Hello! Welcome back to the story! This one fills you in a little about what happened in the 6 months that they have lived together.

We were going to return by 7 but the sunset was too beautiful. The orange glow around the city settled somewhere in the distance, emitting little sparks of pink here and there until the whole sky was submerged by it. Then the pink faded into dark blue. And then it was night.

We made our way back to the apartment at around 9pm, my hands full with a bag of treats Violet persuaded me to buy. I could have said no, but the desserts in this city are irresistible. And I want to try everything before we must head back to Chicago.

I tell Violet to wash her hands as soon as we enter because she spent at least an hour climbing some monkey bars in a park we stumbled upon, and her palms have turned to this dark gray color.

Eric appears in the doorway of our bedroom, chewing on the tip of his pen. He's wearing a pair of sweatpants and a white t-shirt. His reading glasses are black square frames around his eyes.

I place the bag by my feet and smile as he nods towards me.

"How was your meeting?"

"It was fine," he answers, "Productive."

I nod slowly, slipping off my shoes. There is an ache in my legs, probably from walking around all day. Thinking about going to bed with Eric while eating French treats almost makes me moan.

"You didn't call me," I say, sounding slightly hurt without meaning to. He clicks his pen repeatedly before shrugging.

"I trusted you were having fun," he smirks, "Which you were."

I blink and he is gone. I catch a glimpse of his back as he makes his way back to his work responsibilities. I roll my eyes before going into the bathroom where all the water is running. Violet turns the tap off and dries her hands. We bump into each other in the doorway.

"Go say hi to your dad," I tell her, switching positions to wash my hands as well. As the warm water spills over my hands, I see how pink my face is. Damn, I know I put sunscreen on. Clearly, it wasn't enough. The blue in my eyes stands out more against this new darker skin.

After drying my hands, I take care of the bag I left near the door. I walk to the coffee table in the middle of the living room, scattering the brown paper bags across the surface. They are all different sizes and some packages have spots of grease from the baked goods. The smell is warm and sweet. I smile to myself as I reach for one bag, but then I must stop myself.

I look up and see that Violet is watching me from the other side of the room, her hands folded, her eyebrows raised, "I get the first pick."

"Of course," I smirk, remembering that she is the priority in the family. I feel my stomach knot at the word 'family'. But that's the only word I can use to describe our little group, "Eric, come here!"

"I'm busy!" he yells back. Violet grins at me, sitting cross-legged on the floor and resting her arms on the table.

"He's working on a report or something," she confirms, tilting her chin up and scanning the small packages, "I guess we could… EAT THEM BY OURSELVES!" she yells the last part of the sentence, looking at her dad's bedroom door.

There is no response. We only hear vicious typing on a keyboard.

I roll my eyes and we both laugh, "Come on, pick one. I'll make us some drinks."

SHSHSHSHSHSH

Violet is fast asleep in her bed. I slip into a light brown, satin night gown Eric got me for Valentine's Day. Back then, I considered it to be a joke. I thought I would never wear it. But I ended up wearing it almost every week. It's comfortable and makes me feel way more attractive than I am. It has lace on the collarbone and the rest of it is simple, flowing down to my thighs.

I twirl in the mirror before going over to the busy business man at his desk. It overlooks the Eiffel Tower, just like the living room. His laptop seems to be blocking most of the view though.

"Eric," I start, wrapping my arms from behind him. He tenses up momentarily before relaxing again. The typing at his laptop does not stop, "Are you sure the meeting went well?"

He catches one of my hands in his as I lower them onto his chest. He switches from typing to jotting down notes on his notepad next to the MacBook, "It was fine. I just have to take care of a few things."

I lean in, resting my nose on the top of his head. Still smells like him, "Can you take a break?"

"Not right now," I feel his lips on the top of my hand before he starts typing again.

This has happened once before, and he kept telling me that the distractions will get him fired.

"But you're the boss," I made a valid point. He went out of the room, scratching the back of his head. And then we had a massive argument.

It was fine. It was our first major argument but it was fine. We both felt bad afterward- me for distracting him from important work. Him, for yelling at me. We ordered pizza and binge watched The Walking Dead, taking notes on how no matter how bad things get, they can always get worse. Zombie apocalypse worse.

He didn't touch his laptop for a week after that argument.

"We leave after tomorrow," I say, kissing the back of his head, "Surely you want to spend this time with me before it's gone."

I feel him relax a bit more as he leans back in his seat. He takes off his glasses with one hand, rubbing his face, "I'll take you out tomorrow. We can spend the day together if you like."

I open my mouth to ask about Violet-

"I can get someone to watch her. I know people here," he sighs again, tipping his head back until our eyes meet, "And then we can go wherever you want."

"Really?"

"Yes."

I lean down to peck his lips, a small smile coming to my face, "It's late… can't we just chill now?"

He smirks at me and sits up. I take a step back, "Chill?"

"Yeah," I come closer, rubbing myself against his arm. He takes me by the hips and pulls me onto his lap, "I can do that thing you like."

His smile broadens, tired eyes going to my lips, "Chill?" he repeats, "Is that new slang kids are using these days?"

I roll my eyes, knowing he is trying to get a reaction out of me, "Kids? I'm not a kid."

"I'm older," he says, gently kissing the corner of my mouth.

I laugh, rolling my eyes again, "Are we having sex or not?"

A chuckle surfaces from somewhere deep within his chest and I know the answer by the way he burrows his face in my neck.

SHSHSHSHSHSH

Back when Susan wrecked my car and my face, I was afraid she would come after me again. I trusted Eric. I trusted he would lock her up somewhere far away from where we are, but then I started to think about it. And I knew he would not send her to jail.

It started to dig at me, the paranoia. I thought she would be back again. Constantly, I was looking out of the living room window, down at the car park to see if I could spot a woman with an expensive fur coat… or a woman covered in mud, with a knife in her hand. That is how unpredictable she was. I did not know what to expect.

One night, I was rubbing cream all over my wound, the cream a doctor has recommended.

"Apply it daily, and your skin should heal and get some color back in time," he said, nodding and smiling.

I listened to him. I looked at myself in the mirror to see one side of my face snow white, and the other with a fresh tear, irritating my cheek and provoking a pink glow to appear. I wiped it away quickly, telling myself to man up. The cream would work; the wound would heal. I would be fine.

It was never about the wound though. I don't know why he was showing Susan mercy, and I didn't want to admit that I was jealous. I wasn't jealous. I just knew that they had history.

He came up behind me, wrapping me in his arms and kissing the back of my head, "Does it hurt?"

I shook my head, sniffing, "No."

He turned me around, leaning in to kiss me. When he pulled back, there was cream on his chin.

I laughed until the only thing that could shut me up was his mouth on my mouth.

"Where are you planning on taking me?" I ask, straddling him on the bed. Our apartment has gone quiet, signifying that Violet is indeed asleep. Although, if I know her well enough, she's probably under the covers with a flashlight, reading her comics.

Eric runs his hands up my legs, grabbing the bare skin on my hips. I shudder, allowing myself to release a moan. He smirks up at me, pupils dilating with lust.

"Wine tasting."

I laugh without thinking about it, "You're gonna make me drink your wine?"

He smirks, shaking his head, "It's not my wine. It's just wine. But if you find that funny, then I guess we'll have to settle for a walk in the park."

"I will love wherever you take me," I confirm, leaning down to kiss him. His response is enthusiastic: he flips us over, putting down enough of his weight on top of me to push all the air out of my lungs. I gasp, laughing when the sugar hits my brain. Eric juts his chin to the side, inspecting my reactions.

"This is why I don't indulge in French bakery," he comments, lifting himself up slightly when another laugh seems to be squeezed out of me.

"You don't indulge in anything."

He shakes his head, knowing there is no point in speaking as I have already opened my mouth.

"Try one. Come on. Ruin your diet," I giggle, poking his shoulder.

"I'm not on a diet," he clears his throat, looking out of the window. I almost roll my eyes at him.

"What's wrong with you? Stop being so grumpy."

He smiles at me then, laying down next to my body. His front presses against my back until I feel his erection nudging my backside. I shiver, allowing myself to be enveloped by his arms. His breath tickles the side of my neck. I stay quiet, although my legs twitch impatiently. His hand brushes some hair out of my face and due to him unable to see the features from his angle, he accidentally pokes me in the eye.

"Sorry, babe," he plants a kiss on my shoulder which manages to tip me over the edge all the time. I close my eyes, feeling a warm wetness pooling between my thighs. I push my hips back against his, smiling when he starts grinding back.

I hear the shuffling of his sweatpants before he releases a soft groan in my ear.

I look back at him to be greeted with a passionate kiss. He holds my head in place as his arm moves under my body and twists around my waist.

Eric slides into me without further hesitation. We had a chat about that. Most of the time I tell him to skip foreplay.

"No bullshit," I breathed on his face on the night Violet got to sleepover at her friend's house. He took me there and then, on the sofa in the living room. No bullshit. That is our motto.

I throw my head back when his lips attach to my neck as he starts to move inside me. I have been on the pill for about three months now. We have come to an agreement on birth control since condoms come to be more expensive.

His hand runs up my nightgown, groping whatever he finds first. I grind back against him, losing breath quite quickly. There is a honking car down on the streets which briefly masks my moan.

I feel Eric's smile on my neck as he holds me from arching my back too much.

It doesn't last too long, which is even better for me because I get to eat more croissants. Don't get me wrong, the sex is great, but French food is hard to beat.

Hope you liked the second chapter. As you have noticed, the rating changed to M for obvious reasons.

Review :)