Chapter 21
“André, the septic tank is here,” I call, watching the giant plastic tube through the window. As each week passes, we manage to piece together more and more of the chateau.
“Venir.” His voice sounds like a whisper through these solid chateau walls. Luc and Pierre are already outside directing the driver where to park the truck. Within seconds André is beside me, and we watch Pierre direct the workmen where they are going to put the septic tank, while Luc watches. Toward André’s proverbial dig here sign, which he had already mapped out the exact location in fluorescent-pink paint.
“I still think it should be over there,” I grumble, trailing behind André. Still sore over losing the bridge match. André stops walking, and I almost ram into him and miss the glare he sends at me as Luc laughs.
“You lost that bridge match fair and square,” he deadpans. That’s the last time I pick Madeline for my team; she does not have a poker face.
“Oh, come on, who wants to play strip bridge when it’s eighty-nine degrees outside.”
“Not my fault you left your thermal pants on the nightstand.” André shrugs.
“Not my fault you hustled me,” I retort, causing André to bark out a laugh as he continues walking.
“Impératrice,” Luc tuts. “Just remember whose spot the septic tank is going in.”
“And just remember whose side are you on,” I throw at André. Because it really was all his fault. He just had to stand in for Luc.
“You may have won this one, but there are still months to go before our deadline.”
Luc smiles. “In due time, Impératrice, just remember that when you’re walking in on me when I’m in the shower,” he says before leaving me and André alone. I’m never going to live that down. It was a mistake and one time. Since then, I’ve been super cautious to knock on the door multiple times before entering the bathroom.
“He calls you Impératrice?” André asks, his eyebrows hitting his hairline.
“Yeah. Why, what does it mean?” I ask, grateful he skipped over the whole, I saw Luc naked bit.
André throws his head back and laughs. I’m sense Luc calling me Impératrice, is a bigger thing than I realized. “No, you’re going to have to find that one out yourself.” He leaves to go help Luc. I’ve spent a while learning so many new words and phrases, but that one has not come up yet.
I turn on my heel. “Do you want to tell me what Impératrice means?” I ask Pierre.
He just snorts and shakes his head. “Are you joking, you are going to have to figure that one out on your own.” He follows André up the staircase, leaving me on my own in the giant foyer, wondering what the fuck Impératrice means.
“Is it level?” Luc asks, standing on the top step of the ladder as he leans over, straightening the corners of the gilded frame.
“A little to the left,” I say, my fingers forming a rectangle, giving me a guide.
Luc moves the frame a little to the left. “And now?” he asks.
“A little to the right,” André calls around a mouthful of food as he walks into the sitting room, leaving croissant crumbs in his wake.
“A little more to the left.”
“Nope, too far, more right.” André hides his laugh behind his closed fist. “Ow,” he howls as I elbow him in the gut.
“Actually, that looks great,” I reluctantly admit as Luc finishes moving the painting a little more to the right.
“C’est fini,” Luc snaps, his arms tired, and steps down from the ladder.
“Anyone else has a problem with it, they can get on the ladder and do it themselves.”
André and I nod our heads. “Yes, sir,” we say in unison.
“I want to put the couch right under the windows.” I point to the spot where I want the couch that I found at the local flea market. The sitting room is coming together really well, and with a few more furnishings, it could almost pass for a room.
“Impératrice, I already told you that ratty thing isn’t staying.” Luc rolls his eyes. He can reason with me all he likes, in a few short minutes, the new couch I purchased will be entering the chateau whether he likes it or not.
“That’s funny.” I lick the tip of my index finger and hold it in the air. “Oh, that’s right. I don’t give a shit. I don’t even care if someone’s dog took a dump and rubbed it in the cushions. It’s going to sit right there.” I point at the vacant spot. Luc glares at me, only breaking our stare at the honk of a car horn in the driveway.
Ah, finally, it’s here.
“I’m not helping to bring it in.” He crosses his arms over his chest, like the empty threat is supposed to scare me.
“No problem.” I shrug. I have two men who are more than willing to help me lift and move whatever I want. “Besides, I have a feeling it might be a bit too heavy for you anyway.”
Luc scoffs. “Please.”
I yell, “They’re here.” I don’t need to say it twice; Henry and André arrive to meet the two elder women getting out of the car.
“Don’t you want to go out and supervise them?” Luc asks, closing the distance between us. They exchange the usual French pleasantries, and the older of the two women leads Henry around to the back of the trailer and opens the door. The new couch is poking half out of the top of the trailer.
I snicker. “Are you joking? This is the best view in the house.”
Luc and I both laugh at the slight shake of Henry’s head as a blank expression passes across his face and he scratches his head in confusion. André is trying to get away from the other woman, who has her arm firmly wrapped around his elbow, holding him securely to her side. Even from this far away, I can make out Henry’s lips moving rapidly, and André disconnects himself from the woman, who pouts from the loss of contact.
“You’re right,” Luc whispers. “This really is the best view in the house.”
From the corner of my eye, I catch Luc staring at me, but his gaze moves quickly to the window, almost making me think I imagined it. Both Henry and André try to move the couch from its precarious spot balancing on the metal rail above the door. With a hand on his hip, Henry frowns, scratches the top of his head, and stares at the ground, the grooves on his face deepening. André takes a few steps forward and pushes the top of the couch with both hands. It teeters slightly before clanging back down on the metal bar.
Henry throws his hands up in the air, his cheeks turning red and ruddy, and he yells at André, “Don’t damage the couch.”
That has Luc saying, “Damn, where is my popcorn.” I have to agree. This is going to be the funniest thing we’ve seen all day.
Henry clips André over the head as he drops the door of the trailer a bit harder than necessary, making a loud bang as it hits the gravel driveway.
I pull out my phone and secretly start recording. “I’m going to send this to Madeline. She is going to die.”
“What’s all this noise?” Pierre walks into the room, standing beside Luc. “Oooh, Aurora’s couch.”
“No, it’s a junkyard couch,” Luc grunts.
“That is going to sit right here,” I reply, adding extra sweetness to my voice.
“Am I going to hit anything?” André calls to Henry as he walks backward into the sitting room.
“Keep going straight,” Henry says offhandedly, not looking where André is going.
“Ow,” André cries as he nearly trips over a discarded bucket.
“Oops, didn’t see that,” Henry deadpans, not actually apologizing at all, causing us to double over in laughter.
“Are you serious,” André yells, stumbling over his feet again.
“Didn’t see that either,” Pierre says. Our eyes are glued to this couch as it ascends the staircase.
“Too close to the door,” Henry grounds out, almost hitting the door with the corner of the couch.
“Sorry, didn’t see it,” André replies, getting his own version of payback.
“Set it over here.” I point, trying to cover my laughter behind my hand.
Slowly the boys set the couch down just under the windowsill of my painting.
“That only took three hours,” André grumbles as he straightens.
“My favorite part was when she went to kiss you goodbye, and instead of kissing your cheek, she turned her head and kissed you on the lips,” Luc interrupts, causing Henry to laugh again.
“I’m just glad she wiped the lipstick off her teeth before she did,” André grumbles, wiping the back of his hand on his lips again for the fifth time.
“What did I tell you, boy, De-Fils men just have a way with the ladies.” Henry pats him on the shoulder.
It’s my night to sleep in the bed tonight, not that Luc really abides by that. All the nights that are his, I find myself waking up in the bed with his arms around me, but on my designated nights, he leaves me alone to sleep by myself. I toss in the small bed for the third time. Sleep is being a bitch and evading me. I’ve officially gotten used to sleeping in Luc’s arms. There’s a development I didn’t see coming. Every night that I’ve slept on the couch since we’ve been forced to sleep under the same roof, Luc carries me to the bed. I almost think I should give up on sleeping on the couch altogether and just come straight to the bed with him, but my stubborn streak won’t allow it.
“Is everything all right.” It wasn’t a question but rather a statement that startles me into opening my eyes to find the same ones from my dreams looking back at me.
“Just peachy,” I murmur, my fingers clamping down on the covers tucked all the way under my chin.
“Do you want company?”
It’s like he is missing me too. I swallow the cottony dryness in my mouth, as I take in his boxer-clad, well-toned body that even in this dim light is magnificent.
“No,” I breathe. Do I want company? Yes, I do. Do I want it to be Luc? Maybe, yes. But do I want it to cost me the chateau? Fuck no. Luc pulls the covers from my grasp, his thighs brushing against the back of mine, sending a jolt of electricity pulsing straight to my core as he settles in the bed beside me. I flip over, my nose almost colliding with his chin. “Isn’t it your night to be on the couch?” I grumble. In an attempt to get more comfortable in the bed, I accidentally knee him in the junk.
“Oooft,” he groans, cupping himself through his boxers.
“Oh shit, I’m so sorry.” The moonlight casts just enough light that I can see the flutter of his eyelashes against his cheeks.
“I’m going to have to wear protective gear to bed,” he huffs. “I’ve only just stopped wearing it when you drive.”
“I feel like I should be offended, but you and I both know my driving is nearly impeccable. There is a perfectly good couch for you in the other room, you know.”
“I prefer the perfectly good bed.”
“Well then.” I wiggle to the edge of the bed and yelp when large hands circle my hips.
“Nu-huh,” he whispers in my ear and drags me closer to him, “the only way this will work is if you sleep like this, Impératrice.” Luc slings my leg around his hip and pulls my chest to his bare one. I certainly wasn’t expecting this from Luc, the guy who seems to get off on being a massive pain in my ass. But the way my body responds as his hand runs slowly up and down my thigh, electrifying my skin, making my core throb the higher he touches, I can’t deny that I want this—I want him. Ugh, I want him. I shouldn’t want him. But I do. I should hate everything about him, he’s my enemy after all. So why do I feel more alive under his arms than I have for a long time. My breathing becomes shallow as arousal courses through my veins. My skin quivers under his touch. I need more. I need to feel his body against mine. The only thing separating his hot torso from mine is a flimsy T-shirt. My taut nipples seem to make that situation very known. Fuck. His other hand comes to rest on my rib cage, ghosting the underside of my breast.
“If only it was bigger,” I mumble, lust making my voice sound foreign even to my own ears. I just need to fuck him to get him out of my system and then we can go back to being enemies, that’s what I convince myself. It’s only going to be this one night.
“Trust me, Impératrice, it’s plenty big enough,” Luc replies, his voice so gruff it’s straight up ground gravel. I’m grateful for the darkness, because it hides how hot my cheeks are.
I clear my throat. “I was referring to the bed size,” I reply.
“So was I,” he whispers. But the growing bulge against my hip says otherwise. And from how hard it feels, Luc isn’t lying. It’s not plenty big. It’s huge. It’s not the first time I’ve felt it either. Luc’s big hand cups my butt, pulling my center closer to him. The heat of his hand driving me wild, soaking my panties.
“Fuck, it feels so good with your leg wrapped around me.”
Heat blooms across my chest. My wetness has soaked through my panties. I shift so I am more fully seated on his lap and take over, gyrating my hips over his hard dick. I tighten my fingers in the bedsheet every time the tip nudges over my clit. Luc lies underneath me, and even in the dark room, I can feel the intensity of his gaze on me. Luc, the man who took me to the doctor, and got them to come to the car because I was too scared. The man who has spent weeks teaching me how to speak French and how to drive. The man who is driving me wild, not just because he’s sweet but because he infuriates me. I suddenly want more of him.
“That’s a good girl.” Luc bites my bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth, and that’s it. Those two words. Ever since he messaged them to me, I’ve been dying to hear him say it, and now, I want to wring them from his lips again.
He releases my lip. “Say it again.”
“What?” His teeth sink into the plump flesh of his bottom lip as a groan tears from his chest, and it’s the match I needed to explode.
I place myself directly over his cock, enjoying the rigidness of him. “You wanna sit on my cock?” He reaches up and clasps the back of my neck, drawing my face down to his. “Like a good girl?” He smirks against my lips, knowing exactly what he’s doing to me. I take his bottom lip into my mouth, returning the favor, sucking and teasing it. Luc moves his other hand from my hip slowly up my side under my top and leisurely traces up my rib cage until he reaches my breasts. He takes his turn cupping each one before teasing my already stiff nipples into hard peaks. He breaks our kiss and helps me lift my top over my head. The cold air makes goose flesh erupt all over my skin, which Luc quickly soothes with his hot mouth. No coherent thought passes through my brain when he locks his lips onto my breast, paying extra attention to one while his hand continues with the other before he swaps. Jesus fuck, this man doesn’t just touch, he fucking worships.
“I can’t get enough of your tits,” he mumbles against my chest, biting my nipple and making me yelp. He quickly licks the spot, relieving the sting. My hands work their way down his chest straight to his tented boxers. The head of his dick is already sticking out the top of the band a bead of liquid is already forming at the top. My thumb swipes it off, and I lick it off my tongue, keeping my eyes on Luc as I do it. His honey depths turn to molten amber as he watches.
“Aurora.” His voice is a strangled cry.
I cock my head to the side and my hand finds itself wrapped around his hard length, and I give a firm pull. “Mm-hmm.” A seductive smile pulls at my lips. “That’s my name, baby. I’d love to hear you scream it out.”
“Oh, Aurora.” He leans up and nips my ear lobe. “Who told you my biggest weakness is a woman who takes charge.” His hand sneaks its way through my sleep shorts, his finger lightly tracing my slit.
“What can I say,” I pant. He dips the same finger into my wetness before circling my clit. “You may have your secret identity. So do I.”
A smirk touches his lips as he inserts his finger, pumping and curling it while his thumb takes over running circles around the tight numb. My hips buck and move, chasing the need for release. He adds a second finger as his lips descend on my neck, trailing hot kisses until he reaches my mouth. Our lips clash, dueling in a battle of pure pleasure. As he adds a second finger and a third. Pumping, circling, curling.
“Fuck, you’re squeezing my fingers hard.” He licks a line from my nipple up my chest. On and on his fingers continue with the most punishing pace. If this is my punishment, I’ll happily take it. Every. Single. Day. My muscles bunch as my skin electrifies. Luc bites my lower lip, and that is all I need to topple over the edge.
“Luc,” I scream at the top of my lungs. My vision becomes hazy, and my limbs become numb.
“That’s it, baby. Scream my name. Tell Carcen who is making you come.”
I must have blacked out for a moment, because I come to resting on Luc’s sweaty chest.
“There she is.” The light touch against my cheek has my eyelids fluttering.
“Shit.” I scramble off his chest. “I don’t remember the last time I came so hard.” I wipe the strands of hair that have fallen over my face. Luc’s hands come to rest on my hips again, holding me in place.
“Not so fast.”
“But I want to return the favor.” My bottom lip pouts as I grind myself over his still-hard dick.
“Not tonight, Aurora.”
I nod and rest my head on his chest. After a few beats of content silence, I say, “I hope you don’t think because you have magic hands I’m going to sign my share of the chateau over to you. You’re still my enemy, you know.”
Luc barks out a laugh. “Never would have dreamed of it.”
“I fully intend to do whatever it takes to inherit my share of this place.” I lift my head up so we’re eye to eye.
“As long as we’re both on the same page.” He nods. “I intend to do the same.”
“But that doesn’t mean we can’t explore some other things—you know, away from deadlines.”
“What kind of other things?”
I bite my bottom lip, my hand lightly tracing his chest. “The kind of other things that have people screaming in pleasure.” Luc stays quiet for a few minutes, mulling over what I’m proposing, before he finally says, “You’re on. Outside of the g?te, nothing changes. But make no mistake, Aurora, I won’t go down without a fight.”
“Oh, I’m counting on it.” I dot his lips with a quick kiss.