After Luc left, I sank my weary head into the fluffy pillows. The sun was high up in the sky, signalling that it was noon, or at least late morning. Definitely time, finally, for sleep. Or not. Darren embraced me from behind, his hands roaming across my breasts, his cock hardening against the cleft of my asscheeks.

I turned to face him. "Darren, one thing on my mind."

"Hmmmm?" Darren lifted a breast to his mouth, helping himself to a soft suck.

"How the hell did you ever understand what Luc was saying? I mean, you don't know any French, and it didn't look like he knew a lick of English either."

He let the breast fall out of his mouth. "Male intuition, my dear."

"Run that by me again."

"Male intuition. Just like I told you on the train. Pure psychic feeling."

In my fog of exhaustion, it was a good enough explanation for me. Except Darren wasn't finished. If anything, he was downright wired. "Must you sleep now, Sabrina? We still haven't really seen Paris."

"Paris will still be around when I wake up, unless aliens decide to attack it."

Darren squeezed me closer, held me tighter, ignored my cranky comment. "Tonight I'll take you to dinner at Bouddha Bar, then watch the lights from the Eiffel Tower." His warm lips pressed to my forehead. "Have you ever thought about fucking on the top of the Eiffel Tower?"

As I faded into the welcome unconsciousness, I thought, No, but why do I have a distinct feeling I'm going to find out?