I’m overcome by the acute desire to get the last piece of fabric off her. The last barrier between my tongue and her sex. I kiss a quick path down, then settle between her legs. I gauge the fabric of her underwear. It’s black and sheer and I don’t have the patience to take them off her delicately. I hook my fingers underneath the waistband and yank them down. They stop halfway down her legs. I pull again to get them off completely, and hear the noise of tearing fabric and I see the panties have come apart at the seam.

I look up at her. What must she think of this madwoman sitting between her legs. Perhaps she’ll never rent an Airbnb again. But a smile plays on her lips. Her eyes have narrowed. It seems to me that my little display of brute power turned her on. All I wanted to convey was exactly how much I want her. Enough to rip apart a fine piece of French lingerie.

I glance down at the glistening wetness in front of me. I can’t wait any longer. I need to taste her, have her all over my face, ravage her. I bow down to her and let my tongue touch down softly.

Chapter Six

I wake to a finger caressing my skin. Then lips press against my shoulder. Before I even open my eyes, I break into a smile. Camille. My gorgeous Frenchwoman. Can it be more dramatically romantic? Being swept away by a tall, dirty-blonde stranger with a French accent. Because that’s what she did. She swept me right off my feet.

“Bonjour,” she says, her finger now stroking my cheek.

“Hey.” I open my eyes. I want to lie here like this for a little while longer. Just look at her. How the morning sunlight catches in her hair, makes her eyes shine. Bask in last night’s glory for as long as I can. I’m going to have to call Caitlin later today—if I can ever wrestle myself away from Camille long enough to do so—and tell her she was right. This was exactly the kind of distraction I needed.

“Did you sleep well?” Camille’s accent is more pronounced upon waking. It makes her sound all the more endearing.

“Hm-mm,” I hum. I suppress the urge to kiss her, even though it’s strong and seems to be overtaking me quickly as I awaken more. I have no idea what the one-night stand protocol is. Do I leave and wash her scent off me at home? Do we have breakfast together? It’s Saturday. I’ll just go with the flow.

“What are you doing today?” she asks.