Unbearable Passion - Book 2: French Kiss (Romantic Erotica For Women Series) (2 page)

“It looks fine by me, Bryce,” I say, grabbing the new iPhone he hands me.

“This is one of our corporate phones that will allow you access to certain information to make your job easier,” he says. “Todd told you I doubled your fees for the week, right? I figured since you’ll be doing double duty and you’ll be in intense translation discussions for six to eight hours a day, it’s only fair. After all, you’ll most likely be the one helping me out with the flow of the conversation when we go for dinner with these clients, and I want to make it worth your while.”

“That’s very generous, Bryce. Thank you.”

He smiles as he traces my face and asks, “If it’s very generous, why do you look so worried?”

“I didn’t have time to call my sister and tell her I’m gone for the week and I don’t want her to worry,” I lie through my teeth. 

I can’t possibly tell him that for a minute I realized that I’m a paid escort accompanying an extremely rich client on a business trip to an incredible city and I have little say in the situation because I desperately need the money.

“Amanda, the phone I just handed you is one of the latest ones from Apple and our team always adds all sorts of bells and whistles. I’m certain you can text or call your sister,” he mocks, as he gets closer and plants a soft kiss on my forehead.

The gentleness with which he kisses me reminds me of his words from last night—“I do have a soft spot for you”—and that softens my mood quickly.

Bryce spends an hour and a half briefing me on all the clients we’ll meet while we’re in Paris. I’m a bit intimidated by the size of these corporations and the ages of their CEOs. It’s true that young wizards run most tech companies, but it never ceases to amaze me how brilliant they are, especially considering my recent business debacle.

“A lot of these are very young guys who are geniuses at cracking Internet codes and programming, but inexperienced in business. In order to gain their trust we need to be able to speak their tech language and sell them on the merits of working with Linden Corp.”

I listen intently and take copious notes to make sure I live up to his expectations. The detailed briefing only confirms what I already know—Bryce is sharp. It’s no wonder he runs a business that generates several billion dollars every year. He makes it a point to know his client down to their favorite bottle of wine. I have more to gain from this coming week than coming back to New York with money to pay off my creditors. This could turn out to be the best business lesson of my life.

“I think you have everything you need. If you follow my cue during the meetings, we should be all right. Don’t forget, they may be young tycoons, but they’re men and you’re a charming woman. You don’t have to say much to have a guy wrapped around your little finger.”

His words make me blush. He can be so soft and tender sometimes and other times he’s rough and edgy. That’s an attractive side to Bryce’s personality.

“Did I make you blush?” he asks, amused by my red cheeks.

“I don’t think I’ve ever considered I had this superhuman power of being able to wrap any guy around my finger.”

“You do have that power. You just don’t know it, Amanda.”

We end our meeting as lunch arrives. I’m used to traveling economy and I’ve never experienced the luxury of real plates and real cutlery while flying. The chef and a few sous-chefs personally serve the meal and it smells absolutely divine. The small crew waits with anticipation to see our reaction after the first bite.

“You never disappoint, Raoul. The meal is excellent. Thank you for the attention. It’s important for me to make sure my guest is treated to the best.”

The words are still hanging on his lips as the crew bows in gratitude before hurrying back to the kitchen area.

“Do you like it?” Bryce asks as he points to my meal with his chin.

“It’s amazing. I never knew you could eat so well on a plane.”

“I always hire this luxury charter because they either hire a French chef or a chef who has worked for Air France. As patriotic as I am, I’m a big fan of French cuisine.”

I relish every bite. The meal ends with more champagne and
crème brulée
—one of my favorite French desserts. Bryce gets up from across from me and comes to sit next to me. He loosens his tie as he sighs. I wonder if that’s the same tie he used to cover my eyes with last night before punishing me for having paid too much attention to Spencer Harrison.

I wouldn’t mind being tied up again, to be honest.

The champagne and altitude are hitting me hard and I feel quite light-headed. I rest next to Bryce in a state of bliss. He must have seen the expression on my face.

“I bet I can make you feel even better than you do now.”

“You can, can you?” I slowly turn my head to look at him.

“You know I can, Amanda. I keep proving myself over and over. Do you need a reminder?” he asks boldly. He gets up and reaches out to help me up.

“Where are we going?” I nearly fall back into my seat as I try to stand up. “Oops, I might have had a bit too much to drink.”

“Clearly you have. We’re going to the bathroom.”

“Together?”

He doesn’t respond. He takes me straight into the bathroom and closes the door behind us.

“Shhh. You have to be quiet.” He has a playful look in his eyes that lets me know he’s as amused as I am by us trying to hide in the bathroom of his private jet.

“Okay. I’ll be quiet,” I giggle.

“Are you wearing panties?”

The fact that he whispers those words into my ear while gripping my hair and pulling it back makes me instantly wet.

“No. You didn’t tell me which set to wear today and because I didn’t want to be in breach of contract, I went commando,” I whisper back.

Since I knew at the minimum we’d be flying first-class, I selected a skirt for the trip, a huge departure from my usual casual jeans. My breasts are far too big to dangle without a bra so I selected a delicate white lace one to match my top.

“You’re a quick learner.”

“I’d hate to disappoint you.”

“Bend over so I can remind you of what will happen if you don’t carefully follow the clauses of the contract.”

Bryce yanks up my skirt and smiles.

“You have a great ass,” he says as he admires my exposed butt. “Amanda, do you like it rough?”

His eyes are piercing mine in the mirror and my heart beats harder and faster.

“Yes.” My voice trembles because I can tell from the fire burning in his eyes that he is as hungry as I am.

“I’m going to remind you of the kind of punishment you’ll receive if I catch you flirting with any of the French tech wonder boys while we’re in Paris. If it gets too hot, use the phrase
kiss me softly
and I’ll play nice. Do you understand?”

I nod, unable to speak. He pauses to make sure I trust him enough. The first three smacks are light and my legs are already quivering. The fourth smack rattles me and he waits to catch my gaze before continuing. As Bryce spanks me harder and harder, my lips moisten with my own juices and I’m swollen down there. After a few more hard smacks, I can’t take it anymore.

“Kiss me softly,” I whisper.

He holds my gaze in the mirror for what seems like an eternity before he lowers his lips and gently kisses the back of my neck. I’m breathing heavily as cold sweat trails down my back. My legs continue to tremble uncontrollably, but I’m so aroused right now that nothing else matters. He’s still holding my gaze as he unzips my skirt and slides it down my legs before removing my blouse and unhooking my lace bra. I’m completely nude on a private jet twenty-one thousand feet in the air and Bryce is still fully dressed. He removes his jacket and shirt in one suave motion, unzips his pants and releases a fully erect cock.

God, he’s sizzling hot.

“Why don’t I do that?”

I grab the condom from his hand, rip open the packet and cover the condom with my tongue.

“You’re going to put it on with your mouth?” His fever-bright eyes widen and I can see that I’ve caught him off guard.

I nod as I hold his gaze while sliding my body down his until I reach his erect penis.

“Ahhhh, Amanda, that’s very naughty.”

“Hmmmm,” I moan.

“Where did you learn to do that?”

I caress his ass with one hand and gently stroke the wet tip of his hard cock with the other. He’s totally turned on and I know it. He wraps my hair in his fist and pulls my hair back as if to confirm what I already know. I look up and our eyes meet. The desire in his eyes is indescribable and it’s such a powerful aphrodisiac. I open my mouth and swallow him whole. When I push back my head, he looks down at his wrapped penis in awe.

“I cannot believe you put that on with your mouth. You didn’t even use your hands.”

“I didn’t have to,” I reply proudly.

“You haven’t told me where you learned how to do that.”

“If I tell you all my little secrets, there won’t be any point in taking me around the world with you on future business trips. A girl should maintain some mystery.”

We both laugh.

“Turn around.”

I obey and Bryce yanks me on top of the counter.

“Spread them wide.”

I fold my legs and place my heels on top of the counter, completely exposing myself. I think he’s going to force himself inside me, but instead he drops to his knees and pokes a finger inside my wetness while licking my hard clit. He alternates between light strokes with his tongue and using his full lips. The sensation is so incredible and so strong. He picks up speed as he presses my bud more firmly with his lips.

“Ahhh, Bryce. Don’t stop,” I pant, as I nearly climax.

He stops abruptly, gets back on his feet and pushes his erection inside me. I hold on tight to his neck as he leans on top of me to enter me deeper. He ravishes me with force and lets out a muffled grunt with each swing of his hips.

“Ahhh, ahhh, ahhh,” I pant louder.

“Baby, keep it down. They’re going to hear us,” he whispers in my ear. He places his strong hand over my mouth to muffle my screams of passion.

His hips swing at the right pace with the right intensity and it doesn’t take long for me to climax. To prevent a loud scream, I bite his hand and that triggers him to come as he pulls my hair to reach for my lips and kisses me hard.

This is so insanely intense. I’m sure the captain and the entire crew felt the plane shake from our naughty interlude.

Chapter 2

The flight lands in Paris at twelve-thirty am local time and I’m exhausted. I cannot wait for us to get to our hotel so I can crawl into bed.

“Let’s hope immigration isn’t too painful. You must be so tired,” Bryce says as he guides me by the hand.

Paris Charles de Gaulle Airport is always a crazy adventure because there are so many tourists who come in and out of Paris on any given day. Making it through customs usually takes an hour, but apparently private charters have their own assigned customs agents and it’s a matter of answering a few questions and we’re on our way with no wait time.

Money makes things much easier.

“Bryce. Wait. We didn’t grab our bags.” I pull at his arm as he’s headed decisively to the exit.

“We don’t have to do that, Amanda. The bags are most likely already inside the trunk of the limo.” He smiles when he sees my reaction.

I love Paris at night. I lie—I love Paris any time of the day and I’ve waited too long to come back. The night is still warm and I soak in the Parisian air before entering the limo.

“
Bonsoir,
Madame. Monsieur,” greets the French chauffeur.  “I believe Monsieur is staying at the Mandarin Oriental, as usual.”

“Yes, Pierre. That’s correct.”

“Is Madame comfortable? I can adjust the temperature if she desires.” Pierre speaks English with a thick French accent that reminds me how much I’ve missed this city.

“Pierre, la temperature me convient très bien.”

“Ah, Madame parle un français impeccable. Vous êtes américaine ou française?”

“Oui, je suis américaine, mais j’ai vécu pendant cinq ans à Paris lorsque j’étais adolescente. Mon père travaillait pour une société américaine dont le siège social était à Paris.”

Bryce looks at me in amazement, as if he only now believes that I can really speak French.

“Monsieur Van Der Linden, Madame speaks a perfect French and it seems she learned this while living here in Paris with her family when she was younger.”

“Pierre, yes, it seems Madame does speak an impeccable French.”

He’s addressing Pierre, but his eyes are locked into mine and he simply smiles without saying much more. Pierre breaks the heavy silence between us.

“Monsieur had an excellent trip, I hope?”

“Yes, Pierre. It was perfect.”

“Madame, I hope to visit America one day. I want to go to New York City like every French person. You live far from New York City?”

“I’m a native New Yorker, Pierre, so you’ll have to give me a buzz when you’re ready to come.”

“Buzz? What is a buzz, Madame?” Pierre asks that question with the same inquisitive mind of most French people, who went to school to learn a textbook English.

“I mean, let me know when you come to New York City and I’ll be your guide.”

He smiles with excitement before focusing on the road ahead. The rest of the ride to the hotel is silent. Bryce seems preoccupied by something on his phone and I’m too afraid to disturb him with idle talk.

Hmmm, let me figure what this Mandarin Oriental looks like.

I pull out the new company phone and search for ‘Mandarin Oriental.’
I land on a site that divulges a lot about my luxurious residence for the next week. The Mandarin Oriental is located on
Rue Saint-Honoré
, which is one of the best areas of Paris, and the most exclusive shops surround it. I know Paris like the back of my hand because I combed the streets with Ciara a million times when we were teenagers, and when we came back as adults, we always rented an apartment and spent most of our days combing the streets and discovering new spots. I nearly choke as I scroll down the page and see the staggering price tag of one thousand, four hundred and three dollars per night.