He’s like finding a Unicorn. My morning coffee. Sweet Iced Tea on a hot day.

In other words, Jaxson Malone is everything.

We’re back in the villa now, preparing bacon and veggie omelets. Even Truffles has joined in on our kitchen party, albeit only to pick up anything that slips onto the floor. Particularly bacon.

I like it here. Peaceful. Serene. I cringe at the thought of going back to Chateau De Grenelle and bumping into Simon the Snake. Mainly because I don’t know what I’ll do.

Slap him. Probably.

Arabella is beside herself with a mix of bittersweetness. I reached her via FaceTime while I was at the office today and while she was pissed off that Simon is a leach, I swear the woman is a hot-mess-happy things are happening between me and Jaxson.

So am I.

“Hey, why so quiet?” Jaxson asks, ripping me from my thoughts. He’s the one doing the actual cooking, I’m just acting as the sous chef, cutting up veggies.

I bring my eyes up from the cutting board and on to him. “Oh, I’m just thinking, that’s all.”

He picks up a piece of crispy bacon and feeds it to me. “Thinking about what?”

“You know, stuff,” I say, playfully nudging him.

He grins. “Good…stuff?”

“Absolutely.”

We sit down to eat our omelets, Truffles off in the corner, munching away on kibble.

Jaxson pins a set of curious eyes on me and says, “I got a call from my agent earlier today. I had been avoiding him since I got to Paris.”

I tilt my head. “Really? Why?”

“Honestly, I didn’t want him to bug me about doing another reality TV show, or some ridiculous spin-off. So each time he called, I sent it to voicemail. Never did listen to them.”

“And what did he have to say, assuming you spoke with him today?”

He shifts in his seat, chewing a bite of food. “Well, he said he’d been trying to reach me about posing for an ad in a digital magazine. For a new line of men’s underwear.”

My eyebrows raise; wouldn’t it be a strange coincidence if the new line of underwear his agent is calling about is—

“For Antonio Michaels.”

My jaw drops. “No. Way.” I smile.

His mouth goes flat. “Yes. And the digital magazine is Haute Couture.”

I put my fork down and shift in my seat, tucking one leg under me. “Jaxson, why do I get the impression this isn’t something you want?”

He rolls his shoulders, looking to the ceiling, before his eyes land back on me. “Truthfully, my interest was highly piqued. I mean, Antonio sought me out to be the face of his new line. Me.”

I nod, reaching over to his hair, running my fingers through it. “But?”

“But, the caption he wants to use is Um Yes, Just Yes, a take on—”

“What that witch Dixie Lane said in front of millions.”

He lowers his head. “Yep.”

I rise from my seat, move behind Jaxson’s chair and massage his shoulders, trying to ease his building tension. “What are you going to do? What do you want to do?”

He scoffs. “I don’t even know. I mean, true this is a great opportunity for me. Get back into modeling, be the face of something big. Plus, it’s an exclusive gig for your magazine and I—”

“Hey.” I lean into the back of his shoulders and softly say in his ear, “Don’t you make this decision feeling like you have to do this for me. This is about you. What you want.”

Jaxson spins around in his seat. His once-inquisitive eyes are now glazed with certainty. “Now, more than ever, I know what I want.” He rises to his feet, takes my face in his hands. “Baby, I want you.”

His kiss sends chills plus all the thrills causing me to melt into him as he lifts me up. With my legs wrapped around his waist, I remove my blouse, then my bra, flinging them both to the floor as he carries me to his bedroom.

“Oh God, Lauren, where have you been all my life?” he growls, kicking the door open.

We land on the bed, him on top, between my legs, grinding into me. “I can ask you the same question,” I say, my voice low and shaky as he moves his mouth from my lips, down my neck, and onto my breast.

He bites my nipple, just enough to cause me to arch into him, then he licks it, soothing it. Like fire and ice. As his lips and mouth continue their exploration, now down my belly, I rake my fingers through his hair, watching as he gets closer to my waistline.

He unfastens my jeans, lowering the zipper as I raise my hips, allowing him to slowly drag my jeans off. I lie naked, save my hot-pink lacy thong, as his dark eyes move over me, perusing, cruising, studying every angle, every curve.

And when he climbs back on the bed and nestles between my thighs, he whispers, “I could make love to you forever,” before he kisses me long and tender.

I feel the length of his hardness teasing me. Except for his shoes and socks, he’s still fully dressed. “Take your clothes off,” I demand in a hushed tone.

Jaxson chuckles and nips the shell of my ear. “Not yet,” he hums.

I shiver, tugging at his shirt, but he moves down south, licking, leaving trails of sensual, hot, wet kisses on my breasts, belly, and now at my waist, his teeth tugging at my lacy thong. I begin to pant, in, out, my mind mush as he eases me out of my panties.

My head spins. This is really happening. No one has—

“I wanna taste you, make you c—”

“Jaxson, I—no one has ever—”

“Shhhh,” he murmurs. “Just lay back, baby.”

My legs tremble and I swear I see stars when his finger barely traces my sensitive nub. His frictional sequence of kisses, licks, sucks, and finger thrusts send me to oh-my-fucking-gosh-ville. A place of never-ending orgasms and vibrant fireworks.