Read When in Paris... (Language of Love) Online

Authors: Beverley Kendall

Tags: #New Adult Romance, #young adult mature, #romance, #romance contemporary, #New adult, #contemporary romance

When in Paris... (Language of Love) (39 page)

BOOK: When in Paris... (Language of Love)
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“Here, let me take that.”

I release the tight grip I have on my overnight bag as he takes it in hand.

Once we’re in his truck, he turns to me and asks, “Okay, what happened with your mom?”

He’d called minutes after I’d returned home. Still in a state of shock from the last tidbit of information my mom shared with me, my goal had been to get the hell out of my house. He hadn’t had to do any convincing to get me to stay with him at his brother’s apartment tonight.

“Can we wait ’til we get to your brother’s place?”

“No problem.” His right hand reaches across the console and takes mine. I swallow the boulder-sized lump in my throat and blink back the tears that seem to flow more readily than ever these days.

~*~*~

Apparently I needed to raise my expectations when it came to his brother’s place. Classifying it as luxury doesn’t do it justice.

“Wow. This is nice.” The open floor plan showcases gleaming hardwood floors, beautiful hand woven rugs and marble countertops—and those are only some of the highlights. My eyes home in on the two-story brick fireplace. One word comes to mind. Spectacular.

“You can thank his interior designer,” Zach says wryly, flicking on the lights, illuminating the family room and half the kitchen.

After taking off his jacket and helping me out of mine, Zach takes my hand and leads me toward a huge olive sofa in front of the fireplace. I settle in beside him, my feet tucked under me and my head tucked into the crook of his neck. Inhaling a deep breath, I breathe in his male scent. God, I love the way he smells.

“Okay, so tell me what’s going on?” I can feel the vibration of his voice on the ear I have pressed to his chest.

“You mean apart from the fact that my parents are getting a divorce?” I tip my head back so I can look into his eyes.

“Yeah, besides that.” He lands a distracting kiss on my lips and my mind goes fuzzy. When his head comes up, it takes several seconds for my mind to clear.

“The funny thing is, that’s not even the worse part,” I whisper.

His expression becomes guarded.

“My mom cheated on my dad.” Saying it out loud somehow makes it feel more real. The end of my family as I know it. Razor-sharp pain pierces my heart. “She says it happened five years ago and that it was with the one guy.”

Argh!
Why does it sound like I’m making excuses for her?

With my hand curled against his chest, I can feel when it ceases its rhythmic rise and fall. And his expression is more alarm than the surprise I expected.

“What’s wrong?”

“Did she say who the guy was?”

“Why, you think he’s someone you know?” I ask with a wry laugh.

My attempt to inject a little levity into the situation fails miserably when Zach doesn’t crack a smile. In fact, he looks deathly serious.

Pushing off his chest, I sit straight up and peer intently into his eyes. “Charles Dawson, do you know him?”

The length of Zach’s lack of verbal response is long enough for me to conclude I’m not going to like his answer. He nods cautiously.

My heart jumps.

“He’s my uncle—or was my uncle.”

Good God no.
Please don’t tell me he just said my mother had an affair with his uncle.

“You mean he’s your—”

“My aunt’s ex—my mom’s younger sister,” he explains. “They divorced about four years ago.”

In that moment, things that had never made sense before become startlingly clear.

“You knew, didn’t you?” I ask in a voice of dawning comprehension, already seeing the truth in his eyes.

I don’t need his nod that signals his affirmation but I get it anyway.

“And that’s why you never liked me.”

His gaze shifts uncomfortably from mine and when it returns to me, he looks uncertain. “My mom and my aunt are pretty tight and with your mom being
persona non grata
, so were you by extension. Plus I didn’t meet you until a couple weeks after I found out.”

“Right, when you’d already formed an opinion,” I say with an abrupt nod. “My mother was a tramp and a home wrecker, therefore her daughter couldn’t be much better.”

By now, he’s sitting closer to the edge of the couch, his hands dangling between his spread thighs. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

***

ZACH

As well as I think I know Olivia, I’m bracing myself for the freak-out. What I don’t understand is why her folks are getting a divorce now; so many years after the fact if what her mom said is true about this being her only affair?


What?” she asks, giving me a quizzical look.

I shake my head. “Nothing.”

Reaching out, she takes my hand in both of hers and moves it to her lap. In that moment all I can think of is my hands exploring every inch of her.


I’m not mad at you if that’s what you’re afraid of. I understand. A loyal son and nephew would not be fraternizing with the enemy.” A sad smile plays at the corners of her mouth and I want nothing more than to kiss her sadness away.

Before I can follow through on that thought, she says, “But that’s not the absolute worst part of it.” She stares down at our entwined hands, hers soft and slender, mine nearly double the size and width of hers.

What can be worse than this whole scenario as it played out?


She got pregnant.”

A hush falls over the room and everything inside me slows: my breathing, my heart and my body goes absolutely still. I blink. “And the baby?” I can barely get the question out.

Still gazing down at our hands, she shakes her head slowly, her blonde hair in stark contrast with her red, long-sleeved shirt. “It wasn’t my dad’s.”

My mind is spinning as a half dozen questions race through my head. Do my mom and aunt know about
this
?


What happened to the baby?” Olivia never mentioned a sibling other than her older brother so I’m pretty sure I already know the answer.


She had an abortion,” she replies, her voice just a whisper. “The baby couldn’t have been my dad’s because he had a vasectomy when I was ten so she only ever told your uncle. She had the abortion while she was up in Vermont visiting my aunt.”

My shoulders slump. I’m not sure why I feel we—Olivia and I—just dodged a bullet but I do. A baby would definitely have complicated the situation but the solution, as far as I’m concerned, was not cool.


And she told you all this?”

Olivia nods just once. “I think she wanted to tell me before my dad does. The thing is, I don’t think my dad ever will.”

Her dad sounds like a saint; the complete opposite of mine.


So how’d you leave things with her?” I can’t imagine what she’s feeling. In one case, I’ve always been close to my mom so I can’t imagine us not talking. On the other hand, if she did something like this, as much as my dad drives me up a fuckin’ wall, I’d be pretty pissed if she had an affair and got knocked up. Even the thought of it makes my stomach turn.

Finally, she lifts her gaze to mine, tears brimming in her eyes.
“I hate her,” she chokes out before a tear rolls down her cheek. Another quickly follows.


Christ, Liv.” I take her in my arms, tugging her onto my lap and she burrows into me, her face pressed against my chest. While she cries, I mumble words of comfort into her hair and rub slow circles on her back.

And comforting her
is
my first priority but I can’t help the way my body reacts to her butt smashed against my crotch. As if sensing the war my body is having with my best intentions, she turns her face up to me. Her tears have slowed and she has that look in her eyes as her wet-lashed gaze drops to my mouth. She exhales and I feel the warmth of her breath against my mouth. My body immediately responds.


Kiss me,” she implores softly.

I don’t need to be asked twice, my mouth is on hers in an instant. Using one hand to angle her head to achieve maximum accessibility to all of her sweet, hot mouth, the other tightens on her hip before sliding around to knead her ass.

When her mouth opens wide to accept my tongue, the scope of my world narrows to my body’s demands, the beautiful girl in my arms.

Without breaking the kiss, I carry her to the guestroom and lower her onto the king-sized bed. I want to take it slow, savor the exquisite pleasure of her beautiful body. But what I want is definitely at odds with what I’m physically capable of.

It takes me less than a minute to get us both out of our clothes. Olivia’s attempts at assistance only succeed in slowing the process. It’s hard to think much less remove my clothes with her hands anywhere near my zipper.

When I have her naked, flat on her back, I’m sporting a hard-on that won’t quit. But instead of immediately pouncing on her like some horny teen, I take a moment to drink her in.


Beautiful,” I say, rimming her beaded nipple with my finger.


Zach.” Her eyes drift closed as she tries to bite back a moan and fails. Her hands reach up to clasp the back of my neck, encouraging me down on top of her. I don’t resist her efforts.

Pleasure rips through me when my erection makes scorching-hot contact with the tender skin of her lower stomach. My mouth is on hers again, demanding and rougher than I intend but she doesn’t seem to mind, opening herself to me in every way.

Everything I planned to do to her—suck on her nipples, kiss her breasts and the dimples above her ass, falls by the wayside the moment she wraps her legs around my hips. I’m barely able to surface from my fog of lust long enough to grab and don a condom, before I’m surging into her. Pounding into her. And then coming with her amidst the guttural sounds of shared passion and bone-deep satisfaction.

***

OLIVIA

Wow
.
Wow.

After the day I had and the mind-blowing orgasm that felt as if I’d been split in two, I should be on my sated way to dreamland. Surprisingly, I’m wide awake with an overwhelming need to snuggle with Zach. So overwhelming, it’s kind of scary.

“Hmm,” Zach breathes, his lips feathering my ear as he rolls onto his side and arranges me so my damp back is flush with his hard chest. “Give me a sec and we’ll do that again but slower.”

He may be joking, but I’m totally game. The simple mention of it renews the throbbing ache in my center. His hand fondles my breast, his finger plucking at my nipple only serves to intensify my growing need. I wiggle my hips in protest and encouragement.

Zach buries a throaty laugh in my neck, his recently shaved cheeks smooth against my skin. He moves the hand playing with my breast to my waist. “So impatient,” he huskily admonishes. “Give me another minute or two and I’ll take care of you.”

I try to stay in the moment but the reality I don’t want to face succeeds in interceding. Suddenly I’m swamped by all the obstacles we face.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Zach asks when I lapse into silence.

“What’s going to happen to us?”

After a pause, Zach turns me around so we’re lying face-to-face. His jaw is set in one of determination.

“This doesn’t change anything between us.” His voice is adamant and his gaze intense.

“But your mom and your—”

“I already told my mom about you—about us.”

I blink and my eyes go wide. “Wh-what?” Stunned, I place a trembling hand on his cheek.

He gives me a lopsided grin. “I won’t lie to you and tell you she was thrilled about it but she’s willing to try. For me. I told her I’m not giving you up.”

My heart feels as if it’s swelled to double its size as I stare into his piercing blue eyes. “I don’t know what to say.”

After dropping a hard kiss on my lips, he murmurs, “Everything’s gonna work out. We’re going to make it.”

In the hour that follows, Zach tells me about what’s going on with his dad and how his dad erupted when he refused to meet with the head coach from the University of Michigan. When he tells me he’s seriously thinking of quitting the team, which also means giving up his scholarship, I urge him not to make any rash decisions. I get the feeling he’d only be quitting to spite his father and it’d be a decision he’d end up regretting.

Zach’s wondering hands put a halt to conversation about our problems with our respective parents.

“I love your breasts,” he mutters darkly, cupping both in his hands, his fingers toying with the nipple. “You want me to let everyone know that they’re real and spectacular?”

“Watch re-runs of
Seinfeld
much?” I pant, the fire inside me burning higher, my hips restlessly seeking his as he’s levered above me.

Lowering his head, he sucks the tip of my breast into his mouth, causing fireworks to explode low in my stomach. “Do you?” he asks, around my nipple.

BOOK: When in Paris... (Language of Love)
5.16Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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