We drive for hours. In Clermont-Ferrand, he pulls up at a hotel. It’s the big, commercial kind close to the highway that caters for travelers.
“I can’t drive anymore,” he says, hunching over the wheel.
My chest tightens with compassion. I almost reach out to rub his shoulder, but harden my heart. “We could’ve stayed in Paris.”
“After what happened? Not a chance. I want you safe, not in the middle of fucking danger.”
“Will Leclerc tell Alexis what you know?”
“He’s blackmailing Alexis. If my brother knows I know, Leclerc has nothing to blackmail him with. Leclerc also knows he’ll be a dead man walking if Alexis finds out I know. The only thing preventing Alexis from killing Leclerc is the evidence that will be made public if anything happens to Leclerc.” He rubs his neck. “So, no, he won’t tell Alexis.”
“What’s your plan?”
He opens the door. “Let me worry about that.” Coming around, he gets mine. “Let’s get a room.”
We book in and take the elevator to the fifth floor. The room is tiny, barely a shoebox with a bed and shower, but it’s clean. I sit down on the bed, staring at the wall while Maxime peels out of his clothes. I sacrificed a whole day of work and closed the boutique for this. I should’ve known better. It was the last time I made a bad decision. It’ll never happen again.
“What are you thinking?” he asks.
I look at him. He’s naked. His body is hard and brutal, just like his mind. “Nothing.”
“Don’t give me that,” he says through thin lips. “I want to know.”
I lean back on my arms. “Why?”
He walks over. Nudging my knees apart with his body, he steps between them. “I could’ve lost you.”
“Whose fault is that?”
“Mine.” His face contorts. “I carry all the blame.”
“You do.”
With his hands on my knees, he spreads my legs wider. “Don’t keep from me. Not now.”
My thoughts are not his for the taking. My heart either, not any longer. “It’s all right here.” I lift my dress to expose my underwear. My pose is slutty. “Take it.”
A muscle ticks under his eye. “Why are you doing this?”
“Isn’t this what you want?” I support my weight on my elbows. “You can go down on me first. It makes me last longer when I come around your cock.”
He clenches his hands at his sides. “This isn’t you, Zoe.”
“You think you know me?” I laugh. “I think you’re wrong.”
Kneeling between my legs, he grabs my hips and yanks me to the edge of the bed. I pull on the thong, but I’m not strong enough to rip it like him.
“Tear it off,” I say.
He holds my eyes as he grips the elastic. It gives with a snap at the twist of his wrist. Threading my fingers through his hair, I guide his lips to the center of my legs. The kiss he plants reverently on my clit isn’t what I want.
“Eat me out like you mean it,” I say.
He drags a tongue over my folds before plunging inside.
I lock my ankles around his neck. “Stop playing. Do it.”
He does. He nips, sucks, and licks until my toes curl. He does every dirty thing I tell him to do while I lean back and watch. My orgasm comes quickly. I don’t savor it. I let it crash through my body and wreck me, devouring it much like downing instead of sipping a good glass of wine.
When I’m done, I put my palm on his forehead and push him away. “I’m done. I don’t feel like sex any longer. You can go shower now.”
The growl that escapes his chest should frighten me. “You used me? That’s how you want to play it?”
I sit up. “It’s good to be useful. You’ll get over it.”
Before I can blink, he grabs me around the waist and flips me around. “Is this what you want?” he asks, throwing my skirt over my hips to expose my naked ass. “Do you want me to fuck you like an animal?”
I look at him from over my shoulder. “I’m sated, but thanks for the offer. Do you need a hand job?”
He digs his fingers into my globes, spreading me open. “Why are you doing this?”
Because it’s sex, nothing more. From now on, I’m not mixing it up with emotions. Emotions cloud everything. “Fuck me if you need to get off, but get a move on. I’m hungry, and I need a shower.”
Bracing myself, I wait. I don’t mind coming again, but I’d rather just have lunch and a nap.
He lets me go with a little shove, making me fall flat on my stomach. “Not like this.”
I scoot off the bed. “Suit yourself.”
He watches me with narrowed eyes as I make my way to the bathroom. I expect him to come after me, but when I step out fifteen minutes later, showered and my hair washed, he’s dressed.