by Deanna Chase
The wine had relaxed me considerably, and my hand tingled in his. Even my blistered toe didn’t hurt. “I’d love to.”
He led me down Iberville Street and turned left on Royal. We strolled leisurely, appreciating the architecture, and window-shopped the art galleries and antique stores closed up for the night.
I stopped, studying one building. “Do you ever wonder how the balconies manage to stay in place?” I pointed to the one in front of us. “Look at that one. The balcony is slanted down, and it’s just held on by what looks like L-brackets.”
He chuckled, putting his arm around my waist. “I try not to think about it.”
“Good plan.” We walked a few more feet, his arm still around me. I wondered how the buildings themselves managed to stay upright. Many of them dated back to the eighteenth century and if you looked close enough, you could see the buildings leaning slightly one way or another, or in some cases leaning drastically in one direction. I assumed the buildings themselves held each other up, since they were mostly all connected with shared walls.
My attention shifted to Kane’s hand, which had moved to the small of my back. He stopped beside me, and I did the same, closing my eyes for just a moment to take in the comforting sensation. Kane turned and steered me ninety degrees, causing my heel to stick in the cracked sidewalk.
“Ouch,” I yelped, buckling.
Kane’s quick hands steadied me and kept me from falling. “I’m sorry. Are you all right?”
“I think so.” I put my foot down, testing the weight on my ankle. Grimacing, I lifted my foot, only applying pressure with my toes. “I don’t think I can walk anymore.” At least, not in high heels.
Concern reached my consciousness before I turned and found it etched on his face. “Sprained?”
“Probably. I need to get some ice on it. Can you call a cab?” I leaned into him.
He reached down and easily lifted me up into his arms. I wrapped my arms around his neck, feeling weightless and very feminine pressed against his chest.
“Uh, okay, but you don’t really think you can carry me all the way back to my apartment, do you?” As romantic as it was, even he couldn’t possibly sustain carrying me that far.
He smiled down at me, “No, just a block.” He took off in easy strides.
“Where are you taking me?”
“You’ll see.”
He stopped in front of a beautiful, deep gold Victorian home, trimmed in brick red. I sighed wistfully. “Who lives here?”
He lowered me gently, my body grazing down the front of his. I stood on the top step, both of my hands on his chest. Heat radiated. Leaning toward him, I stumbled and his arms came around me, steadying me once more. “Careful,” he whispered, his breath warming my ear. My eyes unfocused as his lips brushed against my cheek.
“Come on.” He produced a key.
Regaining my senses, I asked, “You live here?”
Nodding, he opened the door and nudged me inside. “We need to get you off your feet.”
I’d forgotten all about my ankle.
The home was a shotgun double. I mentally calculated the cost of such a place in the French Quarter. As I added up the zeros, my chest tightened. I realized I was holding my breath and slowly let it out. I’d known on some level Kane was a man of means, considering he owned a club and building on Bourbon Street. But for some reason seeing his beautiful home made me feel inferior. I’d never had more than just enough to pay my modest rent.
Shaking off the ridiculous feeling, I took in my surroundings. Typical shotgun doubles were originally a type of duplex. The front had two doors, but this place had one covered in shutters, with access to only the left side. It had been converted into a single. The story goes, the homes are named shotguns because a person could open the front door, fire a shotgun and the bullet would sail out the back door without ever hitting any walls. My first glimpse told me this was true. I could see straight through the living room, dining room and kitchen, clear to the garden in the back. Each room was separated by an archway, carved away in the dividing walls. To the right was what I supposed were bedrooms.
“This way.” Kane led me into the pale yellow kitchen and pointed to an island in the middle. “Have a seat.”
I sat, undid my strappy heel and inspected the damage. Not too much swelling, but enough that it would be sore for a few days.
Kane handed me ice wrapped in a towel. “Here, I’ll get you something to drink.”
I waited while he poured a couple glasses of wine. “Trying to get me drunk?”
He grinned. “No, but since no one’s driving…”
“No driving, but walking on this foot, especially while drunk, is likely to permanently maim me.” I picked up the glass anyway.
“I hadn’t planned on you walking anytime soon.”
“Oh, and what were you planning?” I gazed at him through lowered lashes.
“Dessert.”
‘Dessert?”
“Cheesecake, actually.” He pulled a cake plate out of his refrigerator and set it on the counter.
“Oh my God. I think I’m in love.” Cheesecake, wine and Kane all in the same room. I hoped I wasn’t drooling.
Kane paused, mid-slice, and raised his eyes to mine.
Panic seized my brain. “With cheesecake…and wine. I mean, I love both. I’m not in love with it. Obviously.” I cleared my throat. Someone had taken over my mouth. “It’s an expression.”
Kane’s eyebrows rose steadily through my stammering, then his lips quirked as he dished up two plates. Shit. That’s me, the stunning conversationalist. My eyes stayed glued to the dessert, even as he handed me a fork and claimed the stool next to me.
“Cheers.” Kane raised his glass.
“Cheers.” I risked a peek before taking a sip, and then reached for the cheesecake. “Yum, this is wonderful.”
Kane watched me, leaving his plate untouched.
“Aren’t you going to eat?” I asked.
“Eventually. It’s more fun to watch you.”
I smiled and began licking the dessert off the tip of my fork. His gaze dropped to my mouth. Slowly I wrapped my lips around the morsel, careful to get every last bit of creamy goodness. Satisfied I had his full attention, I brought a fresh forkful to his mouth and stopped breathing as he used his tongue to mimic my movements. What I wouldn’t give to be that piece of cheesecake right then.
“You’re right.” I swallowed, trying to clear my dry throat. “That was fun.” My skin prickled with the current of desire sparking through him. Suddenly my whole body pulsed with aching need. Mine and his.
“Jade,” he said, his voice a few octaves lower than normal as he gently pulled me from the chair, sending shockwaves to my most sensitive places. His strong muscular arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me tight to his heated body.
It was too much. Too fast. Everything pulsed. The tender flesh of my neck. My taut nipples. Between my thighs. And he’d barely touched me. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, intending for some sort of calm, but failed miserably as his fresh rain scent overwhelmed me. An exquisite tremor ran the length of my limbs, and a small moan escaped my throat as it reached my core.
“God, Jade, I’ve been dreaming about this for days.” Kane pushed me against the counter, his lips hungry and searching as they met mine.
Somewhere in the depths of my mind a wry laugh echoed. If he only knew. Pent-up passion exploded and all coherent thoughts vanished when I ran my greedy hands over his rippled stomach and the concave of his narrow hips.
He pulled back just enough to break the kiss. Passion smoldered in his rich chocolate eyes as we held an intense agonizing gaze. His unguarded raw emotion was like nothing I’d experienced before. Desperate need and hunger overpowered something more vulnerable; an aching desire to know me, all of me, and to be known. To love and be loved. It changed everything. My heart swelled and broke all at once as I recognized the familiar ache. An ache I’d buried long ago.
&nbs
p; I reached up, tracing the smooth edges of his freshly shaved jaw line. A tiny shiver raked over his skin, transferring to me as he gently nuzzled a trail of kisses down my bare neck and collarbone. I tilted my head, reveling in the tender moment, until his hands found my hips and he yanked me tight against his hard length. Desperate to be closer, feel more, know more, I lifted my injured leg over his hip and pressed into him.
Kane grasped my thigh, pulling it higher, and ran his smooth hand over my silky skin. His mouth assaulted my neck, nipping and sucking, while his merciless fingers teased the sensitive area of my hip and upper thigh. I writhed between him and the counter and buried my hands in his thick wavy hair, holding on as his thumb inched closer between us toward my heat.
Kane’s kisses turned feather-light and moved up my neck. He paused and whispered, “I want to see you. All of you.”
A new shock of desire rocked my core. All I could do was nod.
In one swift movement he lifted and cradled me against his broad chest, striding from the kitchen to a nearby bedroom. Careful of my foot, he lowered me gently and stepped back, staring with burning intensity.
I licked my lips and struggled to maintain balance in the midst of unsated tension.
“I want to see you,” he said again.
Delicious pain raged in his psyche as he held himself back. He was savoring this moment. It made it that much sweeter. I wasn’t wearing much, just a skirt and tank top over my bra and silk thong, but I took my time lowering the zipper until the skirt fell, pooling around my ankles.
His searing gaze fell just below the hem of my tank top. I struggled to maintain an appearance of calm. Overly heated and wet, I wanted nothing more than to drag him to the bed and wrap myself around him, until everything touched and he’d buried himself inside me.
Instead, my fingers danced around the edges of the cotton tank until he lifted his eyes, silently begging me to continue. Slowly I flattened my hands, gathering the fabric with my thumbs as they moved up over my flat stomach. I paused, cupping my full breasts, watching him as he watched me.
His eyes narrowed as my fingers inched together, pinching one nipple until it stood erect beneath the lace fabric of my bra.
His control, already pushed to the brink, waivered and pressed against my consciousness. A second later it shattered. I quickly pushed the tank over my head, freeing my arms to wrap around him as his mouth clasped on my breast, sucking painfully, deliciously through the thin lace, until I cried out.
“My turn,” I gasped and pulled on the button of his jeans, rushing to push them over his hips. He tore his attention away from my nipple long enough to divest himself of his shirt and kick the jeans aside.
“No fair,” I whispered as his teeth scraped my other breast.
“Hmm?” he mumbled into my flesh.
“I didn’t get to—oh!” His hand had slid its way between my thighs, pushing past the satin fabric. One long finger massaged the slick flesh, gliding into my opening. My knees buckled.
He caught me as a chuckle rippled from his satisfied half-smile. It took him just a moment to free us both of the rest of our garments, and when he laid me back on the bed our bodies melded together in the inferno, pressing, needing, clawing. Desperate to feel his silky flesh inside me, I opened to him, begging with my body to be consumed.
“Not yet.” He pulled back, his body trembling with effort. “Not yet.”
Slowing the pace, he inched his way down my flesh, lips brushing and nipping, until finally he reached my center. His tongue, hot and greedy, sent ripples crashing through me. I whimpered in approval and felt his pleasure wrap around me. Every sensation, touch and emotion intensified. Seconds later his fingers plunged into me. I gasped, clenched the cool sheets, lost in the tide until ripples exploded, electrifying every inch of my being.
Moments went by as I lost myself in the pleasure filled haze of my orgasm. Then suddenly, I was brought abruptly back with the shock of Kane’s unyielding passion to take me. Now. Poised above me, his hands grasping mine, our eyes locked. I lifted my hips in answer.
His eyes never left mine as he reached for a condom. When he entered me, slowly, he relished in the sensation. Locked in his energy, I savored his pleasure of each new shock as we inched together until our hips fused as one. We held still for a long moment. Then our energies merged and I no longer knew where I started and he stopped.
Our bodies moved in rhythm, picking up the pace, faster, higher, deeper. The tension built in hot, urgent waves spreading to my limbs. I cried out with each thrust until suddenly my body spasmed. With a strangled moan, he buried himself in me. I wrapped myself tightly around him, letting the explosion take us together.
Some time later, lying snuggled in the crook of Kane’s arm, my body liquid and tranquil, I kissed his chest lightly. A small tremor ran through his body, and suddenly my soul was wrapped in tenderness and a fierce emotion I could only describe as love. The emotional energy was Kane’s. I felt intrusive and self-conscious all of a sudden and glanced up to find him gazing at me, intent and thoughtful.
“What?” I whispered.
“You feel it, don’t you?”
A chill that had nothing to do with the air-conditioning rippled through me. Had he sensed my ability? Sadness settled in my chest. I wasn’t ready to lose him. I’d bared too much. Trying hard to keep it light, I nipped his lower lip and replied, “The magic?”
“Yes, there’s magic.” He kissed my temple and ran his hand the length of my arm. “I’ve known that since I first met you, but I don’t think you have.”
Relief replaced my fears and I smiled. “I may not have known it, but I’ve certainly felt it.” I demonstrated my feelings by pressing into him as my hand roamed lower, wrapping around the silky shaft, already firming to my touch. He let out a small, strangled moan and pulled me on top of him.
“If you keep that up, you’re likely to kill me,” he said, deftly putting on another condom then sliding into me.
“If you keep that up, I may never leave.”
His hands found my hips, holding me to him as he lifted his lips to mine. “Deal.”
When we’d had our fill of each other, we lay content and motionless in each other’s arms. I closed my eyes, listening to Kane’s breath steadily deepen as he fell effortlessly into sleep. Sighing softly, I snuggled beside him and let the night take me.
Chapter 11
Intruding anger slammed into me. An intense sense of betrayal sent an arrow of pain straight through my heart. I gasped, struggling to breathe. Jealousy filled my being, joined by disbelief and shock. Mr. Sexy stood in front of me, shaking with fury, tears of disappointment in his eyes. A cry ripped from my throat as white-hot splinters of fire shot through my belly, shattering my soul.
“Jade! Jade, wake up. Come on baby, wake up.”
The voice was far away and muted. Through the blur of sleep filled eyes, my brain registered someone hovering over me. I cringed, curling into myself.
“There you are.” he said, his voice tight.
“Kane,” I said softly.
“It’s all right now, just a dream. It was just a dream.” He gathered me to him.
Still full of pain, the tears flowed hot and steady, turning into racking sobs. Kane held me for a long time, murmuring, “I’m here. You’re safe.”
I concentrated on those strong arms encircling me and held on until the tears subsided and the raw stabbing pain in my soul eased to a dull ache. Snuggling closer, I pressed my cheek to his chest and whispered, ‘Thank you.” Sniffling, I added, “I’m sorry.”
Kane handed me a tissue from the box on the nightstand, while he stroked my back. “Sorry for what?”
“This.” I waved a hand around my face. “Not a great way to end the night.” I pulled away, suddenly self-conscious, and wrapped myself in the sheet.
“Morning, you mean.” He nodded toward the pre-dawn light filtering through the open window.
“Oh.”
Kane leaned in and
tilted my chin up. Catching my eye, he gave me a small smile. “This isn’t how we’re ending the morning. Go ahead and take a shower. I’ll make us some breakfast.” He kissed my nose lightly, pulled on his jeans and wandered out of the room.
I let out the breath I’d been holding and fell back onto the bed. What kind of a woman was terrified and reduced to tears by a dream? God, I was an idiot. Emotionally empty and physically battered, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and hobbled off to the bathroom, careful of my still sore ankle.
Scrubbed and pink from the shower, I made my way from the bedroom to the kitchen. I spotted Kane sitting in the breakfast nook at the back of the house. A full wall of windows and French doors led out into a lush courtyard. I stopped at the open doors, taking in the soft morning breeze and vibrant colors. Orange honeysuckle covered one wall, and the large red blossoms of a hibiscus bush bloomed just outside the door.
Kane came up behind me and rested a hand on my shoulder. I leaned into him as his arms came around my waist. Comforted by his touch, I let my mind go blank and willed my soul to soak up his energy. He projected a steady calm, but I could feel it masking nervousness and maybe a bit of weariness. Well, who could blame him? My mind clamped down on the emotional radar. I was intruding and didn’t want to know what else he was feeling.
“You should eat before it gets cold. I made omelets.” Kane stepped back and pulled out a chair for me.
“You did?” I looked at the table for the first time. It was set with a pale yellow tablecloth and a slender vase in the middle, holding pink and white stargazer lilies. “Are those from your courtyard?”
He nodded and settled into the chair next to me.
“They’re gorgeous. Your place is wonderful.” And I meant it.
The ceilings were at least ten feet high with crown molding. All the rooms except the bathroom and kitchen had original wide pine floors, recently resurfaced and gleaming in the morning sun. The nook looked like a picture I’d once seen in an architectural magazine. A bay window was on the left outside wall, complete with a window seat. To the right, an adjoining sun room, separated by a double opening archway, was furnished with indoor white wicker, lots of green plants and a vibrant French Quarter painting. I could happily make that one room my home.
