him.
When my mouth met the warmth of his and tasted the champagne on his lips, the only thought in my head was More. I parted my lips and deepened the kiss, vaguely aware that Jason had slid one hand under his jacket and up the middle of my bare back, anchoring me close while his other hand cupped the back of my head as he returned my kiss with equal fervor.
The feel of his mouth against mine was everything. He sipped my lower lip, ran his tongue across my upper lip, and pressed my mouth gently open with his. The rough rub of his closely shaved scruff made my skin tingle. The kiss was hot, smooth, wet, and delicious, and it made my head spin faster than the champagne had. I felt as if I was free-falling into a desire so thick and rich that my entire body was vibrating with want.
I clung to him, trying to get closer. My hands dug into his hair, and I melted against him as he kissed me senseless. His mouth robbed me of reason, and his hands stroked the good sense right out of me. I was at his mercy and couldn’t have been happier to be so.
Oohs and aahs broke through my passionate haze, which seemed very appropriate given the impact of his kiss. I pulled away and blinked, expecting to see the world changed. I wasn’t disappointed. Bright lights were sparkling all around us as light beams flitted across the metal structure of the Eiffel Tower from top to bottom. The building had been beautiful before, but now it felt as if there were a touch of magic in it. I glanced at Jason, who was gazing wide eyed at the spectacle. Magic, indeed.
He tucked my back against his front and wrapped his arms around me as we stood and watched the five-minute light show. Some people were filming, but most were just taking it in, recognizing that they would most likely never be standing on the top of the Eiffel Tower again during such an extraordinary moment. Pure, undiluted joy beamed through me.
This was the beauty of Paris. When something didn’t go as expected, there was always something else to see, do, taste, or feel. I was at the top of the freaking Eiffel Tower! Did it get any better than this? I glanced behind me to see Jason watching the light show. As if he felt my gaze, he turned to look down at me. The same sense of wonder lit his eyes.
“Like I said, you keep surprising me,” he said. Then he kissed me quick, tightened his arms around me, and rested his chin on my shoulder as we watched the end of the show.
He kept my hand in his for the entire elevator ride down. When I went to return his jacket, he shook his head. He looped his arm around my waist and pulled me close. We walked to the cabstand on the street in front of the tower. The line was mercifully short, as the tower was now closed, and we were soon in a taxi.
Jason helped me into the back seat and then leaned forward and gave the driver directions. I noticed the address was not the one for our apartments above Café Zoe. When he leaned back, I sent him an inquiring look.
“We need to make one small stop on the way home,” he said. “Are you game?”
A ridiculously flirty girl who had heretofore been unknown was inside me, jumping up and down and clapping. I refused to let her out and instead gave the careless shrug that seemed to be a part of the vocabulary of the French, and said, “Mais oui.”
“Excellent.” He sat back against the seat, and as if it was the most natural thing in the world, he pulled me close and I let him. As if by unspoken agreement, we didn’t talk about the kiss on top of the Eiffel Tower. I supposed it was sort of like a New Year’s Eve kiss. The giddiness of the moment had taken over, and we’d kissed. No big deal. Really. Just because it was the most singular kiss of my life, really, no need to dwell.
The city lights moved past the car window in a blur, and I rested my head against his shoulder. I felt as if we were in our own private nest, where it was warm and quiet and safe. A few weeks ago, if someone had