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It was now nearing six am. She really ought to try and get some sleep. Her people would soon be wandering back to the hotel, and if they got even a sniff of her still being awake, they would come knocking.
If she didn’t have the show in Paris the day after tomorrow, she would have changed their checkout and flight times. But soundchecks and concert rehearsals didn’t wait. Nor did the fans who would be waiting patiently for theChloe Jetto land at Paris Le Bourget airport.
And we don’t back out of commitments. The fans want this show. So do I.
Her cell buzzed.
I need to see you. Unfinished business. No backstage pass.
He didn’t want to come to her show. Didn’t want to see her perform. That stung more than it should. Maybe he was just keeping true to his need for a low profile. Heart racing, Chloe sent another message.
Paris. Late Thursday night. Le Meurice. Presidential Suite. I will leave your name at reception.
She’d barely had time to send it, before a reply pinged back.
Private liaison. Come to me, Chloe.
21 Rue Benjamin Franklin.
He wanted her to come to him. Chloe went straight back onto Google and checked out the address. It appeared to be an elegant block of private apartments situated a short distance from the Eiffel Tower.
Dare she risk it? Going to see a man who was basically a stranger. And what might happen once she arrived at the place where he was staying? Her fingers curled into tight balls of nervous energy. She could just visualize the headlines.
“Pop Princess Goes Missing. Fans Hold Candlelit Vigil”.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she sighed. “He’s from one of the richest families in the US, not that money matters, but if he decides to kidnap me, it won’t take much for The Feds to find out who and where he is. And Martin will know.”
Jordan was playing hard to get. She really ought to tell him to go away. That she was Chloe and men didn’t tell her what to do. They were the ones who begged for her attention, not the other way round.
And yet, you know damn well you are going to do what he says.
Memories of their all too brief a kiss dropped tantalizingly into her mind. That moment when Jordan had made her toes curl up in her high heel boots. His luscious scent had held her spellbound. She would have given anything for him to have slipped her jeans off and taken her there and then in the back of the limo.
Chloe brushed a hand over her silk pajama top. Her nipples were hard and sensitive. The pulse throbbing between her legs begged for intimate attention. Lust clouded her mind.
“Come to me,” she whispered. The lure of his words held her fast.
Her fingers tapped out a longer, more strategic reply to Jordan’s message.
Have checked U out online. No socials? Security team compiling dossier on Mister Jordan Royal. C U in Paris. C ?? ?? ??
She’d added the heart emojis and sent the message before she realized what she’d done. What would he think of them? She didn’t want to consider. Hopefully Jordan would barely notice, or just think she was being cute. So much for sultry siren.
Chloe set her phone on the desk. The thought of seeing Jordan again had her body making its demands known. It wanted release, and now.
After turning off all the lights in her suite, Chloe carried her laptop over to the bed. She propped it up with some pillows, then clicked open the website where she’d found the article and photo of Jordan. She enlarged the image with a quick tap and focus.
Her gaze remained on the photo of him standing in his beautifully tailor-made suit, bow tie teasingly askew, smiling at the camera. His whole seductive bad boy pose held the promise of everything, but mostly mischief.
Chloe spread her legs and settled back on the bed. Her hand slipped beneath the waistband of her PJs. A finger teased the entrance to her sex, and she let out a gasp.
Oh god, I am soaking wet.
She slid one, then two fingers deep into her heat, arching her back as she played with the sensitive bud of her clit. “Oh yes,” she murmured. Her other hand went to her left nipple, squeezing it hard. Punishing herself for pleasure. Self-love was the greatest release.
Imagining that it was Jordan who was touching her body, Chloe moaned as his fingers pleasured her long and slow. His smiling mouth sucked hard on her tits, driving her wild.
She crushed her nipple between her fingers, as the pace of her strokes grew more frenzied. Chloe crashed through into a blazing climax, crying out, “Jordan” as she came.
