City of Lights by Keira Andrews

 
    It was late by the time Luke and Jesse made it back to their hotel. After showering off the red clay streaked across his body from his victory tumble onto the court, Jesse had done hours of interviews with the world media. Then, of course, it had been time for dinner with family and friends at one of the finest restaurants Paris had to offer.
    Luke was more than ready to have Jesse all to himself again, and he tried not to let his impatience show as Jesse’s parents said an extended goodbye in the hotel lobby. Luke’s mother had already gone up to her room with her boyfriend, Harry.
    Harry was an accountant who made model airplanes in his spare time and always smelled vaguely of glue. Luke teased him mother about finding the most boring man in America to fall in love with, but he was glad to see her so happy.
    Once Jesse’s parents were safely on the elevator, Jesse turned towards the other wing of the hotel, his arm wrapping around Luke’s waist. “You up for some more celebrating?” Jesse whispered, giving Luke an exaggerated wink.
    Luke’s cock twitched just thinking about it. With Jesse focusing on the tournament the past two weeks, the only sex they’d had, a few days before, had been rather rushed. “Oh, I’m up for it.” Luke stopped and steered Jesse towards the front doors of the hotel. “But not here.”
    “What, you’re going through an exhibitionist phase? That’ll make for some great headlines tomorrow.”
    Even though they’d been out for four years and most people were accepting -- especially the people who mattered -- they still had to be careful. “No, we’re going to our room.”
    “Uh, that would be upstairs.”
    “That was our old room.” Luke smiled in what he hoped was an enigmatic way. “We’re staying somewhere else tonight.”
    Jesse grinned delightedly, and Luke’s heart skipped a beat. Jesse was twenty-seven now, but still hadn’t lost his boyish enthusiasm. Luke was thirty-eight -- pushing forty, as his trainer Aaron liked to remind him when they got together for their weekly session -- but Jesse kept him feeling young.
    A car was waiting for them, and they wound their way through the streets of Paris, the old buildings rushing by as the Lexus made its way along the narrow streets. When they arrived at their destination, Jesse’s smile grew even wider. “The George V? You got a room here? Seriously?”
    Luke simply winked in return and tipped their driver before getting out. The doorman ushered them inside the beautifully appointed lobby, and a woman appeared as if out of thing air. “ Bon soir , gentlemen. Jean-Paul will show you to your suite.” A man had also materialized, and he led them to the elevator.
    Once upstairs on the top floor, Luke tipped Jean-Paul and shut the door to the suite. Jesse turned in a slow circle, gawking. “And I thought the Hilton was nice. Holy shit, Luke. This room must cost a small fortune!”
    “Good thing you just won the French Open.”
    At the reminder of that afternoon’s victory, Jesse beamed. “Yeah, good thing. It’s also a good thing you got that job with ESPN.”
    Luke rolled his eyes. “Please, I do sixty-second how- to’s on improving your strokes. It’s not like I’m a commentator.”
    “Not yet . But you will be.” Jesse noticed the private terrace and opened the doors wide. “Oh my god! Have you seen this view?”
    Luke had inspected the room a few days earlier, and the incredible view of the
Eiffel
Tower
had sold him on it. The bathroom overlooked the city skyline as well, and the accommodations were luxurious in every way. Overstuffed cream-colored chairs and pillows with gilded accents made the rooms resplendent.
    Standing behind Jesse on the terrace, Luke wrapped his arms around Jesse’s waist. “Not bad, huh?”
    Jesse sighed contentedly. “Not bad.” He turned in Luke’s arms and pressed their lips together. “What’s the bedroom look like?”
    They made quick work of their clothes as they