Tempt Me

by R. G. Alexander

  Please say yes, she thought in his direction, surprised she was finding this innocent exploration of her body so sensual.

  It hit her that he had been alive in a time where she would be considered a harlot. A wanton. That somehow made this all the more thrilling.

  Gabriel didn’t let her down. “I think she’d be insulted if you didn’t. Be gentle with your teeth, at first, until you discover how much pressure it takes to make her wet.”

  The hand on her breast froze and Emmanuel looked at her. She nodded. “Please.”

  He bent his head to her free breast and kissed the top curve with his soft, gentle mouth. He trailed a blazing path of achingly light kisses along the side, just beneath her nipple, and the freckle that marked the start of her cleavage. Homage. That was the only word for so thorough an exploration of a single breast.

  It was setting her on fire. It was a sweetly painful kind of torture she wasn’t sure she could survive. Angelique lifted her hands to his head, impatient.

  “He’s a natural, isn’t he, baby? He’s not even trying and you’re already there. Willing. Aching.”

  Emmanuel lifted his head at Gabriel’s words, his blue eyes nearly black now as he studied her face.

  “Yes,” she told them both. Wanting Emmanuel to know how he was making her feel. Wanting to tell him she needed more. “God, yes.”

  Gabriel came to stand beside her, his hips at her eye level, his erection pushing against the fabric of his pants. “He needs you to show him, Angelique. Show him what you want.”

  He slipped his hand inside his unbuttoned pants and pulled out his thick cock, pressing the slick head to her lips. “Show him.”

  Angelique kissed the tip of his erection chastely, knowing Emmanuel was watching her every move, his hand still massaging her breast.

  She opened her lips and took Gabriel into her mouth, her tongue slipping out to swirl along his shaft, making him groan.

  “That’s what she wants. She wants you to taste her. Wants you so hungry for her flavor that you take too much.”

  She moaned in agreement and sucked him deeper, lowering her head until she’d taken as much as she could.

  Gabriel’s voice was gravelly as he continued. “Wants you to suck her nipples against the roof of your mouth. To pinch them between your fingers a little too hard. Oh, fuck, Angelique. Like that.”

  She cried out against Gabriel’s flesh when she felt Emmanuel’s mouth open over her nipple. He was a natural. His teeth gently bit down; then she felt the scrape of his tongue as the fingers of his other hand twisted her nipple with just the right amount of pressure.

  Angelique squeezed her thighs together, trying to ease the ache by rocking her hips back and forth. Emmanuel’s mouth left her nipple and she almost shouted in dismay until she felt it on her hip. On her stomach. The tops of her thighs. Oh God.

  She got up on her knees on the bed, her legs spread wide as she continued to lift and lower her mouth on Gabriel’s erection.

  “Not asking my permission anymore?” Gabriel sounded more aroused than upset. “Lie down on the bed with your head between her legs.”

  She sensed movement and then he was there, his hair silky against her thighs. She lowered her hips until she felt the first brush of his lips against her sex.

  There was no more room for shyness, no more words of instruction. He didn’t need it. After the first swipe of his tongue, he moaned low in his throat, his fingers tightening around her thighs. And then he was feasting. Sucking the lips of her sex, licking her, filling her with his tongue.

  A memory of the other night in the kitchen doorway popped into her mind. Emmanuel watched Gabriel do this to her. He’d seen it. Had he fantasized about it? Touched himself? She thought he could taste her fresh arousal when he pulled her closer as though greedy for more.

  She lifted her mouth off of Gabriel’s cock and shouted as she came. He held her steady as she pumped her hips helplessly against Emmanuel’s mouth, unable to control her body.

  When she was done quivering, Gabriel lifted her off Emmanuel and into his arms, growling when the younger man tried to reach for her again. “Back off. She’s addictive, I know. But back off.”

  Emmanuel stilled, watching him carefully. They were both like wary animals. And she was the bone.

  Angelique caressed Gabriel’s shoulder, and he started to relax. She kissed his neck. The line of his jaw. Loving him without words.

  “You liked what he did for you?”

  She nodded against Gabriel’s temple, kissing him there as well.

  “Do you think he deserves a bit of reciprocation?” Gabriel leaned away from her mouth to snare her gaze. “And I’ll be inside you to make sure he doesn’t distract you too much.”

  She nodded again, unable to stop her smile.

  Gabriel grumbled at her. “Those dimples would let you get away with murder.”

  Emmanuel had gotten off the bed, still hesitant to move closer, but clearly tautly strung. Gabriel positioned her so she was kneeling on the bed again, this time with him behind her.

  She reached out for the waistband of Emmanuel’s jeans and tugged. When he was close enough, she looked up at him with a warm, impish grin and looked at the denim. “Bet you could make those disappear, too.”

  Before she could blink, he’d complied. “Oh, my.” He was breathtaking.

  She glanced over her shoulder at Gabriel, who was sliding on his condom impatiently, and laughed.

  He spanked one ass cheek without cracking a smile, but his green gaze sparkled with humor and . . . affection? Love? He took her hips in his hands and fit the head of his cock inside her, his size making her breath come out in a pleasure-filled rush with the first shallow thrust.

  She turned back to Emmanuel, taking him into her hand with a gentle grip. His thick lashes flickered, but he didn’t look away. And neither did she.

  Angelique kissed him gently, tenderly. Light strokes of her tongue took in his taste. His scent was clean and bright. Like green grass and sunlight. Like Emmanuel.

  Time seemed to disappear. All she knew was desire. The delight of watching him experience this first, intimate kiss. The pleasure and ecstasy she felt as Gabriel took her to the place only he could. Passion.

  Emmanuel never reached for her, his fists digging into his thighs as she brought him to the edge. He went over with a soft cry that was nearly drowned out by her moans and Gabriel’s raw shout of completion.

  Gabriel pressed his forehead to her shoulder, her name a shaky murmur on his lips. But her eyes were still on Emmanuel.

  She wondered how someone could look so satisfied, yet so lonely at the same time. She wished she could soothe him.

  He bent down beside her and kissed her. Humbly. Gently. Then pulled back and smiled. “Thank you, Venus.”

  And then he was gone. Again.

  Gabriel didn’t say a word; he just tumbled her backward, pulling the covers over them and cuddling her close.

  She closed her eyes, suddenly exhausted. As she drifted into sleep, she could have sworn she heard someone calling her name.

  Angelique.

  SHE WOKE UP A FEW HOURS LATER, LISTENING TO GABRIEL’S slow, steady breathing, trying to calm her own.

  She couldn’t; something was wrong. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. It was so strong she had to extricate herself from her lover’s grip and get out of bed.

  Angelique. Come.

  Walking over to her clothes piled in a small heap in the corner, she saw it. The locket, glinting with unnatural light.

  She put it on without thinking, feeling its warmth against her skin.

  Your mother would be ashamed. She needs you and you aren’t there.

  Her mother needed her? Was that the foreboding that had woken her out of a sound sleep? She didn’t question it. She threw her clothes on and walked out of the room, knowing there was no time to wake Gabriel. No time to tell him what was wrong. She had to go now.

  Stepping outside just as
dawn was breaking, Angelique started to walk. She was heedless of the sounds and movements of the waking city. Of the men sleeping in alleyways along her route.

  She had to get home.

  Sin. You spent a night of sin while your mother was in need. Just like your father. Weak like your father. Can’t resist the darkness. Your brother, your mother, they know. Know how like him you are.

  How could they not know? It was so obvious to her now. It was why they’d always watched her so closely, always worried. They knew what was inside her. That she was just like him.

  She stopped in the street. Shaking her head as if to clear it. She was nothing like her father. Her family knew that. She knew that. Why was she thinking this way? Maybe Emmanuel was nearby. Could he find out if her mother was safe? “Manny?”

  How can you still resist me? Resist the truth? How is it even possible? You are full of doubt. You proved how weak you were last night. Ran back to spread your legs for the same man who’d used you and lashed out at you. You would keep him bound to you if you could. You would sell your soul just like your father did, hurt your friends. Hurt your mother. All for a man who doesn’t even love you.

  He hadn’t said that he loved her. Not once. She’d seen something in his expression; she knew she had. It felt like love, at least the beginnings . . . but he had never said it out loud.

  And then he shared you with someone else. Don’t you know, little girl? You’re just his whore. A whore for a man who embraces dark magic, consorts with voodoo spirits, and steals your will. It is the same magic that your brother had to suffer through. Your family had to pay for. You are your father’s daughter. You are cursed.

  She was cursed. Or her family was. Why had she thought she’d gotten off scot-free? Her father’s crimes had been too ugly. He’d gone too far. Her brother had spent years suffering for it. Her mother had spent most of her life alone, with no love for herself. Angelique was no different. She was worse, because she hadn’t understood. Hadn’t helped to ease their pain.

  She crossed the street and saw the same man from the bar last night. The one she had seen before. Bloodshot eyes stared unblinking. He made no move to follow her, just watched her as she walked swiftly away from him. Why was he watching her?

  He warned you, didn’t he? But you won’t admit that he was right and you were wrong. Always wrong. Go home now. Your mother is looking for you.

  She made it to her apartment, though she wasn’t sure how. As she walked up the steps, she felt different. As though she wasn’t in charge of her movements. They felt jerky. Alien. Like a dream.

  The door was unlocked. When she opened it she could see her mother sitting on the couch, a cup of coffee in her hand.

  Theresa Rousseau stood up as soon as she came in, looking relieved. “I was wondering where you were, Angelique. I know I shouldn’t have used the old key; you deserve your privacy. But I haven’t seen you much these last few weeks and I thought I’d surprise you with breakfast.”

  She narrowed her eyes as she studied her daughter’s wrinkled dress and wild curls. “Are you all right? What happened?”

  Angelique wanted to reassure her mother, but the words wouldn’t come out. Instead she walked over to her and hugged her. Too tightly. Why was she holding her so tightly? She focused on relaxing her arms.

  “Baby, what is it? What’s happened to you? Did someone hurt you?”

  Angelique’s mouth opened and words she hadn’t planned to say came out. “They tried, but I’m protected; you know that. Remember when I was little, when I was scared you told me you’d made sure nothing could hurt me? Why am I protected, Mommy? Why can’t Daddy’s darkness touch me?”

  Theresa looked at her oddly, but she patted her arms and nodded. “I can’t believe you remember that.”

  “Why am I protected?”

  “Your cross. The priests at the Catholic church blessed it.”

  “Not just the priests.”

  Theresa was trying to move from her arms now, obviously unsettled. “How did you know that? I never told you your aunt Cecilia blessed it as well. She insisted . . . just to be safe.”

  Angelique stepped back swiftly. “Aunt Cecilia. The Santeria priestess? She’s nowhere near powerful enough.”

  “What?”

  “I don’t think it’s working. I’m scared. We need to go see the Mambo. I’m worried something dark is after me.”

  “Angelique, my dear, please. What is it? What is after you? Why do you sound so strange?”

  She turned around and felt a vague sense of horror when she caught her expression in the mirror. Her expression, but not her. As if someone else was watching through her eyes. Something else.

  Her arms reached up behind her neck and she unclasped the cross she’d never taken off before. “Call them all, Mama. Michelle and Allegra and Mrs. Adair. Tell them we’ll meet them at the Mambo’s house. It’s an emergency. Trust me. I think my life is in danger.”

  She wasn’t sure how her mother responded. The last thing she remembered was looking at the cross in her hand, watching her fingers uncurl, and feeling the chain slide across her skin until it slipped, tumbling to the ground.

  After that she started to scream until everything went dark.

  CHAPTER 14

  GABRIEL SLEEPILY SLID HIS HAND ACROSS THE SHEET, searching for Angelique’s soft form. He’d had another nightmare. The darkness that had been chasing him was after her as well. He needed to feel her press against him, hear her heartbeat. He needed her.

  His body stirred as the scenes of the evening replayed in his head. She’d been incredible. He may have been fulfilling her fantasies, but she’d surpassed his. And she’d done something more. She’d gotten past his defenses. The young, sassy Angelique had gotten to his heart.

  “Morning, Sugarpants. Did you sleep well?”

  BD’s syrupy drawl was the only warning he got before he was dragged out of the bed and slammed against the wall so hard the wind was knocked from his lungs.

  “What the—”

  “Rousseau, you agreed to restrain yourself.”

  Gabriel kicked Celestin’s kneecap, then pushed him away when his grip loosened in surprise.

  Gabriel put his hands on his thighs, bending over to catch his breath. This was not how he wanted to start his morning. “Damn it! BD? Rousseau? What the hell are you two doing here?”

  And where was Angelique?

  He looked up. Celestin Rousseau was a big man. The tattooed and dreadlocked older brother of the woman he’d spent all night defiling. With her permission, of course.

  But obviously not Celestin’s.

  “Not happy to see me, you bastard?” Celestin snarled, taking a menacing step in his direction.

  BD stepped in front of him, keeping a firm hand on his shoulder. “Rousseau, calm down.”

  “Fuck you, BD. I trusted you to have my back, my family’s back, but you just couldn’t resist bringing my baby sister down to your level. And Bethany. I can’t believe she knew and didn’t—”

  “Enough.” BD’s expression changed dramatically. So dramatically Celestin took a step back. “No one, not even you, my friend, speaks disrespectfully about my wife.”

  He turned a gaze like amber fire on Gabriel. “You should probably put your pants on before the interrogation. Angelique’s friends are in the other room, but I don’t think they’ll be kept at bay for long.”

  He reached for the khaki pants at the foot of the bed, grumbling. Her friends, Ive and Kelly. Where had they stayed last night? And how had they gotten in? “What did she do, send out morning-after invitations?”

  Celestin growled at his muttered words, but he kept his distance.

  BD sighed, still watching Celestin through his lashes. “They spent the night with Bethany and me, and now they refuse to go home until they find out what you did to Angelique. They also, it seems, called her brother. Who called Benjamin. He should be here any minute. There is something going on Gabriel. More than you are aware of.”


  Gabriel felt his face heat. Jesus, he had to get out of here. And what did BD mean, what he’d done to Angelique? Did they want a blow-by-blow? “Why don’t they ask her? Isn’t she out there? What the hell is going on?”

  “Would we be here if she was out there?” Celestin’s expression was grim. “You shouldn’t have been here with her in the first place. Ben told me you were reckless, not stupid.”

  BD rolled his eyes. “Of course, Benjamin is the perfect role model for sanity in matters of the heart. And you’ve never behaved like an ass for love. Bah. I can name five instances now off the top of my head.”

  “Love?” Celestin gritted through his teeth, glaring at BD. “She’s just a baby. An innocent. None of this ever had to touch her. All this time he’s been making everyone miserable, making us feel sorry for him and causing his mother pain. But he’s been too busy fucking around with my little sister to worry about that.”

  Gabriel stood and zipped up his pants. Celestin was right. He’d been a grade-A asshole to his family. An asshole to repay the kindness Rousseau and the others had offered by sneaking around behind their backs. They deserved better; that wasn’t news.

  He’d take any lumps they gave him; he deserved it. But he wasn’t going to apologize for Angelique. Not when he knew that, given the chance, he’d do it again.

  Celestin wasn’t done listing his sins. “Last night he dragged her out of the club like a Neanderthal, away from you and her friends without a word. Now while he’s sleeping peacefully, she won’t answer her phone and no one has seen her.”

  “Wait. What?” Gabriel was awake now. He pushed past the two men and stalked into the front room of the suite, searching for some sign that she was here.

  Ive and Kelly were standing by the window. They both jumped when he appeared.

  “Where is she?” Gabriel knew he sounded gruff, knew he looked angry, but he couldn’t help it.

  Before they could answer the hotel door opened and Gabriel whirled around, heart in his throat. It was Ben Adair and Bethany. They both looked worried. Shit.

  “She’s not at her apartment. All I found was a cup of cold coffee and this on the floor.” Bethany held up the small cross that Gabriel had never seen Angelique without.