What am I saying? People don’t belong to people.
This guy is scrambling my brain.
I looked him over again. I could have stopped at his wide shoulders, but I had to know if his face was as . . . Oh yeah. Square jaw. Dark stubble growing in. Eyes so brown they were almost black.
When our eyes met, a crazy warmth spread through me. I started playing Never Have I Ever with myself. Never have I ever thought a man’s mouth looked so kissable. Never have I ever wanted to lose my inhibitions and do something spontaneous I was sure to regret.
How much do women touch each other during threesomes? Could I ask for none at all? I frowned as I imagined that scenario. No, I wouldn’t want to share him.
I shook my head in wonder.
This is lust.
Or too much champagne.
I ducked deeper beneath the water.
Probably the champagne. I need to get out of here.
CHAPTER FOUR
MAURICIO
Another man might have thought he’d hit a sexual lottery by walking in on what I had, but one of these women, the topless brunette if I remembered Felix’s description correctly, was off my list of possible hookups, simply because it was never good to mix friends and fucks. You can fuck your friends; you just can’t fuck your friends’ fucks. It was a rule that had served me well over the years.
Now the blonde—I’d gotten only a glimpse of her, but one glimpse had been enough to convince my cock she was not on the do-not-touch list. I wasn’t looking for a threesome, but if she was interested, I wouldn’t mind giving double the effort to her pleasure.
If she doesn’t drown herself.
Even while giving me a bold once-over, she’d dipped lower and lower beneath the water until all that was visible above the side of the hot tub was the top of her head and her eyes—wide, big, and difficult to look away from.
“You must be Mauricio,” the brunette said, and I reluctantly turned my attention back to her. She calmly stepped out of the hot tub and retrieved her top. As casual as if she were donning a jacket over an outfit, she put it back on. Nudity was nothing new to me. In fact, the naturalness of it was what I’d always liked about Europe. The female body, in all its beautiful shapes and sizes, was a work of art. Why should it be hidden away? “I’m Cecile. I recognize you from old photos of you and Felix together. You’ve aged well.”
“Thank you. Felix’s taste in women has improved, I see.” She was a beautiful woman in her late twenties—tight body, comfortable with her own sexuality. In other circumstances I might have found that attractive, but my attention kept returning to the mostly submerged woman in the hot tub.
“You’re quite the charmer,” Cecile said, but not flirtatiously, and I was grateful for that. My goal was to convince her to leave.
I dipped my head in recognition of the compliment. “Felix asked me to drop by with a message. I’ll give you ladies time to dry off, and then we can talk in the living room.”
My gaze met the blonde’s again, and I couldn’t help the grin that spread across my face. Her shyness didn’t appear to be an act. I couldn’t imagine her engaging in a wild romp with Felix and Cecile.
I could imagine joining her in the hot tub, though, and kissing every inch of her that I convinced to rise above the water. How bold would she become when I asked her to tell me what she liked?
My cock was at full mast and aching from the images I was torturing myself with. I turned on my heel and strode back into the penthouse. Down, boy.
I walked behind the bar area and poured myself a glass of water. The shelves were well stocked, with only the best of every liquor, but I needed to keep my wits about me. Cecile was no pushover. Getting her to leave without much explanation wasn’t going to be easy.
She donned a terry-cloth wrap and came to sit at the bar. I poured her a glass of water and placed it in front of her. Her eyebrows rose and fell, but she sipped at the drink. “So what did Felix ask you to tell me?”
I cleared my throat. “He was called away on business—”
Her laughter interrupted my excuse, and she raised a hand for me to stop. “Felix? He’ll be lucky if his father trusts him with filing. Don’t waste my time with lies.”
Okay. “That’s all I have.” The lie. I’d already promised I wouldn’t tell her the truth. “It was just as much of a surprise to me. I flew over for a business meeting with him. He did ask me, though, to make sure you got home okay.”
Her head cocked to the side, and she tapped her fingers on the surface of the bar. “He knows I have my own plane. This rings weird to me. What are you not telling me?”
“I’ve said all I can.” That much was true.
Dressed in jeans and a blouse, but deliciously barefoot, the blonde joined us, and I forgot what we were talking about. Broken what? Who cares.
Her hair was damp on the ends but hung loose past her shoulders. She wasn’t thin, but the way she filled out those jeans was sinful. I’ve always liked an ass I could grab, and she was rounded in all the right places. Although they were chastely covered, her tits were my favorite size . . . big enough to bury my face between. She took a seat next to Cecile and looked me right in the eye.
All too vividly I imagined looking down into those blue eyes of hers while she was wrapped around my waist and we fucked until neither of us could move. I might want to stay in Paris after all.
Cecile broke into my fantasy with, “Wren, this is Felix’s friend, Mauricio.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” I held out my hand for a shake. I could have gone in for the French double-kiss greeting, but enough of my blood had already headed south. I needed to calm down. I couldn’t remember the last time a woman had gotten me that excited without even trying. I let go of her hand and gave her my signature smile—the one more than one woman had claimed had closed the deal with them.
“Nice to meet you too,” she said and blushed as if not used to sustained attention from a man. Her American accent was familiar—East Coast, New England. Funny how small the world was.
Not looking pleased with the idea, Cecile said, “Mauricio was just explaining to me that Felix left town.” To me she added, “Attractive as you are, I hope Felix didn’t send you over in his place.”
Wren’s mouth rounded in surprise. I poured a glass of water for her as well. I’d never needed the advantage of alcohol, and I could already tell she was attracted to me. After that, it was simply a matter of time, and there was no way I was flying back to the States before having her. We had next-level sexual attraction—no man with a working dick walked away from that.
“For dinner, you mean?” I asked in a purr, only because I wanted to see Wren’s reaction to the possibility.
Her eyes widened, and in a breathy voice she said, “I—I—I already explained that I prefer to eat alone.” Her hand flew to her mouth, and in a rush she added, “Not alone. I eat with people, just not at crowded tables.” She groaned and took a long sip of her water.
I looked back and forth between the two women and wondered at their relationship. They seemed comfortable with each other, but not in the way Felix had implied. “Good. I’m not here for the food, at least not anything from my friend’s kitchen.”