Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 61922 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61922 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
“That’s…depressing.” He set his laptop on the coffee table with a sigh. “So the love story in the gay tomb is an anomaly.”
“I’m afraid so.”
“I was hoping there were others like them.” Winnie slumped theatrically. “It sucks being on the outs throughout all of fucking history. I know it, I’ve lived it. I wish there was more.”
“More…what?”
“Love. I love love stories. I love romance.” He threw his hands in the air. “There, I admit it. I love candlelit dinners, long walks, sexy music, and rom-coms where the underdog gets the guy or the girl. I mean, c’mon, is it too much to ask for a damn happily ever after?”
I widened my eyes and nudged his arm playfully. “Are we still talking about ancient Egyptians?”
“Yes, ’cause those manicurists have a damn cool story and they shared it with the world in pictures and words and…” Winnie sighed. “It’s amazing. I was hoping there were more stories like theirs. It’s nice to think that love like this has existed for thousands of years, and that it was celebrated. We all want a taste of that…or at least, we’d like to feel less alone.”
I nodded. “I suppose that’s true.”
“Does Gerard know what it says?”
“I’m sure he has an idea. He wants to link the newer ostracon to the one at the British Museum and present it at the conference next week. He texted me earlier to discuss it.”
“Have you done any research for Gerard’s project?”
“No, I have my own work to do,” I replied.
He raised a brow and snapped his fingers. “Just like that?”
“I don’t work for Gerard. I translated the passage for him as promised, and whilst I admit there’s some interesting crossover, I don’t have the time or resources to delve deeper. He’ll have to wait.”
“Wow. You’re kind of a badass.”
I snorted. “That’s right, and I have better things to do than have a natter with my ex’s husband.”
Winnie’s eyes sparked with renewed humor. “Oh? Like what?”
“You.”
He barked a laugh and beamed at me. “My naughty professor.”
I kissed his forehead, nose, and lips. “Come. I want to show you something.”
I pulled the curtain open wider, motioning to the light display out the window.
Winnie pressed a hand to his heart in delight as he gazed at the Eiffel Tower sparkling and glittering in the indigo sky. “It’s so beautiful.”
“It’s very pretty,” I agreed.
“Pretty? It’s incondolent!”
I pursed my lips in amusement. “I believe you mean incandescent.”
“Yes! Incandescent.” He hummed reverently. “I’ve seen it every night, but never in a storm.”
I unlatched the door to the balcony and stepped outside, lifting a palm to the sky. “It’s wet, but it’s stopped raining. Come join me.”
Winnie leaned his back against my chest, tilting his chin as I set my hands on his hips and breathed in his scent.
“It’s bejeweled to the nines…like every inch of it is covered in diamonds. This is magic. When I’m sweeping up hair and mixing dyes, I’m going to remember this moment.”
So would I.
Neither of us spoke for a minute or two. This was usually where I’d share a few interesting facts about the Eiffel Tower. It was the tallest structure in Paris, it was built in two years, it was once painted yellow. I had twenty more tidbits, but I kept them to myself and nuzzled his ear.
“You’ll find your happily ever after someday, Win—the right job, the right person. You’re too extraordinary to accept anything less. And thousands of years from now, perhaps some intrepid archeologist will unearth your story and be inspired.”
He turned in my arms, his eyes shiny and bright. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
I wanted to assure him that I meant every word, but my tongue felt too heavy and I didn’t trust my ability to form coherent sentences. So I captured his mouth in a searing kiss, the glow from the Eiffel Tower shimmering like a halo around him.
Winnie was far from angelic, but he was pure in his own way…solid and real. When he was home again, thinking of Paris, I’d be thinking of him.
But he was here now, and I wasn’t going to waste a precious second on work.
We headed inside, shedding clothing as we moved into the bedroom. Sensual kisses accompanied low moans and wanton writhing. Winnie bent between my legs and sucked me to near oblivion. I kneeled behind him, entering him with care—my hands on his hips, my lips hovering near his ear.
We were good at this already. The heady give-and-take, the slide of skin. I’d learned to read his body. I knew he liked it hard and dirty. I knew that he loved praise…any kind—his eyes, his arse, his cock. And I knew which whimpering sound meant he was close.
I flattened him against the mattress and rolled sideways, lifting his left leg as I pumped my hips double time. Winnie stroked himself and my God, with his sex-drunk half-hooded gaze and dark hair strewn across the white pillow, he was a devil and an angel. Dark and light, sin and heaven all at once.