by Linda Joyce
“Fair play,” she whispered in his ear, then licked there, as she reached for the button on his jeans.
He peppered her face with kisses, then sucked on her bottom lip. “Woman,” he growled. “I want you.”
Her breath hitched. Nodding, she lowered his pants. Then rising, she grasped his hardness and stroked, marveling at the beauty of his erect maleness. His expression went slack, his lips parted. He arched back slightly and moaned. A tone so sensually arousing she couldn’t tug off her panties fast enough.
On her tiptoes, she melted against him, her arms circling his neck. Warm hands cupped her butt and hoisted her upward. With a tiny adjustment, he fitted her slowly and expertly on his hardness. Impatient, she wiggled a bit to allow for his full entry and contracted around his erection, He groaned. She contracted again.
In the confined space, she leaned backward, her upper back resting against the wall. Rex held her securely. He braced against the shelving for support. The space between them allowed her to catch his every expression. He slightly bent his knees. Thrust forward. She licked her lips, waiting for his next move.
“Fair play,” he murmured, his gaze fixed on hers. He tweaked her breast, and she arched. Wetness seeped as she contracted around him again, relishing in the pleasure that gave him. He thrust his pelvis again. Then again. When she closed her eyes and moaned a sigh, Rex continued with a steady rhythm. Her aching desire skyrocketed. Pleasure enveloped her as she undulated her pelvis against him.
As though sensing her need, he increased the pace of his movements in and out. Quicker. Harder. The tension in her core twisted and spread throughout her body with luscious exhilaration. She wanted to reach for him, but that would break his pace. Instead, she braced her arms against the wall. To alter the thrill of the ride would be criminal.
The sound of rushing blood filled her ears. Her breath quickened. The first fissure of bliss appeared. She swallowed hard. Shivers of pleasure cascaded.
“You win!” She closed her eyes and watched heaven burst into sparkling lights with shooting stars. It was as though the essence of her being shot upward and rapture claimed her. Her breath came in short pants. She savored the thrill washing through her body.
A fuzziness filled her brain. She was barely aware of Rex holding her hips, her butt resting on top of his thighs. His thrusts slowed, but grew more powerful. With each movement he made, she gripped him tighter with her inner muscles, holding on to him and the euphoria he produced within her.
She floated as though on the wings of a bird, then descended gently. Lifting her chin, she gazed at Rex, relaxing into a love-induced haze.
****
Rex thrust deep inside her again as the power of his orgasm hit him. Shot him upward. Mountaintop high. His body stiffened. He held her securely in place.
“Ohhh…” The sound of his voice broke through the trance of lovemaking with Nola. Elation drenched him. Slowly he smiled and gazed at her through heavy-lidded eyes. No woman every looked so lovely with her long hair spilling around her, sweater askew, and skirt bunched above the swell of her gorgeous hips.
She wrapped her legs around his waist, and he bounced her for a last couple of short thrusts. Never had a woman consumed him the way she did. Shit. They were in a closet pounding away at each other like high school kids. But he wouldn’t change it for the world. As traditional as she appeared on the outside, she possessed a naughty side. He wanted to explore it with her. She was like praline whipped cream on top of sweet potato pecan pie making a luscious dessert extraordinarily tasty. He would never order pie again and not think of her.
As Nola loosened her legs from around him, Rex set her on her feet. They hadn’t exchanged many words, but something much deeper than words bound them together. She looked up at him with her eyes wide and glowing. Cheeks still flushed. Reaching for him, she cupped his jaw and planted a delicate kiss on his lips. “And I thought I wanted to play cowgirl with you. I think I liked the teacher-thing even better.” Her mouth curved into a coy grin.
Her touch. Her lips. Her words. His heart quickened again. “If you liked that, Madame, I’ve got some other ideas in mind.” He winked.
Turning her head bashfully and shrugging her shoulders, she said, “Trumpet man, you take my breath away.”
With his heart thudding in his chest, he swelled with a new possessiveness. He wanted more than games to stimulate their erotic side and satisfy their lust. Whether his brain liked it or not, his heart was involved for the long haul. A satisfying realization took hold. He truly loved her. All of her.
He pulled up his pants and straightened his clothes.
“Here, let me.” He hooked her bra back in place. She smoothed her skirt, adjusted her sweater, and plucked her panties from the shelf behind him. She folded them and slid them into her skirt pocket. He schooled his expression to nonchalance. He might not have Superman’s x-ray vision, but his imagination was keen.
“Nola.” He stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers, reveling in the sensations of the connection they shared. He pulled her into a hug and whispered, “There isn’t another man in your life who means something serious to you, is there?”
She chuckled. “I’m not that kind of girl, Mr. Arceneau.”
“What kind is that?”
“To be committed to one and have sex with another.”
Her words made his heart thud quicker. Then the question swirling in his mind spilled out. “Why is there no one special in your life? To love you. To cherish you. To share the wonders of lovemaking with you.”
She sighed. “My family says I’m too picky. Part of me is rather old-fashioned. I don’t do this with just anyone you know.” She raised her eyebrows. “Sex isn’t a recreational hobby or a workout to me.”
Pride swelled in his chest. Nola Belle had picked him! A flood of thoughts washed over the joy thrumming through his body. He wanted her in New York with him. A record deal. That could ensure she’d be there for a while. Once he got everything set up, he’d create a romantic evening and share the good news with her.
She took his hand. “Mr. Arceneau, do you have plans for dinner? I know a place nearby—in walking distance—with a table for two.”
“I’m hungry, Miss Dutrey, but I need more than food to satiate my cravings.”
“Well…” She chuckled. “I think the place I have in mind will be able to accommodate all of your appetites.”
“Hmm,” he growled, sniffing at her. “Yes, I think you’re right. Let’s go.” He tugged her from the room.
****
Giddy, she looked down at her feet to make sure they were touching the ground as she walked with her fingers laced with Rex’s. He carried his trumpet case in his other hand. She imagined him standing on the landing outside her apartment with Marquis in the moonlight serenading her and Kayla while they lounged with drinks by the pool. Watching an accomplished musician use his instrument expertly ranked high, maybe only a notch below love, honor, and family. She giggled. Rex had proved to be an expert with his manly instrument, too. Her insides clenched in anticipation of the appetizer she planned for him when she got him in her bed.
Together they raced up the stairs. Rex took her keys from her trembling hand and opened the door.
“Welcome to my home. Again.” She pulled him across the threshold. “There’s the table for two. I’ll call the butler and have him bring dinner round—he works part-time at The House of Peking because I can’t afford him but once a week.” She moved the plant off the table, but left the curtains open to capture the last rays of the day. The pre-dusk light cast a beautiful golden glow in her apartment.
Rex placed his trumpet case behind the chair, out of the way, in the living room, and stood beside it.
Breathless, she scrutinized him from nearly ten feet away. A fluttering began in her belly. She was no better than a crazed kid in a candy store on a mission to grab a sugar high—posthaste.
“Is something wrong?” Rex asked.
“Oh,
no. I assure you nothing is wrong.” She backed and kicked the front door closed. Putting her finger to her bottom lip, she surveyed him from top to bottom, almost wishing he’d worn a suit. Disrobing him, article by article of clothing, created a tantalizing image in her mind.
This was her turf, and she intended to take control. From the moment she’d laid eyes on him and heard that fateful bluesy 12/8 beat, her resistance to him had been futile. The best course of action was to go with the flow. Lordy, Rex Arceneau gave her hedonistic fantasies.
She reached for the remote and turned on a CD. Chris Botti played “The Look of Love.” With half-hooded eyes, she gazed at Rex and swayed to the music.
When she kicked off the first shoe, it landed five feet away in the efficiency kitchen, hitting the refrigerator with a thud.
Rex raised an eyebrow as though concerned.
“Oops.” She giggled. The second shoe followed the first.
On her tiptoes, rocking her hips in a figure eight like she’d been taught in a long-ago hula class, panty-less, she reached for the bottom of her sweater. Continuing her dance, she lifted the garment over her head and tossed it at Rex.
He caught it. This time, he raised both eyebrows.
With only her bra and skirt on, she stepped and thrust her hips, dancing in a circle in place. He licked his lips. She motioned with her finger for him to come closer. She held up her hand after he crossed the room to stand before her. They remained an arm’s distance apart.
She leaned and whispered, “I want to ask you a favor.”
“You name it. You got it.” His eyes widened.
“Don’t be too hasty. You don’t know what I desire.”
“Well, short of it involving blood, I’ll do anything for you right now.”
The music continued and Nola danced, undulating her hips to the sounds floating around them. His manly arousal made her smile.
“You promise you won’t disappoint me?”
“Not if it’s within my control.” His words came out in a rush.
“Take your jeans off.”
Quickly, he disposed of them.
She pulled on his shirt, then began to unbutton it. When it hung open, she pressed herself to him. He wrapped his arms and the loose ends of his shirt around her.
“Gorgeous, name what you want. After that, I’m taking control. You’re my fantasy.”
She undid her skirt and let it fall to the floor, then kicked it out of the way. His mouth gaped. His eyes widened.
Wiggling, bent forward, her hands on the edge of the table for support, her butt pressed against his straining erection.
“You fantasize about this?”
A guttural groan sounded behind her. He bumped her from behind. She giggled. “Well, Mr. Arceneau. I want you to do a fundraiser with me. Dueling trumpets with Marquis and a jam session with local musicians. All to raise money for my band.”
“Yes!” He ground himself against her butt.
Tat. Tat. “Well, hello!” a voice sounded from outside the window. Nola looked up into Emile Broussard’s eyes. His wide grin nearly hid the rest of his face. She gasped. Squeezing her eyes shut, she opened them. He leered back.
“Shit,” Rex growled.
Nola turned quickly to face Rex, who moved her aside and closed the curtains.
“Knock. Knock.” Emile Broussard pounded on her door.
Nola froze. Rex removed his shirt and tossed it at her. She caught it. He grabbed for his jeans and slid into them.
“Hello! Hello!” Shouts continued from the other side of her door.
Still in shock, Nola remained rooted. Rex crossed the room, opened the front door, and leaned in the opening, blocking Emile from entering. Nola caught a peek of him. He appeared like a jack-in-the-box trying to dodge the barrier of Rex’s torso and catch a peek inside her apartment.
“I was certainly misinformed,” Emile snarled. “Nola, you’re going to want to talk with me! We can make this a public scene or conduct business professionally and quietly inside.”
“Professionally? You want professional?” Rex asked. “Then make an appointment, and she’ll come to your office for a meeting. We’re otherwise engaged right now.”
“Fuck you. Arceneau. Take your ass back to New York. I’m here to talk with Miss Dutrey. You’re the one impeding her business concerns.”
Nola ran to her bedroom and pulled on a robe. Once at the front door, she tapped Rex’s shoulder. “Please let him in and let me deal with this once and for all.” She hadn’t returned Emile’s call about dinner—this was payback for that?
Rex raised one eyebrow. Clearly, he was disgusted. How funny a twitch of the same eye could convey such different meanings in a short span of time. She almost laughed about the contrasts of his reaction, but he stepped aside to allow Emile to enter.
“I went by the community center, but you’d already gone,” Emile snapped.
Thank goodness he hadn’t discovered us there. Rex makes me lose my mind. Act irresponsibly.
“You following her?” Rex asked, taking a seat on the arm of the couch.
“I happen to have a copy of her schedule. It’s required for use of the property.”
“How may I help you?” Nola pulled the robe tighter and held the lapels closed over her chest.
Emile’s eyes narrowed. “You can’t now. You had your chance.” He pointed to Rex. “His career has reached its pinnacle. I’m on the way up. We’d make a perfect pair. In time, I could give you all you need, all you want. The community center was just the beginning. I own several properties and was willing to have you utilize one of them to avoid any look of political impropriety.”
Confusion swirled as Nola tried to make sense of his implications.
“I wanted you. You. By my side. We both want to do great things for this city. We have a common mission. A friendship. That’s the first step toward a binding relationship…love even.”
“Oh, Emile.”
He can’t be serious.
“Save it. I thought I might be in love with you, but seeing you bending your ass over for him! I didn’t love you. It was just lust.” Emile grabbed his crotch. “I wanted to fuck you. And I’m going to. Now.”
Rex stood. In a flash, moved between her and Emile. He shook his head. “No.”
“Oh, don’t worry, Arceneau,” Emile spat. “I wouldn’t touch that piece of ass now for anything. I’m going to screw her in a way that hurts her hard and for a long time to come.”
Nola trembled. What was he ranting about? Hurt her? How? Her palms began to sweat. Her muscles tensed. She stepped to Rex’s side. He put an arm out, blocking her from moving any closer to Emile.
“Miss Nola Dutrey.” Emile waved a set of papers in front of her. “This was the new agreement for the use of the space. Lease free.”
He ripped the papers in half.
“No. Wait!”
He leered. “There’s a clause in the original agreement that I’m exercising. The building is needed for a cause that will be of greater benefit to the community. You have thirty days to get your shit out.” He continued to tear the paper into smaller and smaller pieces.
“Stop. Please. Let’s talk about this.” Nola’s heart plunged.
“This is me fucking you.”
“What do you want from me?”
He ignored her. “And ya know, it feels really good.” He dropped the pieces to the floor. “Ahhh.” He grinned, then nodded his head. “Yeah, feels good.”
Her stomach clenched. She shook her head slowly, trying to clear away a haze that had to be from a bad dream. She tried to push past Rex and reach for Emile. There had to be a way to make him see reason.
A guttural growl emanated from Rex. He lunged with an uppercut punch that landed on Emile’s lower jaw, whipping his head backward. Emile stumbled. He hit his head on the door. Rex landed a second punch in the man’s gut before Emile sank to the floor. Grabbing him by the suit jacket, Rex jerked him up, opened the door, and shoved him out, locking
the door as soon as he closed it.
“I’ll have you arrested for assault, Arceneau!”
Nola crumpled. Her vision blurred with tears. “Nooo,” she wailed.
Rex scooped her up and sat on the couch with her in his lap. “I’m sorry. Sweetheart, I’m sorry.”
She buried her head in his chest and sobbed while he tried to soothe her.
“It’s bad enough he’s throwing my kids out of the center,” she cried. “But what will we do when he presses charges against you?”
“We’ll cross that river with a barge.”
“How can you be so calm? Neither of us needs a scandal to hit the papers. The parents of my kids will see it as a broken trust. They won’t allow their kids to play in the band anymore.”
“Shhhush. Baby, it will all work out. It’s not the first tussle Emile and I have had.”
Nola wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her robe. “But Rex, I don’t have money to pay the lease. How will I ever make bail for you?” Her chin quivered.
What a mess she’d made of things.
Chapter 17
Buzz. Buzz.
Rex woke slowly. Vibrations in unison with a buzzing nudged him from sleep. His phone, annoying thing, continued to pull him to reality. He moved. His neck ached from the uncomfortable couch pillow. His right leg tingled with near paralysis. A weight on his body prevented him from moving as he tried to stretch. He looked down. Nola lay with her head on his bare chest, her torso nestled beside him. He grinned, recalling their night together. They’d shared their life stories from beginning to end. There wasn’t anything about her that he didn’t enjoy.
Easing off the couch, he rolled onto the floor. His pants were wrinkled, but she remained mostly undisturbed by his movement and looking so cute in his shirt. Grabbing a pillow, he gently placed it under Nola’s head. Her nose twitched, but she remained asleep.
“Note to self. No more bourbon.”
Slowly pushing to standing, he headed outside to the landing to avoid waking Nola while he answered the phone.
