Crazy Rich Cajuns

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Crazy Rich Cajuns Page 19

by Erin Nicholas


  It was so freaking good. Kennedy almost wanted to cry.

  Bennett was filling her from behind while the most glorious shower she’d ever had the pleasure of stepping inside massaged her clit perfectly.

  She couldn’t really hold on to anything. The walls were far too slippery, and she was standing on only one foot while Bennett held her other leg up. All she could do was let him hold her up and let the pleasure course over and through her.

  “Play with your nipples,” he said gruffly against her ear.

  Oh, hell yeah, she could do that. She let go of the wall with both hands, lifting them to her breasts. Her entire body was supported by him now. She was at his mercy. And strangely, she had absolutely no trouble just letting go and letting him take over.

  She tugged and rolled her nipples, the action making her pussy tighten. Bennett groaned behind her, the sound vibrating through her since they were completely connected.

  “You feel fucking amazing,” he told her.

  “Ditto.” She took a deep breath. “Definitely ditto.”

  Then he started moving.

  Bennett pulled out and then thrust deep, seemingly hitting every single nerve ending in her body all at once.

  Kennedy gasped. “Oh, yes. Do that again.”

  He chuckled, rough and low. “Honey, there’s not much that could keep me from doing that again.” He did. “And again.” He did it again.

  Kennedy felt her body tightening. “Bennett.” She let her head fall forward, arching her back and pressing back against him as much as she could.

  He groaned and thrust harder and faster.

  He filled her and as the water vibrated over her clit, her orgasm came spiraling toward her and then broke over her like a wave. “Bennett!”

  “That’s it,” he praised gruffly. “That is fucking it.”

  But instead of continuing to thrust, he pulled out and spun her around. Then he lifted her against the wall. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he slid deep again. The fit was so perfect, so full, so hot, so…everything…

  Dammit, she really was never going to be able to have sex with anyone else ever again.

  That thought came at her fast as he thrust again. Maybe that wasn’t so bad. She could do this with this guy over and over again.

  “Oh, God.” She moaned as the sparkles of pleasure kept raining down with the water.

  He pinned her to the wall, his hands between her ass and the hard tile. Then he pumped into her, his eyes locked on hers, until she felt a second orgasm climbing through her.

  “Bennett. Please.” But she wasn’t sure if she was begging him to keep going or to stop. It was almost too much. Then again, if he stopped, she was going to cry.

  “Again, Kennedy,” he said between gritted teeth. “Let me feel it again.”

  “I just… I need…”

  “What. Tell me,” he said sharply.

  “Harder.” She said it softly.

  But he heard her. He definitely heard her. His jaw tightened, he squeezed her ass, and he went harder.

  “Yes!” Her orgasm rose up and she wasn’t sure the first one had even completely finished. Everything in her tightened and clamped down.

  Bennett roared her name and came a second later.

  Kennedy squeezed her arms around his neck and legs around his waist, hugging him tightly as he leaned into her, panting. Slowly, he loosened his grip and she unwound herself, sliding to the floor as he pulled out.

  He braced a hand over her head and stared down at her.

  “Well…damn.”

  She smiled and nodded, running her hands up and down either side of his face over the scruff there. “Yeah.”

  He reached to the side for the soap and without saying anything more, they washed each other, head to toe, shampooed their hair, and then stepped out to wrap up in towels.

  They went straight to the bed and climbed in together. Kennedy rolled to her side to face him. He did the same.

  They just lay looking at each other for a few minutes.

  “I want to date you,” he said, after a long silence.

  She gave him a smile. “Okay.”

  “In Autre.”

  She lifted a brow. “Just in Autre? Because the mini quiches here—”

  “Everywhere.” He didn’t smile.

  Kennedy got serious. “Okay,” she said sincerely. She put her hand against his cheek. “Very okay.”

  “And no one else.”

  Her eyes widened. “You better not fucking date anyone else.”

  “I meant you.”

  “I don’t want to date anyone else.” No one else would ever measure up again. That was a truth she was going to have to get used to.

  “Good.”

  She started to lean in to kiss him, but he said, “And you should know that I’m only dating you long enough so that it’s not a huge shock when I propose.”

  Kennedy pulled back. “What?”

  “I want you. I want Autre. I want the bayou. For good.”

  Kennedy blew out a breath. She knew she should say that was crazy and how could he know that? But the words wouldn’t come. Maybe because it didn’t feel as crazy as it should. “Okay,” she said softly.

  Emotions flared in his eyes. “But you should also know that I don’t want politics. I don’t want to run for office in Louisiana, either.”

  She swallowed. That one wasn’t as easy to agree to. “You’re amazing. You’re everything that should be in office.”

  He squeezed her hip. “I’m serious. You have to be okay with that.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Maybe you have to be okay with me believing in you and pushing you to do more.”

  Bennett cocked an eyebrow. “You would try to talk me into it?”

  She lifted a hand to his chest and rubbed back and forth. “I would. I mean, you can’t run for office in Louisiana until you live there for two years anyway.”

  “Kennedy—”

  “And—” She scooted closer and put her lips against his chest over his heart. “I have an argument that no one else has used with you.”

  He groaned, clearly knowing where this was going.

  She kissed him. Then licked. Then moved lower and licked again.

  His hand went to the back of her head and he curled his fingers into her hair. But he didn’t stop her. “Kennedy. That’s not fair.”

  “It’s for the good of Louisiana,” she said, kissing down his ribs. “I can’t build an island to protect it. But I can incentivize the guy who can.”

  “I’ll build the damned island anyway.”

  His breathing was getting a little ragged and Kennedy grinned against his stomach.

  “Well, you know how hot I find that,” she said. “Imagine what you could talk me into if I’m calling you Senator in bed.”

  He groaned.

  She licked just below his belly button.

  “Or Governor.”

  “Ken—”

  There was a sudden loud knock at the door. They both froze. Kennedy lifted her head. Bennett covered his face with his hand.

  “Nooo,” he groaned.

  “Bennett?”

  It was Maria. Kennedy rolled away from him, clutching her towel around her. Well, crap.

  “Not now, Mom!” Bennett called.

  “Yes. Now. It’s an emergency.”

  With a muttered curse, Bennett sat up, pulling his towel around his waist. He started for the door but stopped to look back at Kennedy. “This negotiation isn’t over.”

  She laughed. “I’ll bring my argument to this table any time.”

  Bennett blew out a breath and went to answer the door.

  “Bennett, I—” Kennedy heard Maria start. Then an, “Oh.”

  “Just took a shower, Mom. What’s up?”

  “The catering truck for tonight turned over on the highway. Everything is ruined. We’ll have to cancel tonight. Can you help me make calls?”

  Kennedy got out of bed, making sure the towel was tigh
t around her, and moved in behind Bennett. Out of Maria’s line of sight.

  “Calm down,” Bennett told his mother. “There has to be something else.”

  “I’ve called two other companies. No one can do it on such short notice.”

  Maria didn’t sound good. But there was no way Kennedy was going to risk peeking at her. Or even coming out from behind Bennett.

  “Well, then we’ll…figure something else out,” he told his mother. “Can we just do cocktails or something? Everyone will understand.”

  “I am not throwing a dinner party without dinner, Bennett,” Maria replied coolly. “And there’s no way Melinda is prepared to make a meal of this size for this many people.”

  “How many people?” Bennett asked.

  “Fifty.”

  “Well, let’s order pizza,” he suggested.

  “You want to order pizza?” Maria asked. “For your father’s retirement party?”

  Kennedy rolled her eyes. It was a solution. It just wasn’t a great one.

  All they needed was a bunch of great food and…that was really all they needed. Her family had been throwing parties for fifty or more every weekend for years. Okay, and beer. That was a staple.

  “Pizza is good,” Bennett was saying. “Everyone likes pizza. And we can get… salad.”

  Kennedy sighed. “Crawfish boil.”

  He glanced over his shoulder. Then her words sank in and he grinned. He reached for her wrist and pulled her around. To face his mother.

  “Kennedy,” Maria said with a sigh.

  “Hi.”

  Maria’s lips pinched.

  “A crawfish boil,” Bennett repeated. “That’s perfect. It’s different and fun and easy.” He looked at Kennedy. “Is it easy?”

  She nodded. “Relatively. Very few ingredients and no dishes required.”

  Maria’s lips pinched even tighter.

  “I’m a great cook,” Kennedy told her. “But the only things I can do quickly, easily, and in that quantity are grits, gumbo, and crawfish. Gumbo will take too long and grits are not really a whole meal. But a pot full of crawfish, corn, potatoes and sausage, along with a few sides and some beer, and you’re set.”

  Maria ran a finger over the center of her forehead, as she’d done the first night. “You want me to have a crawfish boil in my backyard for my husband’s retirement from the Senate?” Maria asked.

  “You can have it in the front yard if you want,” Bennett said.

  Kennedy pinched him. Even she knew when not to be sassy.

  “Bennett,” Maria started.

  “We’ll take care of everything,” Kennedy heard herself say. Maria looked surprised. But it was the grin Bennett gave her that made Kennedy nod. “If you’ll just turn it over to us, we can definitely throw together a party for fifty in time for the guests to arrive. It will be…bayou chic.”

  Maria’s eyebrows shot up. “Bayou chic?”

  “Sure,” Kennedy said, already regretting it. “A great combination of you and Preston’s backgrounds and lives. Casual but elegant.”

  She had no idea how to pull this off.

  “You can do that?” Maria asked.

  “Sure.” She really didn’t know. Ellie and Cora could help her with the food via phone, but she was going to have to tap into other resources for the ambiance. But she smiled. She had Maddie and Juliet. They were both city girls. Or at least had been for a while. Maddie’s grandmother in California, where she’d lived for over a decade, had money. Juliet’s dad was a big investor and they even had a yacht. Those girls could surely help her figure out how to decorate so it looked less like Ellie’s place on the bayou and more like a place Maria Baxter would be seen.

  But it would taste like Ellie’s place on the bayou. And Kennedy knew from experience that once people started eating, everything else became less important.

  “Fine.” Maria lifted her chin. “It’s all in your hands.” She shot her son a look. “I’m trusting you with this decision.”

  Kennedy gulped.

  She did not think that Maria was referring to his decision to throw a crawfish boil tonight.

  Bennett knew very well how quickly things could get done if you were willing to pay for it. The Baxter credit cards could absolutely get things done quickly.

  But Kennedy Landry could get things done quickly, too. And without interest.

  She’d had gotten dressed, pulled her hair up, and parked herself at the breakfast bar in the kitchen with her phone, a pad of paper, a pen, and all of the Baxter’s guests gathered around.

  Kennedy’s first, and only, phone call had been to Autre. Of course. As she talked to Ellie, Cora, Juliet, and Maddie on speakerphone from Ellie’s, she made lists and wrote instructions on the notepad, then tore the pieces of paper off and handed them to the people around her.

  Kennedy had told them that they needed everyone on deck to help Maria and Preston pull this off, and everyone had been more than willing to help. Bennett had caught his mother off to one side looking misty-eyed and a little awed. He wondered when the last time was that Maria Baxter had asked for help. Did she realize that she did have actual friends, people who wanted her to succeed and be happy?

  Bennett’s heart had swelled when he realized that Kennedy was the one showing her that. Because of course she was. She was a Landry. They might know crawfish boils and airboats and the bayou like no one else, but their true specialty was friends and family.

  Kennedy and Bennett had gone out to find the right pots for the boil and to choose the crawfish and pick up the needed spices. Duke and Jo had been sent to find the corn and potatoes. Even Duke’s mom and Bennett’s grandmother had been given a task—finding the tablecloths for the tables and enough small hand towels for everyone attending. Then Kennedy instructed them to wet and roll the hand towels and arrange them in a bucket of water with lemon slices. It was, evidently, a classier way for everyone to keep their hands clean than just paper napkins and was, thanks to Juliet saying, “You know, like they do in first class when you fly.” The Landrys didn’t know. So she’d explained it directly to Maria, who definitely knew.

  Jo, Sarah, and Tawny were now sitting at the picnic tables filling the mason jars with a mix of water and essential oils—that they’d been sent out to procure earlier—with a floating candle on top. Apparently, they were not only pretty but also worked as a natural bug repellent. Bennett knew that had come from Cora.

  His cousins, Steve and Brian, had been in charge of getting two “old-looking” wheelbarrows and “nice-looking” metal buckets. The wheelbarrows were now filled with ice and one held the bottled beer, while the other held bottled root beer and cream soda. The metal buckets were going to be placed on the tables for the crawfish shells and corn cobs. At this moment, Steve and Brian were painting crawfish on the sides of those buckets. Apparently, they hadn’t been “nice looking” enough. At least, according to their wives.

  Within a few hours, six big, wooden picnic tables had been delivered to the backyard, crawfish were boiling, beer was chilling, and the entire house smelled like heaven.

  In addition to the macaroni salad, coleslaw, and cheddar biscuits she’d put together, Kennedy had insisted there be dessert and that it fit the theme.

  “Pralines,” Bennett had heard her say to Ellie. “Those are quick and easy. If we’re doing mini peach pies in mason jars, we’ll do something else that’s simple.” She paused to listen. “Well, or cookies. Pralines seem more in theme, but cookies are okay, too.”

  Bennett stepped into the kitchen. “Bananas Foster.”

  Kennedy looked up at him. “What?”

  “Peach pie and Bananas Foster. A little bit of Georgia and Louisiana.”

  Kennedy frowned. “Bananas Foster is a lot more difficult than pralines. Which are definitely Louisiana.”

  “Sure. But you can do more than pralines.” He stopped in front of her. “Bananas Foster is more…and you can handle it.” He leaned in and braced his hands on the counter on either si
de of her hips. “Besides, lighting that all on fire? How cool will that be?”

  Kennedy seemed to search his eyes for a moment. Then she said, “You think so?” It was clear she was talking to Ellie and him.

  Bennett nodded. “I do.”

  She sighed a second later. Bennett assumed Ellie had agreed with him.

  “Fine. Bananas Foster it is.”

  Bennett grinned. He wouldn’t be able to eat it, but he was going to love watching her present that to his mother’s guests. He leaned in and kissed her. It was quick and sweet, and he especially loved the stunned look on her face when he stepped back.

  Right into his mother.

  “Mom. Sorry. Didn’t know you were there.”

  Maria looked from him to Kennedy. “It’s all coming together.”

  “It is,” Bennett said. “It’s going to be great.”

  Maria stepped around him, directly in front of Kennedy. She put her hands on Kennedy’s shoulders, looked her in the eye, and said, “Thank you so much. You are saving the evening. I don’t know why you would work this hard for me. But thank you.”

  Bennett was staring at his mother. That was possibly the most sincere thank you that Maria Baxter had ever given anyone.

  “You’re welcome,” Kennedy said, putting her hands over Maria’s. “But, just so you know, I’m doing this because you care about it, and Bennett cares about you, and I care about Bennett. So”—She lifted a shoulder—“I care about this, too.”

  Maria was quiet for a moment. Then she nodded, let go of Kennedy, and reached for an apron. She put it on and said, “I’ll peel the peaches. Unless you’d like me to do something else.”

  Kennedy smiled at her. “That would be great.”

  Bennett had left the kitchen feeling flummoxed. And happy. Very, very happy.

  “This is going to be fun,” Duke said, climbing down from the ladder where he’d been hanging up the last of the twinkle lights and looking around the yard.

  “You think so?” Bennett looked around, too. It looked great and he loved a good crawfish boil. But he was biased.

  “It’s going to be hilarious to see if these guys can actually seriously talk business and deals when their hands are covered in crawfish and butter,” Duke said, nodding. “Plus, who isn’t happier when they’re eating pralines?”

 

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