Undo Me (Bone Daddy Book 3)

by R. G. Alexander

  “Are you by any chance wanting another spanking?” His voice sounded sated and husky.

  “I can’t help it—I think its endorphins. You know I read about some very interesting reactions to the release of neuro-hormo—”

  He covered her lips with his fingers and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “You are an adorable and sexy genius. But if you giggle anymore you won’t get a chance to catch your breath and enjoy those endorphins of yours before I have to have you again.”

  She giggled.

  He sighed dramatically against her temple. “Work. Work. Work.”

  He sat up and slid off the bed, giving her a wonderful view of his rear end before turning to gather her in his arms.

  “Where are we going now?”

  “To the shower. Grab one of those condoms for me, love. There’s a good girl.”

  When he set her down, she stood silently, watching as he moved about the bathroom. He removed his used condom, turned on the water, and pulled the shower curtain closed so water wouldn’t spray out onto the floor. All while she was studying every finely sculpted inch of his body. Flawless, but for that one jagged scar on his side. It looked like it must have hurt a hell of a lot.

  “How old are you?”

  “Rude.”

  “Only for women.” She was dying of curiosity. “Come on, tell me. It’s not against Loa law, is it? You look twenty-three, which is disturbing because I’ve never been into younger men before. But according to the mambo, you’ve been around for a hundred years at least.”

  He tilted his head without turning to face her. “I remember the first and second World Wars. We’re all called upon more often during times of upheaval in the world.”

  She gasped. “And you remember it? How fascinating.”

  “Frustrating,” he corrected. “No one called me to fight or protect a family member overseas, Blue Eyes. I had one purpose, and it wasn’t witnessing history.”

  She sucked on her lip thoughtfully. For the first time, he sounded resentful. Had he wanted to fight? Or do something more than offer pleasure?

  “What about before that? I mean, how far back does your memory go? Loas are immortal aren’t they?”

  He stripped her, leading her into the shower where he began to methodically soap her body. “There are several types, so I’m led to believe. The main families were human once, or close enough. They walked the earth the way they do tonight. I was never very good at my lessons,” he said apologetically, almost absently as he washed her breasts.

  She blew out a shivery breath. “Are you different from them?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Bethany frowned. “You don’t know? How can you not know?”

  He shrugged. “I have very little memory of how I came to be. Only that I am. I come when I’m called, and I help those in need of my particular talents.”

  “Your sex talents.”

  His hands left her and landed on his hips, his patience obviously at an end. “Yes, my sex talents. But without good sex, there would be no romantic weddings or the babies that come after. Without good sex, women would be miserable and men more barbaric than they are.”

  She placed her hands on his wet chest, caressing him with soothing motions. “I’m sorry. And I’m not against sex, in case you hadn’t noticed. I’m just curious about you. I want—I need to know you.”

  He leaned his forehead against hers. “He said I needed to be wary of human emotions today.”

  “He?”

  “A mentor and friend. He’s the Loa who met me at the crossroads when I first arrived. Who told me what would be expected of me. And no, I honestly don’t recall when that was or why it happened. Only that he was there for me.”

  The crossroads. Why did that sound so familiar?

  Before she could open her mouth to ask another question, he was kissing her into submission beneath the hot spray of water. She melted against him, unable and unwilling to resist.

  “No more questions now, Bethany. They’ll come looking for you soon, come to take you away from me. And I need you again.”

  Tears attempted to form at his words, because he had it backwards. He was going to be taken away from her. She was the one running out of time. She pressed her bare breasts against his chest, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck.

  He lowered his head to kiss her throat, her shoulder, anywhere he could reach. “I am addicted to you, love. The feel of you against me, your taste. I can’t seem to get enough.”

  He needed her.

  “Speaking of tasting.” She let go of his neck and slid down his body, her breasts caressing his smooth torso as she dropped to her knees. “I think it’s my turn.”

  His broad shoulders blocked the water’s spray and he looked down at her upturned face in surprise. “You don’t have to.”

  “It is my turn.” She leaned closer, breathing in the scent of him. He smelled amazing. Soap and sin and pure, animal male. “It’s also my first time, so let me know if I do anything wrong.”

  She’d never wanted to do this before. Never had any desire. But as she stared at his long, thick shaft, the head dark and flushed with passion, her mouth watered.

  “You’ve decided to torture me? Telling me I’m your first then waiting for me to beg?” His gruff voice brought her gaze back up to his. His hands slid into her hair, thumbs caressing her temples.

  “I’m just admiring the view.”

  He grunted. “Admire it from a little closer, love. I haven’t the patience for teasing. Not with you.”

  She braced her hands on his hips, licking the head of his cook with a tentative tongue. She moaned, the flavor of him instantly addicting, and opened her mouth to take him in.

  “Bethany.” His hands tightened in her hair, but he didn’t push, didn’t pull her closer. His body was nearly vibrating against her from holding back.

  She tried to take more, her lips stretching, throat closing at the large intrusion. She took a deep breath and relaxed her throat muscles until her eyes watered, wanting to drive him wild. To please him.

  To love him.

  He was swearing in French, praising her with a voice breaking with passion as she learned what he liked. She swirled her tongue around his shaft, beneath the head of his cock, and he swore through gritted teeth, pleading for more. Eager to explore her newfound power, one of her hands left his hip to caress the balls stretched tight beneath his erection.

  “You’re a natural, love. Don’t stop.”

  Recalling something she’d read from Allegra’s notes, she slid her fingertips along the skin between his legs, between the cheeks of his ass, and pressed.

  He bucked against her mouth in reaction before tugging her head back by her hair. His eyes were wild. Shocked. “Where did you learn that?”

  “Why?” She pressed harder, rubbing his sensitive skin suggestively. “Do you like it?”

  He’d brought this out in her. This bold, seductive stranger.

  “Are you curious, Blue Eyes? Do you want to know how it feels? To know what my cock will feel like inside your sweet ass?” She licked her lips, amazed that she was. She did want to know.

  “Will you show me?”

  He closed his eyes, his expression pained. He dropped to his knees beside her, turning her around until she was on all fours. “I want to. God only knows how I want to.”

  He spread her cheeks and she gasped when she felt the wet pressure of his tongue. He was kissing her, licking her—there. And it felt incredible. Indescribable.

  “Yes.”

  He moaned at her sound of approval, spreading her wider, almost painfully, his tongue greedy as it lapped every drop of water off her skin. He lifted his head, reaching for the new condom on the rim of the tub and tearing the foil with his teeth. “I can’t, Bethany. Not this time. I’ll hurt you if I’m not patient, and I can’t wait, can’t be gentle. I need to come inside you. Now.”

  She scrambled for purchase as he lifted her hips high and thrust deep.
She was still aching from their last hard ride but she didn’t care. She wanted this. Needed everything he was willing to give her.

  He reached up to wrap her hair around his fist again, using the other to grip her shoulder tight, holding her still for each forceful stroke.

  “It’s a fever inside me, this need for you. All these years, I never understood. But now I know. I’ll never get enough, love. Never.”

  She pressed back, reveling in the wildness of his pumping hips. His hand tightened on her hair and the sharp tug made her cry out. She was close. She could feel her climax waiting, ready to overwhelm her.

  “BD!”

  Her orgasm pounded against her like a summer storm. He called out to her, shouting her name as his own release carried him away.

  By the time their breathing had slowed and the water cooled, she could almost convince herself that he hadn’t said someone else’s name.

  Isabel.

  Chapter 8

  The revelry was in full swing when they returned to the gathering. With the minister gone, the gazebo had turned into a different type of altar, lined with candles, flowers, and even what looked to be miniature sugar skulls.

  The people who weren’t already dressed in black and purple had been given purple shawls to wrap around their shoulders. To welcome Papa Ghede to the gathering.

  Bethany moved closer when the crowd grew quiet and a man stood up at the base of the altar, lifting his glass. “For my beloved Tamara. Wild at heart, free of spirit, and always ready to laugh. We miss you.”

  The crowd cheered for the missing Tamara and drank. A woman came forward next. “For Shelly, you were a loving mother, a true artist, and you never let the cancer kill your joy.”

  The cheering and drinking resumed as Bethany felt a shawl fall over her shoulders. She hadn’t noticed until he’d returned that BD had gone to get her one, to help her blend in with the others. “Thank you. Do you know what they’re doing?”

  He spoke softly in her ear. “They are honoring the dead, now when the veil is thin between worlds. Telling stories and jokes about their friends and family, celebrating life.”

  “I never understood why the celebration of life always seems to include death and skulls.” Bethany pulled the shawl closer, unable to stop the feeling of foreboding that fluttered in her stomach.

  He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her back against him. “By acknowledging how temporary life is, you appreciate it that much more.” His tone grew thoughtful, somber. “Humans are fragile. Plagues, war, one bad storm can take them away. Yet as long as you breathe, you build and strive and grow. Amid tragedy you find ways to celebrate and survive. That is one of the things about you that attracts the Loa. The passion of humanity. The life you pack into the short time you have.”

  She leaned her head on his shoulder. “Is it what attracts you?”

  “You attract me, Bethany Sorelle. I cannot think beyond that right now. Do you have anyone you want to celebrate?”

  Her throat closed. “Not in front of all these people.”

  “The ones who matter will hear you from here,” he promised, his voice low and tender.

  “For my parents,” she started, closing her eyes and seeing her favorite snapshot of them together in her head. “I know you didn’t mean to leave me so soon. Didn’t plan for it. But I know I came from love. I felt it. I hope you’re together, wherever you are.”

  “That’s perfect, Blue Eyes. Just perfect.”

  “And you?” She lifted her lids to look up at him. “Do you have someone to celebrate?”

  He kissed her forehead. “Yesterday I would have said I had no one.”

  But not today.

  He leaned back, shaking his head. “This is not the party I was expecting as my send off. Are you sure you don’t want to go back inside before someone sees us?”

  “Too late.” Bethany chuckled weakly as she saw Allegra and Michelle heading in their direction.

  “You came. I thought you might miss it.” Allegra’s freckled cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright from love and rum punch.

  “Yes. Poor you. You might miss it.” Michelle smiled, but her green eyes were flickering all around, telegraphing her discomfort.

  BD reached out to cup her friend’s shoulder. “Don’t fear your gift, Toussaint. Not tonight, when the Marassa roam. Revel in it. You can see those that have come to be remembered by the living. Think of the comfort you could bring.”

  Michelle’s sent him a look of bemusement. “You’re kind of a softy, aren’t you?”

  “Told you so.” Allegra sing-songed, gasping when she saw Bethany’s hair. “You braided your beautiful hair again? And how did it get wet?”

  She glanced between them before grinning devilishly. “Never mind. I guess you started the honeymoon without us.”

  Rousseau appeared beside her and drew her gently into his arms. “I’m going to start the honeymoon without you if you don’t stop letting Ben fill your glass with punch.”

  She kissed his lips with a loud smack. “I’ll never be that tipsy.”

  “Don’t blame me,” Ben said, joining the group and patting BD on the shoulder. “Blame The Mamas. Every time I turn around mine is adding more rum to the spiced punch.”

  Michelle rolled her eyes at his innocent expression. “I see the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

  He moved to her side, and Bethany noticed the way his hand subtly caressed her stomach. “Just make sure my apple doesn’t have any of that punch.”

  She knew by the way BD stiffened beside her that he’d caught that, but he didn’t say a word. She wondered if he felt the same way she did when she looked at the two couples. Both were starting new lives together. Lives filled with so much time. So many days.

  It was hard not to envy them their futures or want the same thing with him. It was insane, wasn’t it? How had she gotten so attached to this man so quickly? Why did being with him feel so right? So familiar?

  An answer to that question was there in the back of her mind, she knew it. But it was frustratingly out of reach. Like an almost-remembered dream. Or a memory long forgotten.

  It felt important.

  The sound of drums had them all turning toward the gazebo. The beat was hypnotic. One drum joined another and another, each beating like a heartbeat. One heartbeat. Thousands. Hers.

  They were shoved closer as a circle developed around the drummers, people swaying and rocking together. Some on the edge of the circle were dancing. Bethany wanted to join them. Her mother used to dance.

  She swayed to the rhythm, watching as Mambo Toussaint stepped into the center of the circle and called on Papa Legba, invoking his name for permission to begin. She said he opened and closed the doorway between worlds, and watched over the crossroads. A messenger, Bethany remembered reading somewhere, like Mercury. Or Peter, the keeper of the keys.

  The drums were making it hard for her to think, to concentrate on Mambo Toussaint’s words.

  Bending over, the priestess sprinkled cornmeal into a design on the grass. Bethany felt the strongest yank yet on her braid, but, knowing it was only Emmanuel, she shrugged it off and moved closer, wanting to see.

  The drums were pounding faster now, making her feel oddly breathless. Floaty.

  Where were the others? BD? It didn’t matter, because she was here. Dancing to the drums as the mambo honored life and God. The Marassa twins and Papa Ghede.

  Ghede was the protector of children who died before their time. Had he protected Manuel? Was that what the ghost was trying to tell her?

  She felt a cold hand on her arm and a harsh voice in her ear. “You’re a paler version than the one I remember. Older too. But you can’t fool me. I would know those blue eyes anywhere, Isabel.”

  She turned and the world spun crazily around her. She shook her head, trying to focus. It was the bearded man who’d smiled at her. The one BD had glared at as he’d come down the aisle.

  “What did you call me?”

  �
��I should call you a whore for chasing after trash when you could have been a queen. My queen.” He came closer and repulsion filled her along with vague memories of cruelty. Words that horrified her. Dark magic. But that didn’t make any sense. She didn’t know him.

  He wrapped his fingers around her wrist, his grip so painful she cried out in surprise.

  “Let me go, asshole. You’ve got me confused with someone else.”

  Silver glinted on the edge of her vision and she gasped, seeing the knife. “I’ll have you confused with a corpse if you don’t do as I say. And I’ll take a stab at the pretty, powerless bride as well, since I’ve got nothing left to lose.”

  “No.” Why couldn’t she move? Why wasn’t she punching this idiot’s face in and calling for help. She wasn’t Isabel. She wasn’t helpless. “Leave her alone.”

  “Then come with me. You and I have some unfinished business. Let’s see if Marcel cares enough to notice you’re gone.”

  BD watched the revelers with a distracted smile, Elise on his arm near the center of the circle. She patted his sleeve. “I know you’re impatient to get back to her, but thank you for taking a moment to talk. And for being here. I know Allegra was overjoyed when you agreed to walk her down the aisle.”

  “I have enjoyed my time with your family more than I can say.”

  “You don’t want to leave.” She wasn’t asking.

  “No.” Now more than ever, he’d give anything to stay. Even if Bethany couldn’t see him, he would be happy to stay by her side. She liked it here. Maybe Michelle would convince her to stay in New Orleans, so he could speak to her now and then. If not, he would try to follow her to New York.

  “If we ask for that boon for you, perhaps Papa Ghede will hear our plea.”

  She didn’t sound too hopeful, and neither was he. After his protocol breach with Rousseau and his refusal to return as required, he knew he wasn’t all that popular with the other Loa. Although he had given them the soul of the djab.