Southern Spirits

by Edie Bingham

  ‘Cat, you’re not on the train now, you can’t just go out like that!’

  ‘No? Better come out and get me then.’ She took a step out, then looked back at him and smiled mischievously. ‘It’s bucketing out here. No one’s looking up. Besides, we’re in New Orleans. Take it easy.’

  The balcony itself was small, with just enough room for two chairs, and was surrounded by black wrought-iron railings in elaborate designs and potted foliage that Cat felt offered sufficient cover – unless and until someone looked at them from a window across the street. It was scarcely cooler out here than inside, despite the rain and the mild breeze.

  Cat rested her forearms on the balcony rail and looked down, seeing an old man sitting on a box under a balcony across the street. He was playing a guitar, with an upturned hat at his feet. She leant in, trying in vain to hear his music over the sound of the rain pounding into the street and on the surrounding roofs. Despite her own assurances, it was scary – and thrilling.

  She braced her feet in her heels, slightly apart, hearing Nathan draw behind her. ‘We should leave out any reference to Belle, the hotspots –’

  ‘That’s a given, if we want to keep our new appointments.’ Nathan’s hands gripped her as if she’d fall off the balcony, his hips and bulge pressed against the smooth swell of her buttocks. ‘And what about the sex?’

  Heat and sweat rolled from her shoulders, down her breasts and over her belly. She pushed back against him. ‘Dios, yes, or we’ll give those pajieros back in Miami endless inspiration.’

  Nathan’s erection rubbed at the cleft between her buttocks, as his mouth moved back to her ear. ‘Like that business in the Dungeon, when I was forced to tie you up, spank you, and then –’

  ‘I know the rest. “Forced”, huh?’ As she leant further on the railing, her breasts threatening to spill out of her bra and over her arms, she smiled, as she seemed to catch the attention of the old man. ‘I’d better also leave out the incident in the sauna as well, where Tara and I were naked and fucking on the floor.’

  ‘Actually,’ he was murmuring, ‘I was hoping you could write that up and let me have a copy.’

  ‘Why am I not surprised? Men.’ She felt Nathan kneel down out of sight behind her, kiss the backs of her legs, his fingers trailing ahead of him to her rear. She grinned to the street below as he drew down her panties to her knees, the tip of his tongue dancing along the strip of skin between her cheeks, playing with the entrance to her rear. She thrust back against his face. ‘Get off that. You’ve had too much of my ass this weekend.’

  ‘I can never have enough,’ he declared, rising back to his feet.

  ‘Oh yeah? I’ll buy a strap-on and let you find out for yourself – fuck!’ Cat felt herself pressed hard up against the rail, its cold, wet metal struts pressing against the front of her thighs, as Nathan’s hand reached around to her bush, her puffy sex, and he growled in her ear. Standing this close, she could smell him again, tangy and musky and rough.

  She parted her thighs further as his hand slipped between them, one long, short-nailed finger probing up into her hot wetness. She adjusted her position slightly, giving him better access, the lips of her pussy throbbing hotly. His hard, curved finger slid in and out of her slowly, teasingly, as his other hand rested on the back of her neck, keeping her in place. She gripped the balcony rail, leaning further forwards until the rain just about caught the top of her head, steadily soaking her hair as Nathan fingered her on the balcony of a New Orleans hotel. Her pussy was deliciously hot and hungry for satisfaction, enjoying his finger but aching for the irreplaceable fullness that only his erect cock could bring.

  ‘Fuck!’ she called out again, straightening up and pulling up her panties, not caring who saw her breasts. ‘Let’s get to bed!’

  She spared a final glance at the man across the street, who had evidently heard her, to judge from his laughter. Then she disappeared back into the room with Nathan, leaving the balcony doors open. She unclipped her bra and slipped out of her panties, as Nathan removed his own briefs. The mattress springs creaked as she lay back, and her eyes rolled at the noise.

  ‘I hope that doesn’t put you off,’ he said with a smile as he looked down at her.

  ‘Me? No. I’m just feeling sorry for our neighbours. They won’t get any sleep tonight.’

  ‘You’re such a saint.’ He brought the hand that had been at her sex to his mouth, taking in her scent, tasting her juices on his finger. He smacked his lips, increasing Cat’s own hunger as she cupped her breasts, her thumbs touching the crests of her nipples, circling, pinching and rolling them, adding to that desperate need pounding through her body.

  He bent down at the bedside to engulf one of her nipples in his mouth, sucking hard and making her cry out. She swept upwards, her cry becoming a moan as she was tossed into an intense whirlpool of sensation, parting her thighs further as he climbed up onto the bed, his hand returning to her sex. His mouth was hot, and his tongue licked her breasts like a flame, the lightest touch a shock. He swept it around each nipple, as his fingers brushed between her folds in long wide upward strokes. Cat found herself so sensitive that she was gasping as she felt him move downwards. He parted her thighs as his mouth replaced his fingers, licking her, piercing her, before moving up to her clitoris, pressing it back just as his fingers had done moments before. But his tongue was a hot and sticky thing, feeling more organic, more alive, than his finger had, and it was as if the tempo of its pulse transferred itself to her, increasing the pressure, the pleasure.

  An orgasm broke free from Cat. She cursed, her head pressing back against the goose-down pillow, her hands reaching out to grip his hair, as his tongue and lips conspired to keep her on that pinnacle for as long as she could stand it.

  It seemed ages before she started drifting down again. But she became aware of Nathan rising above her, up on his knees, licking his lips and watching her with undisguised lust.

  Cat looked up at him from under her dishevelled hair, focusing on his cock, glad that it hadn’t lost its firmness while he was orally pleasuring her. She licked her lips. ‘Agent Ames, that piece looks dangerous, you’d better holster it. Think you can find a place for it?’

  ‘I’ve got one just in mind.’ With a wicked laugh, he was upon her, lifting her legs up and guiding his cock towards her.

  Cat wriggled on the mattress, providing as much ease as she could for him penetrating her – only to find it wasn’t needed, as she felt so wet, the walls of her sex gripping him and maximising sweet resistance. ‘Come on, just let go. We’re gonna be stuck here for a while.’

  He began pumping in and out of her, Cat gripping him, overwhelmed by the ferocity of his pistoning. Her mind seemed to envelop him as well as her sex and limbs, and her senses focused towards their joined sexes, like light through a lens. She stared upwards at the ceiling fan, one like on the train, in the visions of Belle in her younger days. A part of her wondered if Nathan and she had added any hotspots of their own during their time on Belle. Maybe, if Belle’s still running fifty years from now, someone could experience what they had and thought and felt this weekend.

  It was strange, but even as her body was riding with Nathan’s, relishing the sex, the closeness and security, her mind was active, wondering how much of what had happened onboard Belle really happened. She could imagine her mind already coming up with rational and faux-rational explanations for it all, anything that was better than the idea of spirits guiding hers and Nathan’s and everyone else’s actions. And, being away from the influence of the train, it became easier. There were remarkable coincidences, yes, but only so many –

  Suddenly, thunder made one of the framed photos overhead drop to the bed, nearly hitting her. ‘cabrón!’

  Nathan stopped pumping. ‘You OK, Cat?’

  She followed. ‘Yes. Fucking thing.’ She lifted it up, set it standing on the adjacent side table, and looked up at him as he chuckled at her. ‘Have you stopped for the night then, pajiero?’


  Nathan’s lips curled into a smile, and he flexed his cock inside her, making her curse again as he began thrusting back into her, his lips at her neck, his arms wrapped around her, trapping her and keeping her as if by some slim chance she might have wanted to go elsewhere.

  Cat let her body return to that sweet rhythm she shared with her lover, even as her eyes drew back to the picture, an old black and white photo featuring what Cat clearly recognised as the front of their hotel.

  There was a young couple, the young man’s arms wrapped around the woman’s.

  Val and Enrique.

  This hotel was Val’s father’s club, or used to be.

  There were coincidences in life, but . . . getting a room here? Had Belagrís arranged the storm, arranged the reservation here, of all places in the city? Just to remind Cat of the power of the Southern Spirits around her?

  Dios, wait until she told Nathan!

  Later.

  Cat ground her pelvis against Nathan’s, exerting as much pressure on her clitoris as she could in this position. Her body had carried on while her mind had been distracted and now it was beginning to lose control. The moment had taken over, and Cat’s whole being was trying to pull him closer, closer, further into her body, until the spasms that she could not and would not hold back any longer swept over her, and her head jerked backwards into the pillow, cursing with each bullet he spurted into her.

  In the distance, a train sounded its departure.

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  Version 1.0

  Epub ISBN 9780753516188

  www.randomhouse.co.uk

  This edition published in 2008 by

  Black Lace

  Thames Wharf Studios

  Rainville Rd

  London W6 9HA

  Copyright © Edie Bingham 2008

  The right of Edie Bingham to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  www.black-lace-books.com

  ISBN 978 0 352 34180 8

  All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

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