Page 75 of French Escapade

A few minutes later, we’re in the hotel’s reception area. I was expecting something more modest. It seems Ted decided we were in for a treat. And he’s booked one room for the both of us.

The woman at the front desks greets us as Mr. and Mrs. Dylan. I don’t care, so long as they give me the precious pass that will grant me access to a shower, a bed, and some time with Ken.

But once we’re finally alone, we turn awkward.

“You want to use the bathroom first?” he asks, looking at the room service menu.

“Sure.”

Once in there, I look in the mirror. I look like hell: dark circles under my eyes, I’m white as a ghost, and my hair is a mess. I undress. The bruise under my breast is spectacular. Without my vest, I would be in a drawer at the morgue.

Suddenly, I’m cold. I shake. A tear rolls down my cheek. I’m just starting to realize what’s happened in the last two days.

I’m not sure how long I stand there, facing the mirror. But after a while, Ken knocks on the door. “Élodie? Are you okay?”

The truth? No, I’m not.

I unlock the door and let him in. When he sees me crying, I spot the worry in his gaze. “What’s the matter?”

I pull him against me and whisper, “Don’t leave me alone.”

He cups my face with his hands and answers, “I’m here.”

“Kiss me. Make me forget it all.”

He obeys without hesitating. His lips cover mine. His hands move around my body. I’m not as cold anymore.

I reach out to him as well, sliding my hands under his T-shirt. His firm stomach is a delight to explore. My fingers run from bumps to valleys and I know he will be a sight to see.

He’s so solid. His muscles tell me that if he’s dangerous with a weapon, he’s just as deadly without.

I pull his shirt off and press myself against him. His skin against mine feels like heaven. His mouth leaves mine to kiss my face, my jaw, and explore my neck.

One of my hands reaches the waist of his jeans while the other works on the belt.

“Élodie, maybe we should … you’re hurt.”

“Only scratches. I need to feel you.”

I look into his eyes. His pupils are so wide that, if I had any doubts he really wanted me, they would be gone now.

He lets me pull his pants down. He helps me out of mine. We’re standing face to face, our underwear the last obstacle.

Ken reaches behind me to turn on the shower. Our kiss continues, and we are quickly wrapped in the steam of the hot water.

His hands push my bra straps off my shoulders, and his tongue follows. The back opens, and my breasts are freed from their lace jail, immediately replaced by the caress of my handsome military man.

My fingers hook in his underwear and I bring them down, freeing his proudly erect manhood. A second later, he does the same with the last piece of material standing between us. That’s when he backs me up in the huge shower.

Hot water pours on our burning bodies. My back rests against the tiles. I’m squeezed between the cool tiles of the wall and the sizzling man in front of me. His hands caress my thighs and slide between them in search of my wet folds.

His expert fingers drive me crazy. But when I go, I want to take him with me. “Ken,” I whisper. “I need more.”

Without making me ask again, he lifts me up as if I weigh nothing. I wrap my legs around his waist and he drives into me. His movements are perfect and lead us straight to paradise.

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