Endless Bonds Copyright © 2016 xXMopelXx All Rights Reserved.

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m running late for my Sports and Nutrition class and Sara is in the bathroom. She decides that she needs to shave her legs and pits half an hour before my class. I'm freaking out because my makeup bag is in the drawer and the door is locked.

I'm indisposed in my mint bodycon night dress with no bra or panties on. I'm shuffling around, packing my books, and trying to drink my coffee when I hear a hesitant knock on the door.

Odd. Sara isn't expecting anyone today, and Tara and I established that we're be meeting up, but that's after my class. I reluctantly hide behind the door as I crack it open, so whoever is on the other side doesn't have to see me barely dressed.

My mouth pops open.

Standing on the other side of my dorm room door is none other than my fiancée.

"Pierre," I breathe, trying to figure out if he's a mirage or reality.

The smirk I love so much tips the corners of his mouth and he steps inside, pushing open the door wider. I'm in a daze as I back away and let him enter. He shuts the door softly behind him.

"You're here."

"I'm here." His pale eyes twinkle. "Surprise, baby."

I launch myself at him, giggling. My legs wrap tightly around his waist, the way I know he loves, and I push my fingers into his unruly golden locks, tipping his head back and raining kisses all over his face and strong neck.

"Mm," he rumbles. "Slow down, Cherie." I hear his duffel bag drop to the ground with a thud. Then his hands are bracketing my bvtt and holding me up to him. "I just got here."

"Je t'aime." I peck his mouth a few times playfully. "I've fucking missed you so much."

He spins me around and plasters me against my door, mumbling against my mouth between kisses. "Ah, fvck. Moi plus. Longest weeks of my life without you, Cherie."

My head falls back against the door. He kisses my neck the way I love so much. "God, tu m'a manqué."

"Really?" he grazes his teeth down my neck, before he pulls back to look me in the eyes. There's a wicked glint there as he whips off his navy blazer, leaving him in nothing but some black slacks and a white dress shirt, still pinning me to the door. "Based on your snaps, I can tell that you've really missed me – since you haven't sent me one since you left."

"I've been busy. School's taking up all my time," I whine as he slowly undoes his dress shirt, taking his time on purpose. He's not even letting me do it for me. "Please."

"Non." His shirt gapes open and I love the smooth tanned skin revealed for my eyes. "Last time I let you undress me, you ripped my clothes apart, my petite sauvage. I don't feel like taking the train back home naked."

"You ripped my panties," I countered.

"Yes," he leaned forward and pressed his forehead to mine, biting my lower lip with his teeth. "And it was well deserving. Someone needs to punish you for being such a disobedient girl, Cheryl."

"You going to punish me now, love?" He kisses me and accentuates his cock right where I need it. I'm going to start to cry if he doesn't fuck me soon. I'm so horny for him.

"Oui," He chuckles darkly and takes my hands in his own, helping me unbuckle his belt. "For taking yourself away from me when I needed you the most. For thinking it's okay to be so far away. For making me come all the way here for a quickie."

"Gosh, what a hard life. What are we going to do?" I take him in my h*ands. He hisses. "It's not like you're about to get fucked within an inch of your life, eh?"

He raises his eyebrows and pushes my dress up to my waist. His eyes darken. He licks his lips. "You're going to fuck me within an inch of my life?" he laughs incredulously.

I end up moaning as I drag him against my wet center. I'm nodding heavily. I'm panting.

"No, Cherie." He locks eyes with me and I'm shook with the heat blazing in them. "I think you'll find that I'll be the one doing the fucking."

Without a word of warning, he slams home on a growl.

Then he literally makes love to me against my dorm room door, wringing out every once of release from me until I'm soft and pliant and whispering words of love against his matted hairline.

Sara's shaky voice bleeds out from the bathroom doorway, "Is it safe to come out yet?"

* * *

I'm skipping my class. Pierre promised me three orgasms. So far I've gotten two.

My head is on his chest and I'm running the back of my fingers up and down his torso as we lay in my bed, our limbs tangled. Pierre catches my hand and presses a kiss to it.

"Do you have to go?" I mumble into his warm skin. We're sweaty and sticky and in need of a shower, but I really don't care. He's here, in the flesh, and that's all that matters. Even if it's only for one more hour.

I'm going to miss him so much when he's gone.

Pierre's sigh vibrates through me. "Yeah. I hate to, but this was only supposed to be a pit stop. I had to beg my sister Geneviève to pass through Vancouver before I dropped her off at Montréal."

"Why is she going to Montréal again?"

"She's visiting my grandfather." Pierre shifts so his longish golden curls brush my forehead teasingly. He tips my chin and plants a cotton-soft kiss on my nose. "My father forced me to drop her there, say hello to a few relatives and come back."

I swing a leg over him. "How about Gen goes to Montreal on her own," I mount him and place my hands over his chest. Pierre's lips twist into a tender smile. "And I kidnap you and keep you here with me."

"Only for quickies?"

I lean forward, my breasts brushing his chest, my lips catching his for a brief kiss. "Only for quickies."

"Let me fuck you again, Cherie" he whispers softly, lovingly running his hands up and down. "Dieu knows I won't see you for a few months after this."

I trace his mouth with my finger. I grin when he lightly bites the pad of it. "I think you'll find that I'll be the one doing the fucking."

Pierre's head falls back against the pillows and he watches me through hooded lids. "Fait le," he pleads, all raspy. "Vite. Fast. Now."

When we come down from our high, our breaths mingle. Our foreheads together, I collapse on top of him - our frames slick with perspiration.

"Cher, why do you not have your ring on?"

I freeze. "I take it off when I shower, um. I was about to take a shower before you came."

He cocks an eyebrow like he doesn't believe me. "You still haven't told your mother about our engagement."

It's a statement. His words twist a knife in my chest. Oh, man.

I shake my head. "I'm sorry."

He clasps my face, softly. "Cherie...why?" His eyes search mine and I swallow. "When will you realize that not all good things come to an end? You shouldn't be scared to share your happiness because you think someone will jinx it."

I know what he's saying is true. He understands me. But I'm just so reluctant because of everything that's happened in my past. I want – no, need – Pierre to last.

"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me," I tell him in a whisper.

His face melts and he crushes his mouth to mine. "You are the best thing in my life."

"Next time when you come down, I want you to meet my mom, Pierre. She'd love you."

"I'm sure I'd love her, too." His light brown eyes are alight.

I'm about to go for round four when his phone rings. He groans in annoyance. "Please, pick that up, would you, Cher? Tell whoever is on the other line not to bother me. I'm about to get fucked within an inch of me life by my fiancée."

I'm giggling as I reach over to my nightstand. I pick up his phone. My face hardens when I see the name on the screen. The moment of bliss that we've been floating in is completely shattered.

I hoist myself out of my bed, letting the sheets fall down to Pierre's na*ked waist. Now I'm angry as I reject the call and whirl around, facing him with all my anger and insecurity on display.

"Why the fvck is Lise Moreau calling you?" I spit. Lise is his psycho ex-girlfriend who kind of cheated slash not cheated on him. She's obsessed with him. Even more now that he and I are engaged. I thought he stopped talking to her months ago. Apparently.

Alarmed, Pierre sits up abruptly in bed and reaches for his phone. I wave it out of his grasps, unlock it with his code – my birthday – and check their texts messages. I'm normally not this crazy, but I can't stand this fucking bitch. Not after she tried embarrassing me in front of Pierre and his parents' high and elite friends.

"We talk sometimes, Cher. It's not a big deal."

"Pierre," I throw my hands up. "Don't tell me it's not a big deal. We just had sex, you came like, four fucking times, and your bitch-ass of an ex-girlfriend is still texting you. After everything she's done. Are you fucking crazy?"

Pierre rises from my bed, his own temper flaring. "We made love. Not had sex. There's a difference. Don't turn this nasty, Cher," His accent gets thicker when he's mad. I can't even find it cute right now because I'm so mad. "And it's not like I told her – hey, I'm inside Cher right now, why don't you text me and cockblock us?"

"Ugh." I slap his phone into his palm and start stomping around. "I'm literally going to break her face if she calls or texts you again."

"Cher, our fathers work together. I can't completely cut her out of my life."

I'm scavenging through my closet for a clean dress I can wear. "I'm not telling you to cut her out of your life! I just don't want you seeing her, texting her, talking to her. Shit, if you have to see her at one of your dad's parties, I get it. But why are you encouraging more when you know she's crazy and still wants to be with you?"

"Cher, it's more complicated than that," he tries to soften the blow with his gentle tone.

"No, you know what's not complicated, Pierre?" I turn around and face him. "She had her chance. She cheated on you. She messed up. She lost you. You're mine now."

His face crumples and he runs his hands over his face. He's still naked. "Argh. I can't even be mad at you when you say cute shit like that."

I flick him the bird. "Be mad at this. I'm sure it means the same thing in French that it does in English."

His eyebrows knit together as he starts putting his slacks back on. "She needed help with an assignment two months ago and she texted me."

"Oh, of course. Naturally you're the only one who she can go to." I add under my breath. "Dumb bitch."

"I'm friends with her. She's my friend, Cher. I can't change that."

"Seriously, Pierre? You're too forgiving for your good. Newsflash. She fucked your ex-best friend. I don't know about you, but here, in Canada, that's serious violation of the bro code."

He snarls a little. "Don't be condescending, Cherie. I don't hold grudges. They can have each other. I'm over it."

"Well, damn. I'm not. So listen to this –"

"Cheryl!" he snaps.

I stand against my bathroom door, hair a mess, smelling like sex and him, my body heaving with the anger running through my veins. "I have a problem with her, Pierre. I don't want you talking to her. Please. Please, do this for me."

Pain slices his features. "I'll try...but I can't. She really needs my help and her father and mine...they expect us to be on good terms. I...I really can't."

I slump against the door and close my eyes. "You need to leave, Pierre."

"Cher-"

"Please, I'm annoyed, and need to hold onto my anger for a little longer. I need something to be mad at and your perfect face, hot body and even better penis are the best things to hate on right now. So, please, don't try to tell me I'm unreasonable. I need to hold onto this."

"There's so reason, Cherie. Laisse faire," he murmurs, "Let it go."

"Are you going to stop talking to her?"

"No." His answer his firm.

So is mine. "Then you should leave."

"Baby...I still have one hour before I need to be back at the airport, don't do this."

"Then you'll be there even earlier. You can even grab yourself a nice bite, eh? I hear Nanaimo bars are a Canadian speciality. That and a solid black coffee would go so well together. You'd love it."

"That's it? That's all you have to say?

I don't care if I'm being Petty. Lise fucking Moreau ruined my first encounter with Pierre's parents. Calling me his side-hoe. Telling his conservative parents that we'd been friends with benefits long before we got together. That I was a stripper in Vancouver. That I had broken up her and Pierre. His parents loved me very much, I knew that. But it didn't change the fact that Lise was a snake. In my short time at France, I met some wonderful people, but never a grade-A b*tch like Lise. I couldn't stand her.

"I'll have more to say when you stop talking to Lise and block her. Forever."

Pierre quietly put his clothes on while I sulked in my silence. I knew it was childish sending him away like this, but I knew how to get what I wanted from him.

He'd go home, realize his mistake, and either text or call me. Then everything would be okay. I hated doing this, but this was the only way I'd get to him.

He shot his dress shirt at me. "Here. Keep this. Something to remember me by."

I already had so many things to remember him by. His ring. His snow globe. His pictures. "Oh?"

"Yeah, I guess I'm taking the plane shirtless, with nothing but my jeans and blazer."

"It's a fitting punishment. Though I imagine you have a change of clothes in that duffel bag of yours," I sniff.

He smirks teasingly. "Wouldn't dare of packing an extra set of clothes, baby. Mon dieu, who does that?"

"Only stupid people," I smile.

"I'm going to miss you."

"I'm going to maybe...miss you."

"I'll text you an apology when I'm home, yeah?"

"You better. Or else I'll be on the next place to haunt your cul in Paris."

"Then maybe I won't text you. At least this way you'll come back to Paris."

"Only for quickies?" It's getting harder to resist him.

He snags an arm around my waist and pulls me to him. I'm wearing his dress shirt now and it hits me mid-thighs. He loves it on me. "Only for quickies," he promises and kisses me goodbye.

I walk him out and stand by my doorframe as I watch him go down the staircase.

He turns back once. "Je t'aime."

I don't say anything. Only smile lovingly at my stupid fiancée.

"Won't you say it to me?"

"I already said it once," I call out to him. "But if you text me that apology, I might say it again."

He winks. "Already on it, mon amour. Au revoir."

I blow him a kiss and he laughs, pretending to catch it.

When he's long gone, I stay rooted to my spot, my body languidly leaning against my door, smiling at the place Pierre was once at.

Then the door of the room in front of me opens and a guy steps out into the hallway.

It's Trenton and he pauses midway, his jeans barely buttoned and his shirt sitting halfway on his muscular torso. He stares at me, eyes wide in surprise.

I stare back, my eyes just as big. My, God...he's a sight to behold.

Then there's an awkward moment where we both realize we got laid. I have major sex hair, and I'm wearing a men's dress shirt. He's got mussed hair and I'm pretty sure that's a lipstick stain on his cheek. The hallway smells like sex.

I blink. "Hi."

"You're kidding me," he replies all dry and curt, his lips curling in disgust as his eyes rake up and down my body.

I frown at him. I've dealt with too much today. "Um, did you forget to pull your head out of you're asshole this morning?"

"My head's been up a few a$sholes. What's your problem?"

I scrunch my face. "My god, you're filthy." I did not need to know Trent has done anal. "I don't have a problem. You're the one who's being...weird this morning."

I haven't seen him since the cemetery encounter.

Trent sighs frustratedly and he finishes getting dressed in the empty hallway. "I'm just annoyed right now."

"You shouldn't be annoyed. You should be relaxed. You just got laid."

"So did you, yet you're jumping my throat and accusing me of jammed heads in assholes."

I look at him, barely suppressing a glare.

"Look...I need to go. I'm in a bit of a hurry. But, do you want to maybe, I don't know, catch up?"

Suddenly I realize that I'm practically naked in front of my childhood best friend, with no bra or panty on. Donned in nothing but my fiancée's shirt. I fold my arms over my chest. Fuck. My cheeks flame. "Yeah, I'm down for that."

Trent's gaze...it's slowly devouring me. He swallows carefully, his voice husky when he speaks. "I'm headed for a class right now, but tomorrow morning do you want to do late brunch of something?"

"Yeah, I'm good with that."

"Great. Do you want me to pick you up?" he asks in a clipped tone, now keeping his gaze away from me.

I respond just as curt. Trying not to check him out. "Sure. Yes. That would be great."

"All right. Be ready for noon."

"Perfect."

Without sparing me another glance, Trent saunters down the hallway until he reaches the staircase. Then he peeks over his shoulder and his baby blues flare in color. Heat. So much heat. "Oh, and Cheryl?"

"Hmm?"

"You might want to change. I can literally see your n*pples from here."

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Anddddd leaveeee meee your thoughts, babes