22. Paris
TWENTY-TWO
PARIS
Austin walks me down the stairs, my small hand in his.
My legs are still weak and wobbly from what we just did, my entire body tingling as we quietly pad across the micro plush carpet.
According to the clock on the hallway wall, we were gone for over thirty minutes, and I’d be willing to bet our absences didn’t go unnoticed.
I feel like an asshole for letting Austin get me off in Jett and Bailey’s guest room, but the moment I stepped through the door and saw that desperate look in his eyes, my brain left the chat, and I was solely thinking with my vagina.
She may not make the soundest decisions, but they’re definitely more fun than anything her friend up north has ever come up with.
“Alright, baby. I’ll see you soon,” he says, bringing my knuckles up to his lips for a sweet kiss.
The move makes my heart squeeze in my chest, butterfly wings tickling deep in my stomach.
He’s so strong and sure, yet he’s incredibly gentle and romantic at the same time.
I don’t know how he does it, but I want more.
Peering up through my lashes, I bite my lower lip coyly, hoping he’ll give me what I’m craving.
As I knew he would, he reads me like a book, his head turning from left to right before he cups my cheek in his palm, dips down, and slants his mouth over mine.
My head spins, the smell of his cologne invading my senses and making my inner walls clench.
I’ve never been so desperate in my life, and even though I’m nervous about what may happen after we leave here, I’m completely sure that I want it with him.
He hums in satisfaction, pulling away with a wink. “You better get down there before I throw you over my shoulder and carry you out of this house. Just thinking about the way you sound when you come has me ready to leave without saying a word to anyone so I can hear it again.”
I giggle, my cheeks heating. He pulls the door open, giving me a small pat on the ass as I turn and head down the stairs.
The girls’ voices and whatever soft pop music they’ve got playing on the Bluetooth speaker mingle in the air, anxiety plucking at my nerves the closer I get to them.
The weightlessness and excitement from the last thirty minutes are fading fast, only to be replaced with the cold, hard realization that I may have to explain to them what took me so long.
I’m guessing, by the way Sydney practically shoved me upstairs and slammed the door in my face while the others weren’t looking, that she was an accomplice, but still. I don’t want to lie.
But I don’t want to tell the truth, either.
So. Fucking. Embarrassing.
My feet hit the floor, and I smooth my nightgown, more aware than ever of the wet spot that still lingers between my thighs.
It should feel wrong—dirty—that I let a man I’m not in a relationship with touch me the way Austin did, but I can’t bring myself to really believe that it’s either of those things.
Of course, I’m mortified that I didn’t have enough decorum to wait until we were in the privacy of one of our own homes to do it.
I just hope Bailey isn’t upset with me for sneaking away like that.
It takes a second for the girls to notice me standing there, still as a statue as an uncomfortable heat prickles at my skin.
I wring my hands together, shifting from one leg to the other anxiously while I try to come up with something to say that isn’t Sorry I was gone so long.
Austin Baker just fingered me in your guest room.
Great mattress, by the way. Five stars. But thankfully, Livvy catches me out of the corner of her eye, a knowing smirk pointed right at me as she breaks the ice.
“Another one bites the dust, Bay,” she says to her friend. “I hope she and Austin made a bigger mess than Maddox and I did. Then maybe you’ll stop roasting us at every single girls’ night.”
Bailey lifts a brow, dragging her gaze from my feet to my hair that’s no doubt a mess of tangles with the way I was writhing against the comforter.
“I’m not even mad this time. Whatever it takes to get those two to stop beating around the bush and fuck each other, I’m here for it.
Also”—she turns to Livvy—“nobody could make a bigger mess than you and your deviant fiancé. Either that guy’s loads could fill a swimming pool, or he has no refractory period. I haven’t figured out which yet.”
“That’s disgusting,” Finley chimes in, her eyes narrowing on Liv. “Which one is it, though?”
The older Grant sister scoffs. “None of your business.” She sweeps an arm in my direction. “Can we please focus on the newest member of the Kingsley Hotel Club? Spill, Paris. I’m dying to know if we were right about him.”
Every head in the room turns, their intense stares burning into me as I try to make sense of what the hell is going on.
There are a million questions running through my mind with the amount of information I was just given, and even though I should be explaining myself, my need for more context prevails.
“What’s the Kingsley Hotel Club?” I ask meekly, noticing how quickly everyone but Sydney goes quiet, looking around the room in an attempt to avoid eye contact with one another.
“Well,” Bailey replies, a hand on her hip, “apparently the bedrooms in this house all have imaginary signs above the doors that say Come in here to fuck. Every single one of the couples here tonight has desecrated my home except for Syd and Steele, which is wild if you think about it, since they’ll bang anywhere.
I thought that our sweet Finley here would stay strong, but nope.
Baby Dash was quite possibly conceived in the same room you just snuck into with our favorite retired quarterback.
” She scrunches her nose. “I live here, and I get less action than anyone.”
“You’re a new mom,” Stella points out. “Give it a few months, and you’ll be good to go. We all know Jett can’t keep his hands off you, especially now that you’ve had his baby. These football players are just a bunch of well-paid cavemen, really.”
“Felt that,” Fin says, raising her glass of sparkling water before throwing back its contents in one go. “Anyway, back to Paris. Everything…go well up there?”
Pressing my hands against my flaming hot cheeks, I cross the room, plopping down onto the plush couch next to Finley.
They all wait with bated breath for an answer to their question, but I’m having trouble saying the words out loud.
I want to be like them—bold, honest, and unafraid to say what they want.
I trust each of them, and I know whatever information I give won’t leave the privacy of these four walls, but it’s hard to shake the way I was taught that a lady should never speak freely about sex.
I’m not that girl anymore though, and I could really use their advice so I can be good for Austin.
“It went well,” I reply, focusing on one particular, very interesting spot on the wall.
“We umm…he kind of…got me off with his fingers.” I lift my gaze to Bailey, who stands there with the stem of her champagne flute pinched in her delicate grip as she leans into the spa table.
“I’m really sorry for doing it in your house.
That was very inappropriate and rude. It won’t happen again. ”
She scoffs, waving a dismissive hand. “Paris, I don’t give a shit about that.
We may joke around about this being the place everyone comes to have sex, but as long as you’re comfortable, consenting, and safe, that’s all that matters.
Besides, it’s Jett’s week to wash the bedding, so I won’t be inconvenienced in the least.” A smirk pulls at one corner of her mouth. “Did you have fun?”
It’s impossible to hold back the smile that blooms across my face, memories of Austin touching me and his dirty words playing on repeat in the back of my mind.
“I did. After the initial nerves wore off, it was so good. Mind-blowing, actually. I’ve never had a man touch me that way before, and we barely even did anything.
” I swallow the anxious lump in my throat.
“He wants me to go home with him after this.”
“Oh, bless!” Stella says, her arms lifting above her head as she looks to the ceiling. “After years of trying to get this man to willingly spend time with a woman, we’ve finally found his perfect match.”
Livvy chuckles, sitting up on the spa table. “Are you going to do it?”
I nod. “I am. I really, really like him. It’s been a long time since I’ve had sex with anyone, so that’s really scary.
But I want it. I’m just terrified that I won’t be able to provide the things he needs.
He told me he’s a…” I wring my hands in my lap, my eyes following the motion. “He’s a service dom.”
“Called it,” Sydney says arrogantly before bringing her attention back to me.
“There’s really nothing to be nervous about, Paris.
You’ve been providing those things since the day you met.
Maybe not in the way you are now, but by letting him take care of you when you are such a strong, independent woman, that’s a big deal.
Even something as small as accepting a cup of coffee when he knows you need a pick-me-up fulfills him. ”
Still seeing the uncertainty hidden behind my eyes, Bailey pushes up and strides toward me. Finley makes room, sliding to the far corner of the couch so Bailey has space to lower down beside me. I chew the inside of my cheek, my nerves calming slightly when she settles a hand on my knee.
“You’re enough, I promise,” she says. “Jett and I have a very similar dynamic, and it was weird for me at first, too. I didn’t understand how he could get pleasure solely from making me feel good.
I spent a lot of our first year together waiting for the other shoe to drop because, although I was doing everything to make sure he was satisfied, it seemed like he was doing all the heavy lifting in the relationship.
It didn’t matter how many times I watched him come just from touching me—I still didn’t believe that he wouldn’t wake up one day and say What’s in this for me?
But he’s right where he wants to be, just as I am.
And I have no doubt in my mind that the things you’re allowing Austin to do for you have him feeling the same way. ”
I nod my head, exhaling a slow, relaxing breath.
Austin crashed into my life without warning, and I started falling for him long before I knew this side of him.
It’s a little bit terrifying because I want him to feel as cared for and adored as I do, but I think there’s beauty in the fact that all I have to do is exist to make that happen.
I spent so many years trying to cram myself into a mold that wasn’t meant for me, wanting nothing more than to be the perfect daughter, wife, and mother for everyone around me.
I bent over backwards, going above and beyond every day, just to be told where I had fallen short.
But now I’m here, free from all the things that were holding me back from true happiness, with the most amazing man ready to give me more than I ever thought I was worthy of.
And all I have to do is let him.
I lift my gaze, a feeling of contentment like I’ve never known swelling in my chest. I may be headed into completely uncharted waters with Austin, but I’m excited to see where the night—and hopefully tomorrow—takes us.
“Alright, then,” I say with a grin. “I think I need another glass of champagne.”