OK MY WONDERFUL READERS. THERE ISN'T MUCH LEFT TO THIS ROMP. HERE'S GAY PARIS. I TOOK A DIFFERENT APPROACH WITH THE CHAPTER HOPE YOU LIKE IT AS MUCH AS I DO!
AS ALWAYS, A VERY BIG THANKS TO THE LOVELY MS. HOPESTREET WHO IS MY FAVORITE COMA NAZI!
Chapter 28
To: Taragirl gmail . com
From: Sooksie12 gmail . com
Re: Paris Day 1
Dear Tara,
My first full day in Paris! How can I even explain it?
We landed at night. We drove through Paris with every glittering light turned on, and I was dazzled! Of course I was also jet lagged and exhausted, so almost anything would have made me smile as long as it was terra firma! We got to the hotel, and I damn near fell asleep on the bed, clothes and all. It wasn't until Eric made me get up and look out the window that it hit me. I was staring at the Eiffel tower! I know it's a cliché, but seriously, nothing prepared me for the rush of awe and just pure love I felt then.
What did I ever do to deserve a guy who promises me Paris and delivers! If Gran could see me now! You think she'd like Eric?
We spent the first day walking around. My feet are killing me, but it was worth it. Paris is so beautiful! It's as if someone decided that even the ugly was going to be beautiful. Things decay here more gracefully than anywhere else. And not just buildings either. The people age so perfectly. The women here are all impeccable. Even the ladies who clean the hotel rooms have their hair done and their nails painted. There isn't an ugly pair of shoes or frumpy coat in the whole damn city!
We still have so much to see. Tomorrow we're going to check out a few museums.
I'll write back really soon,
Love, Sook.
To: Taragirl gmail . com
From: Sooksie12 gmail . com
Re: Paris Day 2
Tara!
To answer your question: no we haven't had hot Paris sex… yet. Although, did I tell you that Eric speaks French? I damn near fainted the first time I heard him speak… it was in the cab on the way to the hotel the night we landed. If I had two brain cells left at the time, I couldn't have been held responsible for the things I would have done to him in that damn taxi!
Oh! I saw the Mona Lisa. THE Mona Lisa! We spent most of the day at the Louvre. Again, we walked until our feet hurt. Again, it was sooo worth it.
We hardly spoke all day. We just took in the paintings and sculpture around us. We held hands, we sat on benches and looked at paintings longer than I thought I ever could. There were so many things you've seen before on TV and in books that when you see in person look completely different. I could have looked at the Venus de Milo for at least an extra hour and not have had enough of it.
Being here, my head has been flooded with so many ideas and images. A story keeps circling in my head like a fond memory. It keeps nagging at me. I'm glad I brought my laptop with me.
Off to dinner,
Love, Sook
To: Taragirl gmail . com
From: Sooksie12 gmail . com
Re: Paris Day 4
Ok, you little horn-dog, yes! We had hot Paris sex! It was yesterday morning. We woke up and simultaneously attacked each other. Why is sex on hotel sheets so much hotter?
We went shopping yesterday. I let him buy me clothes… and shoes… and lingerie… and bags. Before you ask me if he drugged me. No, he didn't even have to. There's something about being here that makes me feel… light? Giddy? Maybe just being crazy happy has made me drop my guard. Plus, seriously girl, the clothes here make me drool! We bought a pair of shoes that I know you're going to steal from me. Not to mention this seriously amazing red satin skirt! Oh, it would look so good with your sheer charcoal gray ruffled blouse. You know the one that I can't wear 'cause my boobs don't fit in it?
I won't get into the lingerie details but two words… Chantal Thomass. Google that.
Now I know you told me not to, but I couldn't help myself ,and I bought my future niece or nephew a bunch of French goodies. You'll find it your heart to forgive me when you see how beautiful some of this baby stuff is. I got some clothing that would be good for either a girl or boy, but the real kicker is the amazing diaper bag and blankets I got. I know, I know. You didn't want me spending too much money. But how could I possibly stop myself?
Love, Sook
PS: Remember that story I had floating through my head? I think I'm going to put some words down to paper. Do you think I could write a romance novel?
To: Taragirl gmail . com
From: Sooksie12 gmail . com
Re: Paris Day 5
Ok, here it is. I had so many ideas running through my head that I couldn't sleep! I wrote this in a whirlwind. I woke Eric up with my clicking away. Promise me you'll be kind ok? I know it's a naughty little interlude, but hell isn't that why people read romance novels anyway? That's why I do!
"It was too hot to sleep. Instead he lay on his side, propped up by his arm, just looking at the woman next to him. She had given everything up for him. Without the blessings of her father, she left with him that night at the opera. She married him. She followed him to India, and as she lay there sleeping, a bead of sweat made its way down her naked body, and he knew he could never repay her enough.
Her Victorian propriety had been abandoned in the heat. Gone were the pinafores and sleeping gowns. Gone were the heavy silks and corsets. She wrapped herself in colorful cottons and piled her hair up like the servant girls did. Of course, her blonde ringlets refused to ever stay put in the heat. By the end of the day, her hair was at her shoulders, sticking to the back of her neck… it only ever made him want to suck the heat from her skin.
He lowered his head to her sticky neck and licked. Her sweat was sweet and salty, like the air in Goa. She shifted her body. No longer on her back, she rested on her side exposing her spine, defined waist, her perfect buttocks, and long neck to him. Her hair was a tangled mess on the pillow. He traced his finger down from her shoulders to the crease where her thigh met her left cheek. She stirred.
"Again," she whispered.
He obliged with his tongue this time, taking in every moist drop of flesh as he went. She moaned and flipped onto her back. She looked at him wantonly.
"Again," she asked more assured.
He positioned himself over her legs, capturing her body. He leaned over and licked at the nape of her neck, eliciting the sweetest moan. He slowly made his way down her chest, over one creamy breast, down her stomach, until he reached the blonde curls of her sex. He paused to look up at the woman he loved, the woman that ran half way around the world with him, and staring back was a woman in need. Her mouth was open, her breath was fast and deep, her eyes were hooded and desperate for more.
He smiled to himself before lowering his head and dipping his tongue between her folds. She whimpered his name. The sound went straight to his already throbbing member. He couldn't wait to bury himself deep inside of her, but he wanted her wet and ready for him first.
He continued lapping at her moist center. She became more and more unsettled, squirming at every lick, at every warm breath. When he moved his efforts to her bundle of nerves, she raised her hips to him. It was with a delicious reckless abandon that she began panting, grabbing at his hair, and moaning his name. It was with sheer passion that she let go, cursing and convulsing as she let lose her nectar into his mouth.
No sooner had she lowered her hips than he had swiftly entered her now swollen and red sex. She gasped as he effortlessly rocked into her. Her beautiful curves were at his beck and call, and he played her like a master pianist. His large hands refused to loosen his hold as he gracefully pulled in and out of her needy body.
Their love lasted through the remaining shades of night. When the first glimmer of light reared its head, she shuddered as a wave of electricity passed through her body for the umpteenth time that night. He was an insatiable, needy savage when it came to her body, but she acquiesced to his desires every time. She had found that his need was nothing compared to hers, and as the oppressive heat of day began its inevitable march, he took his lover into his arms and led her to the ocean seeking a reprieve from the heat that would beat on them. But no ocean could ever cool their bodies or repress the never-ending heat for each other, though. At least, not as long as their flesh and hearts were so close to one another."
To: Taragirl gmail . com
From: Sooksie12 gmail . com
Re: Paris Day 7
Oh Tara!
Really? JB liked it too? Of course, the fact that you two got it on 3 times after was great… too much info, but great.
You really think I could make something of it? Eric thought it was really "fucking hot" that I could write something like that.
Tonight is New Years. I decided to wear this stunning dress that we bought together the other day. I know I brought one of Gran's dresses too, but this one is so shiny and perfect and somehow screams "Paris!" to me. It's this long slinky thing, dripping in silver sequins. It's amazing. He finally told me what the plans were for tonight. There's a party being thrown at a restaurant with a view of the Eiffel tower. We'll see how long we last… something tells me that the combination of him in a tux and me in this dress, won't make it a long evening. Wink!
Tara, please give JB a big New Years hug for me, and make sure that the peanut in your tummy knows that I'm sending love too!
-Sook
To: Taragirl gmail . com
From: Sooksie12 gmail . com
Re: Paris Day 9
Our last full day in Paris. It's been like a dream! New Years was amazing. The restaurant was lit by candles and twinkle lights only. The champagne was amazing and flowing like water, and everyone was stunning. Of course, no one could possibly look better in formal attire than Eric… well, maybe J.B. There was groping and dancing, and it was pretty much like every other New Year's party you've ever been to, except they were speaking French, oh ya, and the Eiffel tower was mere feet away. I didn't think we'd make it past midnight the way Eric kept looking at me all night. We didn't drink very much on purpose – we had other plans later in the evening of course.
The second the clock struck midnight he whisked me into a cab. Parisian sunrises are amazing by the way. Hehehe! That's right, kissing, fondling, and, ahem, other activities, all morning until sunrise. How did I get so lucky again?
We slept through the morning, had a late lunch, and walked to Notre Dame in the afternoon. The sun was coming through the rose window at just the right moment, and we were bathed in every color of the rainbow. It really was magical. We went back to the hotel and packed, and then took a nap before dinner. We ate and came back here, I wrote a little, and now I'm emailing you.
Here's another little snippet I wrote about. I'm still not sure what to call them. I can see Eric and I in everything I write, but I don't want to use our names. I had a name jump into my head, though, for her at least: Charlaine Harris. What do you think? Maybe Edgar for the guy? So this part would be earlier than the part I already sent you. Maybe right at the beginning? Not sure yet.
"Charlaine was betrothed to another. Her Father was no fool and knew what a handsome asset he had in his young beautiful daughter. Her Mother was no longer alive, and Charlaine's eccentric although loving Grandmother was the only other family Charlaine had. "Out of sight, out of mind" was her Father's philosophy when it came to the Grandmother, however. Although he was grateful for the summers Charlaine spent in Paris, the poise, and talents Paris provided Charlaine, he also knew the lax rules and forward thinking that her Grandmother was capable of. No daughter of Alistair Harris would be marrying anything other than a wealthy Englishman with superb connections.
Imagine Mr. Harris's utter delight when his long time competitor mentioned that his son had seen Charlaine, found her to be agreeable and was hoping to come to some sort of agreement in terms of marriage. Brilliant! Not only was it a wonderful business negotiation, but his daughter would be well taken care of. He wasn't a cad or evil man, just practical.
Their first meeting was to be at the opera. Mr. Harris would officially introduce Charlaine to her young suitor that night, and if all went well, there could be a wedding as soon as February. He had the dressmaker stop by to have something made especially for the occasion, and was certain that nothing could possibly ruin his perfectly laid out plans. Of course, fate was a fickle mistress. Had Mr. Harris had any interest at all in his daughter's heart, he would have known that she belonged to someone else already. A certain someone she had met in Paris - someone who would also be at the opera that night.
Charlaine knew that her Father didn't trust foreigners. She also knew she was an asset. She was a pretty prize that could be given away to the highest bidder. It was simply the way things were. When she met Edgar in Paris while painting in the Tuileries, she had to be wary. He was stunning. Tall, broad shouldered, blonde, with piercing blue eyes and sly little smile. He was fantastically wealthy it turned out, but it wouldn't matter to her Father.
They fell in love that summer. Charlaine's Grandmother was thrilled. She also knew the tribulations they would face back in England. However, they had a plan. Perhaps, if her Father could meet Edgar, possibly strike up a working relationship? Then, perhaps, over time, her Father could learn to like him. When the timing was right, she and Edgar could let their feelings be known.
They couldn't know, of course, that her Father had other plans. They couldn't know that Charlaine's fiancé had already been chosen and was going to be at the opera house. They couldn't know anything of these things. They also couldn't have known that in a moment of desperation, they would run away. They would go to Paris and get married with the blessings of Charlaine's Grandmother. They would travel to Venice and consummate their love. And in the end, they would move and live out their lives in the spicy, steamy heat of India."
So? Be honest, it's a lot right? Too much too soon? I'll work on it. I'll make it perfect! Damn girl, I'm almost more excited about the book than I am about my wedding… ALMOST!
Love ya! Sooks.
A/N
Ok, so? Whadya think? Have I mentioned yet how amazing it is that you faboo people got me over 700 revs? Seriously, I'm honored. Now ask me how jazzed I would be to get 1000? Don't. Have. The. Words.
That little plug aside, revs will get a little glimpse into the wedding fun that will be happening in the next chapters. I wasn't sure that I wanted to go there, to a wedding I mean, but seriously, I'm too much of a happy ending nerd not to.
Rev button presses, get wedding dress glimpses. Hehe, that almost rhymes!
