Page 20 of Blue Eyes & Paris Vibes

“What are you so scared of, Abby? What is the worst that could happen?” I mumble to myself as I cross the riverside road to cross the bridge, away from the Eiffel tower and the crowd forming around it. I quicken my pace when it grows more dense, tourists elbowing each other out of the way to get the best selfie with the Eiffel tower and street vendors trying to sell their blinking memorabilia.

Whatisthe worst that could happen?

Reed is surprisingly nice. He’s handsome and smart and he makes me feel things, in my heart and my core, that I haven’t felt in a long time. And the fact he gave me his number must mean he feels similar, right?

My fingers itch with the urge to take out my phone and message him. I mean, best case I get a good fuck. Worst case… I’m not going to see him again anyways after my vacation here is over. I might as well go for it.

Finally, I’m far away from the crowds and take a deep breath as I climb down the stairs to the Seine shore. Just like yesterday, I sit down at the edge, letting my legs dangle above the green and blue water of the Seine

“You didn’t text,” a voice scolds me from behind, and I startle before I register that newly familiar, warm voice.

“I needed some time.” I smile weakly and glance at him as he climbs to a seat next to me. Only yesterday I wondered what it would be like to sit here with a partner. Now that I have a hot guy sitting next to me, I’m a bit overwhelmed.

“What for?” he asks worriedly and leans back, placing his arm behind me. It’s so warm against my back, sending goosebumps over my skin and making my heart beat faster.

“To think about whether I should text you,” I murmur and keep my eyes focused forward, feeling his gaze burn against my temple. ‘I’m glad you took that decision out of my hands,’ I silently add.

“And what’s the verdict?” He sounds amused.

I bite my lip. He appeared before I reached one. I don’t know if this will bring me more pain than joy, but what I know is that I will regret not following my heart. So I take a deep breath and turn my head to glance at him, breath hitching when I realize just how close his face is to mine.

“The verdict is that I need a romantic picture of me in front of the Eiffel tower,” I whisper and get up, taking my phone with me. “Come on, Reed. Up with you.”

“What for?” He lifts his perfectly shaped eyebrow at me, amused.

“Oh, you’ll see.” I shoot him a wink and look around. There’s a lovely older couple on a bench to our left that doesn’t look like they could outrun me if they decided to steal my phone. After a little language-difference-caused confusion, the woman gets up with a smile and agrees to take our picture.

Reed shoots me a curious look when I walk over to him, tilting his head in question.

“So you want a picture with me in front of the Eiffel tower.”

“I said I wanted a romantic picture.” I grin at him and step closer. “So, how about you kiss me like you mean it?”

The woman must have been a photographer or something. She directs us, tells us to pose and starts snapping pictures, her husband cheering us on in French.

I look up at Reed. He’s biting his lip and I lift my hand to pry it out from between his teeth. “Well?”

“You’re serious?” A small smile tugs on his lips and he leans closer, his breath feathering over my face as his eyes jump between mine imploringly.

“Hell ye—” The rest of the word is swallowed by his mouth crashing onto mine.

It’s not gentle. It’s not sweet. It’s like a fuse has been lit and we’re both burning through it fast. I gasp as his arms lock tight around my waist, dragging me into him like he’s been starving for this, and I rise up onto my toes, fingers tangling in the back of his hair.

His tongue parts my lips with a hunger that leaves no room for hesitation. I open to him willingly, hungrily, letting him taste me. The world blurs for a second when he tightens his grip and dips me back, his strength wrapping around me like a promise I never saw coming, and just like that, I forget all about the pictures.

When he grabs my leg and hitches it up around his hip, I move without thinking, anchoring myself to him as his hips press into mine. His scruff scrapes my skin, leaving sparks in its wake, and the way his mouth moves against mine, confident, rough, needing, makes my knees weaken. Thank God he’s holding me so tightly, there’s no way I could drop to the ground.

There’s no space left between us. No air, no words. Just heat. Just the fire of wanting someone so badly it leaves me breathless when he pulls me back upright and breaks the kiss.

Wow.I’m speechless. For only a short moment, we look at each other. The heat in his eyes warms my face and the only thing I’m capable of doing is to stare at him as he accepts my phone back from the lady and thanks her before putting it into the pocket of my jeans.

“Wow,” I whisper, making him chuckle. His lips look plump and—did I do that to his hair? God, he looks like he got ravished.

“Wow indeed,” he says lowly, stepping so close to me I can feel his body radiating warmth. “Do you want to do that again?”

My eyes meet his and I know with a certainty that I’ve seldom felt in my life: Yes. Yes, I do. But my mouth feels dry and like no words would come out so all I can do is nod.

“How about we continue at the hotel?” He raises his eyebrow in question, and I feel my heartbeat pick up and heat rushing to my core.

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