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Uh, do basic white girls drink pumpkin spice lattes? Yes I want to go inside!
“Est-ce que je peux t’embrasser?” “I don’t know what that means,” I say in a breathy whisper. “What are you hopin’ it means?” Our mouths are a sigh apart, the air between us tickling my lips. His powerful chest brushes my breasts and this time, he doesn’t move away. “Say it again.”
“Est-ce que je peux t’embrasser?”
“Tu sens merveilleuse.” His raspy French murmur sends a tingle shooting straight down my spine, down to my toes. Whatever the words are he’s whispering, they send a ripple of desire through my core, getting me—oh God—so hot.
“Je suis content que tu sois ici, Laurel.” His lips brush the skin beneath my ear. “I’m really glad you’re here.” He’s so gentle. So tender. My eyes slide closed and I bite my lip, bite back a moan. “Putain, tu es jolie,” he murmurs into my ear. “You’re so fuckin’ pretty.” “Merci.” It’s
