me onto my back, holding my hands above my head. “Your mind is a fucking turn on,” he breathes before his tongue gently explores my mouth.
I just can’t get my fill of this guy. “I could say the same thing. I’ve never had bilingual sex before.” I smile. Hell, most guys I’ve slept with can’t even speak English to me when we have sex, let alone drop in and out of three languages.
He smiles as he bites my bottom lip and pulls it toward him. “Moi non plus. Je peux être accro.”
Translation: Me neither. I may be addicted.
I have always had a love of languages. They were my stress reliever when I was in high school and my parents were divorcing. I would lock myself in my bedroom and listen to language tapes through headphones so I couldn’t hear them fighting. Looking back, all those hours alone in my room spent teaching myself was worth it just to experience the night I had with him.
He challenged me, but I challenged him right back, and I know I surprised him. Hell, I surprised myself.
It was empowering to be able to keep up with such an obviously intelligent man. Our eyes lock and something clicks into place as I feel a flutter deep in my stomach.
“What do you do for work?” I ask to change the subject.
He lies naked on his side and rubs his hand over my breast, squeezing it hard. “I’m a mechanic.”
I bite my lip to stifle my smile. He has softer hands than me. No way is he a mechanic.
So, we’re playing that game, are we?
“What do you do?” he asks.
“I work in an ice cream shop.”
He can’t hide his smile. “You are a dreadful liar. There is no way in Hell you serve ice cream.”
I laugh. “You lied first.”
He laughs as his lips drop to my nipple and he takes it in his mouth. “Touché.” He smirks.
“What do you think I do?” I ask.
He narrows his eyes as he thinks. “Your body tells me you are a gym instructor, but your mind tells me you’re a scientist.”
I smile as I bring his lips to meet mine. “I have to go.” I sit up.
He frowns and leans up onto his elbow. “What? Where are you going?”
I stand up, and his eyes drop down my body. “New York,” I answer.
He frowns, “You’re going home? Today?”
I nod as I walk around his room picking up my clothes. “Uh-huh.” I pick up my phone and check the time. “I fly out in three hours. I’ve got to get a move on.”
His face drops. “But…”
I pick up my bra and put it on. “But what?”
“I wanted to see you again,” he says as he watches me dress.
I smile and lean over the bed to kiss his gorgeous lips. “Hmm.” I smile against them. “Sorry. Bachelorette weekend is over.”
He leans up and grabs me, pulling me back on top of him. “Stay another night.”
God, I wish. He kisses me again.
“I already have my plane ticket for today,” I breathe.
“I’ll buy you another ticket for tomorrow,” he offers.
For a brief moment, I consider it.
“I’m here until tomorrow,” he tells me. “We could spend another night together.” He smiles sexily.
Could I?
Who am I kidding? We don’t even know each other’s names and he just lied straight out and told me he was a mechanic. Besides, I’m totally out of money. I wouldn’t even be able to pay for my dinner tonight. Damn it. “Sorry, hubby.” I stand and put my black lacy panties on as he watches me. “This is where our marriage ends.”
He puts both hands behind his head as he lies back down and smiles broadly.
My face mirrors his. “What?”
“I kind of like being married to you.”
I widen my eyes at him in jest.
“I know. Shocking, isn’t it?” He smirks.
I pull my dress over my shoulders and slip into it.
“Come back to bed. I’m not finished with you.”
I sit on the bed and kiss him once more. “I’m not finished with you, either, but I have to go.”
He frowns and begrudgingly gets out of bed. My eyes drop down his naked body. He is one hell of a fine specimen— tall, athletic, muscular broad chest with a scattering of dark hair. His hair is chocolate brown with a little bit of length on the top allowing it to have a just fucked messy look. His eyes are dark brown and he has a two-day growth going on. My eyes drop lower to the