Lost In France (Firebird Trilogy) Read Free Page A

intercom announcement interrupted the silence, ordering me back to my seat.
    The cabin lights had been dimmed, yet Alain grinned as his  gaze raked my body. He whistled softly below his breath. My transformation was not lost on him. I smiled back at him, delighted to have this effect on the handsome Frenchman.
    Ms. Desperate shot me a dirty look and retreated to the gallery with a heavy sigh.

Chapter 5
    Turbulence dipped the plane and despite bracing myself, I lost my balance. Alain reached out to grab my arm to steady me, but when another jolt followed, I was forced onto his lap.
    He pulled me to him, his strong arms encircling me. My heart beat wildly as I tried to settle myself, resting my hands against his hard and muscular chest. Even through the fabric of his dress shirt, I could feel that his chest was smooth.
    The back of his hand caressed slowly over my cheek and traced along my jaw, the pad of his thumb skimming over my lower lip. Mesmerized, I licked over my lips, my mouth dry as a desert.
    His fingertips glided down my neck, igniting heat in my groin and fire in his eyes. Before I knew, his hands were at the nape of my neck, pulling my mouth to his as he brushed his lips playfully over mine. His lips were soft and I closed my eyes to absorb the pleasure. His kiss became more urgent and passionate, as he forced my mouth open with his deft tongue, as if taking delight in tasting me.
    He tasted of wine and longing. His hand stroked down the curve of my back and came to rest on my ass, his fingers burning through the fabric of my skirt. I hadn’t been kissed this passionately in a very long time. And, certainly never by a Frenchman.
    Crazy, panicked thoughts ran riot through my mind. What now? How should I respond? I’d never been in a situation like this before…with a stranger. I was aroused beyond my imagination and yearning for his touch. Desire unfurled, burning from the inside out. It was both frightening and exhilarating.
    I felt his erection stir against my hip as a groan rumbled from his chest. His tongue plundered my mouth, stroking my tongue sensuously. Inhibitions lost, I kissed him back till I was breathless.
    “You taste delicious,” he panted against my mouth. My nipples strained against the fine silky fabric—desperate to break free—hungry for his touch.
    The sexy Frenchman’s mouth worked its way down from my jaw, kissing my neck, his breath warm and sensuous against my skin. Without warning, he freed my breasts from their constraint, cupping them gently in his palms. I gasped as he pulled a nipple into his mouth and sucked gently. Liquid fire spread from my nipple to my groin. Fighting to suppress a shudder, I moaned softly against his neck.
    His five o’clock shadow brushed the delicate skin of my breasts as he moved from one breast to the other. The sensation caused by the contrast between his luscious soft lips and the roughness of his stubble prickling my skin, was downright intoxicating.
    Gently he caressed my other breast, his thumb working my nipple to a hard nub. I loved the roughness of his winemaker hands. These were working hands. He was so very cultured in every way—yet his love of the land, of the vines in particular, brought a very earthy quality to him that was sexy beyond anything I’d experienced before.
    Alain’s hand on my ass gradually snaked to my ankles and disappeared under my long skirt, burning into my flesh as his hand ran slowly, sensuously up my thigh, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.
    In my wildest of dreams I would never have seen this coming.
    His index finger traced the outline of my panty, his palm pushing against my sex, rubbing and coaxing.
    Oh God!
    I’d all but forgotten how good that felt.
    I should stop him. Soon.
    It was too late to pretend I wasn’t turned on, h e’d know just how aroused I was simply by feeling the dampness between my thighs. A slender finger slipped under the fine lace and found my hard bud. His warm lips quickly