Rough and Ready

by Cathleen Ross

  “I’ll be just behind you.”

  “Following me?” She pressed herself against him, feeling his erection. Oh man, she was turned on.

  “Watching you. The way you move. You’re stunning. It gets me off.”

  “You know New Orleans can be dangerous at night?”

  “You’ll be safe. I’m well armed.”

  She moved her hands up and cupped his cheeks. “Don’t you use me as bait to hurt anyone. You might get off on fighting, but I don’t. Promise me.”

  “You think I’m falling for you, sweetheart? Getting all territorial?”

  “Of course not.”

  “You really should give up lying.”

  “It’s not a lie. Do you think I want a life like Momma? I don’t go for wild, itinerant men.”

  “Sure you don’t.”

  Her heartbeat thumped in her chest. “The army women worked for you because there was no commitment. You made it clear, this is a fling. I get that. I’m enjoying this for what it is. I know it’s not going to last.” He is my road to hell. No way am I going there.

  Something tightened around his mouth, but he didn’t comment. He pulled on a smart black jacket even though the evening was steamy, and she suspected by the way it hung heavily in his hands that it contained weapons.

  “I think your civilized veneer is thin. You may have quit the army, but you’re still doing your job.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It isn’t that you think I’m beautiful,” Alice said shrewdly, determined to disarm him for a change. “You want to rescue me like you did in the bar when we met. The adrenaline gets you off.” She saw the shift in his expression the moment she said the words.

  He shrugged, and his face closed down. “I fought for a living; I didn’t rescue.”

  “There’s more to this. I know it.” Perhaps she was the one he could save?

  “I don’t want to be psychoanalyzed. Let’s play.” He leaned forward and kissed her, pulling her hard to him, and all thought went out of her mind. Finally he pulled away and said throatily, “And you’re wrong. I do think you’re beautiful.”

  Her heart leapt at his words. “Well. Here I go.” Testing the balance of her new heels, she walked, hips swaying, along the pavers toward the market.

  She didn’t get far when a man approached her. “Hey sexy.”

  Was he mistaking her for a hooker? She glanced around, catching sight of Hugo standing by the truck, his eyes narrowed, watching her. Please don’t go all Rambo on me and spoil this night. Slightly embarrassed and excited at the same time, she sidestepped the stranger and walked toward the artwork, pretending to observe it, unsure of how see-through her dress was in the late evening light.

  Someone wolf whistled. “Yeah, Momma.”

  “You’re as pretty as a peach,” said another man.

  She turned. There was a large crowd listening to the jazz band on the footpath opposite the art display, and several men were looking at her, appreciation in their eyes. A jolt of realization hit her. She was sexy. She’d been so shut down, so hurt, after her breakup that she’d lived in her nurse’s scrubs and dowdy T-shirts and pants at home.

  Enjoying her newfound confidence, she sauntered along, knowing Hugo was there somewhere behind her. The thought of his rock-hard body made her mouth dry. A haze of desire for him swept over her as if her body were blooming for his touch in the hot night air. Her nipples tightened until they were hard, rubbing against the silky dress.

  A rowdy college crowd, some in fancy dress, raced up the road, catcalling and whistling until she was caught up in it and she had no idea where Hugo was. Someone pinched her bottom.

  She ducked into the next stall to catch her breath. A psychic was selling tales to a gullible tourist. The tourist thanked the psychic and left.

  The woman motioned to Alice. “Cards or the crystal ball?” She spoke with a German accent and looked like someone’s grandmother. She was probably an old woman topping up her pension.

  “Sorry, I stepped into your stall to escape the crowd. Besides, I haven’t any money.”

  “That’s a shame. There’s a lot I could tell you. There are storm clouds surrounding you. You need to step carefully.”

  “You got that right,” Alice said.

  “Be on your guard. You trust too easily.”

  “Hah.” She rolled her eyes. “I don’t trust anybody.” If anyone knew how quickly life could unravel, it was she. This woman had no idea what she was talking about.

  “Heed my words, lovey.”

  “Lovey?” Anguish swept through her body. “My mother calls me that.”

  “She will recover,” the psychic said.

  Alice’s chin dropped.

  A man came up close behind her and leaned in too close. She knew it wasn’t Hugo because this man smelled of stale tobacco, leather, and the subtle sweet smell of crystal meth, which made her skin crawl. “You want to know your future? You’re going to fuck a biker.”

  She knew that voice and groaned inside when she turned. It was Mad Dog, her father’s VP. God, he disgusted her with his long unkempt beard and huge belly. Although she spent as little time as possible at her father’s club, she knew all the men and despised Mad Dog the most. Drugs. Drug pushing. She hated the whole shebang. “Are you following me?”

  It wouldn’t be the first time her father had put a watch on her. She already had Hugo. Wasn’t one bodyguard enough?

  “Alice.” His gaze swept over her, and his top lip turned up in a dirty sneer. “I bet your daddy doesn’t know you dress like that.”

  She put her hands on her hips. “What’s it to you? Are you following me?”

  Mad Dog gripped her wrist. “You always had a sassy tongue. You think you’re better than me?”

  “You having trouble here, Alice?” Hugo asked, joining her.

  His hand closed into a fist, and his expression became mean. “Nothing I can’t handle, Hugo. Mad Dog was just leaving.”

  The biker kept his grip on her wrist. “You just wait, you fucking bitch.”

  “Don’t you speak to me like that,” she said, snatching her hand away.

  It only took one lightning fast punch from Hugo to Mad Dog’s solar plexus, and he was down on his hands and knees, gasping.

  Hugo gripped his hair and yanked his face up. “Apologize.”

  Mad Dog heaved, vomiting up his stomach’s contents onto the pavers. Hugo released his hair, slipped a knife out of his boot, and when the biker had finished spewing out his guts, held the knife to his throat.

  “You go near this woman again, and I’ll slice you like the pig you are.”

  “Stop it, Hugo. It doesn’t matter,” she screamed, grabbing his wrist.

  “It matters.” He turned deadly eyes on her, eyes that barely seemed to see her.

  “Please don’t, Hugo. He’s high.”

  “No one disrespects you,” Hugo growled. “No one touches you. No one hurts you.”

  “Hugo, put the knife away before someone calls the police. This is supposed to be a date. You know how I feel about fighting.”

  He seemed to see her now. Calmly, slowly, he slipped the knife back into his boot.

  “Thank you.” Alice’s heart was in her throat.

  Hugo turned his attention back to Mad Dog. He gripped Mad Dog by the hair. “Get up. Apologize.”

  Mad Dog’s eyes were glazed, and Alice remembered her father complaining his VP snorted a percentage of what he sold these days. I am going to have words with Daddy about Mad Dog’s behavior. He would never have dared to behave like this once.

  “I’m sorry,” Mad Dog muttered.

  “Get out of here,” Hugo growled, releasing him.

  Mad Dog lumbered to his feet, clearly sizing up Hugo. They were about the same weight, though unfortunately Mad Dog’s was around his girth. His long beard was flecked with vomit. “You’ll regret this.”

  Hugo loomed over him, jaw clenched, a vein beating on his temple. “The only reason you’r
e still conscious is thanks to Alice. I’m itching to give you grief.”

  “Hugo, please stop.” Terror gripped her as the warrior in the man threatened to boil over.

  Mad Dog let out a vicious snarl and stumbled off, disappearing into the crowd.

  She exhaled a huge breath of relief.

  Hugo’s gaze followed him, his expression dark. “This happen often?”

  “It’s the hard drugs. The club’s a mess. Did you have to punch him?”

  “I pulled my punch,” he muttered.

  She gripped him by the lapels of his jacket. “You listen to me, Hugo Boudreaux. You don’t hurt anyone here for me. My father is poison. My name is poison. I don’t want you to spend time in jail on an assault charge because of me. You got that?”

  His hands closed over hers, but his hold was gentle. “I get it.”

  “Good. Thank you. That could have gotten nasty.”

  He looked at her wrist, rubbing the skin. “You’re going to have a bruise tomorrow.”

  “You can kiss it better for me,” she said, desperately grateful that she’d been able to rein him in.

  “I’ll do more than that. Come on. Let’s go have fun.” He wrapped his arm around her, drawing her to his huge body, and guided her across the footpath to a red door that had no sign. He hammered on it loudly. “Lemme in.”

  The door opened, and a young woman with strong bone structure wearing big gold hoops through her ears greeted them. On her head she wore an orange scarf, which contained her ebony hair, perhaps in homage to Marie Laveau, New Orlean’s historic Voodoo Queen, but that was where the similarity ended. Her face was painted white, her eyes ringed with black, depicting a skull. Symbols decorated her face, but Alice had no idea what they meant. She was scantily dressed in a bikini top and skirt that flowed from her hips. A yellow snake was draped around her shoulders, and its head rose as she and Hugo came close, its tongue flickering.

  Alice clutched Hugo’s hand. “What kind of snake is that?”

  “Relax, Alice. It’s a voodoo snake. It’ll do what it’s told.”

  She wanted to slap him, but he pulled her to him, and his lips grazed hers. “Don’t be frightened. You know I’ll look after you.”

  There was heat and promise in his kiss. A quiver of excitement replaced her apprehension.

  “Welcome to The Voodoo Club, Mr. Boudreaux. I am Malini, Voodoo Princess. It is my job to see that your every whim is satisfied while you are here.”

  He nodded, appearing at ease. “Thank you, Princess.”

  Alice glanced up at him. Had he been here before? Had he brought a woman here?

  A spike of jealousy hit her heart before she could tell herself not to be ridiculous. She knew the deal.

  The woman picked up a tray from the reception counter containing both clear and green shots and offered it to them. “If you please, Master.”

  He took two, offering one to Alice. She figured she had nothing to lose and drank one. It tasted of absinthe and burned all the way down to her stomach. She’d drunk liquor before at the club when she was younger and was used to it.

  He picked up two more, drank one, and offered her the other.

  She took it, thinking it would help her relax, and downed it in one go. The second had a kick, stronger than the first, especially as she’d drunk it fast. “What was that?” she asked the Voodoo Princess when she could speak.

  “The first is absinthe from France, the second is our own dirty bath of it, Mistress,” the Voodoo Princess replied.

  “Homemade absinthe. No wonder it packs a punch,” she said, knowing full well that the drink had been once banned for its hallucinogenic properties.

  “May the light shine on your path and lead you through darkness,” the voodoo princess said mysteriously.

  A shiver of apprehension shot up her spine. Was this a warning, or did the voodoo princess say this to everyone?

  Hugo swept her forward before she could clarify, his grip possessive, into a large exotic room lit with hundreds of candles.

  In the center of the room people sat eating and drinking, but that wasn’t what interested her. Skulls and wooden carvings hung from the walls. She walked past the tables and chairs in the center to look at the artifacts. “Are those phalluses on the carvings?”

  He took her hand and pressed it to his trousers. “The only phallus you need to concern yourself with is mine.”

  Just the thought of him made her wet. Getting used to his cock was easy, getting him out of her mind when he left would be difficult. In the quiet moments at work she’d thought about him, the way he liked to dominate and the size of his cock.

  Her nipples tightened, forming peaks, and she was glad for the semi-darkness.

  The main source of light came from the bar on the front wall near the entrance. It was lit up with bottles full of every drink she could name and plenty more she couldn’t. A voodoo waitress, dressed in an animal print bikini and sheer skirt, the outfit accentuating her taut abdomen, left the bar and sauntered toward them.

  “Name your desire, Master,” the waitress said. Her eyes, rimmed with kohl, were large and luminous in the semi-darkness. Her ebony skin seemed to glow, and Alice wondered if it was the absinthe on an empty stomach affecting her mind.

  “I’ve booked a booth,” Hugo said. “I want complete privacy.”

  Holy hell. This is going to be a different dinner date. Talk about a walk on the wild side. Hugo style.

  “Certainly, Master.”

  She led them to a red velvet lounge the size of a day bed. It had tasseled curtains along the front, which could be drawn for privacy. Other booths surrounded the back wall, though some had their curtains drawn; nevertheless, moans emanated over the throbbing tribal music.

  “I’ve heard of this place. Only in whispers. How did you manage to book? I thought it was difficult to get into.” Excited, Alice sat on the corner of the daybed. Looking down, she noticed a golden bowl filled with condoms an arm’s reach away.

  He stood in front of her, bent down, picked up her foot, and slid off one of her shoes, followed by the other. He drew his thumb down the center of her foot so that her toe curled and her pussy clenched. “You can have anything you want in New Orleans if you’re prepared to pay.”

  She gripped his hips, staring up at him. “You do my head in. I can’t stop thinking about you.” She rubbed her hand over his cock, wanting to free it from his pants.

  He took her hand and kissed it. “All in good time. I’m going to organize drinks first.”

  The waitress handed them a drink list, but he rattled off what he wanted without looking at it, as if he’d memorized the menu beforehand.

  When the waitress was gone, Alice flopped back onto the daybed and looked up at the ceiling, locking her thighs together in need.

  Her gaze settled on the large voodoo doll, complete with pins, attached to the ceiling. Her head started to spin, and the room had a dark magical feel as the pulsing drumbeats thrummed through her body. Tonight he’d fuck her hard like he’d promised, and she looked forward to peeling off a layer of the civilized Hugo to see who he really was. “You didn’t even ask me what I wanted to drink,” she said.

  He lunged at her, grabbing her under the arms, and shoved her up into the center of the daybed. He climbed on top of her, keeping his weight on his hands and knees.

  Shock and desire raced through her veins. His rough hand knotted in her hair and pulled her head to the side, exposing her throat to his lips. His mouth skimmed up her carotid until his lips grazed her ear. “You don’t get a say. You’re going to do everything I want. Refusing will result in punishment.”

  She placed her palms on either side of his face, realizing it was game on. Rough sex. This new, hard stranger dominating her was a heart-racing sight. His eyes had narrowed into glinting slits, and his mouth had thinned to a mean line. Yet his cock was thick through his trousers, and she wanted it like never before.

  “Do you understand?”

  “Ye
s.”

  He raked his teeth over her lips, and she tensed. Would he bite her? She wanted him to, needing the pain of possession. He kissed her hard, delving deep with his tongue. It wouldn’t be long before he was fucking her like an animal.

  It was thrilling and terrifying and sexy as hell.

  Lost, she wrapped her arms around him and ground upward with her hips, rubbing herself against his hard cock. Her dress was so fine, she could orgasm on his pant-clothed cock, even though she was out in public. She didn’t know if it was the shots drunk on an empty stomach or if she had misplaced her mind.

  A slight movement to the side caught her attention as the waitress placed a drinks tray on the daybed, her face expressionless. Was having sex an everyday occurrence in this place? The waitress pulled the curtains and left.

  Alice’s gaze floated back to the voodoo doll on the ceiling as Hugo pulled her dress down to suck on her breasts. There were people drinking at the bar not far from their booth, but she was too far gone on lust and alcohol to care.

  He parted her legs with his knee. “I’m going to fuck you hard.”

  “And I’m going to fight you.”

  “Really? All five feet five of you?”

  “Asshole.” She slapped his face, enjoying the disbelief crossing his features at her boldness.

  “You’re going to pay for that.” He gripped her hair with one hand and used the other to shove her dress up to her hips, leaving her bare for his gaze. “I’m going to open the curtains.”

  “No!” The humiliation. Her heart thumped in her throat.

  “I said I would punish you. Imagine what all the men out there would make of your pretty pussy.”

  “Hugo. No!”

  “Imagine if I made them line up and lick you. Anything goes here.”

  “Please don’t.” Her whole body tensed, forgetting this was a game.

  “Beg me not to.” He watched her, a cruel smile on his mouth, and she knew he had won.

  “I beg you not to let anyone see me.”

  “Say you’re just here for me.”

  “Just you. No one else.”

  He growled with pleasure, unzipped himself, and positioned his cock at her apex, rubbing it over her entrance and up to her clit.