there hurts like hell, and that’s an understatement. Before I grant you another wish I’m going to need a lot of convincing that this one was worth my while.”

“Oh, don’t worry, my pet. That I will do. I assure you the pain…”

“The major pain,” she said, interrupting him.

He smiled a very predatory smile and started again. “Okay, I can assure you that the major pain you suffered comes with serious rewards. I will demonstrate.”

Peter turned around to close the bedroom door and then the window. He made her sit on the edge of the bed and then asked, “If you scream, will the neighbors come running?”

“Yes. But I’m not vocal that way. I never scream.”

“Fine. But, just in case, please humor me and keep a pillow handy so you can scream into it.”

“Why not?” She shrugged her shoulders but grabbed a pillow.

Peter pushed her back onto the bed, and her hair spread around her like a sunburst. Her body was partly lit by the ray of sunlight seeping through the opening in the curtains. She had no idea what she was in for.

Peter kneeled at the foot of the bed. He started by setting her in the position he wanted. He put a hand on each of her knees, spread her legs apart, and placed each foot on the bed frame so she would have some support.

He caressed her thighs, quickly getting closer to the apex of her legs, and then touched the very sensitive bare skin. She purred like a kitten when one of his fingers slid down her nether lips. He chuckled. The kitten would soon be turning into a panther. He was going to make her roar.

Peter brought his mouth down on her and slowly licked her fold open while inserting one finger into her soaked opening. He loved how quickly she reacted to his touch. The tip of his tongue found her most sensitive spot and teased it very gently while he inserted a second finger into her.

In an instant the purrs turned into a continuous moan. He could feel her leg muscles contracting. As the teasing of his tongue grew more pronounced, she arched. Pushing her feet on the bed frame, she lifted her hips up to his face, searching for still more pressure. Instead of appeasing her, he went back to a lighter touch. She let out a small frustrated gasp. Her legs trembled. She had obviously been very close. Very close was all she would get for now. He wanted her to understand that he was in charge. So to make sure she understood it, he repeated the process. Every time, her moans grew louder, but after a while she no longer gasped in frustration when he slowed down. Instead she bucked against his fingers, testing and searching for a different source of release.

When she was covered with sweat and her entire body was trembling like a leaf, he decided it was time. He initiated the slow buildup once more, but instead of pulling back, he inserted a third finger into her and not so gently sucked on her sensitive nub.

Her entire body shook. A wild sound exploded from her, and before it grew louder, she grabbed the pillow and placed it over her face to muffle a scream. The tremors that shook her body made him come right then, too. He had not needed to enter her. The thrill of the power he held over her body had been enough.

He had sensed it right. That woman was going to drive him as mad as Kristina had. He climbed on the bed and lay next to her. Tossing the pillow away from her face, he pulled her over to him and held her while she came back to her senses.