French Wanker - Victoria Pinder Page 0,14

and we both watched as a few of the older patrons made a makeshift dance floor and played slow French music.

I had no idea the words, but the haunting voice caught me off guard. I met his gaze and said, “Enough of me. What about you?”

He leaned closer. “I don’t have any sisters.”

“Brothers?” I asked, but his nearness made my skin jump.

He shook his head. “I’m the only child now.”

“You were totally spoiled then,” I said, though the now buzzed in my ear. Maybe his only child syndrome was why he seemed so confident to me. I had no idea what being alone was ever like, but maybe I missed a clue. I decided the now must be broken English.

“I don’t think French parents are quite the same,” he said.

My lips ached for his. I never wanted a kiss this bad, not even the first time. “You had their undivided attention as a child. I had to stand out in a crowd. Both teach you different things.”

“I suppose,” he said, and the tone in his voice made me close my eyes.

A moment later I was finally returned to bliss.

His lips on mine made me feel like I was one of those grapes on the vines needing to be plucked.

And Quentin’s touch might make me forget how I almost married a wet fish that never once made me feel… desired and special—like I finally realized how alive I was.

I had no idea the time as laughter on the dance floor continued to grow, and my lips were yummy and swollen when we stopped for air.

Quentin winked and said, “I’ll get a dessert for both of us.”

Huh? How could he walk? I was a mess. And he did have a funny strut with a cute backside.

I sipped the last of my wine and watched him.

He returned with a brownie and two forks.

Perfect. Sharing meant I didn’t get all the calories.

As he slipped back into his chair, two people followed behind him. The blonde from the check-in desk now held hands and a bottle with a nice-looking Frenchman. “Hi, I’m Chelsea, the owner, along with my husband. We’re stopping by to offer a free bottle of wine.”

“Merci,” Quentin said.

I tilted my head. This didn’t make sense in a business. Who gives away the product? “Why? We’d buy one as this glass is good.”

Chelsea said, “You two seem happy and in love.”

My face was warm, but I couldn’t let people think lies or accept gifts based on misconceptions. “Oh… We just met.”

The husband of the innkeeper said, “Well, you’re here on our anniversary, and I hope our special day brings you both romance.”

Now that made sense. I relaxed and said, “I hope your anniversary is amazing.”

And then we were alone. Quentin materialized a wine opener with his keys. Did all Frenchman carry them? I wasn’t sure, but he refilled my glass for me as I mused, “The moon is full.”

He just smiled at me, but his fingers brushed against my hand.

I scooted closer and ignored the glass. “So, that was my stupid way to invite you to come over here and let me kiss you again.” There. I’d put my offer on the table.

But he leaned closer and fixed a wisp of my hair behind my ear. “In a few minutes.”

Was I a bad kisser? I hadn’t felt anything with Marlon, but I’d rationalized it. But if he was so calm and collected, perhaps I had more issues than I wanted to admit. “What’s holding you back?”

His gaze had a twinkle when he held me close. “I’m just getting my cock under control.”

Ahh. Mr. Wanker was right here. I glanced at his pants and sipped my wine.

We watched the other couples, including the innkeeper and her husband on the floor for a song. And I didn’t dare touch Quentin.

Part of me wanted to throw caution to the wind. I was safe here. The air smelled sweet as I relaxed with my wine.

The only reason I didn’t was the small voice in my head that told me to be reasonable. One roll in a man’s bed wasn’t going to lead to a lifetime of happiness.

I wasn’t that stupid. I was heading to heartbreak city if I actually let myself fall for this handsome stranger.

As the next song came on, he stood and offered me his hand. “Come then.”

“What?” Goosebumps ran up my body.

He bowed and kissed my hand like a knight of old. “We’ll dance.”

I stood ,and he maneuvered me into his arms. “You don’t