Mr. Masters (Mr. 1)

“Are you using the theorem of calculus to measure my ass?”

He laughs out loud and rolls me onto my back, holding my hands above my head. “Your mind is a fucking turn on,” he breathes before his tongue gently explores my mouth. I just can’t get my fill of this guy. “I could say the same thing. I’ve never had bilingual sex before.” I smile. Hell, most guys I’ve slept with can’t even speak English to me when we have sex, let alone drop in and out of three languages.

He smiles as he bites my bottom lip and pulls it toward him. “Moi

non plus. Je peux être accro.”

Translation: Me neither. I may be addicted.

I have always had a love of languages. They were my stress reliever when I was in high school and my parents were divorcing. I would lock myself in my bedroom and listen to language tapes through headphones so I couldn’t hear them fighting. Looking back, all those hours alone in my room spent teaching myself was worth it just to experience the night I had with him. He challenged me, but I challenged him right back, and I know I surprised him. Hell, I surprised myself. It was empowering to be able to keep up with such an obviously intelligent man. Our eyes lock and something clicks into place as I feel a flutter deep in my stomach.

“What do you do for work?” I ask to change the subject.

He lies naked on his side and rubs his hand over my breast, squeezing it hard. “I’m a mechanic.”

I bite my lip to stifle my smile. He has softer hands than me. No way is he a mechanic.

So, we’re playing that game, are we?

“What do you do?” he asks.

“I work in an ice cream shop.”

He can’t hide his smile. “You are a dreadful liar. There is no way in Hell you serve ice cream.”

I laugh. “You lied first.”

He laughs as his lips drop to my nipple and he takes it in his mouth. “Touché.” He smirks.

“What do you think I do?” I ask.

He narrows his eyes as he thinks. “Your body tells me you are a gym instructor, but your mind tells me you’re a scientist.”

I smile as I bring his lips to meet mine. “I have to go.” I sit up.

He frowns and leans up onto his elbow. “What? Where are you going?”

I stand up, and his eyes drop down my body. “New York,” I answer.

He frowns, “You’re going home? Today?”

I nod as I walk around his room picking up my clothes. “Uh-huh.”

I pick up my phone and check the time. “I fly out in three hours. I’ve got to get a move on.”

His face drops. “But…”

I pick up my bra and put it on. “But what?”

“I wanted to see you again,” he says as he watches me dress.

I smile and lean over the bed to kiss his gorgeous lips. “Hmm.” I smile against them. “Sorry. Bachelorette weekend is over.”

He leans up and grabs me, pulling me back on top of him. “Stay another night.”

God, I wish. He kisses me again.

“I already have my plane ticket for today,” I breathe.