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ocean sounded great.  
    He threw my dress at me.
    “Julia, get your clothes on,” he said. “We have to leave immediately.”
    “It’s okay, Jake,” I said. “It was the best birthday present ever.”
    I didn’t feel as calm as I pretended, but he was unhinged and it scared me.
    He shook his head. Looked at me like I was an alien or something.
    “Julia, are you serious?” he asked.
    “Yes, I am,” I said.
    Now he was starting to piss me off.
    Was I that horrible?
    So disgusting as to be tossed aside the instant he shot a hot load inside me?
    “This was so fucking wrong,” he said, “We have to forget it ever happened.”
    I slipped back into my soiled dress. Picked up my shredded panties and slipped them into my purse. I was going to keep those forever. They were precious to me now.
    Jake threw his clothes on and dragged me toward the elevator.  
    Every lusty fantasy I’d had since setting eyes on him had just been fulfilled. In real life. A shiver of pleasure washed through me.
    It couldn’t end like this.
    I needed more. Needed him to know I felt what he was feeling too. But that we had to get through it. For each other.
    Besides, not every lusty fantasy had been fulfilled. There were still quite a few begging for his attention.

CHAPTER EIGHT

    We got down from the top of the Eiffel Tower with surprising ease. Jake stuffed a huge wad of big, colorful Euro bills into the old guard’s coat pocket and apologized.  
    He was so smooth.
    The guard escorted us down the lower elevator and waved goodbye as we marched to the limousine. Jake opened the door for me and didn’t say a word.
    I piled in and slumped against the far door.  
    He sat as far from me as he could and instructed Antonio to take us back to the hotel.
    Our beautiful moment atop the Eiffel Tower had somehow shattered on the ground below.
    I felt so awkward. So alone.
    I still felt him inside me. The warm ache of his absence. A cool wetness on my inner thighs. A cold reflection of his attitude right now. Confusion swirled inside me and made my stomach hurt. The faint taste of his cum lingered on my tongue. Off in the distance, lost in the parade of city lights, cars honked as they made their way through the hive of ancient streets.
    Well after midnight, and Paris still hummed. A beautiful inviting feeling that hurt all the worse because it was so the total opposite to the void between Jake and me.
    Three feet of physical space that felt like a million miles.
    I turned to him, hands on my hips. The universal business pose that women used when they demanded attention.
    Jake held his palm up to my face. The universal sign for stop right there. Do not pass. Do not talk. No. No.
    “Never again,” he said.
    His eyes stared forward. A cold wall of air between us threatened to shatter me into a million pieces.
    I reached for his shoulder. To calm him. To calm me.
    He shook me off with a angry huff. He didn’t make eye contact. The line of his jaw flexed and coiled.  
    Why was he so mad at me?  
    I didn’t want him to hate me. I couldn’t stand that. Sadness gripped my chest like a tightening vise. His fresh rain and woods smell filled my world and made the lonely ache worse.
    Was that my first and last time with him?
    Ever?
    A knot lodged in my throat. It choked me almost as much as his cock had just moments earlier. A sob broke out of my chest.  
    I tried not to. I knew Jake didn’t want to see me cry. But I couldn’t help it.
    Tears streamed down my cheeks and clung to my jaw. I was crushed. Demolished to dust and nothing. I needed him.
    “Never again, Julia,” he said.
    He finally turned to me, and noticed my tears. His face instantly softened and he wiped away the salty streams.
    “Please stop crying. You need to pull it together.”
    “Jake,” I said, “please don’t say never. Not after how perfect it was.”
    “Julia,” he said and then stopped.
    He looked down at his hands, clasped and flexing.
    “It was wrong, Julia,” he