KEEP POSSESSION
Gillian
I’D FINALLY MADE it, and I’m not going to lie, I was giddy about it.
Since I was a little girl, I had dreamed about coming to this city. Strolling along the curve of the Seine, walking through the Arc de Triomphe, and yes, albeit cliché, eating croissants near the Champs-Élysées.
From our hotel room, the sleek metal bars of the Eiffel Tower crisscrossed in the distance in such a way that I imagined I could slide my wrists through the openings.
“What are you doing?” Lucas asked, his voice husky, deep, intoxicating.
I glanced over my shoulder, and when I did, the white silk fabric of my nightgown ruffled as the cool air cascaded beneath it and wrapped around my naked body.
I didn’t care.
The sleepy sight before me was magnificent—tall, dark, and handsome. Sexy as hell with his mussed up hair and low hanging sweat pants, he was shirtless. And I swore I could see every inch of the muscled lines and the contours of his body.
I bit my lip and turned back around. “Come over here, and I’ll show you.”
Lucas stood beside me and I caught his gaze just as he looked over at me with those penetrating eyes.
“Watch,” I said, and I held my thumb and forefinger up with one hand, and this time pretended to pinch the Eiffel Tower.
He tossed me that easy grin that I could look at for a thousand lifetimes, and then he lifted his hand to mimic mine.
I smiled back at him. With his recently acquired Super Bowl ring on one hand and his wedding ring on the other, he too pretended to pinch the Eiffel Tower.
“See,” I said, placing my free hand beneath the one extended, “it’s like it fits in the palm of your hand.”
With a chuckle, he shook his head. He always found me so curious. I loved that about him. Then again, I loved everything about my new husband.
The Eiffel Tower might have been looming impressively before us, but that didn’t stop me from leaning over to kiss Lucas.
I couldn’t help myself.
And I guess neither could he because he abandoned our play and pulled me close to him. His cock was in a state of semi-arousal. Long and thick between his legs, it was rising from his pants very quickly.
I panted, wet and needy, into his mouth.
Manhandling me, he gripped my thighs, wrapping my legs around his hips so he could grind his erection into me.
Clinging to him, I tried to remember why I had gotten out of bed at all. But it was difficult enough to breathe, let alone think, as he thrust his hips between my legs.
There had been a chill in the air, but with his warm hard body pressed up tight against mine, I no longer felt it. Lost to him, I tossed my head back as his lips dropped to my throat.
He peppered kisses down my throat. “I don’t like waking up and not seeing you beside me.”
My hands slid up his back so my fingers could curl in his hair. “I’ll try to remember that, but honestly, I think I like it when you miss me.”
His mouth made its way down to the silk garment that covered my breasts and I relaxed into his touch with a groan. “Vixen,” he breathed.
I laughed, but then suddenly stopped as arousal took control of my body. Last night we’d made love for hours, and yet my chest still fluttered at the thought of having him inside me right now.
I was crazy hot for this man, and he was mine.
Mine.
I still couldn’t believe it.
The thin spaghetti strap over my shoulder fell to the side, allowing him to easily suck on one of my nipples. I tossed my head back as his touch sent electricity pulsing through my body, and I drew my nails down his back in anticipation.
All the while this was taking place, his erection was pulsing hot between our bellies. His chest heaved and each exhale was ragged and erotic. I loved it. I loved him.
Soon, he started moving, and then we were inside and I was on the bed looking up at him as he stood before me. “Stay right where you are,” I told him.
I never could get enough of his body, so while I had the opportunity, I began tracing every line of his six-pack, and then I used my tongue to trace a similar pattern.
Every muscle in his body coiled tightly, and he quivered under my touch. I glanced up at him and when I did, I found his gaze locked on me. Lust and desire blazed in it, and I knew what I had to do.
I lowered my mouth to the waistband of his sweats and teased him a little. A long hiss escaped his lips when I started to pull it down, but just then the alarm on my phone started to chirp, and I remembered why I’d gotten up early.
“Should I turn that off,” he said with a groan.
“Yes, and we have to hurry. We have to meet our families for breakfast,” I managed to say. My voice cracking as arousal overtook me.
Lucas jerked away from the bed. “Shit, your father is going to be waiting for us.” He took my hand. “Come on, hurry up, we can’t be late.”
I yanked him back toward me, and circled my lips with my tongue. “We can be a little late. I was just getting started.”
He shook his head.
“Lucas,” I said, but he was already halfway to the shower.
I couldn’t help but laugh.
Some things were never going to change, and one of them would be that my father, his father-in-law, would always be Coach to my husband.
Lucas and I had gotten married yesterday, right here in Paris.
It had been only four weeks since the Bears’ Super Bowl win, and our engagement, but Lucas insisted we tie the knot before the next season started up.
Elopement seemed to be the only option, but then he suggested Paris, and of course I swooned.
My father and his wife of two years, Mallory Harlow, flew to France with us. Turned out my father was sneaking around with the cheerleading coach while I was sneaking around with my now new husband. He told Lucas and I about his relationship with Mallory shortly after Lucas and I got back together.
Lucas used his own version of the coined phrase, “Like daughter, like father,” that he loved to use. He taunted me with it as soon we found out, but refrained from saying a word to my father.
In truth, he was still a little afraid of the man.
That was never going to change, no matter how many meals we shared or holidays we spent together.
Nick, his wife, and six kids, also came to witness the event. Believe it or not, Lucas even invited his father. He seemed to have come to terms with who his father was, and to accept him.
And then, of course, Thor and Dallas wouldn’t have missed it for the world, and they all flew in too.
The wedding took place on the Le Bretagne—a luxury yacht that offered a stunning view of the Eiffel Tower while we said our vows.
It was everything I could have ever imagined and more.
It was perfect.
And what else was there to say . . . other than we were going to live happily-ever-after.
The End