Fling in Paris (8 page)

“I’ll call you.” she promised, her heart fluttering foolishly. What she really wanted to do was go back up there and pull that shirt the rest of the way off him—what was she thinking? They’d had so much sex recently that she was sore all over; she should be sick of him. Yet she only wanted more.

“Umm, hello?” Marie waved a hand in front of her face, bringing Sherry back down to Earth. “Are we going or not?”

Sherry shook her head violently to clear it. “Of course we’re going. Sorry about that.”

They went to a pub near the Siene River crowded with people speaking French and English. A table for two was available outside the pub so they took it. It was a little breezy outside, but the fresh air felt good.

"Tell me everything," Marie demanded as soon as the waiter whisked away their order.

Sherry cleared her throat and decided to cut straight to the chase. "It turns out that Rob, who I met that night at the Rex Club also happens to be Roberto Zanetto, my boss.” Marie’s jaw dropped, but she didn’t say anything so Sherry continued. “He had a party at his house on Friday where he asked me out on a date, and then before and after that date we had wild, crazy sex.”

"How was it?"

Sherry sighed. "It’s the best I’ve ever had, and I just don’t understand how or why. I become a totally different person around him. Maybe it’s because I know this can’t last."

"Wow,” Marie finally managed. “I can't believe you actually did it. I know I told you to go find a fling, but you were so dead set against it. And now you’ve got the sexiest guy on the block.” Marie laughed. “Do you feel guilty?"

"At first I felt like a lying bitch, but I’ve gotten over it. I promised Nick that we would try to work things out when I go back, but right now I’m just going to enjoy my time here with Roberto.”

"Do you have feelings for him?"

"No.” Sherry snorted at the idea. “It's just sex, Marie."

"If you say so,” Marie shrugged, and though doubt was written all over her face she let the question go. “I have some news too. I slept with Jean Paul."

"Ah.” The waiter delivered their drinks, and Sherry took a sip of her martini. “I thought something was going on between you two."

"We've been flirting for months,” Marie admitted. “The only reason I waited so long is because he seems a little young for me."

"How old is he?"

"He's twenty-three, and as such he’s a little immature sometimes.” Marie grimaced slightly. “I don't know if I want that kind of drama in my life right now, but he was a good lay."

"He's only twenty-three!” Sherry exclaimed. “He looks older, so I can understand why you’re attracted to him. But, if you don’t want the drama I would break it off now.”

She decided to steer the conversation away from their love lives, and they chattered about nothing while they enjoyed their drinks.

“By the way,” Sherry added as she set her empty glass down. “I found a flat that I'm going to rent for the next three to four months. Once I move in I'm going to throw a party."

"Really?” Marie’s eyes lit up. “That’s so exciting! Where is it?"

"It's on Rue Montmartre in the second district, close to my job. It's really nice. I'm going to talk to Sophie, my agent, tomorrow and hopefully I can move in by the weekend."

"Should we plan for a party on Saturday?" Marie asked, and Sherry could already see the wheels turning in her friend’s head. The woman loved to throw parties.

"I'll call you after I talk to Sophie tomorrow."

Marie looked at her watch and sighed. "I’d love to talk more, but it’s getting late and I have to work tomorrow. Do you want me to drop you off at your hotel?"

"Please."

Marie dropped her off, with the promise that they would get together again soon. Sherry showered and changed into a short blue jean skirt and white halter top that molded her breast. She put on her stilettos, grabbed an overnight bag, and went outside the hotel to flag down a cab.

When she arrived, she went to the door and rang the buzzer.

“Hello?” Roberto’s voice, low and husky, crackled out of the speaker.

“It’s me,” Sherry responded. “I’m accepting your invitation to come back.”

He buzzed her in, and when she arrived up at his suite the first thing she noticed was the heavenly aroma of Italian cooking wafting on the air. She followed the smell to his kitchen and saw that he had two plates heaped with spaghetti and meatballs set on the island. Her stomach rumbled happily—it was one of her favorite Italian dishes.

“You were expecting me,” she said as she settled herself onto a barstool.

“I was hopeful,” Roberto corrected as he sat down beside her. They ate their meal in silence, and when they were done he pushed the dishes aside, rucked her denim skirt up over her hips, and lifted her onto the island.

“Is this dessert?” Sherry asked breathlessly as he spread her legs and leaned his head down between them.”

“You could say that,” he agreed, and then started licking and sucking at her pussy. She writhed and moaned, her bare ass sliding against the marble counter—she hadn’t worn anything beneath the skirt, knowing that it would all be coming off.

“Roberto,” she gasped as he tongue-fucked her, then sucked her clit hard. “Oh, Jesus.” She came hard, and he lapped up her juices like a cat licking up a bowl of cream.

“Mmm, bellisima, you taste so good,” he growled, unzipping his pants. He leaned her back until her legs were high in the air; her knees hooked over his shoulders, and then slid his cock inside her. She cried out as he fucked her, first slowly, then picking up the pace until the dishes on the counter next to them rattled and her entire body was shaking and shivering in ecstasy. As soon as she came, he pulled out of her and squirted his seed onto her stomach.

“We’re like fucking rabbits,” she panted when her head had cleared, reaching for a paper towel from the nearby dispenser so she could clean herself off.

“I hope I’m at least better than a rabbit,” he muttered, and she laughed.

“Baby, believe me, you’re the best I’ve ever had.” She circled her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. “But if you feel you’ve got to prove it, you have all night to do so. I’m not going anywhere.”

He grinned and picked her up before carrying her off to the bedroom. They didn’t get very much sleep that night.

Chapter 7

The sound of the door opening awoke her, and she rolled over to look at the clock, as was her habit. When she focused her eyes and got a good look at the time, she shot up off the bed, swearing like a sailor.

“Fuck! Elven A.M.!” she rushed into the bathroom and jumped into the shower. Five minutes later she was toweling her hair dry, praying to whatever deity existed that she wasn’t going to get her ass fired.

That’s ridiculous, a voice in her head chided. You’re sleeping with the boss. Of course you’re not going to get fired.

But that just makes everything even worse! Her conscience wailed.

As if on cue, Roberto walked into the bathroom, fully dressed in a gray pinstriped suit. He smiled as he caught sight of her damp, naked body, and leaned down to kiss her on the forehead.

“Good morning, bellisima,” he greeted her cheerfully. “Did you sleep well?”

"Yeah,” she snapped, snagging a brush and furiously working out the tangles in her hair. “I slept so well that I'm late.” She swore again as the brush caught on a tangle, then ruthlessly worked it free. “I missed a training session this morning. Why the hell didn't you wake me?"

"Slow down,” Roberto laughed, prying the brush out of her hands before she did some serious damage to her scalp. “I didn't wake you because you looked like you needed the rest after last night. I canceled your sessions for today when I went into the office this morning so that you could have the day off to move."

Sherry stared at him. He was so unbearably thoughtful. "You talked to Sophie?"

"Yes.” He smiled.

"And I can move today?"

"You can move today, tomorrow or whenever you are ready. The company has the bill and I have your keys right here." He pressed them into the palm of her hand, and she closed her fingers around the cold metal, thrilled beyond words.

"I'm going to the hotel to get my things," she said after a moment, holding her voice steady even though she felt like crying. No man had ever been so kind, so thoughtful to her before.

"Do you want me to come with you?" She nodded. “We’ll go in my car then.”

Not only did Roberto go with her to the hotel, but he helped her pack her things, check out, and deliver them to her new flat. When she stepped inside the flat her jaw dropped—it had been empty when she last looked at it, but someone had taken the time to fully furnish the place. She turned to protest, but Roberto hushed her by pressing a finger against her lips.

“Don’t worry about it, Sherry,” he soothed. “It’s on the company dime, and if you are uncomfortable with that we can always take a little bit out of your paycheck until it’s paid back in full.”

He helped her unpack, and then took her to the store so that she could stock up on groceries. She tried to protest again, knowing that he should be at the office, but he simply responded that the sooner she was back on her feet the sooner she could get back to work, and he wouldn’t let her argue with him about it.

“Besides,” he pointed out. “It’s not like you have anyone else available to help you out.”

When it was all done, Roberto flopped down onto the brand-new couch. “Finally done,” he sighed, closing his eyes.

“Tired?” Sherry asked, brushing a lock of hair away from his face.

His lips twitched. "Yes. Someone kept me up late last night."

"Poor baby,” she teased. “Why don't you go lay down on the bed? I’ll tidy up the place and make us some dinner.”

“Didn’t we just spend all afternoon tidying up? Not to mention I already told you I hired a cleaning service”

Sherry shrugged. “I like to go over everything one more time.”

Roberto chuckled. “Women. If you insist.” He stood up, stretched, then headed off to the bedroom to sleep.

Several hours later, he woke to the aroma of chicken alfredo, his mouth watering. Hungry enough to eat an elephant, he made his way over to the kitchen to see Sherry setting dinner out, looking adorable in a large “Kiss the Cook” apron. Oh, he certainly wanted to kiss her. His cock hardened again at the thought, and he almost laughed. How could such a domestic scene make him horny?

"How was your nap?" Sherry asked, looking up from the counter when she noticed him.

“It was good, but now that I’ve smelled your cooking I’m starving.” She set the plates down on the table and he sat. “I had no idea you could cook Italian.”

"There are a lot of things you don't know about me," Sherry pointed out as she sat down across from him and picked up her fork so that she could start eating.

"Why don't you tell me more?"

Sherry sighed and set her fork down. "Roberto we both know this is a casual thing. Let's just enjoy our dinner, and not complicate things by getting too personal."

He knew it was casual—damn it, they were both working hard to keep it that way—but he felt that there could be more if she was willing to open up. He dropped the subject, and they ate in silence, both lost in thought about just what the hell they were doing and where their relationship was going.

Sherry studied him from her side of the table, not knowing what to say to him—she felt as though she’d put her foot in her mouth. Her plan was to have dinner and then make love, but she knew she fucked that up; she’d ruined the romantic atmosphere she’d been building.

Roberto kept his eyes on his food even though he could feel Sherry’s gaze on the top of his head. He didn't understand why he felt hurt. After all, she was just supposed to be a distraction until Simone came back to him. He should be glad that she wanted to keep things casual. Usually it was the other way around, with the woman begging him to stay while he shrugged her off. For the first time he understood what those other women had gone through when he turned his back on them, and wondered how they could stand it.

“Thanks for the meal,” he told her, then got up and put his dishes in the sink. “I’ll see you tomorrow at work.”

He kissed the top of her head and walked out. Sherry waited until the door clicked shut before she let the tears fall.

****

The next morning, Sherry threw herself into work. She came into the office prepared with her training materials, gathered the employees together, and covered an astonishing amount of material with them in the two-hour training session. What was more, it looked like they actually understood what she was trying to teach them. They ended at noon for lunch, and she strode back to her office, pride swelling in her heart—for the first time since arriving in Paris she felt like she’d actually accomplished something.

Back in her office, she slumped in her chair, kicked off her heels and propped her feet on the desk. Smiling, she stared out the window and took a moment to daydream. It was a beautiful, cloudless day, and she could hear birds singing while sunlight streamed through the glass pane and warmed her face.