She looked damn hot—reminded him a little of Sandy from Grease when she went all bad girl at the end—but although she might be dressed like the girls that frequented The Priory, that didn’t mean she was one of them. Looks could be deceiving. But what the hell game was she playing, coming in here looking like that?
She hit him with a smile and he realized his tongue had been hanging out. Dammit. He snapped his mouth shut and glared at her. “What are you doing here?”
Her chirpy expression didn’t falter. “I thought we had a dinner date?”
He made some kind of snort-cum-scoffing noise. “I don’t date, sugar.” And besides, after the little display he’d put on in her gallery this morning, he thought she’d be through with him. He’d sure as hell shown her his true colors.
She raised her eyebrows. “So what was Café Du Monde?”
“I couldn’t sleep. I was horny. I wanted your pussy and I knew the only way to get it was to play nice, but I’m not nice. I thought you saw that today.” It wasn’t entirely true—he’d enjoyed her company as much as her body—but he thought he sounded convincing.
“Maybe I don’t care what I saw today. Maybe I don’t care about your personality; maybe I just want you for your body as well.”
For a second her words shocked him, but then he chuckled. “In my experience, women say stuff like that but in the end, they can’t keep emotions and sex separate.” Although fuck knows why she’d find anything else to like about him.
“I’m not a walking cliché, Travis. I’m not asking for a wedding ring, just more of what we had last night. A lot more.”
“Well, that’s a damn shame, because I’m done with you.” He pretended to go back to what had been keeping him busy on the screen, not daring to look at her for fear she’d see he was lying. It was better this way. For him. And definitely for her.
“Fine. If you want to punish the both of us, then go ahead. I’m not going to beg.” And with that, she turned on those fucking-amazing heels and stalked out into the bar.
Travis closed his eyes and let out a sigh of relief. He didn’t know how long he’d have been able to resist her in that outfit. Especially if she did start to beg. Jesus, the thought made his cock ache. Deciding he needed something stronger than beer to distract him, he stood and headed out into the noisy bar. He weaved through the bartenders and was about to serve himself a bourbon when he saw something out of the corner of his eye that made his blood boil.
“What the fuck?” Instead of walking her pretty little ass back to the gallery, it looked like Billie had bought herself a drink, or someone had bought one for her, and was happily chatting about fuck-knows-what with one of the Quarter’s known dealers. He quickly located Ajax and Blue, informed them of the undesirable loitering in their domain, and then went over to remove Billie before things got ugly.
She yelped in protest the moment he clamped his hand around her arm. “Stop manhandling me. Where the hell do you think you’re taking me?”
Travis didn’t reply until they were out back in The Priory’s private courtyard. “If I was manhandling you, you’d know it.”
Billie glared at him, her breasts heaving up and down—either she was annoyed or out of breath. Maybe both. Either way, he wanted nothing more than to shove his hands up her provocative skirt and cover her mouth with his. Somehow, he summoned all the willpower he possessed and landed his hands on either side of the wall so she couldn’t escape while he read her the riot act.
“Then what the hell are you doing?” she demanded.
“What the hell am I doing?” She was priceless. Totally naïve. “I’m rescuing you from getting raped. Or worse.”
She blinked. “Isn’t that my business? And anyway, what makes you any better than that dude?”
“Are you doing this to make me jealous?” His fists curled and he forced a couple of deep breaths, then dropped his hands to his sides and took a step back.
“Is it working?” She licked her lips and it almost pushed him over the edge.
“Go home.” He nodded in the direction of the gallery. “Go back to where you belong and forget about me. You don’t fit in a place like this, no matter what you’re wearing.” Although The Priory was no longer officially associated with bikers, it was one of the rougher bars on Bourbon Street. The tourists that ventured inside these walls were out for a good time, whatever the cost. “Here women are toys unless they’re property. We’re animals, and right now we’re in the middle of a war.”
“Are you trying to scare me?” She lifted her chin high and met his gaze head on.
Hell yes, that was exactly what he was trying to do. For his sake as much as for hers. Fucking her had been stupid enough once, but sleeping with her again would be crazy as well as dangerous. Because what if one more night wasn’t enough? Quite aside from the fact that he was a lone wolf, she was too good for the likes of him.
He sighed, deciding to use a different tack. “You’d be stupid if you weren’t scared. I’m trying to give you an out; I’m trying to fucking protect you. From me and whatever bad comes with me. You and me, sweetheart, we’re from different worlds. You’re here to bring happiness to tourists, to give them a bright and shiny memory of New Orleans. I’m here to enact justice for an old friend, nothing more. As soon as I’ve done my job I’m out of here. And I’m not gonna pretty things up for you. Blood will likely be spilled, and I don’t want you to get caught in the crossfire of any of that shit.”
“It’s not working.” She smiled. “The fact that you care about what happens to me only makes me want you more.”
And then, before he could anticipate what she was about to do, before he could tell her he didn’t care, she pressed up on her toes, clamped her hands around his head and yanked him against her. Their lips met and she shoved her tongue inside his mouth with a ferocity he hadn’t thought her capable of. She took control, sliding her hands down his back and into his jeans, cupping his buttocks in a vise-like grip. It was sexy as hell. And no matter the sirens sounding in his head, he wasn’t man enough to resist.
The switch he’d been barely keeping control of since she’d come into the office wearing fuck-me shoes and not much else flicked. He’d done his best. He’d tried damn hard to warn her, but she was a stupid little girl who couldn’t take no for an answer. Maybe it was his duty to teach her a lesson.
He stepped up even closer, pushing her back against the cool, hard wall of The Priory, his cock already hard and threatening to break out of his jeans. As he took control of the kiss, biting her lip and then tasting her right down to her cleavage, he unbuckled his belt and freed himself. Billie squeaked like a frightened mouse, but within seconds she reached out and wrapped her hand around him. The feeling was intense. Stronger than anything he’d ever felt. Her simple touch—she’d barely even moved her hand—sent a jolt of pleasure right to his core. But no, this was about showing her what kind of man he was. He yanked her hand off of him, shoved her skirt up around her waist as he’d been fantasizing and then tore at the scrap of lace that covered her sex. Ripping it hadn’t been his intention, but her panties came off in his hands and he scrunched them up and stashed them in his pocket.
Then he brushed his fingers across her mound, slipping into the silky folds between her legs, and found her hot and wet. She moaned at his touch and then looked at him with wide-open, desperate eyes when he removed his hand.
“Travis?” Her voice sounded panicky.
In reply, he put his hands on her hips, lifted her up and pinned her against the wall. Her legs looped around his waist and he drove into her, fast, furious, taking everything he wanted, everything he needed. He thought she was at his mercy, but the way she clung to his back, her nails digging through his thin T-shirt into his skin, turned him on like nothing else. Tomorrow he would have her mark on his skin. Not to mention the fact that they were doing it in an almost public place, something he hadn’t done in years. He didn’t know who he was at the moment, whether it was fucking Billie t
hat was making him crazy or he was fucking her because he’d already gone insane.
But he couldn’t get enough of this. Of her. In that moment nothing else mattered—not Priest’s murder, not his mother, not getting back to Tallahassee. Only Billie. He thrust harder, her core muscles tightened around his cock and they both flew over the edge at the same time.
Afterward, his heart pounding, he held her against him—his hands on her ass, his cock still inside her and her head resting on his shoulder. And he didn’t want to move. He didn’t want to talk or think about their differences, think about anything really. He simply wanted to scoop her up into his arms and take her back to her bedroom and do this over and over again.
Then it hit him. Holy fuck. “We didn’t use a condom.”
As he slid out of her and deposited her gently back on the ground, she shrugged and straightened her skirt. “I’m on the pill. And no matter who you say you are, I know you’re not stupid.”
Meaning she knew he didn’t have unsafe sex with just anyone. This truth unsettled him even more. While he’d been fucking her against the wall, he’d never once thought of protecting either of them. What the hell was that about? Maybe he’d underestimated Billie. Maybe she was more of a vixen than he’d given her credit for, because she didn’t seem at all worried about doing it in the open air. In fact, her face almost glowed and her eyes were wild, as if she was ready to go at it again.
Why did he feel like he was the one who’d been taught a lesson?
Chapter 11
“You know I’m not staying,” Travis told Billie. It was hours after they’d left The Priory and they were lying in her bed, legs entwined and his arms wrapped around her in a post-sex haze. They’d made love, then dozed, then made love some more. Just when she’d thought she could never move again, let alone have sex, he’d done something else with his fingers or tongue that had proved her wrong and had her squirming for him again.
“I know,” she whispered back, not meeting his gaze, hoping he didn’t hear the quiver in her voice. However crazy the notion, she felt like she was halfway in love with him and didn’t want to dwell on the moment when he’d inevitably walk out of her life. It was ridiculous to think he’d ever stick around and too much to hope that someone as independent and damaged as he was would ever ask her to go with him back to Tallahassee. And what would she do in such a place anyway? Her gallery, her new life in which she put her own happiness before the convenience of others, was right here in New Orleans and she loved it. “Let’s just make the most of the time you are here.”
“If you’re sure.” He snuck his fingers into her hair and massaged the nape of her neck.
Right now, she wasn’t sure about anything except his touch. And of that she wanted to get as much as he was willing to give. “I am. Although next time you and your brothers are talking, it’d be good if you could discuss your plans for this building, because I feel a little in limbo at the moment. If I’m going to have to move out, I need to start looking for a new space.”
Her chest tightened at the thought. Lord knew how she’d ever find something as suitable or affordable in the French Quarter again, but thinking about her livelihood was easier than thinking about her heart and the mess it would be in when Travis left.
He sighed and put his thumb against her chin, encouraging her head upward so she had to look into his eyes. And they were such beautiful eyes. All dark and stormy and sensual. “Ajax and Blue are focused on other things right now.”
She nodded. “I know, Priest’s murder, but—”
“But—” He cut her off. “I don’t want you to worry. Before I leave I’ll make sure you’re looked after. Once we’ve avenged Priest, they’ll be in a better place and more amenable. We’ll work something out.”
A shiver snuck through Billie’s body at the word avenge. Really, what had she gotten herself into? Her head thought her insane, but her body didn’t give a damn about whatever Travis was involved in as long as he kept going down on her. What kind of person did that make her?
“Thank you,” she whispered, finding that she trusted he would stay true to his word.
“How did you get the gallery started anyhow?” he asked.
“It was a case of pure luck and a lot of determination,” she confessed. “I had some money from my divorce and I met a couple of artists on the street, displaying their work in much the same manner as buskers. At that stage I wasn’t really sure what I wanted to do with my life, but I knew I’d like to stay in New Orleans. I kept thinking about how great it would be to have a place to showcase some of the artists I’d met, and then one day I was walking down Bourbon Street and saw the for lease sign on the gate.”
Travis frowned. “Priest wanted to rent it out?”
Billie shrugged. “I guess. It said to enquire next door at The Priory, so I went and chatted with Sophie, who introduced me to her dad. I remember thinking he was the scariest-looking dude I’d ever seen, but he was lovely to me. He seemed to think it amusing that I wanted to use the building as an art gallery, but then muttered something about it being empty long enough and agreed to lease it to me anyway. I’ve been here just under a year, and it didn’t take me as long as I thought to build up my group of artists.”
Billie expected more questions, but Travis simply nodded, then kissed her again. Although talking with him was easy, the touch of his lips made her forget about the gallery, forget about everything except the taste of him.
She’d thought he’d extricate himself once he’d finished with her for the night, so she was surprised to wake up with the sun peeking through a gap in her curtains and Travis’s arm draped across her chest. Her nipples hardened at the realization, at the delicious feel of his bare arm resting on top of them. She turned her head slowly and smiled at the sight before her, experiencing an intense urge to stroke her fingers across his jawline, to touch the stubble of his beard. Yet he’d wake the moment she did so and although she liked the idea of what might follow when he did, she wanted to record this moment in more than just her memory.
She barely breathed as she slithered out from under his arm with the skill of Houdini and tiptoed across the floor so as not to wake Baxter, who’d been slumbering alongside them. Some guard dog, she thought as she escaped down the corridor with a smile.
Less than a minute later she was back with her sketch pad and box of charcoal. She perched herself on the little dresser stool she’d bought from a local secondhand shop, then opened the pad and retrieved a piece of charcoal. All the while, man and dog remained dead to the world.
For the next half hour, Billie’s fingers were busy filling the paper with the lines and contours of Travis’s amazing body and heart-stopping face. She didn’t think she’d ever be able to quite do him justice, but was still more than happy with her efforts. Lost in the world of her art, she jolted when Travis spoke.
“What are you doing?” His voice sounded gravelly, sexy from sleep, yet she didn’t know if he’d be pleased with her answer. Generally she asked her subjects’ permission before immortalizing them, but she hadn’t been able to help herself.
“Sketching.” She swallowed, her grip tightening on the charcoal. “Drawing you.”
He raised one eyebrow, and for a second her heart halted and the charcoal shook in her fingers. Would he be angry about this? But then he spoke again, and the tone of his voice and expression on his face said he was anything but. “Can I see?”
Now she was filled with a different kind of nerves. She hadn’t drawn anything for anyone else’s eyes in a very long time; hell, she’d barely even drawn at all until this last week. “It’s not very good.” She hugged the sketch pad to her chest, self-conscious about her nakedness and her art.
“Let me be the judge of that.” He pushed up into a sitting position and patted the empty space on the mattress beside him. Her mouth went dry at the sight of all his tattoos and she wondered if she’d ever get over how they made her feel. Was it just his tattoos? Or would any guy covered
in ink do it for her? He was the first man she’d ever slept with that had body art.
“Come on,” he whispered encouragingly.
She realized she’d been staring and forced herself up off the stool and over to him. As she sat on the mattress, Travis pulled her over so she was right up next to him. He wrapped one arm around her and put his other hand on her bare knee as she revealed the sketch to him.
“Fuck, that’s good. You are one talented minx, aren’t you?”
She turned her head to look at the expression of awe on his face and a buzz shot through her. He meant it. “It’s just a bit of fun,” she said with a shrug. How could she tell him that he made drawing easy without giving away the fact that she was falling for him? That looking at him and being with him inspired her like nothing had before. Last night she’d lied when she told him she just wanted him for his body, but she didn’t want to scare him away.
“No.” His tone was forceful. “As much as I don’t like the idea of me hanging on the gallery wall next to a bunch of fairy-tale rabbits and dinnerware no less, this is amazing. You’ve included so much detail. And…” He paused a moment, then shrugged. “I’m not sure how to explain it, but it’s like you’ve captured my soul or something instead. Shit, listen to me. What have you done to me?”
Fire Me Up Page 14
