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“You understood that?”
“Oui. My French is getting better, at least curse words.”
“Alors, viens pour moi,” I tell her, translating in case she doesn’t understand. “Then come for me. Now.”
I kiss her, claiming her mouth as I claim her body, and claiming her heart as she’s done mine. She comes once more, though it’s smaller than the previous ones, a ripple working though her before she relaxes in a puddle of satisfaction.
I release her hands and let her move her legs as I press tiny kisses over her salty skin, along her jaw, on her freckled cheeks, and at the tip of her nose. She’s still for a bit, letting me love her and luxuriating in the attention, until she suddenly goes rigid.
“Where’s Xerxes? This is the point where he’s scratching on the door or trying to jump in the bed,” she says, stressed about my crazy jealous dog.
I chuckle. “He’s with Tobias, still in Paris. But he’ll be coming over soon. This trip was a bit last-minute, and I hoped to be busy with getting everything ready.” I look around the room that is not particularly impressive. It needs paint, new flooring, and more furniture. And a really deep clean. “How’d I do?”
Autumn doesn’t look at the apartment or talk about the studio downstairs. She doesn’t look at the rock of a ring I slipped on her finger or the expensive chain on her neck. Her eyes never leave mine. “You’re amazing,” she sighs. “I mean, you did amazingly.” The correction is unneeded because I’m quite sure she said what she meant the first time.
“Yeah, I’m pretty good like that,” I tease.
