“Are you okay?”
I nodded, trying to regain control of my shallow breaths. “I just need a drink.”
Or six.
“Or… maybe we can talk?”
I glanced up into the blue eyes of Mr Biceps, and when he smiled, a dazzling white-toothed smile, I shrugged. “Sure, why not?”
We stepped out of the dark doorway and walked around to the side of the club. My mind was very much on Jason and the woman with the gigantic norks, but I figured chatting to Mr Biceps, whose real name was Julien, would be better than getting smashed and having to deal with day two of the tour with a massive hangover. Even if he was lazy and a little self-obsessed.
I leaned back against the wall of the club, trying to figure out exactly what we would talk about. We’d exchanged maybe ten words all day, and I was certain three of them had been me muttering, “Bloody useless prick,” under my breath while he checked his thick, dark hair before taking another photo of himself.
“You don’t like the club?” he asked as he leaned back against the wall beside me.
I shook my head. “It’s not that. I just wanted a break from the noise.”
Julien nodded. “I was going to have a smoke, but…” he looked me up and down appreciatively, “…I think talking with you might be better.”
I couldn’t fault his English, and a small part of me got a kick out of the way he looked at me. I was only wearing jeans and a black vest top, and black boots – there was no point wearing my best clothes to a grimy club. The girl Jason had picked up had been wearing a short, figure-hugging dress and killer heels, probably with the sole intention of hooking up with someone. Crappy as I felt about witnessing that, I was secure enough in myself that I didn’t feel the need to tart myself up just to attract attention. If I couldn’t get attention simply by being me, I didn’t want it.
I turned to face him, my shoulder still against the wall. “So, how did you get a job with Razes Hell?”
Julien smiled the kind of smile you see on magazine covers. He looked more suitable for modelling work than lugging heavy equipment around. “My father is the owner of this club. I am a big fan of Razes Hell, so he asked if I could help today. I was very happy to meet them.”
Mmhmm. That was clear from the amount of snaps you took with your phone.
“Will you be helping tomorrow night too?” I asked.
?
??No. It was just for tonight.” He pushed away from the wall with his foot and turned, taking a small step closer to me. “You will be going on the rest of the tour with the band?”
“Yes.”
“I have been watching you today. You are a writer?”
“Not yet, but maybe one day. I’m studying journalism at university. I’m writing about the tour as… practice, I guess.”
“They are very lucky to have such a beautiful woman with them.” He smiled again, his head tilting to the side slightly as his eyes flicked up and down my body again. Maybe he wasn’t so bad. After all, he certainly had the charm thing down. Score another point for France – not only was there magic in the air, the men had… if not class, at least better chat up lines than, ‘Alright, love? Fancy a bag of chips and a shag?’
“Is that so?” I asked.
“Yes.” He took another small step towards me. “That is so.”
Julien leaned closer to me, his hands lightly resting on my waist, and he whispered, “I would really like to kiss you.”
I hesitated for a moment, considering his request. Well, why the hell not? He was gorgeous, and I did promise myself I’d experience some things while I was away. At what other point in my life had I been given the opportunity to kiss someone who would probably one day adorn the covers of romance novels?
“I’d like that too,” I told him, smiling.
As his hands moved down to my hips, I rested mine on his waist. His kiss was as smooth as he was, his tongue flicking into my mouth before I even had time to blink. I relaxed into him, and I swear I felt him smile against my lips. I hadn’t had many kisses, but this was by far one of the best – his lips were soft and gentle, and his tongue danced expertly with mine.
Except, he didn’t stop.
I tried to turn my head a little, hoping he’d take the hint. He didn’t, he just held me tighter and continued to move his mouth over mine. Hoping he was just crap at reading signals, I wriggled in his grip then moved my hands to his chest to push him back, but he closed the gap between us, pushing my hands down to my sides and holding my wrists so I couldn’t move. My heart rate kicked up a few notches; his strength made it so easy for him to overpower me and when I tried to free my hands, he held on tighter.
“Stop,” I managed to say, turning my head away from him.