Some are dressed like they are in a parade, and others very casually. There’s a mix of regulars and others looking for their next party, and I love it. New Orleans clearly isn’t just for one person. It’s for everybody—whether they have an eccentric soul or a meek spirit.
Once we’ve checked in to the hotel, we grab something to eat in the restaurant next door. Marcel chooses a burger, while I go for the tuna melt and a sparkling water.
“I’m glad the hearing is next week. You ready for it?” Marcel asks after taking a bite of his burger.
I shrug. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
I glance up at him before focusing on my plate again. “Marcel, I really don’t want to talk about that while we’re here.”
“Why not?” he asks, and though I’m glad he’s in a much better mood than last night, I’m not up for this conversation.
“Because this is our time, you know? I feel like we should enjoy the freedom we have. When we go back, I’m sure we’ll be stressed all over again.”
He looks me over twice then leans back in his chair. “You’re sayin’ all this, but you seem bothered right now. I get you’re upset about what happened last night, but we’re here now. He can’t get to us here.”
I frown at him, pick up my drink, and take a sip.
“Tell me what’s on your mind, Gabby.”
I sigh, placing the drink down and then propping my elbows on top of the table. “I don’t know. I just…I keep wondering if he sent that investigator after us. Like is he here right now? Watching us? Or maybe Kyle will show up again and ruin this whole trip for us.” I do a hard sweep of the restaurant, like I’ll see some man in a trench coat and sunglasses hiding behind a newspaper. I know—overboard—but it’s all I can imagine.
“I’d say that’s a little extreme.” Marcel finishes off his burger. “He showed up at my house, which is less than twenty minutes from his, yeah, but to come all the way to New Orleans would be fuckin’ ridiculous.”
“Yeah, but it’s not beneath Kyle. He has the money to do it.”
“And I have the fists to beat his ass again, as well as that investigator’s ass if he crosses my path,” he shoots back with a mouth half-full. Marcel gives me a smug smile, but I don’t cave. Noticing that I’m still on edge, he swallows the bite in his mouth then reaches across the table, taking one of my hands in both of his. “Look, we’re here to have a good time, Gabby. Say Kyle did send the investigator here. He can’t bother us publicly, otherwise he’s not good at his damn job. And if he’s around takin’ pictures or somethin’, it won’t affect anything. What we’re doin’ now has nothin’ to do with the divorce. Focus on that. Understand?”
“I’m trying, but everything is really getting to me after last night. The more I think about it, the more I’m convinced that his mom didn’t hire the investigator. Kyle did. It’s something he would do, but she always takes the fall for the shit he does.”
“Well, that’s on her, not you. We’re here to have a little fun, right?”
“Right,” I reply sullenly.
“Then let’s do that. Fuck Kyle. Fuck the divorce right now. Fuck what happened last night. You filed a report, I’m sure they’ve arrested his as, so that means he can’t be here. It’s just you and me, Miss Gabby.”
I smile at the nickname, and he puts on a smirk while tipping my chin.
“Fine. You and me. But if that’s the case, what’s the plan? The only way I’ll be able to forget about all of that shit back at home is if I get super wasted!”
“You wanna get wasted? I can get you wasted. Don’t even worry about that,” he boasts, finishing up his meal.
“Well, let’s do it then!” I finish my tuna sandwich, and after Marcel pays, we go upstairs to shower and change clothes. Then he takes me to Bourbon Street.
The sun has dipped in the sky, the streets packed with so many moving bodies. There are bands playing on drums made of old paint containers and pots, and there is even a jazz band standing in front of a restaurant, tooting trumpets and other horns that I can’t help but shake my hips to.
We stop by one of the many bars around, and I order a hurricane. Shit, why not? My life has felt like one big hurricane lately. It’s the perfect drink to have right now. Marcel orders one too, and we walk the streets, sipping on our fruity drinks arm-in-arm and laughing.
It’s not Mardi Gras, but there are many women walking around with only bras on. Some are so drunk that they actually flash their boobs for club owners so they can get in for free. Half the time, it doesn’t even work.
I laugh, and I can tell this drink is hitting me hard, because I’m slowly starting to forget what’s happened back in Hilton.
“Let’s go in there!” I shout to Marcel, grabbing his hand and rushing to one of the clubs that has a neon purple sign above the door. It’s dark inside the club, but the wall behind the bar is lit by even more neon signs and glowing lights on the shelves.
At the bar, I order myself another drink, and Marcel does the same.
A song by Drake comes on, and if my mouth weren’t full of slushy, fruity alcohol, I would scream. My eyes get bigger and Marcel asks, “What?”
I grab his hand and push my way to the middle of the dance floor, holding my drink in the air with my other hand so it doesn’t spill. “Let’s dance!” I yell over the music.
“Oh, no, no!” Marcel shakes his head and waves his hands. “I’m not good at dancin’!”
“Oh, come on! You’re here to have a good time, remember? Lower your guard!”
His head shakes again, but he can’t stop smiling as he watches my body sway. I turn around, pressing my ass to his groin, leaving him no choice but to take me full on. He holds his drink in the air as I circle my hips while Drake raps about single women. Everyone in this club is dancing, smiling and sweaty, and I love it.
I’m not usually the one to enjoy nights at a club, but with Marcel, I do. I feel him growing hard, his erection digging into my backside as his hips rock in sync with mine.
He’s lowered his guard, his mouth on the crook of my neck, where it feels oh-so-good. Knowing how badly he wants me right now makes me so much happier than I thought it would.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Marcel
I’ve never seen Gabby so relaxed—so outgoing.
I didn’t know she was such a good dancer, either. Her full ass feels way too good on my dick as she grinds and dips. If there weren’t so many people around, I’d fuck her right in this club.
She brings the straw of her drink up to her lips and shakes her hips as she sips, throwing one arm around the back of my neck.
I bury my nose into the crook of her neck again, letting her sweet, honey-cream scent fill every one of my senses.
She isn’t the only one who has had too much to drink. I’ve had one too many, and I’m glad the hotel is a quick walk away. She’s turning me the hell on, and I swear, one more dip of those hips and I’ll erupt.
“Fuck this. Come with me,” I growl in her ear.
She turns around and I grab her hand, leading her around the corner. There is no line for the bathroom, so I walk right in and lock the door behind me.
The bathroom has a bold, red neon sign on the wall, and a red lightbulb above the sink. It’s fucking hypnotic, and Gabby looks breathless and sexy beneath it. Her hair is down, dark tight curls surrounding her face. Her lips are full and parted, eyes glazed with a familiar lust.
I don’t even give myself the chance to think this through, because the shit I want to do to her, I can’t even put in words.
I place my drink on the counter, and she does the same, clashing into me. She moans as I pick her up to sit her on the counter. One of the drinks topples over. I feel it splash on my leg as it hits the floor. It’ll leave a mess, but right now, I don’t give a damn.
I shove Gabby’s dress up to her waist, tug her panties down, pick her up in my arms, and slowly guide her pussy down until it’s wrapped tight around my dick.
“Oh, fuck,” I groan, and she gasps as I shift her up and then back down. She looks me in the eyes, hers glossy and heated.
“Oh my God,” she breathes. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”
“I can.” I grip her ass even tighter. She moans loudly, but with the bass thumping and the people yelling, I’m sure it will blend in with the rest of the noise.
I don’t hold back as I place her upper back on the nearest wall and stroke swiftly. Beads of sweat appear on her forehead, and I feel my own sweat dripping down the side of my face. She’s gripping the hell out of my dick right now, and I’m so fucking drunk, losing control.
“Fuck, I’m close,” I growl, and she sighs, kissing my neck, my chin, and then my lips again.
I pick her up off the wall and drop her down on my swollen cock one more time, and she cries out just as I explode, coming quick in her tight, wet pussy.
“Oh shit,” I groan, putting her back on the wall again, trying to remain steady. “Fuck, you’re so damn good, baby.”
“You’re amazing,” she breathes and then there’s a banging on the door.
“Hurry the hell up, whoever you are! I have to pee!” some girl screams on the other side of the door.
We look at each other and bust out laughing while still trying to catch our breath.
I help her clean up and then grab the drink from the counter. I pick up the cup I dropped, but the shit we spilled is a lost cause.
When Gabby unlocks the door, the girl screams, “Finally!” and shoves right past us. She starts to lower her shorts, but I close the door before she can show too much. She’s trashed, that much is clear.
We visit two more clubs, where we share even more drinks, laugh, and dance a little more. Eventually, as we walk the lit streets of New Orleans, that buzz dies down, and we stop by one last bar, taking a spot at the counter. This bar is much quieter—a sports bar with pool tables and TVs in every corner.
Gabby orders a water to rinse some of the alcohol away. When she receives it, she swirls the straw in her cup, fiddling with the ice.
“I know I tell you this all the time, but you’re so different, Marcel,” she says to me after a while.
“Am I?” I’m turned toward her on the barstool, my knees touching the side of her thigh.
“Yeah. I mean, you’re rugged, yet you have a soft heart. You’re careless but carefree all the same. You’re the first person I’ve met who actually speaks his mind about how he really feels about someone.” She shrugs and releases the straw. “I love it, honestly. It’s nice being around someone real.”
“I’m glad you think so highly of me.”
She looks me over, placing a fist beneath her chin. “What do you like about me?”
“Everything.”
“No, come on!” She laughs. “Go into detail. Every day I wonder what attracted you to me. Is it my looks?”
“Yeah right. You’re beautiful, yes, but if you think I’ve only stuck around because of that, you’re sadly mistaken.” I point a finger at her chest. “You have a good heart.”
She blushes and grins, lowering her gaze.
“Believe it or not, when I first met you, you reminded me a lot of Shayla.”
“Really?” Her eyes stretch a little. “How?”
“Well, for starters, my sister had this odd fascination with art, and you are an artist. The day I met you, you had all that shit on your hands and paint on your clothes.” I huff a laugh. “Shay was also super sarcastic, just like you can be sometimes. She underestimated herself a lot too…just like you. Never believed she was worth more than she had.” Gabby sucks in a breath, locking eyes with me. “Every day I wish I could tell Shayla that she was amazing, and that she could do whatever the hell she put her mind to.” I pause a moment. “This might sound crazy, but sometimes I think maybe that’s why I met you, so I can tell you every day that you are amazing, and that you can do whatever the hell you want, so long as it makes you happy.”
The rims of her eyes shimmer with tears. She blinks it all away quickly and shakes her head. “Sometimes I feel like I don’t deserve whatever I want. I can’t believe I was so stupid with Kyle. I let him do that stuff to me, like I had no value whatsoever.”
“You were afraid. You can’t blame yourself for feeling that way after what he did to you.”
“Yeah, but I always ask myself why? Why didn’t I fight back? Why did I just sit there and take it? He did a lot for me and my family, yeah, but I just…I don’t get why I never spoke up until now. Before now, I always felt like I owed him my life, which sounds insane!”
“I guess you just needed that push. Luckily, I more like shoved your crybaby ass to get a move on.”
She breaks out in giggles. “You’re such a jackass.”
“I’m your jackass.” I lean forward. “Now kiss me.”
She cradles one side of my face, kissing me tenderly.
“Your lips are so soft,” I murmur. I swear they are. They mold perfectly to mine. “You wanna know what else is soft?” I ask.
“What?” she mumbles on my mouth.
“That ass of yours.”
“Oh my gosh!” She tosses her head back and laughs again. “Stop! You are so corny!”
I laugh too, then prop my hands on the counter. “Ready to get out of here?”
“Yeah.” She hops off the stool and grabs my hand when I stand. “Let’s go back to our room.”
We walk hand-in-hand on Bourbon Street, making our way over to Canal, where our hotel is.
During the walk, all I can do is listen to her. She talks about wanting to open an art studio where she can physically teach students how to paint, sculpt, and other creative things.
She also talks about how she twisted her ankle running away from a raccoon when she was twelve. She can hardly tell the story because she’s laughing so hard, and I laugh because she can’t stop laughing, swearing that the raccoon was going to give her rabies if she hadn’t run.
I may sound like a sappy bitch, but I love seeing a smile on this woman’s face. I love seeing her happy. She deserves that and so much more, and how any man can deny her these beautiful smiles astounds the hell out of me.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Gabby
Everything goes by in a blur the next day.
We drink and laugh and have a good time, putting aside everything bad that has happened the last few weeks.
We party hard, living life with no worries. For once in my life, I am living, and it’s with a man I admire so much.
Having sex with him in the bathroom of that club was so damn erotic. I never thought I’d have sex in a public place, but we did, and it was better than I ever could have imagined. I’m almost certain I would never have done something like that with Kyle.
On Sunday morning, I roll over in the hotel bed and notice Marcel is already looking at me.
“Are you watching me?” I murmur, my voice still tired.
“I am.”
“Why?”
“’Cause you’re fuckin’ gorgeous.”
Even this early, I blush.
Marcel climbs on top of me as I rest on my back. I caress his cheek and say, “I don’t want it to be our last day.”
“Doesn’t have to be. We could stay here forever.”
“No, we can’t,” I giggle. “I have a hearing, and you have to work.”
“Damn. Forgot all about that. Responsibilities kinda suck.” He smirks, planting a kiss on my cheek. “Did you have fun this weekend, though?”
“I did.”
“We need to do this more often—little getaways like this.”
“Yeah,” I breathe when he parts my thighs with his knee, spreading them wider apart.
I help him lower his boxers, and before I know it, he’s inside me and a heavy moan has run through my lips.
“I want you to know somethin’,” he hums on my mouth.
“What’s that?” I ask, breathless.
“I want you to kno
w that when we go back home, I’m here for you, no matter what.” He cups the back of my neck, lowering his lips to the crook of it. “You’re an amazin’ woman, and I’m never lettin’ you go.”
His words are so romantic.
I hate thinking about it while we are in such an intimate position, but Kyle has never spoken to me this way. Ever. How did I get so lucky after all of that?
Kyle has never made me feel important, but Marcel is a whole other breed. He is all male, and he knows what he wants, and nothing makes a man sexier.
Though he’d never admit it, I know Marcel is a hopeless romantic, just like me.
* * *
For the rest of the day, we walk the streets of New Orleans then ride around, grabbing some of the best beignets in the city and exploring other interesting places.
New Orleans is a magical place, and now I see why everyone raves about it. It’s fun here, the perfect getaway for someone who has a lot on their mind. This place will leave you no choice but to forget about the bullshit and to enjoy the moment.
It’s a desolate feeling to be packing up when we head back to the hotel, but I know we must get back.
I got an email from Jasinda letting me know that my hearing has been pushed a day ahead. I don’t know how it will turn out, but I need to get my head in the game.
We check out, head to the airport, and fly home. From the airport in Hilton, we catch an Uber to Marcel’s house to get his truck then drive to Venice Heights to pick Callie up from Meredith.
When we leave, I can’t help looking across the street at the place I once called home.
The porch lights are on, and there is a black SUV parked at the curb, which proves that Kyle’s mother is still around. I have a feeling she won’t leave until she knows how this all plays out. Also probably so she can keep an eye on her demented son, so he doesn’t do something else crazy.
On the way home, Marcel grabs my hand and gives it a comforting squeeze. “You sure you don’t want me at the hearing?”
“No. It’s okay. Jasinda said it will be best if I show up alone.”
The Man I Need Page 16