French Wanker - Victoria Pinder Page 0,28

both for dinner.”

I’d hated when my sisters stood there and listened to me, so I jumped into the water and doused my hair as the water.

My nipples were perky from the heat that met the cold air of the open door.

A minute later, I heard the floorboards squeaked, so I heard Quentin’s steps and from the crack in the door, I saw him strip off his shirt and pants, revealing his hard, muscular body.

My heart raced, and I hoped he joined me.

Then it was like I won the lottery when he slipped inside and closed the shower door. I didn’t protest.

“Who were you talking to?” I asked.

He picked up the soap and then used it on my back as he said, “My brother’s old friends we’re meeting. After we shower, let’s tour the beach and the resort.”

“Okay.” Brother? I meant to ask, but then his lips met the crook of my neck, and I moaned.

The steam in the shower grew and so did my libido. He fondled my boobs, and I arched to give him whatever he wanted. He sucked them into that mouth of his, and I sighed.

A moment later, he turned off the water, and my hunger for him grew as I backed into the still damp wall. He lifted my leg, and I wrapped it around him as he slipped a condom on that he must have dropped on the floor earlier and entered me.

My tension grew deeper and deeper until I hit a crescendo. Nothing else mattered but this moment. I heard him cry out for me, but I was too far gone.

Wow.

No one had ever done this to me. He kissed my cheeks as I gathered my senses, and then put the water back on.

The instant the cold water hit, it doused me back into my body. I helped scrub his back as he’d done mine. Fair play and all.

Lastly, I washed his wanker with a little extra play because he’d been so good to me.

Soon we were done, and he stepped out and handed me a towel.

I grabbed my bag to get a sundress when I saw my phone had a dozen messages. I picked it up while Quentin dressed to meet his friends and quickly typed out, Sabrina, I’m in Monte Carlo.

Then I quickly sent a picture I’d taken from when we checked in, and she typed back, Gorgeous.

Oh, she had no idea. I sucked on my bottom lip and decided I couldn’t contain the happiness inside me. Not half as gorgeous as the French guy I met.

I put on a white sundress I’d bought for my honeymoon. My phone beeped when I zipped up.

Quentin stepped onto the balcony, and for a moment I didn’t follow. Sabrina was a research director in Allegheny, so she spent tons of time on facts and figures, like me.

Thank goodness. We all hated Marlon.

I laughed at the message. My shoulders were like a weight lifted off me in that moment. Seriously? I wish she’d said that to me last week. You’re just saying that because we’re best friends.

That and it’s the truth.

I typed back quickly, So it’s okay to follow my heart with my sexy French man?

It’s about fucking time. You need a real man. No more jerks like your last.

Thank you

I waited and read Sabrina’s last message, Have fun, and we’ll see you at the airport next week.

I never wanted this week to end. Right now, I was on top of the world, and it wasn’t just because my body was warm and still sparking from the shower.

I turned off my phone and brushed out my hair. Satisfied that I was decent, I went out onto the balcony where Quentin put out a cigarette, the first one I’d seen him puff. “What were you doing?”

“Texting my best friend, Sabrina.”

“What did you tell her?” he asked and followed me inside, closing the door behind him.

I ignored the knot in my chest. We were only a week-long relationship. I had made too many mistakes for more than that. “That I was in Monte Carlo with this sexy wanker I met in Paris.”

His face blushed, but he handed me my sandals and checked his hair. A minute later we were out the door.

My cotton dress seemed dressed up in some corners of the hotel where people were in bikinis and too simple in other corners where a group all wore fancy dresses like they were off to a prom or a wedding.

I held onto Quentin’s arm, and he guided