Chapter Three
Brooke couldn’t believe she had woken up in Paris. It had been a long time since she’d visited the city of love, and it was the first time she’d ever been to Paris with the woman she was in love with. This trip had all been Anna’s idea, and Anna’s treat, too. She had insisted.
For their second anniversary, Anna wanted to take Brooke on a trip.
They’d been on a few long weekend trips all throughout the States over the past two years, but they hadn’t done anything as extravagant as their first trip had been, and Anna had insisted it was high time they had another week-long adventure overseas.
It made sense, then, that Anna would pick somewhere that was important to her.
While she hadn’t grown up in France, Anna’s mother, whom Brooke absolutely adored, had.
And Anna’s mother had listed out all of the places she thought they needed to see.
Marie-Claire Fourchette had been born and raised in France and hadn’t left until she was in her mid-twenties.
She had immigrated for love, blindly following Anna’s father back to his home country.
Apparently, they hadn’t lasted together for all that long in the States, and if not for Anna and then their car wreck, Marie-Claire had fully intended to return to France.
As it was, she had armed them with not only a list of places they needed to visit, but another, only slightly shorter list of people they needed to see.
They had arrived late the night before, jet lagged and exhausted, and had promptly found their way to their hotel, showered, and fallen asleep.
Brooke finally blinked open her eyes to the softness of the morning.
The sun had already started to rise and was gently illuminating the edges of their hotel room.
Anna had chosen well. Brooke had insisted that they didn’t have to do anything fancy, but Anna said two years together was worth celebrating.
As Brooke finally took in the room, it became more apparent that Anna had meant it.
“Good morning, Honey,” Anna said, her voice soft and comforting.
When they first started dating, Brooke hadn’t expected Anna to wake before her so often given Anna’s sometimes late hours at her restaurant. But more often than not, she’d be awake and reading by the time Brooke woke up. This morning, it seemed, was no different.
Another thing Brooke hadn’t expected was to still love snuggling as much as she had in the beginning, two years in. She was nestled tightly into Anna’s side, all but clinging to her, her face buried in the soft side of Anna’s barely covered breast.
Not long after they started dating, Anna had taken to sleeping in these delightfully thin strapped tank tops that barely left anything to the imagination. Brooke could probably write poetry about them.
“Good morning,” she finally returned, looking up at her girlfriend, her breath still catching at the sight.
Anna’s dark hair was longer now, down to her shoulder blades and mussed from sleeping on it while it was still damp.
The smile lines around the edges of Anna’s dark brown eyes deepened in response to Brooke’s muffled greeting.
Brooke was so, so, incredibly lucky. “We’re in Paris,” she said, her voice still sleepy, but obviously happy.
“We are,” Anna mused. She slipped her bookmark into place and set the book down on the bedside table. She wiggled down so that she was low enough to pull Brooke into a passionate good morning kiss.
It was a kiss that quickly morphed into something more as Anna stealthily rolled herself on top of Brooke. Anna pulled back to kiss along the edge of Brooke’s jaw and follow the curve of her neck.
“What time is it?” Brooke rasped.
Anna stopped sucking on Brooke’s pulse point for just long enough to murmur, “no clue.”
Brooke nodded, careful to not head-butt her girlfriend in the process.
“Do we have a timed event lined up for today?” She had let Anna plan their entire itinerary.
Her friends had teased her for weeks about it.
Not that anyone thought that Anna would do a bad job in trip preparation, everyone in their lives had more faith in Anna than that.
But, to put it lightly, Brooke was a tiny bit of a control freak, and for her to happily let Anna plan an entire trip meant something. Something serious.
The kind of serious that Brooke had a plan for when they got home. She’d asked her friends about planning something for this trip, but they had all encouraged her to wait. To let Anna take the lead for their anniversary, and then do it when they got home.
Christine had even gently pointed out that if Brooke took the ring she had already purchased, it would just be a source of stress for her for the entire trip.
She’d be worried that she’d lost it, or that her luggage wouldn’t arrive.
She’d have to be sneaky with it around the hotel room.
She’d have to magically know when the perfect moment was going to be because she hadn’t been the one to plan anything.
Christine’s point had been valid, it would be better to just wait for when they arrived back home.
“Not until this evening,” Anna said, pulling Brooke from her thoughts about the ring she had waiting for Anna when they got home.
Brooke nodded. “Perfect,” she gasped as Anna tongue licked back up the length of her throat.
“Can we fuck in Paris now?” Anna asked, her grin far sweeter than her words.
“Yeah. Yep. Absolutely.” Brooke flipped them over with practiced ease. Though the sudden movement coaxed the most adorable squeak out of Anna.
Anna laughed as Brooke tugged her ridiculous tank-top down, exposing her breasts. With nothing on their agenda for most of the day Brooke took her time, settling down on top of Anna, tasting every inch of her skin with her lips and her tongue.
“Off,” Anna breathed, tugging at the hem of Brooke’s pajama top.
Brooke pulled back just enough to yank the fabric up, over her head. Before diving back in, she paused to properly remove Anna’s tank-top and savor the view.
“I love you,” Anna said, smiling up at her. Her long hair was fanned out above her, covering the hotel’s pristine white pillowcase like a halo. She looked angelic in the glow of the morning sun.
“I love you, too,” Brooke said. Her hands slid down Anna’s sides, settling on her hips. “These too?” She asked, her fingertips tracing along the edges of Anna’s sleep shorts.
Anna nodded, biting her bottom lip, fighting her smile. She lifted her hips, making it easier for Brooke to pull her shorts off.
Brooke was all for foreplay, she truly was.
Over the past two years she’d learned that it was completely possible to get Anna off without ever actually touching her directly and, when they had the time, it was still Brooke’s favorite thing to do.
At the moment however, she felt desperate.
She could see how wet Anna had already gotten for her and she needed to taste it.
She could hardly delay herself that simple pleasure.
Her tongue traced up the inside of Anna’s thigh and down the other, skipping over the best part in between.
A moan ripped from her throat as Anna’s fingers tangled in her hair, tugging with that delicious, less than gentle-but-not-painful force that Anna had perfected.
Clearly, her girlfriend didn’t want to wait any longer either.
That was enough of a request for Brooke.
She settled lower, looping her arms under the backs of Anna’s thighs, pulling her farther down the bed into place.
Another delightful thing that she’d learned over the years was that Anna liked to be manhandled.
As if to illustrate that point, Anna’s grip tightened, ever so hungrily in Brooke’s hair, pulling Brooke’s face down closer to her desire.
Brooke didn’t make either of them resist any longer.
She moaned as she finally coated her tongue in Anna’s pleasure.
As she licked deeper, circling Anna’s clit, Anna’s hand—which was still tangled in Brooke’s hair—relaxed.
“Fuck,” Anna whimpered, fully letting go of Brooke to grip the fancy hotel sheets beneath her.
Brooke hummed in acknowledgement, loving the way Anna always rolled her hips in response to the vibrations of Brooke’s throat.
She looked up, savoring the way Anna’s head was tipped back, her eyebrows drawn together, her lips parted, panting.
She watched the ragged rise and fall of Anna’s breasts, her nipples still hard from Brooke’s earlier attention.
With one arm gently, but firmly, pinning Anna’s hips to the mattress, Brooke slid her other hand down, pausing with her mouth for just long enough to suck on three of her fingers. Anna’s attention snapped to her with unblinking desire.
“Can I go in you?” Brooke asked. She knew the answer. She knew that having Brooke buried three fingers deep was Anna’s absolute favorite pastime, but Brooke liked to hear the quiver in Anna’s voice every time she said it. Knowing it and hearing it were two incredibly different highs.
Anna nodded, a little moan of anticipation slipping out.
Brooke lifted an eyebrow. Anna absolutely already knew what that meant.
“Please,” she whispered, her voice rough and heady. “Please go in me.”
Brooke leaned back just enough to get an aerial view of her fingers as they entered Anna.
She worked them in with a gentle, practiced precision that could only be so smoothly achieved with years of careful study.
She waited patiently, letting Anna relax around her before she pulled them back out, almost all the way, before sinking back in.