Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Gritting my teeth and fighting waves of embarrassment, I dragged my body back into the kitchen.
I grabbed my bra and stuffed it into my bag. I should have stopped and put it on, but I had to get out of there. Flinging my handbag strap over my shoulder, I clutched my shirt closed and turned to Pierre. “ Au revoir , Pierre.”
With my eyes forward and my heart in my throat, I dashed out the door.
I scurried up the street clutching my bag to my chest like a junkie in paranoid mode. Thank God I didn’t have to go far. I must’ve looked like a complete nutter. Yet nobody seemed to care. Everyone I passed appeared to be on their own mission anyway.
As I stepped through the hostel doors, I prayed I wouldn’t see anybody I knew and blew out a breath when I made it to the elevator unimpeded. Jabbing the button a dozen times, I glanced over my shoulder like a thief on the run. The doors closed and I turned to the mirror.
My pupils were wide, and my hair was wild. I looked like I’d tumbled off a rollercoaster and landed in a hedge. My heart thumped in my ears, and my chest rose and fell with each ragged breath. I had come off a rollercoaster . . . an epic, emotional one.
I could still feel Pierre’s hands caressing my breasts, gliding up my inner thighs, nudging my sacred zone. Closing my eyes, I pictured our kiss. My insides squirmed at how wonderful he’d tasted. I’d been so aroused that if I hadn’t heard those people cackling, I probably would’ve had sex with him right there in the kitchen.
Shit . I’ll never be able to visit that restaurant again.
The elevator doors opened, and I stumbled out. My blood drained. Roman was right there.
“There you are. I was looking for you.” His eyebrows launched upward. His eyes widened. “Hey . . . are you okay?”
Oh, God. “Yes, yes I’m fine.” Resisting the urge to dive back into the elevator, I stepped into the hallway.
Placing his hand on my arm, he gave a gentle squeeze. “I can tell you’re not. What happened? Did someone hurt you?”
“No. Nothing like that. I tripped over, that’s all.”
He tilted his head, and his eyes narrowed as if he’d seen right through my lie. “Tell me what happened.”
I squeezed my bag tighter to my tits. “What’re you doing here?” Deflecting questions were usually my savior. “I thought you went out with the Americans.”
His honey eyes softened as they met mine. “I came to apologize for what I said upstairs.”
“Oh. It’s okay, it?—”
“No, it wasn’t okay. I was out of line. I’m sorry.”
“Apology accepted.”
When he frowned, and his eyes narrowed, I realized I’d accepted too quickly, making him even more suspicious. His gaze trailed down to my bag, still clutched across my chest. “What’s wrong with your bag? ”
“Oh, ummm, nothing.”
“Daisy, I have four sisters, and I can tell when something is wrong with any one of them. I’m not stupid. What happened? I need to know you’re all right.”
“I am. I just fell over, that’s?—”
“Liar.” Golden flecks flared in his eyes.
I gasped. “I beg your pardon.”
“I can tell you’re lying. You have the worst poker face.”
“I happen to be good at poker.”
“That doesn’t mean you have a good poker face.”
That was true. I could never bluff in a game of cards. “Okay, if you must know, I popped a few buttons.” Half the truth . . . I should be able to get away with that.
He rolled his eyes. “Oh, is that all? Why didn’t you just say so?”
I looked at the rust-colored carpet. “It’s embarrassing.”
Roman’s hand glided up to my shoulder, just like Pierre’s had done minutes ago. Two stunning men touching me in one night. One was amazing. Two was a miracle.
“As long as you’re not hurt.”
“Nope, all good.”
“I really am sorry for what I said.” He gave my shoulder a gentle rub, and the familiarity of it had all sorts of naughty things squirming inside me.
“It’s okay. You’re forgiven.” I wriggled past him so I could escape to my room. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
He jabbed the elevator call button. “Okay then. Have a good sleep.”
I made a dash down the hallway, unlocked the door, and closed it behind me in a nanosecond. My heart thumped as I placed my bag on the table and waited a few seconds to confirm Roman had actually gone. Satisfied, I went to the bed and flopped onto the covers.
As I stared up at the ornate scarlet ceiling, my mind spun in crazy loops. It was a vortex of thigh-quivering thrills and blind panic. One minute, my libido had been riding an exquisite knife edge; the next minute, my brain was about to explode.
I closed my eyes. The look on the faces of the middle-aged couple would be forever burned into my eyeballs. Wide eyes. Pointing fingers. Their cackling laughter.
How much had they seen?
My bare back. My bra flying across the kitchen. Me running naked.
I began giggling.
Soon I was laughing so hard, I could barely breathe. Happy tears streamed down my face. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d laughed like that, and with my photographic memory, that was saying something.
I’d considered myself a bit of a fun girl to be around. But fun girls laughed freely, with others and at themselves. Clearly, I was not.
Maybe Roman was right . . . on both counts. I had died on the inside, and I needed to get out more.
Regaining my composure, I sat up and examined what was left of my shirt. It was ruined. Not only had I ripped off the buttons, but I’d also torn the fabric. So even if I had the buttons, it would’ve been impossible to sew them back on.
I’m a wild woman.
Riding a wave of post-lust jubilation, I waddled to the bathroom and stared at my reflection. A rosy blush colored my cheeks. Was that from the emotional ride . . . Pierre and that kiss, being busted, and then bumping into Roman? Or was it the stirring in my dormant loins that still ached and throbbed?
I showered, put on the panties and T-shirt that served as my sleepwear, and brushed my teeth. A quick mental calculation confirmed it was six in the morning for Azalia. She’d be awake.
Grabbing my phone, I flopped onto the bed and tapped out a text message.
Morning babe, how was your night?
Hell. Mom had a bit of a bender. She searched the house for Dad for a few hours before she passed out on the lounge
Oh babe, I’m so sorry
Azalia’s father had died in a workplace accident when she was fourteen. The two of us had so much connection it was like we were destined to meet. I, too, lost my father at fourteen, although he didn’t actually die. He just became dead to me.
Nothing to be sorry about. Tell me you’re having a better night
Better . . . yes. Fucking weird though
Oh goodie. Do tell…
I started with Roman’s comment about me being old.
Asshole. But he’s got a point. You do need to get out more
Jeez. Don’t you start
If you won’t do it for yourself, do it for me. I’m dying here. Why don’t you try to go out just once on this trip?
Well . . .
What? What! Don’t keep me hanging
I couldn’t help the smile hovering on my lips as I tapped out every detail of my evening with Pierre. I told her everything from him telling me I was beautiful to the kiss of all kisses, to his wandering hands, to getting caught.
Holy fuck, babe. That’s a hoot. Wish I’d been there
No, you don’t. It wasn’t pretty
Not true. Pierre said you’re beautiful
He just wanted to get into my pants LOL
Ha. Well, it worked
Yep. I can’t believe I did it
Oh no. Don’t tell me. I bet you’re like, OMG, WTF have I done. I’m never gonna kiss a guy again. Or some shit
Damn, she’s a freak. Her poor son won’t be able to get away with anything.
No, I’m not
Really? Ok then. Are you going back to see Pierre?
I wanted to type ‘fuck no’ but as I pondered a less harsh response, my phone buzzed.
I knew it. Why not?
I huffed out a sigh.
t’s embarrassing
No, it’s not. You kissed a guy. A fucking hot guy, by the sounds of him. And he’s French. And a chef. Holy shit, I’m gonna cum in my pants. So what if some randoms saw you? They probs went home and fucked each other’s brains out, and they’re thanking you right now.
Zali had a knack for putting a positive spin on everything. Given her situation, it was probably her only way to keep sane.
You there???
I could picture the concern on her face as I stared at a freckle on my hand. It was darker than the others around it. Weird. Just like me.
Yeah
Stop worrying babe. Nothing happened that you could get arrested for
Public indecency!!!
Yeah. Nah. Not even that. Anyway, I gotta go. Thanks for the laugh
Glad I could help
We said our goodbyes and I put my phone onto charge on my bedside table. It was nearly midnight, and as if on cue, a yawn tumbled from my throat.
No matter how tired I was, I always read before sleep. It settled my overactive brain .
But when I went to fish my romance novel from my bag, I froze. It wasn’t there.
Shit. I’d left my book and the visa letter on the table at Pierre’s.
No way was I ever going back there, even after what Zali had said. It would be too weird. And it would probably give Pierre the impression I wanted to finish what we’d started.
Then again . . . maybe I did. Was that so bad?
I had no idea what the answer to that was.
My empty stomach twitched with a punishing reminder that if I never saw Pierre again, I would never eat his delicious soufflé au fromage in my favorite French restaurant.
The cruelest thought crawled through my brain like the plague . . . once I was booted out of Europe, there were many wonderful things that I may never get to do again. Let alone all the ones that I’d always planned to do but had never got around to.
God . . . I’d wasted so much time.
With that damn ticking clock in my head, it’s time to make things happen.