We Will Always Have Paris

Chapter Twelve

We tripped over each other in our eagerness to be one. We ran, my hair flowing behind in a torrent of waves, back to my dorm room. Back to Paris. At full sprint we crashed into my door, falling into each other's arms as I struggled to get the door open before this fire died out.
I fumbled with my key as he kissed my neck, the place that made me shiver, as his hands roamed my tender body.
"Marilyn, I can't wait..." he gasped suddenly, eyes burning me to the soul. I knew then, there was no turning back. If I had ever wanted to stop this I should have walked away after I took his picture in that Parisian street. We were in too deep now, the only thing that was stopping me now was Alain.
Alain's in Paris... I thought, remembering those corrupted hands touching me. Gerald's hands were smooth, fingers long and elegant; the hands of a sophisticated man, a man I could be with for the rest of my time.
I shoved the door open and pulled Gerald inside, pulling off his high school Letter Jacket as I did so. Beneath that he wore a white tee-shirt, his lean body showed through sharply. Gerald slipped his hands under my dress and slowly raised the hem of the dress I was wearing.
"Can I take this off?"
"Oui." I breathed, sighing into him as he slipped it over my head. I heard him gasp. I stepped away. "What is it?"
"You are so beautiful. So beautiful." His tender lips met mine and I felt all of my worries fall away.
I was Gerald's, and he was mine.
We never made it to my bed, but the area rug did nicely. His hips circled as he entered me, creating the most wonderful experience I've ever felt. I kissed him everywhere that my lips could reach, our bodies connected in ways indescribable. I made a soft crying noise as I felt him release inside of me and Gerald shuddered violently in response. He didn't pull out after he came; instead we lay facing each other, still connected.
His hand stroked my face, "How was it?"
I snagged his hand in mine, sliding closer to him as I did so. "I loved it, like I love you." His smile lit up the room.
"I love you." Our lips met as we made love again.
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Gerald's POV:
I left Marilyn tucked up in bed. She had complained of being sore, and no wonder we had fucked four times and I doubted she had ever been ridden like that before. As much as I didn't want to leave her I was starving and I knew she was too. I whistled cheerfully as I exited her building, thinking about the happy look in her eyes after that first time.
I was enough for her, enough to erase Alain and everything he had done to her. She was more than enough for me as well. I was walking down the steps when a shadow appeared behind me. Whoever was behind me pushed me down sharply and I landed in a heap on the concrete.
"Ou est Marilyn?" a familiar French voice snapped at me
"In her room, Emilie." I blinked up at her, the halo of her hair framing her face and effectively blocking out the sunlight.
"What did you do to her?" a deep voice growled. I turned my head to regard this new person. He was about as tall as me, brown eyes glowering, short brown hair sticking up like an angry porcupine.
"What's it too you?!" I snapped, sitting up slowly so as not to startle my captors, well mainly Emilie. I'm sure that given the choice she would kill me.
"Because I'm her friend, we all are, and we didn't like you stealing her out from underneath us." He crossed his arms and I noticed the two other guys behind him. One of them looked like Harry Styles...
"It wasn't like you weren't watching." I reminded him and the dark haired man stepped menacingly towards me.
"You do not understand!" Emilie cried, falling to the ground next to me and taking my hand. I resisted the urge to pull away.
"What don't I understand?" I asked softly, a horrible feeling in my gut.
She leaned into me, almost lovingly, and squeezed my hand. "Alain raped her the day you left, that's why she didn't come with you to America. She lost her baby." She paused, watching me carefully. Her voice was soft enough that only I could hear her. "It was your baby, Gerald."
I wasn't aware of my screaming until the tall man with brown hair slapped me sharply across the face.
"Shut up!" he growled, "Emilie, Emilie what did you tell him? What did you say?" he was screaming, frantic to know what was wrong and I sat there feeling the horror bursting in my chest at each pump of my heart.
"No, no, no, no, no, no..." I mumbled softly.
The guy who looked like Harry Styles suddenly spoke up, "We got pizza. Would you care to join us, Gerald?" I gaped at his use of my name and the other two men took this as an okay to be less mean to me.
"I can't stay...not after..." I gazed pleadingly at Emilie.
"After what you just did to her now, if you leave she will never recover. Stay. Tell you know in your own time, when it will not hurt as much." I nodded and took her hand, feeling the sturdy muscles of her arm as I was pulled up.
"Sorry I knocked you down the stairs." The dark haired man said sheepishly, "My name's Cole. Marilyn's hot, good for you."
"Yes, thank you. Um, that's okay. They weren't that bad of...ah stairs?" my conversational skills weren't really up to par at the moment but Cole didn't seem to mind. We made the trip back upstairs with the two pizza boxes.
At Marilyn's door I said, "She might be, ah, naked. At least that's how I left her."
"That's okay." Said the tall one, "I already slept in the same bed as her." I gaped at him as Emilie opened the door.
"Wow Gerald, that was fast..." Marilyn was sitting upright in bed, breasts exposed, and her hair in a sexy tangle. She quickly pulled up the sheets as she noticed the rest of the people in bed with me.

"I see you met my friends." A small smile played on her lips as her friends laughed. I finally felt complete.