Again I find myself leaning into him, pressing the side of my body to his as we walk.
The streetlights give the city a rose hue. Collins looks so good with his tailored suit and tie. It’s like a dream. I keep on expecting to wake up in my old apartment back in Connecticut.
“Did you and Pierre make a deal?” I ask.
“We did.” His face is relaxed and happy, like I haven’t seen him in a while. “Thank you, you were perfect,” he says, pressing a quick kiss to my temple as we walk.
At the taxi stand, Collins helps me into the car, following close behind me. The small dome light of the cab shows me the look on his face. There is so much hunger in his eyes.
“What did you say to me back at the restaurant?” I ask, my head feeling like I’m in a fog.
He takes a moment to consider my question. “My angel,” he says softly and I wonder if I’m getting the whole truth.
“And what did Adele say to us before we left?”
“Crazy in love,” he says, looking directly into my eyes.
My stomach does a little flip and desire pools at the base of my spine, sending pleasurable tingles into my lower half.
The driver better step on it. And if this really is a dream, just please don’t let me wake up yet.
Chapter Fifteen
Collins
On the cab ride back to the hotel, I can’t stop my eyes from lingering on Mia’s, or my hands from finding hers in the darkened interior. She was amazing tonight. I’m unsure what will happen once we reach the hotel and part of me doesn’t want this cab ride to end. Uncertainty swims in my gut, making me question everything. My body knows what it wants to happen, it’s my head where the uncertainty lies.
I couldn’t believe I’d whispered I love you, my angel to her at the restaurant. It was in French, so she didn’t know what I said, but the honesty to the words surprised me.
We’re almost back to our hotel, so I fish my wallet from my pocket and slide out a few bills for the driver. Digging my cell phone out next, a string of texts light up the screen. They are from Colton—from several hours ago. I read each one in quick succession.
I thought Tatianna was with you in Paris.
What’s going on man?
I hadn’t thought to tell him that I was taking Mia in place of Tatianna. But I don’t see why it matters.
Soph and I are at Platinum nightclub, and Tatianna is here—dancing with another man—some dickhead who thinks he’s god’s gift to women. WTF.
Tatianna is supposed to be in New York, not dancing with God knows who. Even more troubling than that is Colton bothered to message me in the first place. If she was dancing innocently—something good-natured and fun—he wouldn’t be texting me. It means that he’s alarmed enough by what he saw tonight to alert me. Unease churns inside me.
I stuff my phone back into my pocket as the driver pulls to a stop beside the curb. I’m frustrated and confused, but Mia and I have just shared a great night. I don’t want to take this out on her. I hand the driver a wad of money and help Mia from the car.
“Is everything okay?” she asks, sensing the shift in my mood.
“Everything’s fine.” At least I’m trying to pretend it is.
She smiles up at me, trying to get my happy mood to return. “We should be celebrating your big deal. Are you sure you don’t want to go out?” she asks.
“I’d rather just go back to the room.”
She nods. “Me too.”
God, what I want to do to her when we get back to the room. It’s like a sweet-torture imagining what she will feel like. But if I fuck Mia tonight, I will be no better than Tatianna, with her lies about being in New York. I have to remind myself that I need to handle one thing at a time. I have to end things with Tatianna, because if and when I take Mia, it will be with a clear conscience.
When we enter the hotel room, the mood is quiet and subdued.
I turn on a lamp, which casts a dim glow in the room, then loosen my tie. Mia bends down and removes her black high heels one at a time, giving me a glimpse of the cleavage that’s taunted me all night. All thoughts of Tatianna and the baggage I need to deal with back in LA are pushed from my mind. It’s just me and this stunning woman, with whom I share a deep history, alone in a hotel room halfway across the world.
“I’m going to change,” she says, grabbing her overnight bag and heading into the bathroom.
I don’t know if it’s intentional, but she leaves the bathroom door open just a crack and I’m treated to an erotic show as her fingers slide the zipper slowly down her back and she steps out of the dress. I walk three steps closer to the bathroom, then force myself stop. I want to go to her, but I know I can’t. My line of vision is obstructed, but I can see just enough. The push of her breasts over the cups of a lace bra, the string of black silk between her ass cheeks when she turns around. She undoes the clasp of her bra and lets it fall to the floor, then she steps out of the panties, drawing them down her hips slowly, like she’s performing a strip tease just for me. My cock hardens and grows in my dress pants, pushing against my zipper. Mia is so beautiful, and she doesn’t even know it. A quality that makes her all the more tempting.