Bayou Brides

by Linda Joyce

  ****

  “Rex,” Nola said softly, intoxicated by the feel of him. Had the assault weakened all her defenses? She wanted to feel alive and safe, and the only person giving her that had his fingers tangled in her hair and his gaze glued to her mouth.

  “Yes?” His eyes remained transfixed on her lips like a starving man staring through the window at Central Grocery. He nodded only slightly.

  Her mind screamed for her to stop and consider the consequences.

  I could’ve been seriously hurt!

  Reason fled. Logic evaporated. Her emotions listened to no one. Need flooded so strong that only a straitjacket might restrain her from reaching for him—but she doubted even that would do it.

  Moving, she straddled him. Energy flowing between them made her body crave a deeper connection with him.

  Logic pounded, trying to prick a pinhole in the barricade of her runaway emotions.

  No mixing business and pleasure.

  Forget that!

  She’d never made love to a man on a first date, and this wasn’t even that. Maybe it was adrenaline? Maybe it was the need to connect with him after that awful scare? Bringing her lips to his, she pressed hers to his in the barest of kiss. “Rex, I’m really going to kiss you now.”

  “Are you sure about this? I don’t think I can stop if you push this any further.”

  “I want you.”

  The moment the words slipped from her lips, longing urgently demanded satisfaction. Desire surged. Her brain shut down. Emotions flared bright and hot. So hot, she needed to be out of her clothes. She yanked her shirt over her head and tossed it. His gaze transfixed on the swell of her cleavage. Her breathing deepened when she witnessed his raw desire.

  He cupped her face. Warmth radiated from him into her. He slanted his head and began to devour her lips. The electric jolt between them startled her.

  Craving took over.

  She moved off him and stepped back to remove her pants. He followed her lead. It was as though a southern springtime storm raged in her tiny apartment. The only thing that mattered—she wanted him. To please him. To feel all of him. To hear him moan with pleasure.

  To make him feel what she felt when she sang a love song.

  Naked, she stood before him. He reached for her.

  Nola pushed him back to the couch and straddled him again. Her gaze remained glued to his. As she undulated her hips against him, he drew in a sharp breath. She wanted a deeper connection. He cupped her ass, then lowered his mouth to her breast. A rosy bud beaded under his kiss.

  Nola moaned softly, “Ohhh…yessss….”

  He rocked with her, his hardness pressing against her, but he made no further move. She understood he was allowing her to set their pace, to show him what she wanted. Lifting a bit, she slid over him, settling herself and joining them together. Tension inside her coiled tighter.

  Slowly, she moved rhythmically. Holding her hips, he pumped up and back. He licked his lips, and her desire urgently flared. She rested her hands on the tops of his shoulders and held on, arching to give him greater access to the most intimate part of her body. He thrust. She contracted her pelvic muscles around him, not wanting him to completely withdraw. Their movements transformed into perfect timing.

  But she wanted more. Tension twisted tight in her core. She feared she’d explode.

  “Ohhh,” she moaned. “Ohhh…Reeex,” she groaned as he thrust deeper, bouncing her butt against his legs. She wanted all of the ride.

  His thrusts quickened to 4/4 time. He tweaked one of her nipples. “Feel good, baby?”

  The sensations were so exquisite, she could barely nod. “Don’t…stop.”

  All sense of everything left her. She closed her eyes and focused on the inexplicable rocketing of her soul. “Yes!”

  “Now, darlin’?” Rex asked.

  “Yes!”

  Three hard pumps followed. The tip of his manhood thumped a spot in her and sent waves of pleasure. She’d only read about a G-Spot. Hadn’t been convinced she had one.

  “Ahh…” Her coiling tension shot upward. Her breath caught. She reached a pinnacle. Joyous bliss exploded into waves of silkiness and velvetiness washing through her body, the likes of which she’d never experienced. She rode the emotions flooding her body and senses, savoring the euphoria.

  “Yes, woman,” Rex growled. His body tensed beneath her. He thrust upward and froze. His hands tightly grasped her hips.

  In awe, she watched as the tenseness in his expression lifted away and the sweetness of pleasure etched his face. Eyes closed, he smiled sensuously.

  He opened his eyes again, and his gaze locked on hers. Captivating. Hypnotizing.

  The last of her elation joined with his. Together they rocked slowly, a sensuous dance. She leaned into him, her breasts pressed to his chest, and she rested her head on his shoulder. The afterglow of physical love warmed her. She cherished the feeling of their bodies joining. Heaven couldn’t offer more than what she’d just experienced with this man.

  Rex turned his head slightly and kissed her nose, then sighed deeply. She smiled. Their contentment was fully in sync.

  “We could move to my bed and do this again,” she whispered.

  His chuckle rumbled in his chest and radiated through hers.

  “Darlin’, I’ll do it anytime and anywhere…with you.” He wrapped his arms around her, enveloping her in a sense of security.

  Bang. Bang. The door opened.

  “Ringy-dingy!” Kayla shouted.

  Startled, Nola looked at Kayla, then to Rex. She hid her face in the crook of his neck. Oh, God, what must Kayla think? Peering, she caught her friend standing with her mouth agape. Rex grabbed for his shirt and covered Nola.

  “Holy fuck!” Kayla backed out of the door and then reentered. “No. No. No.” She dropped to her knees.

  Footsteps on the landing outside sounded heavy but quick.

  “I heard shouting. Everything okay?” Marquis burst in.

  Kayla made the sign of the cross, folded her hands in prayer, and closed her eyes. “I promise, God, I’ll never swear again if I open my eyes—I’ll even do it one at a time—if you make it so what I saw before was just an illusion.”

  Nola started to rise, but Rex held her close to him. “Shh,” he whispered. “Just wait a moment before you move.”

  “What the hell?” Marquis said.

  “Rex?” Nola asked.

  “Let’s see if God will grant her wish.”

  Was he crazy? Making love with him was as real as it got. Not sure what to do, she scrunched her face. Her brain ticked off all the reasons why making love to Rex couldn’t happen again. Still, she hated the idea of moving out of his embrace.

  But crazy couldn’t be repeated again.

  Chapter 8

  Rex kissed the top of Nola’s head. “I want to reaffirm my promise to you. Anywhere and anytime.” He ignored his sister’s repeated “harrumph” and the trumpet player’s growl. As long as he believed in his wish, the intruders were a figment of his imagination. They weren’t fools, at least not the unintelligent kind. They could take a hint. In a moment, they’d leave.

  Or he’d throw them out.

  Then he and Nola could resume their “getting to know you” dance. He could give her more of what she wanted. Hell, he’d do anything to hear her moan his name.

  He looked up again. Kayla and Marquis had their arms folded over their chests. Lips drawn thin. He could understand Kayla being mad, but what was stuffed up Marquis’ ass?

  Rex sighed. Until the second Kayla burst through the door, his brain was conjuring delights he could bestow upon Nola’s luscious body and his anatomy wholeheartedly agreed. To have her gaze at him with sultry bedroom eyes filled with adoration and joy brought forth an urge of desire that even uninvited visitors couldn’t quell. He adjusted her in his lap. He had to get them to leave. Now.

  Mere feet away, Marquis lifted a pink blanket from the only chair in the room and threw it. Rex caught
it and then covered Nola and himself more.

  “You’re demented.” Kayla’s voice rang with condemnation. He couldn’t be sure if her scorn was directed at him or Nola. Or both.

  “Man.” Marquis shook his head. “I told you about the curves.”

  Marquis had a thing for Nola? He’d never put a name to the curves.

  I can read energy sometimes. I don’t ever read minds.

  “She’s practically a sister to me.” Kayla narrowed her eyes at him.

  “That’s enough.” Nola rose, pulling most of the blanket with her. She reached and tugged off his shirt, throwing it in his lap, saving him from the prying eyes of their intruders and a possible view of his half-mast erection.

  Wrapping the blanket around herself like a sarong, she pointed to the door. “Ringy-dingy means call me, not burst into my apartment, Kayla. And you, Marquis, I don’t understand the judgmental scowl on your face. Both of you, thank you for your concern. Now. Get. Out.”

  “Wait a minute,” Kayla began. “I demand to know what the fuck you and my brother are doing together…fornicating! He’s going to fire your ass. This gives new meaning to sleeping with the enemy.”

  Marquis furrowed his brow. “I told you she was doing good things in the community, and you’re gonna fire her? Shit. You’re not the man I thought you were.” Marquis shook his head and turned, leaving the apartment. After he crossed the threshold, he turned back. “Miss Arceneau, let me get you a drink. Something strong. I’m in the apartment at the end of the landing.”

  Kayla threw her hands up. “I’m outta here. I’m gonna get drunk to wipe away the vision burned in my brain of the two of you.” She pointed at Rex. “You want to throw your hands into the business? Tomorrow’s a great time. I’m sure I won’t make it to work. Not after the night I intend to have.” She stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door behind her.

  “Finally,” Rex said, raking his fingers through his hair. “Come over here, woman.”

  Nola shook her head. She moved silently around the small living room gathering up his clothes strewn around when their haste to sate their desires had taken control. As though watching a movie, he observed her. Half-shuttered eyes. Sensual bare shoulders. Her long, dark wavy hair hung freely down her back with a few strands loose in front. The contrast of her dark hair against the creaminess of her skin and the pink of the blanket would delight any portrait painter. He stared for a moment at the swell of her perfect breasts now covered by the blanket, and his body reacted, remembering tweaking and suckling there.

  Her hands, elegant with long tapered fingers, smoothed wrinkles from his pants. He wanted her to touch him with the same caress. She folded his pants and then shook out his suit jacket, carefully laying it across the chair.

  His body pulsed with need. Her scent ignited his awareness. The warmth of her body lingered. When she had moaned, it was as captivating as her singing. He wanted it all again. Wanted her.

  “You have to leave now,” she said quietly, not looking at him. Her gaze appeared focused on her feet. Lovely feet at that.

  “Let me stay and take care of you.” He wanted the rest of the evening and the entire night with her. A soak in the tub. When had she eaten last? “I’ll grab some food from Harbor House Bistro around the corner. You want an oyster po’boy? What do you like to eat?”

  “I think it would be best if you leave. If I’m well enough to fornicate, as Kayla pointed out, then I think I’m well enough to work.”

  Rex shook his head. “I don’t think math works that way. You suffered a shock.”

  “That’s an understatement.”

  “Why do I think that we’re not speaking about the same thing?”

  Nola lifted her chin. “Would you mind getting dressed?”

  “Where are you working?” Rex called as he rose and slipped on his shirt and then glanced around for his briefs.

  “Harbor House. I sing from ten until midnight.”

  “There’s no way I can convince you to call out tonight?” He bent and pulled on his pants. “It would be completely understandable after what happened.” Even if he couldn’t make love to her again, he still wanted to spend the evening with her and then tuck her into bed. He had to get to know her—all about her. Had to understand.

  “Rex, please leave.” Her voice drooped as much as her shoulders. She retreated into the next room and closed the door.

  Unwilling to abandon her after the shock of her attack, and quite possibly the shock of their attraction to each other—it certainly shook him—he went to the fireplace mantel and lifted a frame to get a good look at the photograph. A group shot of a host of people on the front steps of Fleur de Lis. He spotted her right away. Then her sister. There had to be more than twenty people assembled. The smiles on their faces and the way they stood, their body language, revealed this family had a genuine fondness for each other. He and Kayla shared a family similar in numbers, but not even at Mardi Gras did they ever gather together.

  As a door opened, Rex turned.

  “Oh. I thought you’d gone.” Nola was dressed in a deep blue robe. He wondered if he tugged on the belt and it opened if he would find her naked underneath.

  Planting himself in the chair, he cocked his head and gazed at her. “I told you I didn’t want to leave you alone.”

  “Singing is healing to me, and I have responsibilities. Not that I owe you an explanation, but since I’m losing one of my jobs imminently, I have to keep this one. I would like to rest for an hour before I have to dress and leave. I’m not your responsibility.”

  Her words struck him as though he’d been slapped. He wanted to take care of her. He cared for her…probably way too much.

  “Nola.” He rose and went to stand before her. Moving a strand of hair behind her ears—anything to touch her, to feel her physically and have the energy flow between them—he stroked the side of her face as a chunk of the anxiety he hadn’t realized he was holding on to lessened. “I want to explain about the issues at Arceneau’s. I have questions that must be answered. If we could take a few minutes to talk…”

  “Not now. Not tonight.”

  “Of course not. It’s business. I shouldn’t drag it into your personal sanctuary.”

  “How did you know?”

  “Know?”

  “That’s how I feel about my apartment. It may be tiny, but it’s mine. My sanctuary.”

  He didn’t share with anyone about his energetic sensitivities. Never told a soul, not even Kayla. The gift he inherited from his mother was private. But he wanted to explain it to this completely unique woman. He captured her gaze. She looked up at him with questions brimming. He fought the urge to reveal one of the most private things about himself. “Looking”—he pointed around the room—“at things you display, family photos, an ornate cross, embroidered pillows. Handmade items. Feminine. Serene. All this tells me, this is your private hideaway from the world.”

  Moving away from him, she circled around the couch and sat on the opposite end from where they’d made love. Nola folded her hands in her lap and fixed a stare on them.

  Rex dropped into the chair.

  “I’ve never had a man in here,” she said quietly.

  She’d never made love to a man in here?

  All his senses said she spoke the truth. A rush of something close to joy surged through him.

  “What is it about you? I feel fluttery and desirable when you look at me. I lose my mind when you touch me.”

  Whew. I’m not alone in this.

  She lifted her chin and locked gazes with him. “But Rex, I don’t want what happened here tonight to ever happen again.”

  Liar!

  He straightened, maintaining eye contact with her. Every nerve in his body popped. Why had she lied? Why? She wanted him. Desired him as much as he did her. Their connection ran deeper than physical. Just when he thought they might find an acceptable explanation for the money Papa paid her, when he thought maybe together they could work to find a wa
y to keep her singing at Arceneau’s, she lied. He might want her. Crave her touch. But he couldn’t trust her. Never trust a liar.

  Rising from the chair, he slipped into his shoes. After pulling on his suit coat, he crossed the room and stood before Nola. With a finger, he lifted her chin. Energy pulsed between them. Warm and frenetic. That mere contact made him want her more. Made him want to shove aside all rational thought. From the flicker in her eyes, he understood she felt it, too.

  “Nola, darlin’, I doubt you’re going to get your wish.”

  He bent and placed a kiss on her lips before leaving quietly, not bothering to close the door behind him.

  ****

  Nola jumped up and slammed the door. With her back against it, she considered walking down to Marquis’ apartment to try to explain to Kayla. But explain what? How she had violated her own personal space? How she lost herself completely with Rex? If someone told her the man put a voodoo curse on her—one that would give her a high better than singing when he touched her—she’d have laughed. However, a curse could be reversed. What cure was there for amnesia caused by a man? She’d known from the moment she laid eyes on him at Fleur de Lis and her heart beat the blues, she wanted him. Now her body wanted him, too. Her brain was willing to do battle to resist, though it would lose not only the battle, but the war, since there was no hope of any future with Rex. He was New York, she was New Orleans. That pretty much summed up the chasm of their worlds.

  As she turned to open the door, a trumpet blasted out a few notes. Slowly making her way down the open corridor, Nola headed for Marquis’ apartment. Peering through the open window, she spied Marquis standing and swaying and playing a few random notes on his trumpet to the jazz music playing on TV. Eyes closed, Kayla swayed to the music. Marquis took in every move Kayla made. Licked his lips. Then he tossed the horn on the couch and reached for Kayla’s hand, spinning her around. She leaned back into him as Marquis wrapped his hands around her waist, then slowly moved lower, smoothing over the curves of her hips. The two were locked in their own world.