Page 31 of Sexting the Single Pakhan

Silence. Then Tasha screams again, this time so loud I’m sure her neighbors can hear.

“WHAT?! And you’re just now telling me?! You hoarded this information from me! Details. Now. Every. Single. One.”

I laugh, burying my face in the pillow for a second before I give in and tell her everything.

When I finish, Tasha lets out a long, dramatic sigh. “I knew it. I knew he’d be good in the sack. Men like that fuck like they do business: ruthlessly, thoroughly, and leave you ruined for anyone else.”

I groan. “Yeah, you’re right about that.” I don’t know how I’m supposed to have sex with another guy after that.

“You look like you’re having flashbacks. Are you falling for him?”

“It’s just sex, Tasha.”

“Just sex with a gorgeous billionaire who flew you to Paris on his private jet. Babe. Take what you can get. I’m proud of you. You finally let go of that V-card, and you did it right.”

We talk for an hour, her gushing, and eventually she yawns. “I have to crash, girl. Early shift tomorrow. But promise me you’ll enjoy Paris. And enjoy him. You deserve it.”

“I’ll try,” I say softly.

“Love you.”

“Love you too.”

I hang up, set the phone down, and crawl under the covers. Exhaustion hits hard. I barely slept last night, between Leonid’s hands and mouth and the way he kept waking me up for more. I drift off almost instantly, his scent still clinging to the pillow.

When I wake again, the room is brighter, afternoon sun streaming through the curtains. My phone buzzes on the nightstand: Leonid.

I answer, voice still thick with sleep. “Hey.”

“Hey. Just finished the meeting,” he says, voice low and warm. “On my way back. Get ready.”

“Okay.” I smile even though he can’t see it.

I jump up, heart already racing. I wash my face, curl my hair into loose waves, swipe on mascara and a soft pink lip gloss, then slip into the dress I bought yesterday, a simple but elegant midi in soft powder blue, cinched at the waist, with straps and a flowy skirt that hits mid-calf.

I’m slipping on low heels when my bedroom door opens. Leonid steps in, suit jacket slung over one arm, sleeves rolled to his elbows. His eyes find me instantly and darken, hungry, raking from my hair down to my bare legs and back up.

He crosses the room in three strides. Before I can speak, his hand cups my face and he kisses me, deep, possessive, tasting faintly of mint and coffee. My knees weaken; I clutch his shirt for balance.

When he pulls back, his voice is rough. “If we don’t leave now, we won’t make it to lunch.”

I giggle, giddy. “Then we should go.”

He groans softly, presses one more quick kiss to my lips, then takes my hand.

Lunch is impossibly romantic. We share plates of escargot swimming in garlic-parsley butter, and a perfect coq au vin with tender chicken falling off the bone.

We talk easily. He tells me he’s in Paris to look at properties he’s considering for investment, boutique hotels mostly. I listen, fascinated, asking questions about architecture and restoration that make him smile in that quiet way of his.

After lunch, we walk, our fingers laced together. Paris in the afternoon feels alive but gentle, and then we take a private boat along the river. The boat is small, open-air, just us and the captain.

We sit close on the cushioned bench, Leonid’s arm around my shoulders, my head resting against his chest.

By evening, we’re back on dry land for dinner at a candlelit restaurant overlooking the Jardin des Tuileries. We talk about nothing and everything: my favorite students, his earliest memories of Moscow winters, the way Paris smells different at night. His thumb strokes the inside of my wrist the entire time.

After dinner, we walk toward the Eiffel Tower. It’s fully dark now, the tower already sparkling, thousands of tiny lights flickering like captured stars. A street violinist plays nearby, slow and achingly beautiful, the notes floating over the crowd of lovers holding hands, kissing, laughing softly.

Couples sway together under the glow; a young man goes down on one knee a few yards away, ring box open, and his girlfriend bursts into happy tears.