“Did you bring a bag?” he asks.
“In the car.”
He nods, his blue eyes pinned to mine. “Want some coffee?”
“Please.”
“I brewed a fresh pot right before you called.”
I follow him across the room and into the kitchen, complete with stainless steel appliances and luxury cabinets. I wonder why he never mentioned this place before. He pours me a cup of coffee and I reach around him to grab the mug. Big mistake. As soon as my breasts brush against his back, he goes rigid.
“Serafina.” He spins around and tugs me into his arms.
We’re instantly lip-locked, his tongue buried deep in my mouth. I love the way he tastes. I love the way his hands wander all over my body. I also know how dangerous this all is. Just our kisses alone are enough to confuse me. To rip my bloody heart out and remind me what I was robbed of.
I explore his back with my fingernails, feeling every ripple of muscle through his clothes, detecting the tension in his body. We’re both starving for each other, and it feels so good to be touched. I tip my head sideways, staring into his cool eyes while our kiss gets more intense, our hands bolder. A dark promise glitters in his eyes, and I know if I let him fulfill it, if I open myself up to whatever gets Eagle off, I’ll never be the same.
He breaks the kiss suddenly. “If we keep doing this, Serafina, we won’t make it out the door today.”
I brush my bangs back, feeling my face flush. “I-I know.”
He picks up the mug off the counter. “Here.” He shoves it in my hands.
“Thank you.” I move around him this time, pour some half-and-half in my coffee, then add a teaspoon of sugar. “How long have you had this place?”
“Four years,” he says. “Used to belong to my father.”
He stalks to the far side of the living area and raises the blinds on three floor-to-ceiling windows. “One of the main reasons I bought the place was because of the incredible view of the Red River. My father offered the property to me first; otherwise he was going to put it on the market for twice the price I paid.”
I join him and stare out the windows. Beautiful. The house is situated in a bend of the river; old growth trees hang low along the bank. There’s a patio. “Can we go outside?”
“Sure.” He opens the glass door and gestures for me to step outside first.
A light breeze cools my face. “How much waterfront do you get?”
“Seven hundred feet. There’s a small boathouse over there.” He points and I look. “A hundred acres of virgin land.”
I smile at his choice of words. The land isn’t the only virgin in his presence. And I’m not in the mood to tell him that piece of information—it might freak him out. When we were younger he had every right to press me for sex, but Eagle always told me to wait, to make sure the man I made love with for the first time mattered. So I missed my chance with him. Survival needs wrecked any chance of having a new relationship. Up until now, I’ve relied on myself for sexual relief.
“Do you hunt?” I ask, steering my mind and body away from thinking too much about sex.
He grins at me. “Sure do.”
“What? Deer? Gator?”
“Beaver.”
I smack his chest. “Is that all you think about?”
“When you’re around?” He’s on me again and I don’t stop him.
This kiss is different, hot and mind-bending, possessive and utterly selfish. I can barely breathe. I try not to drop my mug. “E-Eagle . . .” I cut it short this time.
We’re both breathing hard and obviously horny.
“There’s deer, duck, hogs, and pretty much any other wildlife you can think of around here.”
“Do you fish?”
“Every Cajun does.”
“Is that what you are?”’
“Born and bred, cher. Want a tour of the property?”
I take an enthusiastic drink of coffee, weighing my options. Should I seduce him now, or let the frustration build up so when we finally get naked it will be explosive? Time with Eagle is important to me, too. It will make the memory that much sweeter. “Please.”
We walk back into the house and I finish off my drink and set the cup in the sink. Then he leads me outside to a large shed. He opens the barn-like door. There’s three four-wheelers parked inside. “Want to ride alone or with me?”
“With you.”
I wait as he gets one ready. A couple of minutes later, I’m sitting behind him with my arms looped around his waist.
“Hold on tight, cher,” he teases, using the Cajun term of endearment again. “I’d hate to have to peel you off the ground.”
Chapter Seventeen
Eagle
We’ve finished up a three-hour tour of my property, throughout which I constantly battled the urge to pull over and fuck her in the long grass in the warm sunshine, and I’m ready to grab something to eat. After our call yesterday, I decided to give her a little bit of what she asked for, quality time together. I need to see how well we get along outside of the bedroom, too, if we’re going to take this further.
I drive down an access road that runs perpendicular to the highway. There’s a cluster of small houses, a grocery store, a gas station, and a restaurant. The place doesn’t even have a name, but the people are great.
“Where are we?” she asks while climbing off the wheeler.
“See that shack over there?”
“Yeah.”
“Georgie makes the best trout amandine in Louisiana. Interested?” I hope she is, because I plan on spending quite a lot of time at the property, and if Serafina and I are going to see more of each other, I want her to be familiar with the neighborhood.
“Am I? I haven’t had homemade Cajun food in forever. Occasionally, I splurge and make some at home . . .” She stops talking suddenly.
I can’t see her eyes behind those dark sunglasses she’s wearing, but her smile faded. Is she hiding her connection to Louisiana from me? If so, why? I already know she stopped by the Holly Beach Cemetery before going home last Saturday. The more time I spend with Serafina, the more mysterious she gets. But I respect her privacy. I won’t probe her. If she wants me to know something, she’ll tell me.
“Let’s go.”
We walk inside. There’s eight rickety tables in the place. Only two are empty. The owner greets us with genuine enthusiasm.
“Eagle!” He sneaks around the corner from the kitchen, abandoning his post at the stove. “I didn’t expect you back so soon.”
We shake hands.
Georgie gazes at Serafina. “Where did you find this beauty? In a magazine?”
She blushes and smiles. “Nice to meet you, Georgie.”
He gives her a hug. “Did Eagle brag about my sausages?”
“Your Amandine.”
“Good. Good.” He has a thick, French accent.
The last of a dying breed in the backwoods. That’s why I come here whenever I can. I believe in supporting local businesses, the mom-and-pop joints being forced out of business by national chains.
“Pick a table,” he says. “I’ll be right back.”
I choose the corner, away from the windows and other customers. I want to watch Serafina eat with that sexy-as-fuck mouth in private. I swear the girl put a cunja on me. Like some bewitching creature from the bayou, her dark features and tanned skin remind me of everything I love about Louisianan women.
Once we’re seated, she studies me in silence.
“Why Texarkana?”
“Why not?” she shoots back, avoiding the question.
“Tell me three things you like about home.”
“In Texarkana? Thunderstorms. The architecture . . .”
Georgie arrives with a tray in his hands. He plunks down two glasses of red wine and a bucket filled with seasoned crawfish. “Just an appetizer.” He rushes away before I can say anything and comes back with two plates and linen napkins. “Enjoy.”
Serafina dives right i
n. She pulls the shell off the tail and sucks the meat and juices out of the crawfish like any skilled Cajun. My questions are getting answered just by watching her eat. Tourists don’t eat crawfish like a local. As she finishes her third, there’s a spot of juice on her lower lip. I wipe it away with my thumb.
“Do you always eat like that?” I ask, admiring the way her pink tongue traces the seam of her bottom lip. Shit . . . the girl could make eating anything look sexy. I’d like to see what she can do with my cock.
“How do you mean?”
“Like it’s your last meal.”
She giggles. “Wait until you see what I can do with spaghetti and meatballs.”
I follow her lead, digging into the appetizer. We both sip our wine and make small talk about my property and the weather. She rarely says anything about herself, which means she’s either ridiculously humble or hiding something.
Twenty minutes later, Georgie serves us two generous portions of amandine, trout with a lemon butter sauce and topped with toasted, slivered almonds. I shovel a forkful into my mouth and express my satisfaction with a growl.
“Oh my God,” Serafina sings. “It melts in my mouth.”
We finish with cheesecake and raspberry sauce. As I dig money out of my wallet, Georgie returns with the bill. No charge is scribbled across the front. I frown and look up at the old man.
“Come on, Georgie.”
“No. No.” He waves his hands. “Your money is no good here today.”
We just spent two and a half hours in his café. I’m not going to let him get away with it. “All right,” I pretend to give up. “Next time, you charge me double.”
“Next time,” he repeats, “you bring this angel back.”
Serafina makes a funny face when he compliments her. I shrug it off, starting to believe the girl doesn’t know how flawless she is. It won’t take me long to show her once we get back to the cabin. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted a woman more.
She embraces Georgie and thanks him for his generosity. While they’re talking, I drop a hundred-dollar bill on the table. Exceptional food and service deserves to be rewarded.
We exit the resteraunt together and walk to the four-wheeler.
* * *
Eagle parks in the driveway and motions for me to go inside. “Everything you need for a shower is in the bathroom, baby,” he says in a low tone. “Grab your bag and get ready for me, Serafina. I have some work to do around the property first. I’ll be back in a couple hours.”
I can feel him watching me as I get my backpack out of my car. I bend over dramatically, pushing my ass high in the air as I reach for my bag in the back seat. I close my door and turn around and he’s still staring, undisguised hunger in his deep blue eyes.
“See ya soon,” I say casually and saunter to the front door, knowing full well how crazy I’m making him.
Once inside, I rush to the bar for a shot of something strong to settle my nerves. My heart is racing. There’s not even a hint of doubt in Eagle’s stony expression. He knows he’s going to fuck me soon. Where does that kind of confidence come from? That arrogance men only seem to have? I’m fighting to keep it together because I’m about to live out one of my fantasies—to make love to the man I’ve always wanted and take care of that little virgin problem. Hopefully he won’t notice that big elephant in the room.
I find a fresh bottle of Crown Royal and crack it open like an alcoholic. With shaky hands, I pour a shot in a glass. It goes down hard, burning my throat. I’m not a big drinker, but it does what it’s supposed to. I feel steadier. I put the bottle back and turn my attention to the bathroom. I could use a relaxing shower.
Just as he said, there’s an array of feminine shampoos and soaps available in the bathroom closet. Not sure how I should feel about it. How many women has he brought here? Banged here? Jealousy zings through me. In another life, he would have been mine. Not all one percenters are man whores. In fact, when truly in love, brothers are protective and dedicated. And if another man disrespects his lady . . .
I turn the water on in the stand-up shower. It’s a small but clean bathroom, fitting for a hunting lodge. I shed my clothes and climb in, letting the hot water wash away my self-doubt. I have a firm plan. One I can’t deviate from or Eagle will notice I’m a virgin and freak out. Any man would.
My plan? Get buzzed together first. Whiskey relaxes me. Then I’ll wait until dusk or later and make sure the bedroom is dark. We’ll make love, and once he’s asleep, I’ll leave. It’s the safest way, the only option. Yeah, unfortunately, he knows where I live. But I can’t imagine Eagle chasing after a girl who blew him off. If anything, he’ll be glad to be rid of me.
Chapter Eighteen
Eagle
I roll in an hour later than I intended to. I wanted to give Serafina some time to get comfortable. No matter how confident she comes off, I can tell she’s freaking out inside, unsure what do with me. Not only that, I wanted her to miss me a little bit. I had some fencing to mend on the far west corner of the property and it seemed like a good time to do it.
In need of a shower and Serafina’s kissable lips, I trudge inside. I open the front door and am greeted by candlelight and loud music—Led Zeppelin.
The blinds are closed, blocking out what little sunlight is left in the day. It’s well past eight. I scan the dimly lit space for her, hoping she’s close. “Serafina?”
She doesn’t answer. I check the bathroom first. No luck. Then I look in the bedroom. She’s standing near the bed, wearing a black lace bra and panties. She’s incredibly beautiful. There’s a single candle burning on the dresser across the room. It sheds enough light for me to see the finer details of her face and body. The body that’s been in my dreams every night since Lazaro’s bachelor party. The face that could ruin a man if he fell in love with her.
“You’re back,” she whispers.
“I had to mend some fences. We’re trying to keep the wild pigs out of the wetlands.”
I take a step and she doesn’t move.
“I hope you don’t mind me raiding your cabinets. I found dozens of candles.”
She can do whatever the fuck she wants as long as she keeps wearing lace for me.
“And the music . . .”
I take another step.
“Is Led Zeppelin okay?”
She’s the only thing I can see or hear.
“I also raided the bar.” She points to a bottle and two glasses on the nightstand. “Whiskey.”
I don’t need alcohol; I just want to drink her. Suck on those hard nipples and stick my fingers in her tight pussy, which I bet is wet for me. Soaking, fucking wet.
“How long have you been waiting for me, Serafina?”
“In here, you mean?”
“Sure.” We’re a foot apart now.
“An hour or so.”
My gaze slides up and down her body. The gemstone in her belly button ring glimmers in the candlelight. My eyes instantly search for the studs in her nipples. I like body piercings, especially on her. I find what I want to see. “Take off your bra.”
She does.
I suck in a ragged breath. That body deserves to be worshipped. I want to savor every inch of her, starting with her breasts.
“Are you okay?” she asks.
Need ignites inside me, deep and dark, occupying places long dead. Being this close to her, knowing I can have her, changes everything. She’s more than just a piece of ass. I know that after spending the day with her. She’s beautiful and funny, easy to talk to, and wants me as much as I want her. We gaze at each other.
The animalistic side of me surfaces and I grip her hips, then spin her around without saying a word. I whip her long hair to the side, laying siege to the back of her slim neck.
She squirms in my hands as I bite and lick my way downward, across her right shoulder and back. The faint sent of soap and lotion teases me. I love the way she tastes. My left hand slides down her back, landing in the one spot I long to touch the m
ost. I follow the crevice of her ass until I feel the wetness between her legs through her lace panties. She’s so warm, so willing, so fucking hot. I groan her name, knowing I’m about to lose it.
“Serafina,” I say again.
“Eagle?” She tries to turn around, but I hold her in place.
“Not yet.” Not until I give her permission, not until I’m sure I can hold it together.
Those panties need to go. I lower them down her thighs midway, then kneel behind her, my face level with her ass. I caress her smooth, firm cheeks, admiring her curves. I like some flesh here, something to hold onto to. And Serafina doesn’t disappoint. When I kiss the spot right above her ass, she exhales loudly. I do it again. She responds the same way.
I reach up and fist my hand in her long hair and force her head back—getting off on a little domination. She arches her back, offering herself to me. Body language says it all and I react accordingly. Tugging her panties down all the way, I circle my arms around her legs and plaster her to my face, shoving my tongue between her folds, tasting that sweet pussy from behind.
We both stiffen and moan from the shock wave of pleasure. From the moment I saw her standing next to Lazaro’s swimming pool, I wanted to fuck her. Taste her. Possess her for however long I could. My tongue explores farther, finding her swollen clit. She spreads her legs wider, quivering.
I pull back then, admiring her hourglass figure and the way her hair reaches the small of her back. I love curly hair, especially on an Italian goddess. There’s no denying my attraction to fiery-tempered women. This one is exceptional.
I twirl her around, still on my knees. She looks down at me, her eyes dreamy and half closed.
“What are you going to do with me, Eagle?”
Do with you? More like, do to you. I bury my face in her pussy, my tongue and fingers eliciting a scream. Turned on and responsive, she’s as wet as I’d hoped. Slowly, I push her toward the bed. I follow on my knees, not wanting to lose a second between her lush legs.
“Eagle,” her voice is full of need.
I’m lost in her, hearing my name but not paying attention.
One Taste of Angel Page 10
