The Soulmates Collection Read online

  With two glasses of wine and a large salad filling my belly, I leave the bistro and all the lovebirds behind and go back to my room. Surprisingly, I’m back quicker than expected. When I walk through the door, Stefan is there…naturally, and with a new girl. A blonde who looks to be much older than him is sitting on the couch and I begin to think about all the action that couch has seen. I’m also very glad I’ve never sat down on it. I’m too tired… or deflated to converse with anyone. I let out a sigh of relief when the door closes behind me.

  Four flights up, I hear music coming from our room as I approach. I take a deep breath, trying to push down my hurt as I open the door. Olivier jumps to his feet. “Kandace, where have you been?” Worry punctuates each word.

  “Where have I been?” I ask rhetorically, shutting the door behind me. “I sat at the Sacre-Coeur for two hours by myself. Did you think about checking there?”

  “Je suis désolé,” he says, tentatively stepping closer. “I’m sorry.”

  I set my purse on top of my suitcase and turn my back to him, not really wanting to hear his apologies. “It doesn’t matter now. What’s done is done.”

  Warm hands cover my shoulders and his body presses to my back. Whispering this time, he repeats, “Je suis désolé, soleil Américain.” Pushing my hair to the side, he places a soft kiss on my neck.

  I turn back around. “You left me. You left me sitting there by myself for hours, Olivier.”

  “I tried to explain to my manager, but we were short waiters. I went as soon as I left work, but you were nowhere to be found. I searched the nearby streets, then caught a taxi back here hoping to find you.”

  “You found me too late.”

  “Non!” he speaks with authority, taking my cheeks between his hands. “Don’t speak of such things. Je te adore.”

  I drop my gaze away, absorbing his words and the need he seems to feel for me. “I adore you, but you hurt me, so I shouldn’t.”

  Covering his heart with his hand, he says, “Let me make it up to you.”

  Back to being a sucker for an accent and blue eyes, I’m weak so I give him another chance. “Okay.”

  He kisses me. The kiss is full of the need his words expressed only a minute earlier. But then he stops. “We should go. It’s started.”

  “What’s started?”

  “You’ll see. Are you ready to see something that the guides can’t tell you about?”

  “Are you sure? That’s so… crazy veering off the beaten path.”

  “Step out of your box and live a little. Don’t just exist. Live.”

  Excitement surges, and I say, “More than ready.”

  * * *

  The moped is parked and I slip off the back. “I didn’t even know you had a scooter.”

  “I don’t use it much because I have a lot of tickets.”

  “I didn’t know they cared here by all the crazy driving.”

  “Mine are more parking tickets. They won’t ticket me next time. They’ll just put a boot on my tire, so I keep it parked in a friend’s garage nearby. Tonight is different. It’s a beautiful night and I’m with an even more beautiful woman.”

  Taking my helmet off, I stand on the curb with him still on the scooter and kiss him. Wanting to forget about the past and live in the present. “So where are we?”

  “Avenue d’Richolet. It’s an artist’s squat. France has a long history of squats, but this one is my friends. He shares it with twenty other artists and tonight they’re having an exhibit.”

  I might be swooning. “You brought me to see art?”

  Taking his helmet off, he smiles and it’s slightly crooked, but completely adorable. “Oui.” We start walking and he says, “Some of the people from the club will be here.”

  I’m not sure how I feel about seeing some of them again. I just hope things will be different since I’m with Olivier as more than a friend.

  The area doesn’t look safe and I stand nervously by his side as he knocks on a rusted door. The knock has a rhythm that he repeats twice. It’s catchy and unique. The door opens and a man pokes his head out. When he sees Olivier, he laughs. “Entrez. Entrez.” He opens the door wide for us.

  Olivier says, “Comment ça va?”

  “Bien, mon ami Américain.”

  Taking that as my cue, I walk in and through an opening in some large, dark blue velvet curtains. My mouth drops open. The space is huge, the size of a warehouse. The walls are bright white with graffiti all over. Paintings, photographs, and sculptures are throughout and people fill the space. When I look up, I see rusted beams and air ducts of the warehouse is exposed. It’s a juxtaposition of modern art versus old reality, and I love it.

  Olivier passes me, and turns to walk backwards. Summoning me with a sexy grin and hands that call me to him, I quickly catch up, taking him by the arm. We cut through a group of very serious looking people. Maybe they’re the critics for the exhibition tonight. Maybe they’re just guests. My attention is drawn away when I see a huge photograph of a penis on the wall. I gasp just as Olivier turns me around. “Bonjour ma toute belle.” His lips crash into mine and my lips part just for him.

  My arm weaves around his neck as the other holds his body to mine. His fingers tickle through my hair, keeping me in place, wanting me just as much as I want him. When we part, my breath is jagged, my lips tingling, and my body and mind worked up and turned on. He leans his forehead against mine and says, “You will be the death of me if I’m not careful.”

  “I’m only here one more day, so I think you’ll survive,” I tease.

  “That’s what’s going to kill me.” He’s not teasing.

  Standing back to look into his eyes, I see how serious he is. “But you barely know me.”

  “I know you enough. You’re different and I’m already wishing you could stay longer. Is there a chance?”

  I shake my head, a sadness coming over me. “I have to get back. This is only a week long break from classes. It was just the only time I could take the trip before graduation.”

  “Take a semester off. Stay here with me.” He pushes my hair to the side and holds my cheek, his thumb rubbing gently back and forth. “I’ll show you the real Paris. I’ll make love to you every day. I’ll make you fall in love and never leave. Joie d'vivre”

  I smile gently. Holding his hands in mine, I say, “It sounds so tempting to throw caution to the wind.” Looking down, I sigh. “But I can’t. This is my last year. I have too many commitments, too many expectations, too much of everything. I can’t disappoint everyone.”

  “I’m disappointed that I only get to know so little of you.”

  “You’re getting the best of me.” I laugh. “Trust me. I’m not that interesting in my real life.”

  He tilts his head to look me in the eyes again. “This is not real life? The real you?”

  “You bring out the person I want to be.”

  He glances over my shoulder like he recognizes someone. When his eyes land back on mine, he says, “Soon enough, I’d bring out the worst in you as well. Relationships are doomed.” He walks with me in tow, his strong hand wrapped around mine possessively.

  “Do you really believe that?”

  Looking over his shoulder at me, he replies, “Are you leaving in two days?”

  “Yes.”

  “There’s your answer.”

  Right then Savi grabs hold of Olivier and they shake hands. He smirks at me, then releases Olivier to come kiss me on the cheek. “Heureux de te revoir.”

  When I shake my head slightly, he repeats for me, “Good to see you again, Kandace.”

  “Nice to see you again.”

  Olivier squeezes my elbow and says, “I’ll be right back.” To Savi he adds, “Prends soin d'elle.”

  When Olivier leaves, Savi turns to me with his smirk, “I’ll take care of her. No problem.”

  Rolling my eyes, I say, “I’m fine all on my own if you need to be somewhere.”

  He leans in close, so I tilt back
a bit when he says in what I think he perceives as his seductive voice, “Come with me. I’ll show you my art.”

  “You’re one of the artists?”

  “I am. Come.” He leads me to the bar. “Drink?”

  “Sparkling wine, please.”

  Taking two glasses from a table, he hands me one and sips from the other. I take a sip as he says, “Turn around.”

  I turn and see the giant dick pic again… I mean photograph. I quickly look away, feeling my cheeks redden.

  Savi’s breath hits the side of my exposed neck. “Look, Kandace. Don’t be shy. It’s the male form. You’ve seen the male form before I assume.”

  Gathering myself together, I gulp down my drink, straighten my shoulders back, and face the penis. Just to prove to him I can. “I’ll need another drink, s’il vous plait.” I hand him my glass, keeping my eyes forward.

  Returning to my side, he hands me a drink. “Do you want to see me for yourself?”

  My glare hits him hard. “I think I just did. Merci for the drink.” I walk away. Weaving through the tables, sculptures, and people, I lift up on my tiptoes until I see Olivier in the far corner. From appearances, he looks like he’s arguing with someone. I keep going, getting closer, but stop when I see it’s the redhead from the hostel lobby, the one who slapped him. She’s crying and gripping his forearms.

  He looks over his shoulder, looking around the room until he sees me. Worry consumes his expression and he pulls his arms away from her.

  I debate what I should do—go over there or leave them alone. I decide to give them their privacy and wait near an interpretive sculpture of mother and child made from scrap metal and hubcaps. After two glasses within twenty minutes, I realize the night can only get better from here.

  Suddenly, the entire warehouse goes pitch black and I freeze to the spot. I’m bumped as screams of excitement are heard all around me. My heart begins to race and then a blue spotlight swerves above our heads. A red joins in, followed by a flashing green light. As my eyes adjust, more lights brighten the ceiling, including tiny white lights that look like stars in the sky. I’m staring up when I feel Olivier caress me from behind. I know it’s him just by the way his fingers tighten around my waist—need wrapped in gentleness. He touches me like he can’t not touch me. His fingertips spark my body to life underneath them.

  “Merci.”

  “For what?” I ask, still enjoying the show above our heads and the feel of him.

  “For the sex later tonight.”

  “Ha!” I turn around, laughing. Grabbing him by the jacket lapels, I tilt my head and say, “You sure are confident.”

  “I know what I want, Sunshine, and I want you.”

  Pulling him as close as I can, I kiss him because we only have twenty-four hours left to make the memories to last me a lifetime. And because I want him too.

  The music kicks in and when we look around, the sculptures are gone. People are dancing and drinking and the art exhibit has become a rave. “This is amazing,” I shout, hoping he can hear me above the bass.

  “You’re amazing.”

  “So what was that about? The girl?”

  He looks around, running his hands through his hair. “She’s my ex-girlfriend and wants to get back together.”

  “What did you tell her?”

  “I told her the same thing I told you. The woman I’m with tonight is amazing.” His charm is more than endearing. It’s a flat out turn-on. Then he says, “I’ll show you amazing.” He takes me by the waist and we walk toward an emergency exit lit with a green sign above. Out of breath in anticipation, I laugh as he twirls me around, my back landing against the smooth wall. In an instant, his hand moves my hair and his mouth is on my neck. I drop my head back, the room suddenly hot, and I inhale, needing air. “Je te veux.”

  “I don’t know what that means,” I say, breathing harshly.

  His kisses turn into more, but then he stops, and looks me in the eyes. “I want you.”

  “Right now?”

  “Oui.”

  Frantic that everyone can see us, I look around. My eyes don’t see anyone else’s on us, everyone too caught up in their own enjoyment to pay attention to ours.

  Hot whispers. “Not sex, Kandace. Just… Let me make you come.” His accent always thickens when he talks about sex and I find that temptingly sexy. “Let me show you.” His hand slides under my shirt at the waist. When I look down, he says, “Don’t look. Just feel.”

  He leans the top of his head against the wall next to mine, pushing in even closer. The dark corner feels more private than it should. People dance just ten feet away, but seem to be in their own world. The bar is across the room and crowded. Others are still looking at the art in the main room. I close my eyes, the music penetrating my chest as his hand moves down the front of my pants. The snap pops and the zipper goes with it. Then he’s slipping into my panties until he finds the spot that’s already ready for him. Olivier groans, then says, “I want you right here.” He takes one of my hands and lowers it until it’s against his hard cock. He strains against his jeans, making me want to free him in more ways than one.

  But how he’s touching me now distracts me and my breath stutters. “God, Olivier. I want you. So much.”

  Strong fingers move faster between my legs as my hand moves quicker, tightening around him. “I want you. I want you. I want you.” My words come out in a chant, an ode to the man who liquefies my thoughts as my body unravels.

  A gush of air cools my body as he rolls to the side of me, his back pressed against the wall like mine. I look over at him questioning, “What about you?”

  Moving back in front of me, he zips my pants back up then snaps them closed again. After a long and heated kiss of the French kind, he leads me to the door where we find our helmets in a corner. “Let’s go. I want to fuck you.”

  Chapter 8

  We made it past the top of the stairs this time, but barely. In a frenzy of mouth fucking and gropes, Olivier’s back slammed against one of the other doors in the hallway that leads to our room. With my legs wrapped around him, my back slams against the next. Luckily no one answers.

  Our door is opened, but I’m not even sure it was closed before I landed on the mattress with my shirt half off and my jeans half down. Jumping up, I practically tear my clothes off as fast as he does.

  “Top bed,” he demands.

  I scurry up the wooden ladder with him hot on my tail. He lies down and I settle on top of him as he rolls on a condom. As soon as he’s ready, I slide slowly down. Once I’m settled, his head drops back, his eyes close and he swears, “Baise.”

  Placing my hands flat against the ceiling, I move, slowly picking up my pace. Deep. Filling. Spurring me on to want him deeper, I drop my weight and move rhythmically on top of him.

  With him, my head clears and a singular goal replaces my daily concerns. Instinctually, I press down, the chase beginning. With my eyes closed, I say, “You feel so good. Make me come, baby.”

  My hips are grabbed and all movement stops. Slowly opening my eyes, I look down at him. His eyes are open and focused. “You called me baby.”

  After swallowing hard, the words come rushing out, “I’m sorry.”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “Don’t be sorry.” His grip loosens. “I liked it.”

  “You did?” I lean down and kiss him.

  “I did. I like this.” His voice goes quieter when he says, “I like you.”

  “I like you too.” I sit up again. “Baby.” His hips jerk and I begin moving again. He makes me feel so much that I’m not used to, new sides of myself that I like. Going after what I want sexually is a first with him and he makes me feel confident. “I want you on top.”

  Leaning down we kiss again. With our bodies joined, we roll over until he’s on top. He runs his hands from my hips to my knees, he pushes them up, opening me for him. He begins moving as soon as we’re reunited again.

  I can’t stop mys
elf from watching him. His strong jaw is defined when his head is back. His Adam’s apple hits heavy with each swallow. Olivier’s chest could rival Michelangelo’s statue of David—hard and defined, but smooth to the touch. When he looks down, his blue eyes pierce my greens and in this moment, I actually consider his earlier offer. I close my eyes to get perspective, but he can’t be ignored as my orgasm courses through me and I call out, “Olivier!”

  He drops his arms to the bed on either side of me and pushes hard, thrusting with strength. After I raise my hands to the bed railing above me, he continues as I hold myself solid in place. Two grunts and a “Merde” later, he collapses on top of me, both of us breathless and panting. Kissing my collarbone, he murmurs against my skin, “Séjour. Stay.” He looks me in the eyes, his gaze weighted with more than I have a feeling he’ll admit. It speaks to my heart in wordless observations and contentment. “I want you to stay with me here in Paris.”

  Despite being tired, I smile. How can I not when looking at him and feeling his deepest emotions? “Where would we live? Here at the hostel?”

  “We’ll find an apartment.”

  “I have no money saved. I spent it all coming here.”

  “We’ll live off love.”

  “You make it sound so easy.”

  “Let’s not over think or complicate what’s good between us.”

  He moves away and pulls the covers over me, then covers himself. “C’mere.” His arm is outstretched and I happily fill the opening.

  “So love is all we need?” I ask.

  “Love. Sex. Food. Drinks. Air. I think that covers the basic necessities,” he says, chuckling.

  “Pretty much.” I close my eyes, exhaustion settling into my body. “I’m so sleepy.”

  I feel his lips press to my forehead. He kisses me twice and whispers, “Happy Birthday, Sunshine.”

  My smile takes over. “It’s my birthday. I almost forgot.”

  “I was inside of you when you turned twenty-two. That means forever, right?”