by Cora Kenborn
Picking up my phone, I tossed it around in my hand before hitting the speed dial number I knew I’d end up calling. I swore Adelaide Dubois had some type of pussy voodoo hold over me I couldn’t explain.
“Zep?” She sounded sleepy as she answered the phone.
“Were you already in bed?” Glancing at my watch, I frowned seeing it was only nine o’clock. “It’s a little early, isn’t it?”
“I’m tired. It’s been a long weekend.”
“Yeah, it has.” I couldn’t help but grin as images of her from earlier that morning flooded my memory. In bed. In the shower. In the kitchen before breakfast with bacon plastered all over her ass. We couldn’t get enough.
“Zep, please…” She let out a half laugh and half groan that had me pulling at my hair and flopping my head against the back of the seat.
“Please, what? Please, come over? All right.”
Pathetic? Yeah, I’ll admit it. But, I’m horny.
I couldn’t help it. Thinking of her half-naked and sprawled out on her bed made me a goner. All Addie had to do was look at me with those damn honey brown eyes, and I was ready to do unspeakable things to her. Just remembering the way she’d screamed my name as she clawed my back had me reaching for the pressure straining against my zipper.
“No,” she said quietly. “I need some space.”
“For fucking what? You’re not shutting me down again, Addie.”
She let out a little sigh. “I promise I’m not. I just need some time…to process all of this.”
“You didn’t seem to need any time to process riding me this morning.”
Dick maneuver. Yeah, whatever. There’s something to be said for shock value.
“Don’t do this to me,” Addie whispered.
“Don’t do this to me,” I countered, hitting the dashboard with my fist. “Addie, you promised no turning back. You’re turning back. You’re getting spooked, and I deserve to know what happened between you sucking my cock and you freezing me out.”
“That’s crude.”
“Just answer the question.” I refused to give her an inch. I knew if I did, she’d take ten-feet.
Her voice softened. “I’m not freezing you out, but if you want me, Zep, you’ve got to want and understand all parts of me. Those parts include the ‘me’ who worries about what people think. I’m still married. You know that, right?”
“Yes.” My jaw clenched at the mention of Roland Bordeaux III. I wanted that motherfucker out of her life more than I wanted him at the end of my fist, and that was saying something.
“Then don’t push me and let me breathe. We spent all weekend together. Isn’t that enough?”
“No.”
“Jesus,” she groaned, letting out an exasperated sigh. “I’m doing the best I can. What do you want from me?”
“Everything.” It was an honest answer.
“I’m trying.”
My stomach knotted at the fatigue in her voice. She was way too stressed out and worked more hours at DuBlanc than any of us put together. Something had to give.
The douchebag’s call from two weeks ago ran through my mind. “Have you signed the papers Roland wanted?”
“Yes.”
“Did you send them?”
A hesitation strained her voice. “Not yet.”
I had no idea what that hesitation meant, but if she’d signed the divorce papers to give him back the rights to his precious Bordeaux name, I’d won half the battle. I had no problem mailing it in for her. “Bring them to work in the morning, and I’ll take them to the post office myself.”
“Does this mean you’re okay with staying at home tonight?” The hope in her voice tore at my resolve, and I rolled my neck, knowing I’d give in to her.
This time.
“No. But I’m not going to fight you over it.”
“Thank you,” she said, seeming to relax a little.
After a few moments of silence, the words came out before I knew I’d said them. “What are you wearing?” I had no idea what had come over me, but hearing her voice stirred a need I thought had been satisfied.
The cheerfulness that had just filled the line dropped in a heartbeat. “Are we really doing this?”
“What? You’ve never had phone sex?”
“No!” she yelled as if I’d just asked if she’d ever killed a man just to watch him die. “What? You have?”
“You don’t want me to answer that.”
Quiet for a moment, she quickly mumbled, “I’m wearing your Saints t-shirt. Aren’t you driving?”
The thought of her in my too large for her, purple Saints shirt had my dick standing at full attention. “I’ll pull over.”
“No!”
“Come on, Addie.” I’d pushed her farther in bed than that repressed fuck she was married to ever had, but I’d be a liar if I said it didn’t get me hot to be the one to teach her.
“Terrebonne is a small town. Do you really want to get caught with your pants down on the side of the road?”
She had a point. But I’d be damned if I’d let her go to bed without me being the last thing on her mind. “Fine. But you’re home alone, so, you’re fair game. Besides, if I know you, you’re already wet.” I groaned at the thought.
She shuddered heavy sigh, and I knew I had her. “I can’t.”
“Tell me how wet you are, Addie. I want to know.” The thought of my prim and proper Addie coming undone on my command was just too tempting to pass up.
“I’m wet.”
Wait. That’s it? Where’s the dirt and filth?
“Okay, yeah, I already said that. You need to embellish a little more, baby.”
“Um, Zep, I can’t do this.”
I winced at the roughness in her tone. “Yes, you can. Just close your eyes and pretend I’m there.”
“Okay, I’m super wet?”
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
“Addie, if I were there, what would you want me to do to you?”
“I’d want you to touch me,” she admitted.
Now we’re getting somewhere.
“Where?”
She giggled. “You know.”
Fuck me.
You could lead a horse to water, but you couldn’t make it get off. I could see it was be up to me to take the lead on this one.
I banged my head against the steering wheel in frustration and took a more direct approach. “Take off your shirt.”
“I don’t think—”
“Take it off,” I commanded more forcefully.” We were doing this whether she liked it or not.
A moment or two of silence passed. “Fine, but you don’t have to yell.”
I fought the smile that forced its way across my lips. Addie was getting pissed. “Pissed Addie” equaled “Passionate Addie”. The line blurred and both came out swinging, attacking me with fists and thighs of steel.
“If I were there, I’d strip you naked and tie your hands to the bed with my shirt. After I knew you couldn’t go anywhere, I’d lick down your body then test you with my fingers to make sure you were ready. First one, then two. Do you feel me?”
Her breathing picked up as a small moan gurgled in her throat. “Mmmhmmm.”
Gotcha.
“Where do you want me to touch you next, Addie?”
I could hear her panting, and a throbbing began in my pants as I imagined her fingers exploring. “Here.”
Not good enough. “With what?”
“Your tongue.”
A growl slipped out, and I passed my palm over my zipper, praying for some relief from the intense pressure. She was right. I couldn’t pull over and jerk off like I wanted to. That was just asking for an indecent exposure ticket, which would earn me a slap from my ma if she found out. But goddamn, if I got any harder, I’d poke my own eye out.
“I’m there, Addie. God, you taste incredible.”
Focusing on the road and having phone sex with your girlfriend was like trying to wrestle an alligator and play a gam
e of chess at the same time. The shit didn’t work. A man had to pick one thing or the other. Both activities required intense concentration and trying to accomplish both wound end in a massive ten car pile-up.
Which, at this point, I’d be willing to risk.
The minute Addie moaned my name, two things happened. My hand dove for my dick again, and she let out a scream. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the kind of scream that let me know I’d completed my mission. No, this was a horrified scream followed by a thud and a groan of pain.
“Addie? What the fuck?”
Addie’s shrill voice tore through the phone so loud I had to pull it away from my ear or risk permanent deafness. “Get out! What the hell are you doing in here?”
Initial fury ripped through my veins, and I pressed harder on the gas.
Who the hell is in her room?
“Ads?” Savannah sing-songed in the background. “Who’s on the phone? And where are all your clothes? Are we invoking naked Sundays now because I gotta tell ya, I don’t know if I’m down with free pussing on the holy day.”
From the crashing sounds coming through the phone, Addie was throwing everything within her reach across the room. “Don’t you fucking knock?”
“Who’s on the phone?” Savannah laughed, repeating herself.
“Oh, God,” Addie wailed. “I’m going to die right here.”
“Hi, Zep,” Savannah called out with a smirk in her voice. “You two kids having fun?”
Addie came back on the line, the earlier heat in her voice replaced by the curt and business-like Addie I’d come to dread. “I have to go. I’ll talk to you tomorrow at the office.”
Hard-on completely deflated, I nodded to an empty truck. “Yeah, sure. Don’t forget the papers.”
“Drive safe.”
As she prepared to hang up, I stopped her. “Hey, Addie?”
“Yeah?”
“I—” Silence raged between us. “I miss you,” I said instead.
Her voice softened. “Same.”
We hung up, and I threw the phone in the passenger’s seat while pounding my palm against the steering wheel.
I almost said it.
I wasn’t sure why I stopped myself. Maybe because I wasn’t ready. Maybe because it took away the last bit of power I had left. Or maybe simply because I knew she wouldn’t say it back.
“I’ve known Adelaide Dubois since she was a little girl. She’s smart—sometimes so smart she’s too stupid to see what was right in front of her.”
I just wondered how long Addie would be stupid as to what was in front of her? I was a patient man when it came to her, but even a patient man had limits.
My phone rang as I approached my exit, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t hope it was Addie calling to tell me she’d changed her mind about me coming over. Disappointment settled deep in my chest when I saw the caller ID.
Sighing, I hit the answer button and pressed my foot harder on the gas. “Yeah?”
“LeBlanc!” Cole yelled through the line. “Get your ass over to The Tequila House on Bourbon. The guys are meeting me for some drinks, and we haven’t seen you in two weeks, man. What gives?”
Cole Jefferies and I had grown up together, and when I’d run into him in New Orleans, our friendship had progressed into adulthood. We’d played football together, dated the same girls, hung with the same crowd, got in the same trouble, and eventually, made the decision to get out of the same town. How we ended up friends was beyond me. He was a pretty boy model type, and usually, I went out of my way to beat the shit out of guys like him. However, sophomore year, we’d fought over a girl who wasn’t worth it and ended up liking each other more than her.
Cole had always been the better athlete and somehow managed a full ride to college, ending up with one of those white-collar jobs as an investment banker. That wasn’t my scene, but he seemed thrive in it. Money went a long way in erasing any residual guilt he had in breaking the vow we’d made to never work for a big corporation sucking some manager’s dick for a sports car.
Whatever. Life went on, and people changed. I mean for Christ’s sake, I swore I’d never ruin Addie’s life, and here I was in the thick of it. Who the hell was I to judge anyone?
“I’ve been busy.”
“Sure, you have,” he laughed approvingly. “How many this week, bro?”
“Nah, it’s not like that.”
“Whatever, LeBlanc. You know you can’t keep your bitches straight. I don’t know what you have, but you need to share the wealth, man. Some of us are in a dry spell.”
“I’m going home, Cole. I’ve got a casserole that needs to go in the fridge.”
“Are you gonna put your vagina next to it? Fuck, man, where’s the LeBlanc I know? Tuck your pussy back in and meet us. You’ve been blowing us off for weeks.”
Half of me wanted to tell him to go to hell, while the other half was tired of following Addie around like a puppy, hoping for a pat on the head when she felt it was appropriate. I needed to blow off some steam.
My anger made the decision for me, and I jerked the wheel to the right. “I’ll see you in thirty minutes.”
33
The Demise of Addie-Light
Zephirin
New Orleans, Louisiana
The Tequila Bar wasn’t anything to speak of as far as space, but they had the best three-dollar tacos this side of Texas. However, since I’d just come from dinner with Ma, all I wanted were a few shots of tequila and some company. The minute I slid into the barstool, Cole grinned over his shoulder and slapped me on the back.
“It’s been thirty-five minutes, asshole.”
I shrugged. “Parking took a while.”
“Why didn’t you just go home and then take a cab like the rest of us?”
“Some of us have work tomorrow.”
Cole threw his hands in the air in protest. “Hey, I do too, man. I plan on finding a piece of ass to screw me and then take me home later.”
I raised an eyebrow. “On a Sunday night?”
“Is there some law against no ass on Sunday?”
Our other friend reached over, slapped me on the shoulder by way of a greeting, and then punched him. “Dude, even God rested on the seventh day. Can’t you keep it in your pants for one night?”
Cole laughed out loud and then winked at me. “I’d consider that a disservice to all the horny women of NOLA.”
After ordering a couple of shots of tequila, I settled in and caught up with what Cole and the guys had been up to while I’d been obsessing over Addie. We talked jobs, sports, and meaningless bullshit, and I started to loosen up and remember I had a life before the Dubois sisters blew back into town.
Then Cole dropped the bomb.
Slamming his glass down, he raked his hand through his wavy blond hair, his green eyes swimming in booze. “Hey, I heard from some friends back home that Adelaide Dubois and her sister are back in town.”
My spine straightened at the mention of her name. “Oh, really?”
“Don’t play dumb, man. They said they inherited part of that fishing business you run for your grandpa, and they’ve moved it to New Orleans.” Signaling to our bartender for another shot, he licked his lips and grunted. “Man, Addie was one hot piece of stuck-up ass back in high school. Didn’t you tap that once, Z?”
Fire boiled in my stomach, and I fought the urge not to punch his face. Staring straight ahead, I rolled the empty shot glass in my hand. “Nah. Addie Dubois was too good for me.”
“Bullshit! You told us how good of a lay she was. I remember.”
This was exactly why I lost her in the first place. Stupid locker room talk made its way back to her and drove her out Terrebonne and out of my life. Instead of keeping my mouth shut, I’d self-destructed like always, sabotaging the best thing that had ever been mine. Fuck if Cole Jefferies’ big mouth would steal her from me again.
“You remember wrong.”
He stared at me a minute before slamming his next shot. “The
n you won’t mind if I look her up. I hear she’s getting a divorce from that plantation prick in Shreveport.”
I promised Addie I’d keep our relationship just between us for now, but Cole pushed all my buttons. She was mine and listening to him talk about her like she was a blue plate special was something I just couldn’t handle.
She’d forgive me.
Right?
“Actually, I think you should know that—”
“Shots on the house!” Michael our bartender lined up small glasses in front of all of us and started to pour from a bottle I knew wasn’t one of the house tequilas. “Don Julio aged five years.”
“Michael,” I protested and pulled out my wallet, knowing he could get fired for tossing out free liquor. “What the hell are you doing?”
He shook his head. “On the house,” he repeated. Glancing at Cole, he nodded toward the glass. “Drink up, or I’ll take it back.”
Shrugging, Cole grabbed the shot and downed it. He turned to clink glasses with our friends just as Michael pointed out two girls at the end of the bar he’d just given the same shot to as well. I watched as he introduced them, sparking a conversation that diverted Cole’s attention.
I took a small sip of the shot and held the glass toward him. “What was that all about?”
Wiping down the counter, Michael returned the bottle to the shelf and played dumb. “It’s my job to hook people up. Don’t deny me my one joy in life.”
“Bullshit,” I called out, finishing the shot, the burn coating my throat like sandpaper. “I know you. You never give out free liquor. What gives?”
Tossing the rag aside, Michael grinned and shook his head. “I had dinner with my sister at Dixie’s the other night. You two were there.”
My jaw tightened. We’d grabbed a bite to eat after work. Addie was careful to keep all touching to a minimum so as to not raise a question. “People eat, Michael.”
“I’m a bartender, Z,” he said, jutting out his chin in defiance. “I read people for a living. I saw the way you two looked at each other. I know love when I see it.”
I snorted as I flipped a coaster. “We’re not in love.”
“Does your dick know that?”
