Page 43 of Sunrise Malice

“Come with me.”

He frowns, but follows me to the hot tub. I fire it up and get the jets running. He stares at me, his expression hard to read in the soft lights coming from the tub. Chicago twinkles around us, an entirely new universe of stars and lives and homes, and even the lake seems to shimmer. The moon comes and goes from behind clouds.

I take off my sweatshirt. I shimmy out of my jeans. I’m aware of him staring, and I look over my shoulder, my arms covering my breasts as I let my bra fall forward.

“Are you getting in or not?” I ask him.

He undresses wordlessly. I leave my panties on and get into the hot tub, sinking down enough that the moving water obscures his view of my breasts. He strips to his black boxer briefs, and I lick my lips at the sight of his bulge pressing against the fabric.

He’s hard, just from watching me take off my clothes.

Julien climbs into the hot tub and sits beside me. Our wine glasses are perched on the rim.

“Talk to me about something,” I say, pleading. I put my legs over his and sit very close.

I’m aware that this is a very bad idea.

“I can tell you a story,” he says, his gaze hard, almost too intense. “From when I was a boy.”

“I’d like that.” I sit even closer. I’m emotional right now and desperate for a distraction, and I’m acting out. Pulling Julien into the hot tub, stripping in front of him, touching him like this—I know it’s extremely dumb and wrong. It’ll only lead me somewhere I don’t want to go.

And yet.

He tells me about the first time he stole bread. At eight years old, he was already partially homeless, drifting from a drug addict aunt’s apartment in a very rough Marseille neighborhood to staying with street friends under bridges and tent encampments. “The bakery was open early like most bakeries in France, but this one had a little stand out front. The man that owned the place, he’d make himself a coffee at the same time every day, and when he did that, he wouldn’t be watching very closely. I waited until he was grinding the beans before I snuck inside, and kept quiet until he was pushing the plunger on his press before I grabbed a loaf and ran. I heard him cursing after me, but I kept going and going, and had the best breakfast of my entire life after that.”

There’s a smile on his face, almost like he misses those days.

“You sound nostalgic,” I say.

His hand strokes my thigh. It feels really nice. “Life was simpler back then. Now, that bread would be like nothing to me. But when I was eight years old and learning how to survive on myown, it was like nothing I’d ever tasted before, because I had risked my life to get it.”

“It sounds like you need to take up stealing bread again.”

He smiles and pulls me closer to him. My breath comes in fast as our hips touch and he tilts my chin up toward him. “I know what you’re doing,” he says, almost at a whisper. I have to lean in closer to hear.

“What’s that?” I ask, aware of my body, almost naked beside his.

“It won’t fix anything. No matter how fast or how far you run.”

“Who says I’m running?” I lean toward him, lifting myself from the water. Cold air plays against my naked skin and my nipples are hard. I straddle him, kneeling on the tub bench, my breasts exposed.

His eyes move down to look at me. I can tell he likes it. I sit back and feel his hard cock grinding against my thin, soaked panties.

Excitement tears through me.

The rational part of my brain is saying I should stop, this is stupid, I’m just emotional right now and I might regret this later.

But the rest of me wants to kiss my sexy French husband, especially now that his hands are on my hips and he’s looking at my tits like he’s barely controlling himself.

One of his hands moves back into my hair. He grips hard, and when I lean forward, he doesn’t let me go. I gasp at the slight pain.

“Tell me you won’t wake up tomorrow and wish this hadn’t happened,” he says, leaning forward to kiss my neck.

Oh, fuck, that feels good.

“I know what I’m doing.”

He kisses lower, tongue whirling around one stiff nipple. “Before, you made it clear that there would be no touching.”

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