SATURDAYS JUST GOT SEXY.
No Erotic Romance would be complete without a Hot and Sexy, Drop Dead Gorgeous Hero. Meet my latest irresistible Alpha Male, Sebastian Baines. He’s Young, Hot & Loaded. It’s a lethal combination and he’s taking it Stateside. His contract at Berger & Schwartz is for a year and he plans on making the most of each and every one of those 365 days in the Big Apple with some mergers and acquisitions of his own.
Sebastian never fails to win the deal or the girl. And it’s not just London girls who fall for his charms. Wherever he goes, the girls are queuing up.
* * *
A Charming Player he may be,
but Sebastian’s not a bastard
and he guarantees you a good time…
But a spin on the Sebastian merry-go-round
is a one time deal,
with the occasional exception…
* * *
Ah, Simone. Paris is a beautiful city, but she made that two-week holiday something truly special. Her enthusiasm knew no bounds …
Sitting outside the little café I’d carefully chosen on my first day, I sipped my coffee as I took in the sights. There’s nothing like people watching − or women watching to be more precise. And there’s nothing like women watching in Paris.
Of course I spotted her the moment she approached the café and took a seat at a table two over from mine. I’d have to have been blind not to … Christ, her legs went on forever.
And I wanted them wrapped around my neck.
I replaced my coffee cup in the saucer and let my gaze find hers.
She lowered her head breaking the connection, embarrassed at having been caught looking. Or so I thought …
Then she looked up again, gazing right back at me through her lashes, curling her mouth into an oh-so-inviting small smile.
So I eased myself up out of my chair and strolled over. Who the fuck wouldn’t?
An hour later we burst through the door of her apartment. Our mouths barely breaking contact as she made short work of striping out of her chic little Jackie-O style dress and heels as my clothing joined hers on the hallway floor.
Grabbing fistfuls of my hair, she linked her stocking-clad legs around my hips as I lifted her off her feet.
She ripped her mouth from mine long enough to pant out, “Boudoir” before clamping her lips to mine again.
Her apartment was small so finding her bedroom wasn’t difficult and I tossed her down on the mattress.
She made a little ‘oomph’ sound as she landed.
Bugger me if the greedy look on her face as she lay there, legs already spread, didn’t get me even harder, if that was possible.
Her elongated ‘mmm’ as her gaze dropped from my face to my dick when I stripped off my Calvin Klein trunks sent a pulse of anticipatory pleasure bumping down my spine.
Not to mention the downright wicked glint in her eyes as she flung her arms above her head and opened her legs a little wider.
I didn’t need my A-Level French to translate her moaned request.
I’d fuck her alright, but there was no rush and I wanted to take my time. Wanted to explore every inch of her. Wanted to work her into a whimpering mess before finally giving her what she wanted.
And when I did … Christ, there was just something about how she breathed my name as I pushed deep inside her. How she drew out every last syllable: See-bas-tee-arrn.
And so began possibly the best two weeks of my life.
Even though she left me in bed each morning to go to work, we more than made up for it most lunchtimes when she’d pop home for a not-so-quickie, and every night. Starting about a nanosecond after she slammed the front door closed on her return.
Fuck me; they must have heard her screams of “Oh putain, oui!” all the way down in Nice.
It was the dichotomy of her effortless Parisian elegance and the crudeness of her demands for me to suck “plus fort” as she rammed my face into her connasse that took my breath away.
Over the fourteen days of my stay we defiled every surface in her pristine apartment; including the tiny balcony.
But all good things as they say …
It was fun while it lasted and I remember her fondly, but Simone was the exception that proves the rule.