36. Hazel
HAZEL
I’ve baked cookies three days in a row. The guys, including the crew, can’t get enough of them. They told me I don’t need to keep making them, even though they keep devouring them, but the cookies are easy to make, and it feels good to do nice things for them.
I’m rolling dough into balls when Conal comes into the kitchen holding a little blue book. “For you,” he says.
“My passport? It’s here already?”
“We had it expedited. How’d you like to go to Paris?”
“Are you serious?”
He grins. “We can go this weekend. ”
“I’ll start packing. Do I need new clothes? How do people dress in Paris?”
“Do some research. We’ll take you shopping if you decide you need anything, or you can have the driver take you out.”
I end up buying a pair of nice pants, a couple of new tops, and a more stylish coat and bag. I feel funny spending money on myself, but the purchases seem reasonable.
The band’s jet is small and suitable for shorter trips, so they charter a larger private jet to Paris. The aircraft is a condensed version of the recording studio villa when it comes to luxury and comfort.
During the flight, we enjoy fine dining while relaxing in large, comfortable chairs. There’s even a bedroom on the plane, where I become a member of the mile-high club, three times over.
Luckily, we also manage to get some sleep over the Atlantic, because even though we leave Sin City in the early evening, it’s midday when we arrive in the City of Lights.
After we check in and get settled in a lavish suite at a fancy hotel, Conal asks what I want to do first.
“A walk would be nice, to stretch my legs. All the exercise I got on the plane was done lying down. ”
All three men smile at the memory.
The guys put on sunglasses to be less recognizable, and a few security men accompany us as we walk down the street from the hotel. The air is chilly and the sky is overcast, but the city is still beautiful, and I’m perfectly warm with Conal’s arm around me.
We come across a market section that has different specialty stores for produce, bread, meat, cheese, olives, flowers and more. It’s exactly what I envision when I think of Europe, and it’s enchanting.
We wander for a while, and end up with fresh baguettes and a few different cheeses that we take back to our suite. Snacking on the delicious food while sitting at the window, enjoying a dazzling view of the city, is all too wonderful to be real.
When we finish off the food, Conal goes into another room and comes back looking very pleased with himself. “We’ve got a surprise for you. C’mon.”
The security team drives us to another part of town, and despite my questions, Conal won’t give any clues. When we get out of the car, he leads me into a small boutique, where we’re greeted by a tiny woman who’s dressed very fashionably all in black.
“This is Madame Durand. She’s designing a dress for you. ”
A custom-designed dress? The off-the-rack places they’ve taken me to have already been far beyond what I’m used to, but this is another thing entirely. It takes a moment for me to pull myself together enough to respond appropriately.
Madame Durand doesn’t speak English, but communicates very well without it. She takes me into another room and gets my measurements, then sketches a few ideas and presents them to me.
I’ve gotten used to living in the giant villa in Vegas, being able to watch the Black Pythons in the studio, and even flying on private planes, but this experience makes my life feel surreal again.
I select a beguiling dress in a green that matches my eyes and sets off my hair. Madame communicates, through an assistant, that the dress will be ready the next day. I thank her with the little French I know and return to the men, still in a daze.
When we leave the boutique, we meet up with a private tour guide, who takes us to the Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame, and the Arc de Triomphe. I take countless photos, and they’re probably the only thing that will make me believe this dream of a trip is actually real.
Later, we go back to the hotel, change for dinner, and go to a tiny restaurant that we have all to ourselves.
It turns out that the men’s assistant arranged most of our itinerary, and they did an amazing job.
We’re treated to the chef’s favorite dishes, sent out in multiple courses, each paired with a different wine, everything incredibly fresh and delicious.
I’m very relaxed after all the wine, but not so tired that the four of us don’t have some fun in our hotel suite before we fall asleep together.
The next morning, after the best coffee and croissants I’ve ever had, we leave the city to visit the Palace at Versailles, where we spend most of the day. Of course, I capture photos of everything, but I also take time to just be present in the Baroque opulence of it all.
We make it back to the city in time to pick up my stunning dress, and also buy shoes and a tiny silk purse to go with it.
I feel like a princess in a fairytale when I put the dress on, and it’s a rockstar fairy tale, because when my men get dressed up, they’re sinfully sexy and so handsome in black jeans, boots, and silk shirts.
We make quite a stir when we walk into Le Cinq, an elegant Michelin-starred restaurant. Everyone stares at us, and murmurs run through the room. I have the feeling that people would like to pull out their phones and take pictures, but that would be considered gauche.
We’re seated in a small room apart from the main dining area, and the security guards keep watch. The food is exquisitely beautiful and delicious beyond words. It more than fulfills all my dreams of experiencing authentic French cuisine.
Back in our suite, the dreamlike quality of the evening continues.
The mood between us is different, as if all of us are caught up in the romance of the city.
When the men work together to remove my dress, when they kiss me, caress me, and slowly bring me to orgasm, their actions are tender and full of care.
When they have sex with me, we’re skin-to-skin, no condoms needed anymore, and it feels like we’re making love. I’m connected to them more intimately than I’ve ever been, physically and emotionally, and there’s nothing else to call it but love.
I’m in love with them—all three of them.
It’s wonderful, and makes me dizzyingly happy, but there’s a small edge of fear that comes along with it. I’ve never been so vulnerable before, but I remind myself that we’re married. I don’t need to worry.
I can let myself go, and feel safe in their arms, because even though they haven’t said it, I’m pretty sure they love me, too.
One by one, they fill me up with their love until I’m overflowing. I’m theirs, and they’re mine, and nothing has ever felt better.
I’m still smiling the next day, even though it’s time for us to leave Paris, because I’m leaving with my men.
“It was a quick trip,” Rafe says during our ride to the airport, “but did you enjoy it?”
“I loved every minute. Thank you.”
Bron’s big hand gives my knee a gentle squeeze. “We’ll be able to do more traveling once the album’s finished.”
Conal turns me toward him and steals a kiss. “This is only the beginning, babe.”