Friday, April 2, 2010

64.) Montreal

Soundtrack Song - MGMT, Kids

That Sunday had been a whirlwind of activity. First, there was the afternoon game against Nashville. The team had lost, but Kris had played pretty well; he had assisted on the Pens’ third period goal and was a plus for the day, despite the outcome. But he had failed to score in the shootout. Not that it would have made a difference, necessarily, but he was still cranky over the loss. If I knew Kris—and I was pretty sure I did—he was caught up in wondering if one pass had been cleaner, or if one shot had been a little more to the left, or if he would have deked to the left in the shootout, then maybe it would have been a completely different game.

I told him that he played well and gave it his all, and that he should give up that line of thinking. Of course, that was easier said than done. Kris nodded like he agreed with my reasoning, but it didn’t cheer him up. I’d tried a lot of different things, like reciting his stats to prove he had a good game and joking to change the subject. And then when that didn’t work, I even threatened to pull him into one of the arena’s bathrooms and force a smile from him, but that, too, was unsuccessful. During the flight, I had focused on reading the essays for my comp class. Sometimes, when a person wants to be moody and sullen, you just have to let them; I knew he’d perk up soon enough, because he was excited to go home and see his mother.

Kris, Max, and I had headed for the airport immediately after the game, to fly into Montreal. Surprisingly, my professors had all been cool with me missing a couple classes—Kris didn’t like the idea of me missing the full week and a half of his Olympic break, so I was only going to be with him until the eighteenth. It was a compromise that we were both comfortable with: I’d get to spend some time with Kris and hopefully help him the same way he had helped me while also proving to him (and myself) that I didn’t need him around constantly, and Kris would get to show me his home and the parts of his life that he had only been able to talk about before.

And I’m not gonna lie: I was pretty interested to see how he was going to act and handle Luc’s birthday. He was so strong all the time, and it’s not that I was hoping to see him falter, but I wondered if he would ever seem not so... stable. It’s not that I wanted to see Kris weak—that sounds so selfish when I say that. But I just felt that Kris was guiding me down a path that led to not ever being sad over James anymore, and I didn’t think I could ever be that over his death. Sure, Kris said he was still sad and still missed Luc all the time, but it never appeared that way. I needed visual proof that it was okay to be sad once in a while, and I needed to see it from Kris. I felt like I was going to be able to see for myself come the sixteenth, in two more days.

It had been overwhelming when the plane landed, because I hadn’t really put a lot of thought into what was going to happen once we set foot in Canada. I knew what was going to happen, but I didn’t know the how. Plus, this was Quebec, so there was the whole French thing. You never realize until you’re in another country just how important language is; it’s definitely something we take for granted. I mean, there was English on some signs, especially in the airport, but my brain was trying to recognize spoken French as English, so I felt very out of place and confused, like I was always a step behind. So I let Kris and Max lead the way to baggage claim.

I knew the game plan: rest up and get ready at Kris’s parents’, and then Kris and I were going out for a late Valentine’s dinner. Then we were going to meet up with Max for a night out on the town because, well, Max said so. Even though it was Valentine’s Day, Max had insisted on the two of them taking me out in a real party city. Kris had tried to tell Max that it was supposed to be a quiet, romantic night for us and that he didn’t really care about going out anyway, but Max couldn’t have cared less.

“It’s Montréal! Jo, you will love it. It won’t matter that it’s a Sunday, because the clubs will be hoppin’ anyway.”

“But it’s Valentine’s Day. Just because you don’t have a girlfriend—” Kris argued, but Max shut him up with a simple wave of his hand.

Mon Dieu, I don’t give two shits about that. If it were Steak and Blow Job Day—that would be another story. Then I’d leave you alone. I’d be busy then, too.”

I giggled and Kris looked between me and Max with a confused expression. He obviously had never heard of it before. I told Max, “If you had a thoughtful and caring girlfriend, Valentine’s Day would be Steak and Blow Job Day.”

He rolled his eyes in disbelief as we headed toward the car rental station after we picked up our bags. Max was the one to rent the SUV, and we all piled in our bags and tired bodies. He dropped us off at a small house in the city, letting us know that he’d text us with the details of the night later.

Kris got our bags from the back and led me up to the front door. That’s when I really started to get nervous: when it hit me that I was meeting his mother. Not just meeting my boyfriend’s mother, but meeting the most important woman in his life. I started panicking in my head, Oh shit. Oh fuck. Ohshitohfuck....

We didn’t even make it to the door before it swung open and this little woman with the biggest smile ever rushed out into the cold February air and began to furiously assault Kris with hugs and harried French words. Although I couldn’t understand a word she was saying, I was pretty sure I could figure out what she was saying, like, “Look at my little boy! Every time I see you, you’re even bigger than before. You must be still growing. And look at your hair! I hope you plan on getting it cut soon. I didn’t raise my boy to look like a hippie, even a handsome hippie.”

They talked back and forth, over each other, for a few more moments before an older-looking man stepped behind Kris’s mother. Kris acknowledged him with a nod of his head and shook his hand briefly and firmly. I inferred it was his step-father. As much as he told me about his mother, he never really talked about his step-dad. And he never even mentioned his real dad, ever. It was going to be interesting to see the dynamics of his family, especially since my own was so fucked up.

His mother looked in my direction for just a split second, and that was enough to remind Kris that I was still there. It hadn’t bothered me, to be forgotten like that, because I knew how big of a deal it was for him to visit home and spend time with his mother. Plus, I had heard enough from his teammates—and I had heard the way Kris talked about his mother—to understand perfectly well that they’d have missed each other so much that they’d quickly try to catch up like this. Kris Letang was a momma’s boy who still got homesick from time to time, and Marlene Letang was a doting mother whose son was hardly ever home; I wouldn’t have expected less from either of them. Plus, I loved the smile that it put on Kris’s face, especially after he was moping over the game.

But I had definitely not expected the scrutiny and microscopic inspection from her as soon as Kris introduced us. In the fraction of a millisecond that she had allowed her attention to divert to me, Kris came back to earth and wrapped one of his strong arms around my shoulders as he introduced me to his family. As she stared me down, I saw the resemblance between the two of them. It was all in their faces, because she was probably a foot shorter than him with a reddish shade of hair.

It had been a long time since I had felt as self-conscious as I did at that moment, but there was something about the way Marlene turned her analytical eye on me that made me nervous. She was sizing me up, checking to see if I were good enough for her son. I can’t say I blamed her, because Kris was her baby boy, her only child. She had to make up for all the time that he had spent away from home, during juniors and now as an adult playing in the NHL. She wanted only the best for him.... I just hoped that I measured up.

“It’s so nice to be able to meet you, Mrs. Letang,” I said, trying to sound confident as I reached my hand out in her direction.

Kris had told me that she did speak some English; not a lot, of course, but she had picked up some once he had been drafted by any team other than the Canadiens. It was a relief when she finally moved, accepted my outstretched hand, and said it was nice to meet me, too. It didn’t mean I was in her good graces, but it counted for something, right?

We moved into the house, and I was immediately struck by how much this felt like a home. It was small and cramped, but it was a real home. The walls were a warm cream color, and the couch and chair were a deep maroon. The mantle was littered with pictures of Kris at all stages of his life: a baby, a toddler, in his first pair of skates, his first team, his first day of school, a picture of them together after he won gold at World Juniors, prom or some dance with his pretty blonde date, a birthday party, a picture of them together with the Stanley Cup.... Practically his whole life was chronicled on that shelf.

I felt a bit like an intruder, despite Kris’s subtle reassurance of his arm around my shoulders, but I only felt worse when Marlene began talking about making Kris’s favorite dinner. He had to tell her that we were going out, since it was Valentine’s Day, so we—he—wouldn’t be staying for dinner. Her face fell and I felt terrible; I started to tell him that we didn’t have to go out, but he said he had already made a reservation at Alpenhaus.

“Kris, I don’t want to disrupt your vacation or break. That’s not why I’m here. You only get so much time to visit home and see your mom during the season,” I whispered, not wanting to look like I was arguing with him—God, I already felt like she hated me. And if Mrs. Letang didn’t like me....

“It’s okay, though. We made these plans days ago. Maman, Jo’s only here for a few days, and then it’ll just be you and me.”

Honestly, Marlene looked heartbroken when she heard that. I felt like the worst person on the face of the planet; I had insisted Kris go home to Montreal to spend time with his mother, and now that he was here, he was going to be spending that time with me. I must’ve looked like a total bitch, and it started to eat away at me. I tried one more time. “Seriously, Kris—”

“It’s fine. Why don’t you go get ready?” he asked, but it was more like a suggestion. “I’ll show you the upstairs so you can shower and change. Une minute, Maman.”

I followed him quietly as he gave me the grand tour. He showed me where the bathroom was, and then his room. “So, you can have the choice of taking my room tonight, or the pull-out in the family room.”

“I can’t sleep with you?”

“No, I think it would be best if we slept in separate rooms. I don’t think my mom would like cohabitation, especially since we’ve only been together a few months.”

“And I don’t need to give her any additional reasons to hate me,” I sighed, glancing around at everything in his room, the trophies, awards, and medals from past tournaments and championships.

“She doesn’t hate you,” Kris said defensively. “Why do you think she hates you?”

I looked at him like he was a space alien. “She was so excited to see you, and now you’re leaving to hang out with me, when you get to see me all the time in Pittsburgh. And then tomorrow, we drive out to Shippagan, and won’t come back ’til Wednesday, so I’m taking away, like, four days of your time with her. How can she not hate me?”

“I think you’re exaggerating a tiny bit. Besides, it’s Valentine’s Day. She can go out to the movies with Henrí. Problem solved.” Pursing my lips, I stopped myself from arguing with him. I was still unsure about this, but arguing was pointless. Once he saw I was done fighting, he added with his lop-sided smirk, “Now go get sexy for me, because our reservation’s in an hour.”

I huffed into action and hurried to grab my things, shower, and get ready, unsure if that were enough time. Because of the game and the timing of the Olympic break, I hadn’t expected to do anything today for Valentine’s Day. Really, I wasn’t much of a Valentine’s Day celebrator, so I didn’t care about doing anything fancy anyway. But Kris had wanted to, so I went along with it and bought a new outfit to surprise him. I slipped into the loose-fitting, red silk dress, which stopped well above my knees. It was scoop-necked and sleeveless, with thick straps to hold it up. It was a little lightweight and skimpy for the cold weather, but it was too perfect to pass up. Keeping the make-up simple, I applied some mascara and then some red lipstick and then dried my hair.

“Jo! We’re going to be late!” he hollered up the stairs. He was a stickler to be on time for everything.

Stepping into my new black patent leather heels, I yelled, “Coming!” Then I did one more glance-over in the mirror, grabbed my black clutch, and carefully teetered down the stairs. Even though I had been out of my walking cast for a month by now, this was my first time in heels and I felt out of practice.

Now this is going to sound stupid, but sometimes, I forget just how sexy Kris is. He was one gorgeous hunk of a man, but he was more than that to me so I didn’t always pay attention to that side of him. With the type of connection we had, there was a strong, overwhelming mental attraction to him beyond the physical one. But seeing him in those charcoal gray, pin-striped dress pants, that black button-down shirt, and the thin, red tie hanging undone around his neck, which matched my dress almost perfectly, as he stood waiting for me in the living room reminded me of just how fucking hot he was. And his hair was down, kind of slicked back but not enough to stop some of it from falling down around his handsome face. It was, honestly and truly, a breath-taking sight.

I stood at the bottom of the stairs, just kind of staring at him for second, like this was the first time I had seen him in a very long while. Which was weird, because I had just seen him an hour ago, and I saw him in suits all the time. But this time, he was dressed this way for me and not because he had a game, and it was an incredible turn on.

We locked eyes and continued to stare at each other, unmoving, just sharing the moment like the world around us had paused just for us, so we could enjoy this simple point in time. Finally, I moved toward him, my heels clicking loudly on the hardwood floor. I reached out for the red strip of fabric draped down his chest and began to tie it, just like I would do before his games. Over and across, around the back and over again, up through the hole and through the loop. Tighten and straighten. “We match,” I said finally, giving him a smile. We couldn’t’ve done this better if we had planned it.

“Yeah,” he replied. I waited for him to continue and explain, but he didn’t. Then I waited for him to compliment me, but he didn’t do that either. I wasn’t used to making men speechless, but I found that I liked having this effect on Kris.

I laughed, pleased with his reaction. “We’re going to be late, remember?” He nodded. “So let’s go.”

“’Kay,” he said finally, jumping into action, grabbing my coat, and holding it out for me to slip into. I felt my cheeks heat up as I let him help me into jacket; I used to make fun of the guys that did this for ladies, because I always joked that the dumb bitches couldn’t put on their own jackets. But I really liked that he did this for me. Maybe it made me a hypocrite, but I loved the gesture—especially when I felt his hands on my shoulders as he leaned down to kiss my cheek and whispered, “You look really great tonight, by the way.”

“Thanks.” I threaded the buttons through their holes as I turned to look at him putting on his own coat. “You look quite dapper tonight, if I do say so myself.”

“Have fun,” Marlene told us, and it wasn’t until that moment that I realized we weren’t alone. Both Marlene and Henrí were standing by the door, getting ready for their own Valentine’s excursion. We thanked them and repeated the same sentiments to them as we passed by on our way out the door. Marlene hugged Kris and kissed his cheeks, Henrí nodded at Kris, and they both only just kind of looked at me as I followed Kris out to the car we were borrowing from his mother for our night out on the town.

I bit my lip and didn’t say anything. What other proof did I need that his mother didn’t like me? She had limited access to her son, and now I was taking him away from her. She must have thought I was a total hussy. Fuck. Kris chatted happily as he navigated the streets he knew so well. He was excited to be home, so I smiled and nodded with him even though I couldn’t fight the sick feeling in my stomach.

Luckily, though, it didn’t take long for me to get caught up in the moment and enjoy our dinner. The atmosphere at Alpenhaus was romantic, and it was definitely an aphrodisiac to watch Kris take control of the entire situation. He pointed me in the right direction and held my chair out for me, talked for me when the waiter asked me a question and I looked like a deer in headlights because I didn’t understand him, and even sexier was when he waved away the menus without even letting me look at one, already knowing what he was going to order for us. Usually, I don’t care for that kind of attitude, but this was a different side of him. He seemed more confident, like he was in his element.

I liked this take-charge Kris.

And of course, listening to him converse in French was something that would probably always get me a little hot under the collar. Especially since that one time he did it in bed. The memories made me shiver in want.

“Are you cold?” he asked, scooting his chair from its position opposite from me and sitting moving to my side. He lowered his voice, even though no one would probably understand him anyway. “You’re not wearing much.”

My mouth twitched into a smile. “Is that a complaint?”

Non,” he chuckled, leaning in closer to kiss my cheek. He whispered in my ear, “I like that dress.”

I took his hand in mine and squeezed. “I like that you like it. I hoped you would.”

Our food showed up a little later. Kris had ordered some type of coursed meal, with salad, cheese fondue, beef fondue, and later chocolate fondue for dessert. He looked like a kid in a candy store, he was so excited. Spearing a piece of bread, he dipped it the cheese and popped it in his mouth. “Ugh, so good,” he commented. I must have looked apprehensive or unsure, because he asked, “Have you ever had fondue?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Here,” he offered, dipping in a piece of ham and holding it out for me. Now he was feeding me; this night couldn’t possibly get any sexier. And that’s how our dinner went, feeding each other with the fingers of our free hands entwined under the table. Occasionally he’d whisper something to me in French, his mouth so close to my ear that his lips would brush against my skin. I was so turned on, and I was pretty sure that my hard nipples were poking through my dress. This wasn’t just the best Valentine’s Day ever—it was, hands down, the best date I had ever been on.

Max had texted us with the name of the club we were supposed to meet him at. I whined and begged Kris, “Let’s just skip going out. I’m not in the mood for hanging out and partying with Max.” It was my turn to lower my voice. “I’m in the mood to spend the night in with you.”

He chuckled. “No cohabitation, remember?”

“Who said anything about cohabitation? I’m talking about—”

Kris’s phone buzzed again in his pocket, interrupting me from telling him all the things I wanted to do to him tonight. He answered, and I could just tell it was Max, even though he was talking to him in French. When Max Talbot’s involved, you don’t really have the option to say “no.” You just kind of have to go along with it.

We headed to Club Krush, where Max was already enjoying the alcohol and the company of some frisky-looking females. I didn’t know if they were chicks that just so happened to be at the club when he showed up and he had taken a fancy to them, or if they were girls he had on speed dial for when he visited. He was always the center of attention, so neither would have surprised me. I could tell that he also had some male friends in attendance, too. He told me to help myself to all the bottles he had purchased. For a second, I couldn’t believe the extent he had gone to for just one night, but then I remembered who I was dealing with.

I didn’t drink though. I didn’t need to; I was already feeling pretty drunk from the good time I was having with Kris. Somehow, I had even managed to persuade him to dance with me. The last time we had gone out, he had been a wall flower. Maybe it was because I was sober that he was willing to be a little more outgoing. We started out in the middle of the floor but eventually found ourselves migrating toward the edge. I’m not a proponent of making out in dark corners of clubs, because that’s shady activity, but that’s what we ended up doing.

It started out with us dancing together face-to-face, but he seemed a little hesitant to get too close to me. So I grabbed his tie, turned and held it over my shoulder so he couldn’t move away, and backed up into him. I swiveled my hips and he began to move synchronously with me as we danced to the heavy beat. When his hands found my waist and I was sure he wasn’t going to put any distance between us, I let go of his tie and instead put my hand behind his neck. Then I turned my head, and he found my lips with his own.

By the end of the night, between dancing with Kris and laughing with Max, I was overheated and anxious to get home to some peace and quiet. It had been an incredible night, and I wasn’t ready for it to be over yet. As Kris drove us back to his parents’, I leaned across to his seat and twirled a finger around his hair. “If we can’t have sex in the house, how about in the backseat? Let’s find a dark, empty parking lot. Whadya say?”

“Wow, this coming from the girl who thought she had made a bad impression on my mother? I figured you’d want to be prim and proper to get on her good side.”

“If it’s that, or be with you, I’d rather be with you. I want you so bad,” I breathed.

He pulled into the driveway. We were already here? Ugh. Kris cast a regretful look at me, shrugging. Then he smiled devilishly. “Can you be quiet?”

I nodded frantically and hurried out of the car. Kris and I were giggling like giddy teenagers as we sneaked back into his mother’s house. He tried to quietly unlock the door with his left hand as his right hand clasped one of mine. In my free hand, I had my heels, so I wouldn’t make any noise stepping on the hardwood floors.

The lights were all off, so I knew Marlene and Henrí were sleeping in bed. Kris led me through the living room and into the tiny family room, where the pull-out couch had been converted into my temporary bed. He closed the door slowly, turning the knob gently so it wouldn’t make a sound as he pushed it shut.

As soon as we were safely tucked away in that back room, I was all over him. I grabbed for his belt and undid his pants. His hands slid around from my sides to my back, the silk fabric allowing his hands to glide over my body. “Have I told you how much I like this dress?”

“Yeah,” I told him, pushing his pants to the floor. He stepped out of them and I pointed to the bed. “Lie down.”

Kris loosened his tie but did as I bade. Once he was on his back, I grabbed the hem of my dress and pulled it upward slowly. I wanted to make sure he got a good look at my red g-string before I removed the dress and he saw that I hadn’t been wearing a bra. He groaned, letting me know that he was liking what he was seeing.

I moved toward the bed and crawled between his legs, my dress still in my hands. I draped it over his erection and then wrapped my hand around his dick and squeezed. Kris groaned again, prompting me to say, “I thought you said we needed to be quiet?”

Instead of saying anything, he bit down on his lip and thrust his hips in the air. The movement caused the sofa to rock forward and then hit back against the wall with a hollow thump. Sex was definitely out of the question in this house, but that didn’t mean we couldn’t have a bit of other fun. I ran my thumb over the tip of his penis, the smooth texture of the material permitting my hand to glide effortlessly in my actions.

“If you keep this up, I’m going to ruin your dress,” he huskily teased.

“We can’t have that, can we? I want to get a lot of use out of this.” I pulled the fabric away and quickly took him into my mouth. First he swept my hair away from my face, so he could watch as I went to work on him, bobbing my head up and down as I tasted every inch of his hard dick. Then he bucked again, his body moving instinctively in order to reach climax. The couch slammed against the wall louder this time, and Kris groaned because he was frustrated that he had to lie still.

I reached down and cupped his balls, giving them a little massage before I tickled that spot right behind his balls that Cosmo always talks about. His muscles tensed and he erupted in my mouth. Carefully, I swallowed, licking my way up to make sure I got it all.

“Guess I should repay the favor,” he whispered, grabbing my arms and rolling me over onto my back. The bed squeaked loudly as we repositioned ourselves. I was so hot for him that I knew it wouldn’t take much to get me off; this whole night had been a teaser up until this point. Kris pushed himself up onto his knees, and he grabbed the sides of my g-string and began to pull it down as we heard footsteps on the floor above us. “Shit.”

Kris leaped off the flimsy mattress and tugged his pants on quickly, and I found my dress and pulled it over my head. Luckily, I noticed it was backwards in time to turn it around and slip my arms under the straps before Marlene knocked softly and opened the door.

Hé, Maman,” he greeted quietly, doing his best to pretend that we weren’t doing what we had just been doing. All she had to do was give him this look, and he added, “I was just helping Jo get situated for bed.”

“Have fun?” she asked calmly. We both looked at each other and then nodded. “Good. Good night, Jo.”

“Good night, Mrs. Letang,” I replied, feeling like she knew exactly what was going on. I tried to be nice and a gracious guest, adding, “Thanks again for letting me stay here tonight.”

Marlene nodded at me and then looked at Kris. He walked over to join her by the door. “Um, good night, Jo,” he said almost timidly under his mother’s watch. “I’ll see you in the morning.” I smiled at him sadly, not wanting him to go just yet but knowing that he couldn’t stay down here if his mother knew he was with me. They started to walk out, and as Kris began to shut the door, he turned and mouthed to me, “Sorry.”

I collapsed on the bed, feeling horny and pissed off. I could’ve taken matters into my own hands, but it didn’t feel right. So I started to get ready for bed, positive now that Mrs. Letang definitely did not like me being with her son. How else could I explain her timing tonight? She waited until Kris was taken care of and had gotten off before she interrupted us, so I couldn’t.

It was going to be a long night.

11 comments:

  1. Mme Letang - V day wrecker. In 65 Jo should sneak upstairs.

    LOVED IT (apart from Mme Letang) and have you been to Alpenhaus? It's so yum!

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  2. oh wow. busted by Maman Letang. hahahaha.

    I loved the interruption. it was hilarious!

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  3. Lovvveee it

    I haven't commented in a while, but I have been reading. Keep it coming, seriously you get better and better every chapter:)

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  4. This is seriously my favorite update of the whole story! Please, please, please get another update soon! It was amazing! I don't know if I can wait two or three more days!

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  5. please update again tonight! I absolutely loved this

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  6. poor jo.
    i hope kris's mom doesn't try to kill her in her sleep... that would be disappointing........... hahaha..

    I love reading this story.... and i can't wait until you update...

    {so happy Pens signed Tangers to a 4 year contract.}

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  7. An amazing update and a perfect date.

    First up, I like the mood Jo is in, more like her confident self, ready for fun. I like all the details you put in, like the restaurant, which seems exactly like the kind of place Kris would choose, not totally sophisticated but delicious. Also, I'm willing to cut Mme. Letang some slack, she may turn out to be okay, but if she doesn't like Jo now, imagine how she would have liked Jo with dyed hair and a chip on her shoulder.

    My favourite part is the way that Kris is so inarticulate when he's really moved or attracted. That's kind of sweet and sexy.

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  8. My favorite chapter, amazing job!! I love that you didn't have mama letang completely love her at first sight. This is way more realistic. And I gotta agree with Jo that this was getting hotter and hotter! lol

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  9. poor Jo :( She can't win..

    My favorite part was at the end when Jo thought that Mrs. Letang interrupted after Kris had been.. taken care of lol

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  10. I am thinking there might be a lot of night left, and that once Mama Letang is truly asleep, all bets are off, lol!

    Fabulous, girl, as always!

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  11. Bahhhhh. I could try and list/quote all the reasons this was in my top five chapters but that would just be too long so here is the Coles notes version.

    I like that his mom doesn't like her because she is stealing away her baby, it says so much about Kris.

    Leaving his tie undone so she could do it up = MELT. Speechlessness and their own little moment = sigh. Ordering for her = BAHHHH you are making me seiously depressed you can't write men for my life. Pulling his tie over her shoulder to force him to grind on her = hotness. Mama Letang interrupting the action = hilarious.

    I can't even begin to tell you how wonderful this chapter was.

    Bravo, can't wait to see where this whole Mrs Letang storyline takes us, and I'm anxious to see them interact over Luc's birthday.

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