by Mia Madison
Slowly pushing away from the door, I sighed as I started walking up the stairs to my room. It was possible that I could get Adéle to fall in love with me through… other means, but that wasn’t what I wanted.
I wanted someone who would love me, wholly and completely, for eternity.
But not just someone. It had to be Adéle.
Eternity wouldn’t be worth living through without her.
Adele
I hadn’t been able to sleep since I’d left Pierre’s house. I felt feverish. I was clammy, nearly sweating just thinking about him.
Even walking through the door of my grandmother’s dark, incense-heavy shop—something that normally cheered me up and helped me feel centered—only made me more anxious knowing that I’d be spending the next few hours away from him while I worked the front counter.
“I’m here, Grand-maman,” I called, squinting toward the back room as my eyes adjusted to the darkened space. “Sorry I’m late.”
I cocked my head. I could hear her voice, but she wasn’t talking to me. Probably with a client. But it was the other voice that made me stop in my tracks.
“But I need this,” the voice hissed. It was the woman—Pierre’s assistant or… whatever. Angelique. “If you can’t help me, I don’t know who can.”
My eyes went wide as I strained to hear. Of all people it could’ve been, she was the last person I’d expected. And what was she so insistent on getting from my grandmother?
“An incantation por amor does not work that way, child.” My grandmother’s voice was firm and strict, even though she was clearly speaking to a grown woman. “It takes time to gather the necessary herbs and… other components… from the bayou. And I have to be certain that you know what to do with it, how to use it, what the effects—”
“Nevermind.” The woman’s sharp tone interrupted my grandmother’s explanation, and I felt my whole body tense up. I didn’t care what this woman was to Pierre, she damn sure wasn’t gonna come in here and speak to my family that way. “Forget it. I’ll figure it out on my own.”
Without another word, the lady stormed out of the room, heading straight for the front door of the shop. It was only after she’d almost passed completely by me that she even looked in my direction, her eyes going wide momentarily as a flash of recognition passed between us.
I couldn’t speak, and she didn’t speak, thank God, but the look in her eyes said enough. She was mad—at my grandmother, at me, at everything and everyone who might be standing in her way.
I felt myself involuntarily take a step backwards as she pinned me with that look, but then, just as quickly as she’d burst from the back room, she was gone—leaving the bell over the front door ringing wildly as it slammed shut behind her.
“My goodness,” my grandmother said, appearing next to me and shaking her head. “That was… unpleasant.”
I nodded. “Are you okay, Grand-maman? What did she want?”
“Nothing important, child.” Her eyes narrowed as she looked at me. “But you look like you’ve seen a ghost. You don’t know that woman, do you?”
I shook my head, then shrugged a little. “No… but… maybe? A little? She, um, works for a… friend of mine.”
The look on her face told me she wasn’t really buying it. “A friend? What kind of friend is mixed up with a woman like that? She could be trouble, Adéle. You need to be careful what kinds of friends you’re making.”
“I am being careful,” I said, trying not to feel defensive even though there was an insistence in my tone that I hadn’t anticipated. Was I being careful? Dressing up like a French maid and getting off in some stranger’s living room? Yeah, that didn’t sound like the definition of careful to me, and I knew my grandmother would feel the same way. Which is why I didn’t plan on telling her.
“Is this friend the reason why you and Jean-luc are no longer… friends?” She eyed me closely, and I knew that she was looking for any of the tell-tale signs that I might be lying. Fortunately, the question she’d asked me was an easy one to answer truthfully.
“No, definitely not. Jean-luc and I were finished before I even met this other guy.” And maybe I’d left out the fact that it had been just a few minutes before I’d met Pierre, but that was one of those details that would probably be best kept to myself.
“I see,” she said, nodding even though she didn’t sound like she was fully convinced. “Well… just promise me you’ll be careful, child. I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you, Adéle.”
“I promise,” I said, reaching out to hug her. “Nothing bad is gonna happen to me. Don’t worry, Grand-maman.”
She seemed to relax a little with my promise and my hug, and I hoped I’d sounded more confident than I actually felt.
And for both our sakes, I hoped I was right.
I need to see you.
The text appeared on my phone, and even though I didn’t know how he’d gotten my number, there was no doubt in my mind who the message had come from.
I called the number back, and couldn’t help but smile when I heard his voice, warm and deep and insistent.
Pierre.
“Come to me,” he said. “I need you.”
“I’m on my way,” I answered, locking up the shop for the night and glad for the fact that my grandmother had already gone home. “Is everything okay?”
“It will be, as soon as you get here.”
The line went dead, and I furrowed my brow. He had sounded okay… a little insistent, maybe, but that wasn’t really a new thing. A man like Pierre was probably just used to getting what he wanted.
And shockingly, what he still seemed to want was… me.
I hailed a cab and barely even noticed the blur of buildings and street lights that flew by on the ride to Pierre’s townhouse. He was the only thing on my mind as we raced through the New Orleans streets, and it wasn’t until I was standing in front of the big, old townhouse that I felt like I could even breathe.
There was only one window lit up, but it wasn’t the living room or parlor or whatever it was called. In fact, even though I’d already been to the house twice to “clean,” I still couldn’t identify which room the light was coming from. The dining room, maybe?
I’d barely had a chance to knock on the over-sized door before it swung open, and then I was in his arms, his long, strong, secure arms that never failed to make me feel safe when he wrapped them around me.
His lips found mine and he kissed me long and hard, like it had been days or weeks or months since he’d seen me, rather than just the night before.
He broke away for a moment, leaving me wanting more and nearly panting for it as he looked into my eyes and pulled me into the house.
“Are you hungry, my beautiful Adéle? I have plenty of food set out for us.”
“Um, sure, I guess?” I hadn’t planned on eating, but I hadn’t eaten for most of the day, and I had to admit that food sounded pretty nice—especially if it meant the chance to sit and talk with Pierre. My stomach rumbled in agreement as he led me through to the dining room—the room I’d seen lit through the window.
He pulled out a chair for me and waited until I’d sat down before moving to sit in the chair next to me. “Would you like some wine?”
Wine wasn’t normally my drink of choice, but I nodded anyway, my throat dry enough that it didn’t sound so bad.
“I’m afraid I only have white for you, my dear,” he said, reaching for a crystal decanter in the middle of the table.
“White’s fine,” I said, shrugging. “But it looks like there’s some red down there.” I nodded toward the other large decanter—half-full of wine that was so dark and rich looking it was nearly black. “And some in your glass…”
He gave me a funny look and frowned. “That’s not wine, beautiful. And I would share it if I could.” He poured me a glass of the sparkling white wine. “Here, please have this. It’s a good vintage. A year I remember well.”
“What year was tha
t?” I raised the glass to my lips, closing my eyes and inhaling the sweet floral scent before taking a sip. “You’re right. This is so good. Thank you.”
“It’s from France. My family used to have some land and a vineyard there.” He smiled. “I’m glad you like it. The fragrance reminds me of you—flowers and sunshine and everything good.”
He covered my hand with his and a little electric jolt went through my body, warming me right along with the wine as I felt that familiar blush rush to my cheeks—the same way it did anytime he looked at me, or spoke to me, or was even in the same room with me.
“You’re too nice,” I said, nibbling at my lip as I looked at him through my eyelashes and took another drink. “You make me feel… really nice. Really special.”
“Because you are special, Adéle. More than special. You’re perfect, and fate brought you to me.”
He leaned in and kissed me on the cheek, but I wanted—needed—more than that. I turned my face, catching his lips with my own as I set the glass down in front of me then put my hands to better use pulling him closer.
If he was surprised by my boldness, he hid it well, and after only the slightest hesitation he took over, kissing me deeply, hungrily as his tongue explored my mouth.
I moaned as his hand slipped under my shirt, the memory of his mouth on my breasts the day before already making me tremble. But as amazing as it had been, I intended to have more than that tonight.
Tonight I wanted him inside me.
“Pierre,” I gasped, breaking away long enough to speak, but not fighting when his lips moved down to my neck instead. “I want—I need… you. Now.”
“I know, my beautiful Adéle,” he murmured against my skin. “We have to be patient, though.”
I shook my head and stood up, using my hands to press him back against his chair. He had already turned it slightly to face me, and it gave me just enough room to move over him, to straddle his legs as he sat there watching, wide-eyed.
“Patience is not one of my virtues,” I said, shrugging out of my shirt as he watched me. The color was rising in his cheeks and he licked his lips. At least he wasn’t trying to stop me. “I want you, Pierre. Tonight.”
The sound that came from his throat was part-groan, part-growl, but it was enough to encourage me. This was going to happen. He was going to give me what I needed.
“But the food,” he said, gesturing to the table that I was practically sitting on. “I thought you were hungry.”
“I am,” I said, meaning it. “Food can wait, though. There’s something else—something much better—that I’m hungry for tonight.”
The fire in his eyes returned and he stood up, unbuttoning his shirt just inches away from me. “I only want to give you what you want,” he said, grinning. “But I want to see you undress for me. Slowly.”
He had already removed his shirt by the time he was finished talking, and now he was watching me, waiting.
I’d never felt someone’s eyes on me so intensely as I unfastened my bra and let it fall free, the cool air from the dining room immediately making my nipples even harder than they already were. I tried to move slowly and tried to be sexy as I unbuttoned my jeans and shimmied out of them, grateful that he was at least moving to take off the rest of his own clothes as he watched. But he never took his eyes off me, not even when his own pants and underwear pooled around his feet.
When we were finally naked and facing each other, he took a step back, letting his eyes roam over every inch of my body before meeting my gaze again.
“You are so beautiful,” he said, quietly—almost reverently. “Do you know that, Adéle? Do you have any idea how amazing you are?”
“I’m just a girl,” I said, feeling self-conscious as I tried not to stare at the massive hard-on that was so close to my pussy I could feel the heat coming from it. “And you’re, um, pretty amazing, too.”
He shook his head. “Not like you. Are you sure you want this? Are you ready?”
“So ready,” I said, nearly losing my breath as he pulled me closer and gave me another rough kiss.
His cock was pressed against me, and I reached down between us, eager to touch it, to have it inside me. He groaned into my mouth as I wrapped my hand around it and stroked his thick shaft.
I could’ve spent all night with him there, just like that, but both of us were too turned on for that. He was going to fuck me. Now.
“I need to be inside you,” he groaned, apparently feeling the same sense of urgency as I was. “My beautiful, beautiful—”
Whatever else he’d been about to say was lost in a deep moan as he pushed me back against the table and parted my folds with the head of his cock.
“Yes, Pierre,” I opened my legs wider and stood on my toes—anything to give him better access, to get him inside me. “Please.”
He slid it inside me, stretching me as he filled me, grabbing my hips as he pulled me onto him. “Yes, baby.” He made short little thrusts until he was all the way in. “I’ve got you. I just want you to be happy.”
And even though I couldn’t speak—could barely even think—I was definitely happy. More than happy.
I wrapped my legs around his back and put my hands behind me, bracing myself against the table as I let him take control.
“You’re so tight,” he growled, pulling all the way out and then shoving his cock back in with a force that shook the table and took my breath away.
“Harder,” I said, not even caring that he was already fucking me so hard it hurt. It was the kind of pain that only made the pleasure feel that much more intense, and I needed more of it.
His body was already glistening with sweat as he thrust in and out, harder and deeper, until the sounds of our bodies colliding and our breathless moaning filled the room.
The night before, when his mouth and hands had been all over my body, it was as if he’d been teasing me, prolonging my release for as long as he could. That wasn’t the case tonight, though.
I wanted to come, and I wanted him to come with me—and I wanted it now.
“You feel so good,” he panted, still thrusting hard into me, sending my body bouncing like a rag doll. “So tight. I don’t know… how much longer… I can last.”
“That’s right, babe,” I said—or tried to say. I’m not sure if the words ever left my throat. “I want you to come with me, please.”
“Yes,” he thrust again, grinding against me when he was balls-deep. “Fuck yes. I’m ready, baby. Let me feel you come, beautiful.”
I let myself go, shuddering as the orgasm that had been building inside me finally overtook me. I could feel it deep in my core, and then he was coming too, his whole body going tense as his cock erupted deep inside me, the warmth spreading as he filled me.
He collapsed against me, and if I hadn’t still been bracing myself against the table, we both probably would have crumpled to the floor.
“You’re so amazing, baby,” he whispered, his head nuzzling against my hair. “So… perfect.”
“You make me that way,” I said, meaning it.
And that’s exactly how I felt when I was around him—not just that I was perfect, but that everything was. Even though I hadn’t known him very long, I already couldn’t really remember what my life had been like before. It didn’t matter, anyway.
All that mattered was here, now, being with him like this. It was all I wanted, and all I could think about.
It was perfect.
Pierre
“She’s been here again.” Angelique looked annoyed as she walked into the study where I was sitting at my desk.
“Two nights ago, yes.” I said, looking up from the papers that were spread out in front of me. “Is that a problem?”
I didn’t want to be testy with Angelique, but I couldn’t help it. It had felt like an eternity since I’d seen Adéle, since I’d had her up against the table—since I’d almost lost complete control and turned her, with no regard to whether she was ready or not. Whether she w
anted it or not.
But I didn’t do that. I somehow held it together for long enough to see her out of the house, and told her I’d call her over the weekend. She needed to stay away for her own safety—at least until I made sure I had my emotions back under control—but now I was regretting the decision.
I wanted to see her again, even if I didn’t quite trust myself to touch her.
“You know I don’t care what you do, Pierre,” Angelique’s voice softened, and she crossed the room to stand in front of me. “I just don’t understand why you’re wasting your time with someone who doesn’t understand you like I do, someone who—”
“She does understand me,” I interrupted, furrowing my eyebrows and shoving the papers aside. “Just because she doesn’t know everything doesn’t mean she’s not… perfect.”
Angelique held her hands up in a mock surrender. “I meant no offense, of course. But I overheard her talking to some other girl about how much fun she’s been having lately. How it’s nice to have something that isn’t serious after her break-up.”
“You were watching her?” Anger flooded through me as I stood up from the desk, and Angelique flinched as I took a step toward her. I didn’t care if she was scared, though. I wasn’t going to hurt her—I wasn’t some kind of animal that went around hurting mortal women—but I didn’t mind if she knew I was pissed. “Spying on her? Why?”
“I wasn’t spying,” she said, defensively enough that she might have just been telling the truth. “I was just… her grandmother owns a shop. I was there. Your girl was there.” She shrugged. “And maybe I overheard a conversation, but I wasn’t spying, Pierre.”
I gave her a hard look, but eased myself back down into the chair, the urge to argue and yell fading. “So… what, then? You’d have me send her away? To never see her again? Does my happiness count for nothing?”
