“That day, in the shower, when you saw me… jerking off, I was thinking about you. Every single time, since the day we met, while I was doing it, I was thinking only of you, of your body…”“Oh…” Blaze murmured.“While doing it that day, I was imagining you were in here with me. Imagining I was touching you… That I was fucking your brains out… I was craving for you, ‘mon ange’…” For a moment, they stared at each other.“I see… Well, Fab, I have to say that… this piece of information changes every single thing between us,” she replied. Blaze sounded dazed.“Yes, ‘mon ange’, it surely does,” Fabien agreed. “Come here… You’re staying too far away from me… I
Three weeks later, Blaze frowned at an article on ‘Vogue France’ as she stood at the kitchen table, trying to translate what she was reading.“What does ‘caoutchouc’ mean?” she asked. Fabien was at his workbench, adding some shading to his latest sketch.“Usually, it means ‘rubber’ but in this context, it means ‘latex, condom’.”“I hate asking explanations every five minutes. Even after all these years, I still find French such a difficult language to comprehend… I hate to admit that I suck so much at it,” she muttered under her breath.“Chérie, you’re the smartest woman I know. You’ll get the hang of it. And until then, you can ask me anything you want. I’m here for you,” he said confidently.“If you say so…” Blaze replied quite hesitant. She’d learned all the ballet technique phrases in French because she’d been passionate about her craft, and she’d picked up enough French to get by over the years without making a fool of herself. But actually, remember
As Willow began to entertain them with an update on Grant’s search for a new job, Blaze felt the weight of Fabien’s stare. She glanced over, and sure enough he was watching her, one hip propped against the kitchen counter, arms crossed over his chest. He was so gorgeous, but he looked very serious… brooding, almost. As soon as Blaze made eye contact with him, Fabien smiled and the moment of intensity was gone, leaving her wondering if she’d imagined it. “I can’t believe I’m going to voluntarily subject myself to this, but tell me what you two are up to this afternoon?” Willow asked, crossing her legs and raising an eyebrow in inquiry. Over the past weeks, Blaze and Fabien had developed a routine of sorts. Most mornings she sat for him, then he worked on his sketches and other projects until midafternoon. After that, he took her out into the city, showing her his beloved Paris. So far, they had toured ‘Père Lachaise’, the largest cemetery in
Blaze gazed out at the river. She knew what a psychologist would say she was doing: using this thing with Fabien to divert herself from the hole not dancing anymore had left in her life. Fabien distracted her with sightseeing and gastronomic indulgences, and she rounded the job off by fixating on what was happening between them, building it up into something it probably wasn’t, and probably never should be. It wasn’t fair to Fabien that she latch onto him to stop herself from going under. He deserved a hell of a lot more than that. Beside her, Fabien crumpled the empty bread wrapper into a ball.“Come on, chérie. Art awaits,” Fabien exclaimed, standing and holding out
She couldn’t help but laugh.“Not me, silly. Real people. Tourists,” she told him. Blaze bit her lip again and moaned as he upped the pace.“I guess we’d better be quick then,” Fabien replied. Useless to pretend that the danger, the illicit nature of what they were doing wasn’t a turn-on. Desire built inside her and Blaze gasped as her climax hit her. Fabien kissed her, swallowing her small cry. By the time the tourists arrived at the fountain, he’d buttoned her jeans again and she had her flushed face pressed against his neck.“Don’t think there won’t be payback…” she said, still excited, when the tourists had gone. “Sleep with one eye open,
The next morning, Blaze rolled over in bed and felt the coolness of empty sheets beside her. Already half awake, she sat up with a frown and stared at the indentation Fabien’s head had left in the pillow next to hers. Blaze felt strange chills running down her spine. She hadn’t heard Fabien getting up. Somehow, she couldn’t understand how or why, she felt ridiculously cheated. Lingering between the sheets in the morning with her head on his strong chest, his hands moving in slow circles on her back, the soothing sound of him breathing, was one of the highlights of the day. Inevitably, they wound up making l
Fabien decided to walk home rather than take the metro. Buds were starting to appear on the trees lining the Seine, and there was a definite hint of warmth in the air. Winter was drawing to a close, and soon it would be spring. The tourists would flood back into the city, and the streets would be full of bikes and pedestrians. Would Blaze be here to see it? Would she be here to take a walk with him? To have a picnic together? He wanted to pin her down so badly it hurt. Fabien wanted to declare himself and commit himself and have her do the same, to end the doubt and uncertainty forever. Ten years with her in his mind and in his heart. Ten years he’d been waiting for Blaze. Eight years without seeing her, without touching her. Now Fabien had her in his bed, in his life, and he wanted to keep her there forever. Fabien stopped on the small pedestrian bridge. Someone was playing ‘La Vie en Rose’ for
Fabien Mason Lévy… the most wonderful man on the planet. She’d thought she’d known him, top to bottom, inside out when she lived with him ten years ago. She never allowed herself to see more than a friend in him. And now, she couldn’t see herself living without him. He was the love of her life. Her heart knew that truth since the first moment she’d met Fabien, but her mind has always been filled with nothing more than dancing. For a long time, ballet was her only love. Yes, she was head over heels in love with Fabien and Blaze liked nothing better than to say it to him, but maybe it wasn’t the right time… She didn’t want Fabien t