BayouBabe99er (BookStrand Publishing Romance)

by Mickie Sherwood

  A horn tooted.

  It was Drake. The passenger-side window of his car glided down. “Hop in.” Amusement crossed his face at her perturbed expression. “Come on, Sharlene. I don’t bite.”

  She rolled her window down.

  “Let me try it once more.” The rain nearly soaked her. So, she took cover behind the glass once again. Sharlene’s insides quivered as her wrist twisted to turn the key. “Shoot!” Could she bear the ride beside him? She lowered the window again. “I’ll just wait at Clyde’s for Uncle Moot.”

  Woman power sent the window flying back up.

  Drake was out in the downpour and next to her door before her lips shut. “That’s crazy. You don’t know how long he’ll be gone.”

  She gazed through the glass.

  “This liquid sunshine is mighty wet.” He opened the door without her permission. “Grab your things.”

  Here she was—acting like a bashful schoolgirl. The insistent hand on her elbow goaded her out of the truck. She held on to all of her paraphernalia as she made the dash from plastic to leather. Sharlene peered at Drake’s profile when he joined her and took off.

  The rain didn’t let up during the twenty-minute ride. As a matter of fact, the sky opened up, pouring out buckets of water. Drake parked across the walkway directly in front of the steps. Sharlene took that as her cue and bailed from the car.

  “Thanks, Drake.” She hustled up the steps trying to dodge the wet drops. “See you later.” Sharlene heard the motor purr as he headed off. Then the slam of his car door jerked her around. Big mistake, for her foot skidded on the slippery surface.

  His rush to the rescue landed both of them on his back, flat out in the mud. Air whooshed from his lungs as he squeezed out, “Are you hurt?”

  Her breath caught in her throat. But it wasn’t from the blow of the landing. She lay spread-eagle on his rock solid frame. Every time his chest rose, her intake of breath failed from the force.

  However, she managed a breathy murmur. “No. Are you?”

  Neither moved a muscle as the rain continued to pelt them. “You forgot your purse,” he explained as the reason for his delay.

  Sharlene relished the feel of his taut body as her softness draped all over him. She delighted when his muddy hands cupped her cheeks to draw her lips to his. Offering no resistance, she first tasted the watery grit before the sweet flavor of his seeking tongue. She lost herself in the moment, reciprocating his actions with fervor. There was no doubt about it. He broke down barriers she’d erected to maintain her sanity after her divorce. So what was she to do now that the natural urges suppressed for an eternity were unleashed?

  Chapter Nine

  The question rattling around in Sharlene’s head soon had an answer. Drake’s hands slid from her face to her shoulders, from her shoulders to the small of her back. He cradled her gently while shifting his weight until they lay side by side on the saturated earth. The kiss shared got longer—deeper. She didn’t shy away from feelings heated to the boiling point. The loud thunderclap warned of lightning that struck too close for comfort. The sky briefly illuminated. Yet, that was no comparison to the explosions she experienced.

  Water poured from the sky like the clouds ripped open at the seams.

  She couldn’t help herself. He filled her to capacity as she wallowed in his masculine hold. The only reason she broke away was to allow space due to the unexpected, heady contact. And—also, she had to give her body time to recover from the obvious distress of being so close to him.

  The torrential rainstorm nearly drowned them.

  Now untangled from his body, Sharlene endured Drake’s grip under her arms that lifted her to her feet. She started up the steps to the porch at his nudge. Debris was flicked from her hands before she nervously searched her purse for the keys and unlocked the door. A look over her shoulder at the clapping sound Drake made as he shook off the excess mud let her see him begin to retrace his steps to the yard. Her voice stopped him.

  “Where’re you going?”

  “Get out of these wet clothes.”

  He was filthy all because of her clumsiness. “I caused the mess. I’ll clean it up.” She opened the door wider. “Come on in.”

  Both dripped their way inside where she turned on a soft light to shoo away the dimness. Sharlene kept on to the back of the house returning with a robe held by her fingertips. Drake responded to the handoff as she skirted him to take the adjacent hall that swallowed her up in darkness. “Help yourself to a shower,” she yelled. “Towels are in the overhead cabinet.”

  The way that exchange went baffled him. Why didn’t she make the offer face-to-face? Was she angry? Was he mistaken about her reaction to that mind-blowing kiss? Drake mumbled loud enough for his voice to carry as he stepped into the bathroom. “Thanks.”

  Sharlene reappeared just as he shut himself in. “You’re welcome. Toss your things out, and I’ll start the washer.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” he called through the closed door.

  “I know.” She hung out on the other side.

  “Show me to the washroom when I’m finished.” He began to disrobe.

  “Just do as I ask, please, Drake. The sooner the wash is done, the faster your clothes will be dry and you on your way.”

  His head peeped out at Sharlene, who now wore a cinched robe that did little to disguise her curvaceous, mature figure. Their eyes locked. Drake dropped his bundle at her feet. His rapid retreat put him in reach of the shower faucets.

  When she heard the water running, Sharlene thought it best to put distance between them. The storm’s tempest was evident from her vantage in front of the window. Tree limbs bowed under the gale force winds. The howling sound invaded her space. Yet it wasn’t enough to eclipse the beating water from Drake’s shower.

  Sharlene’s mind wandered where it didn’t belong. She absently walked over to retrieve his soiled clothes. The washer cranked up, the gush of cold water adding to the already noisy background. Maybe doing something with her hands would occupy her mind. So she moved on to the kitchen sink, turned on the cold water, washed her hands, and let it run while she emptied the coffee basket. She was in the process of rinsing the pot when the yowl went up in the bathroom.

  She slapped the faucet off.

  “What happened?” she screamed in alarm while rushing to Drake’s aid. Sharlene burst into the bathroom without knocking precisely the moment he slung the shower curtain aside.

  Drake charged out in all his glory, visibly shaken and as red as a lobster on his right shoulder. “You tell me.” He winced while grabbing at his injured arm.

  “I don’t know.” Sharlene had a difficult time keeping her eyes on his face and not his bare, bronzed body. Coming to her senses, she grabbed the robe at the same time his wits returned.

  Drake snatched the bath towel to shield his naked body. “If I didn’t know better”—he wrapped it as he spoke—“I’d say your uncle tried to boil me alive.”

  Sharlene liked his teasing tone of voice. It helped lighten the mood.

  “That looks pretty painful.” She stepped nearer to finger the area. “We’d better put a cool towel on that right away.”

  There was no way around it. Sharlene’s soft touch ignited Drake’s fire. He made the rash decision to pull her into his arms. His hand traveled up her back to control the tilt of her head. His fingers slid through the softness of her curls.

  Sharlene participated fully in the all-consuming kiss. Then realization struck. She pushed off, surprised at his crushing hold before he let go. She was engulfed by his smoky stare. “I need a bath first.” The very idea she uttered “first” spoke volumes.

  The constantly running water beat a cadence behind them. Drake brushed passed, leaned to twist the stopper in the tub, and tested the water temperature. “It’s not too hot, now.”

  The buffer she tried to provide by moving aside as he raised up was futile. His look sizzled the closer he came in her direction. Sharlene swallowed
—hard—at the touch of his lips now on hers. Her hands braced on his chest.

  “Unlike me,” he moaned.

  His raspy words stoked her snuffed-out embers that were beginning to glow again. However, having been inactive for quite some time, she hedged. “Maybe we shouldn’t, Drake.”

  “Why not?”

  She fidgeted as his lips nuzzled the hollow of her neck. “Short acquaintance. Family history.” Her arms wound around his neck of their own volition. “Take your pick.” His head lifted. His black eyes smoldered.

  “All genuine concerns.”

  “But more important is the epidemic in the Black community. I value my life.”

  “As do I,” he soothed. “I’m a thirty-four-year-old man, Sharlene.” He continued with a dry laugh. “That doesn’t necessarily equate to being a fool.”

  Confirmed age difference. Add that to the list of “why nots.”

  Sharlene allowed Drake to twiddle with her fingers while his amorous gaze acknowledged to her that he got her drift. She enjoyed the thrilling sensations coursing through her bloodstream. The fact he drew her bath created a tingling feeling in the most private of places. She relented without hesitation when his hands brushed her robe from her shoulders. He assisted her into the tub.

  Any concern for his scalded shoulder vanished as other things took precedence.

  He crouched beside the bathtub, dragging his hand in the water to evenly distribute the heat. An inadvertent touch—and sparks flew. Neither of them could manage a dignified reaction. Drake’s audible moan sounded with his next move. She clung to him when he scooped her up, sopping wet and all, snatched his wallet from the sink, and with determined steps, carried her from the bathroom.

  Her dripping body puddled water at his feet when he stopped in the middle of the common room.

  Sharlene’s pliant form matched the aroused expression on her face. She recognized the burning intensity of his look. And—felt it, too, in his clutch. Her simple finger point had Drake flying in the right direction to her bedroom.

  The blaze couldn’t be contained for the lid was off. The fire raged.

  Drake’s hands were everywhere even as he made himself ready. His fleeting embraces sizzled wherever he touched, stopping Sharlene’s breath. The glorious sensations revved up her responses. He became more than an acquaintance. At that moment, the connection was undeniable, the treat immeasurable.

  It was Sharlene’s turn to enrapture Drake. She trailed her fingertips up and down his spine, drawing a guttural sound. Her mouth pressed the skin on his sore shoulder, and she felt his trembles. Her lips streaked across his chest on their way to the throbbing vein in his neck. The knee she positioned against his inner thigh sent shockwaves rippling through him.

  The delightful benefits were hers to enjoy as Drake asserted his skills at lovemaking with masterful finesse. Sharlene laid claim to her own special moves that drove him wild. An immense pleasure encompassed her as she endeavored to make up for the long nights spent alone and celibate. The tempest inside rivaled the raging storm on the other side of the closed bedroom door as the surge built within. She was recharged every time his groan accompanied the powerful thrusts that elevated her higher and higher toward the realm of satisfaction.

  Chapter Ten

  BayouBabe99er with a surprising turn of events in the Gulf. It gets more complicated every day. Oil is less evident in the water around the rigs. Not so the bayous and canals surrounding the small communities. You don’t see anything about that on the evening news, do you? Let the games really begin. Now you see it. Now you don’t. More to come.

  Sharlene’s contortionist move let her slip out of her robe and back into Drake’s grasp without waking him. The early darkness pervaded, playing up the eerie noises made by the wind and rain. His rhythmic breathing was a complement to the encroaching sound. He looked so peaceful. She hated to disturb him.

  “Wake up.”

  Drake stirred at her command. “I am awake.”

  She thoroughly enjoyed his constant caress of her upper arm. It planted ideas in her head. Those same ideas were obvious in his mind-reading eyes.

  “Have been for about the amount of time it took you to…post.”

  “Your clothes are dry.” She ignored his probe. “If you know like me, you’d get moving before Uncle Moot gets in.”

  “I’m not afraid of your uncle.”

  She mocked. “You should be. He has it in for you, remember?”

  The fact they lay on one pillow was testament to how comfortable she was with what transpired between them.

  “I can handle Melvin Mouton,” he bragged. “The problem is his niece.” Drake tapped her playfully on the tip of her nose.

  “Good thing she’s not your concern, Drake.”

  “She is if she insists on bringing unwanted attention to herself.” He cut her off just as her lips parted. “Save your breath if you’re about to deny it.”

  Sharlene braced up on her elbow with a hand under her chin. The man watching her, all of a sudden, looked so serious. The expression was similar to the one he wore in the boat that day. He had no right to look at her that way.

  “I don’t have to justify a thing to you, Drake.” Sharlene disengaged in preparation to leave his side. His steel-banding arms locked around her.

  “You’re right. It’s just—” He stopped midsentence.

  “Just what?” She pressed the issue. “Just a little thing called conflict of interest?” Then she had a heart-wrenching thought. “Was this your way of getting me to shut up? To clear the path for the crooks in your company to continue to pad their pockets at the expense of the people here?”

  Sharlene pulled from Drake’s embrace.

  “Sharlene, you know that’s not true!” His features furrowed, alerting her to his hurt feelings.

  “I don’t know anything,” she blasted, leaving the bed and only getting as far as the door. “I don’t even know you.” Her hand hadn’t twisted the knob before her body was entrenched in his stranglehold.

  Drake raked his lips over her cheek on his way to nibbling her ear. The breath she released filtered softly across his hairy chest. Sharlene panted. The throbbing changes in his body answered her unspoken desires, confirming that he, too, fought the same war.

  “You now know more than anyone has since…since—”

  Feathery wisps of air fanned her ear from his failure to continue. Drake’s light kisses to the tender spot at the base of her jaw jolted her.

  “I came to the bayou to help, not get caught up in a net. But here I am…snared…hook, line, and sinker.”

  “I’m not going to stop,” Sharlene uttered. “Nothing you can do to make me.”

  “I love a challenge.” He steered her toward the bed.

  His whispered words drenched her, causing her imagination to roam. “Oh, no you don’t.” Her feet became stone blocks. A look into his face and her knees quaked. The intimacy gleaming in his eyes tripped her heart. Sharlene called on every fiber of her being to regain self-control.

  “Fine.” He crawled back into bed where he threw the covers aside for her. “Let’s talk.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding!”

  “Come on. I don’t bite.” A sly grin spread across his face. “Well, maybe, just a little.”

  “Uncle Moot warned me,” she admitted. “I just wouldn’t listen.”

  “Tell me about your Uncle Moot.” Drake patted the bed, and Sharlene sat but remained on guard.

  “He’s a pushover for his family.” She looked at him from under her lashes. “Could skin and gut you before you felt the first slit of his filet knife.”

  “My kind of man.”

  Sharlene relaxed just a bit. “He’s lived here for as long as I can remember. Never married. Simply eked out a life he found rewarding.”

  “You, however, contracted the wanderlust, I suppose. Wanted to see the world. Taste new things.”

  She added to his list. “Meet new people. See amazing wonders. Chas
e the American dream.” Sharlene shut up.

  “Did you?”

  “Did I what?”

  She lay opposite him, her feet to his head. Drake pulled the bedcovers askew to partially cover their nude bodies. Propped up on a pillow, he tossed the other to her.

  “Catch up to the American dream?”

  Sharlene smiled a dreamy smile. “I did. And—I have two beautiful children to prove it.” Again, almost as soon as the words hit the air, she regretted them.

  “Don’t be sorry.” Drake beat her to the punch. “Losing my wife and baby will always be with me. But I’m not so sensitive that I begrudge you your piece of the American pie.”

  Sharlene studied him. “I hope you’re someday able to fill that hole in your heart, Drake.”

  “I’m working on it, Sharlene.” His eyes devoured her.

  “This is a dangerous game you’re playing, you know that, right?”

  “Game?”

  Sharlene beat the pillow in agitation before settling back down, again. “Pretending interest in the people to smooth over deceptive practices.”

  “People? Or one person in particular?”

  “I’m not talking about me. We are a means to an end. We ended the other’s bout with loneliness…not to mention the intimacy dry spell.”

  Beautiful white teeth flashed as his lips twitched into a crooked smile. He didn’t say a word. She watched him watch her from his angled position. There wasn’t a doubt he memorized every inch of her body for future reference.

  “Stop it! You make me feel like a piece of meat.”

  “Sweetmeat. You definitely have that ‘Whip Appeal’”—he paused—“to quote Babyface.”

  She responded with an uncontrolled giggle. There was that schoolgirl attitude he brought out in her. “Like you know anything about Babyface.”

  “I might have been in high school at the time. But I remember how the girls loved his songs.” His hand slipped under the cover. “The guys—well, they thought he was spineless.” He connected with her ankle. “I tried to tell them he was cool…had his thing together.” Drake’s long fingers traveled up her smooth calf.