Page 80 of The Bargain

“Let me get my passport.”

EPILOGUE

BYRON GRAHAM

A slow smilespread across my lips as I leaned against the open doorway leading to the balcony of our penthouse hotel room, where champagne and strawberries were waiting for us upon our arrival. Several blocks away, the Eiffel Tower glowed golden in the night sky. A hushed murmur of traffic rushed down the streets while a soft coo and flutter of feathers came from the birds who were finding their roosts on the roof of the building. This magical city was settling in for the night, but I wasn’t ready to close my eyes on this dream.

I’d traveled with Sebastian a few times in the past, but it had always been for work, and I’d never taken the time to actually explore the cities we were in. I’d stayed in the hotel and prepared the reports and documents that Sebastian would need for a conference or other meetings. Food had been room service or takeaway from cheap restaurants that were close to the hotel.

But this…it felt like a real vacation in one of the most beautiful cities in the world. There was only one thing that could make this moment better.

As if he’d read my mind, Sebastian silently walked up behind me and slid his arm around my waist, pulling me slightly back sothat I was now resting on his chest. A gentle kiss was pressed to my head, and then my ear, and then my jaw.

“Happy?” he murmured as he nuzzled my neck.

“Blissfully happy.”

“You will be even more amused to know that my mother has texted me yet again.”

“Oh?”

Sebastian had thoughtfully postponed his Paris trip for two days. With sometemporaryfinancial assistance, he’d helped me get my mother into a rehabilitation facility to help with her alcoholism and lined up an amazing doctor to look at her back. She wasn’t talking to me, but I was fine with that. My conscience was clear.

I’d gotten Ronnie moved to the new long-term care facility shortly after the Courtland lawyer handed the trust information over to me, but Sebastian and I were able to sneak in a visit before we left the States.

The only one who didn’t appear pleased with our sudden departure was Sebastian’s mother. I’d emailed her that I was going out of town with her son, but I was taking all the information she’d given me to review while I was in Paris.

“Was she reminding you to give me time to get some reading done while we’re here?”

“No, this time she warned me not to fuck this up, because she’s afraid that if I screw up our relationship, you won’t accept her job offer.”

I giggled as I rested my head on his shoulder. “I need to text her and tell her I won’t take my frustration with you out on her.”

“Frustration, huh?” One of the hands on my waist wandered upward, sliding across my chest. His nimble fingers had no problem locating my nipple through the material of my shirt and plucking at it. “Exactly what are you frustrated with?”

The low-banked fire that seemed to burn endlessly within my stomach whenever Sebastian was around roared to life with the smallest touch. A soft whimper left my throat, and I pressed into him, instantly craving more. My skin grew tight while blood rushed to my cock, causing it to strain against the front of my jeans.

“Sebastian,” I whispered.

“If you’re such a fan of this view, why don’t I just take you right here on the balcony?” The hand on my hip pulled me back as Sebastian pushed his groin into my ass, teasing me with the outline of his hard cock. My mind was happy to conjure up a picture of me standing with my pants gathered at my ankles while I held on to the railing, Sebastian’s dick buried deep in my ass as I gazed out over the city, my passionate cries of pleasure echoing off the buildings with each thrust.

“God. Sebastian,” I panted. “Dirty exhibitionist. No.”

“Are you sure?” he teased, steadily rubbing his dick along my crease.

Was it tempting? Yes, so fucking tempting. It was also reckless and insane.

We’d already paid the price for a kiss in public. One of us had to have a little sense.

“No. Absolutely not. You can fuck me in the bed.”

Sebastian snorted and the hand on my hip dropped to fondle my dick through my pants, erasing all the common sense I’d claimed to have in the blink of an eye. He could have frog-marched me outside, dropped my pants, and inserted his dick inside of me and all I would have done was beg for him to fuck me harder. I was weak for him, and there was no saving me.

“I’ve got an idea. You stay right there.”

He released me completely, and I had to catch myself on the doorjamb to keep from falling. A chill swept across my skin where he’d been a second ago, and I shivered as I looked overmy shoulder to see him walking across the room to grab a fancy wooden chair with elegantly carved arms and legs. A rose damask with delicate flowers covered the cushions. He couldn’t possibly be thinking…

As he neared the doorway, he peered out, seeming to align the chair with the view of the Eiffel Tower while still being deep within the room.

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