SinfullyYours

by Lisa Fox

  Sinfully Yours

  Lisa Fox

  Mardi Gras is a time of debauchery, the “last hurrah” for all the sinners before Lent begins on Ash Wednesday. Bailey is on a mission to wallow in some serious carnal delights, and Bourbon Street is chock-full of options.

  When a handsome military man appears at her side, she knows he’s the one for her. Beads are exchanged, flesh exposed, but their night of sinfully wicked lust ends with the coming of the dawn.

  Bailey has the chance to keep the passion alive, as long as she has the courage to take the chance of a lifetime.

  A Romantica® contemporary erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave

  Sinfully Yours

  Lisa Fox

  Dedication

  For my convention coffee crew—my morning fix is not the same without all of you.

  Chapter One

  It was Mardi Gras night, and Bailey was horny. She stood on the corner of Bourbon and St. Peter, watching the people scream and cheer, exchange beads and bodily fluids. The night was humid, sultry and the air was heavy with the scent of sin and sex. Sweat damped the brows of the revelers as they wallowed in all kinds of depravity and hedonistic delights. Nothing was taboo on Mardi Gras and for the right amount of beads, even the dirtiest requests might be granted.

  A young couple laughed uproariously as they fell against the outside of Preservation Hall in a tangle of limbs and lips. Bailey smiled as she watched them, the first stirrings of her own lust tickling her insides. The man’s hands roamed over the woman’s chest, roughly squeezing her over her clothes. Her brand-name T-shirt was no match for his amorous fumbling, and it was quickly pushed aside to reveal her small, high breasts. The man beamed, overjoyed with his prize, and dove in face first.

  Drunken spectators began to gather around them, blocking her view. Not that it mattered. People were getting it on everywhere, on the balconies, in the doorways, in the middle of the street. Mardi Gras was a voyeur’s wet dream and there were many excellent sights to feast upon—breasts and asses and even some cocks here and there. And so much variety. Every size, shape and color was boldly represented, and everyone was rewarded with beads and adoration. There was something for all tastes, a decadent cornucopia of naked flesh.

  A wonderful display indeed, but tonight was about more than just watching. Tonight, Bailey was going to find a man and fuck him hard. She had worked the entire duration of Mardi Gras, serving drinks to people too drunk to care what they were drinking. The bar had been packed every single night, no less than four deep at any given point during her shift, and by the time five a.m. rolled around and she got through all the details of shift change with the morning bartender, she had been too whipped to go out and frolic. Now, after two weeks of ass-kicking toil, she was finally off, and ready to party.

  A man approached her out of the streaming throng of revelers, a wide grin on his generous lips. She did a quick assessment, looking him up and down. Not her usual type, he was a little too young, a little too frat-boy preppy for her taste, but he had a nice body. He probably had a decent-sized cock too, nothing too outrageous or all that long or fat, but serviceable. With the right kind of directions, he might even be able to use it properly. She smiled at him as he untangled a set of sparkling purple beads from the bundle on his chest and placed them around her neck. The inevitable declaration, “Show me your tits!” was bound to come next, it was the customary payment for such a gesture after all. She was ready to show him what he wanted, and perhaps a whole lot more, but he just smiled without a word and melded back in with the crowd.

  “All well,” Bailey said and adjusted the beads around her neck. Apparently, he wasn’t the one. That was all right though because there were plenty of others to choose from. Men paraded up and down Bourbon Street, drinking beer out of plastic cups, flinging beads, partying passionately. Any one of them would do just as well. She wasn’t looking for the love of her life or any kind of love at all, but if she was really lucky, she would get to feel that instant hit of sexual attraction, that tingling thrill that always meant phenomenal sex. A rare thing, she knew, but it was awesome when it happened. Even if it didn’t happen, that was okay too. Tonight was about getting laid, nothing more, and she was going to scratch that itch for all it was worth.

  A roar of cheers and applause exploded from somewhere down the street and Bailey smiled. Someone must have shown something very, very good. She toasted the night with the remnants of the cocktail she had picked up before hitting Bourbon Street. The sharp kick of cheap vodka burned pleasantly as it slid down her throat. She put the empty cup aside, balancing it on top of a garbage can already heaped with at least twenty others. The alcohol went straight to her head, and she laughed as beads rained down out the sky. Music blasted from the Cat’s Meow speakers, a pulsating beat that commanded the crowd to dance. With no desire to resist, she moved her hips to the rhythm, letting herself get carried away.

  “I think I just found my new favorite song,” a man said from somewhere beside her.

  He had a deep voice, a panty-melting baritone, and she was already smiling as she turned toward him. What she found only made her smile wider. He was tall, well over six feet, with close-cropped caramel-brown hair, and blue-gray eyes. With his ramrod-straight spine, firm body and air of tightly controlled dominance, he had to be military. She met his gaze and a prickly thrill tiptoed down her spine. This was a most fortuitous turn of events. If she had her way, he was going to be the one she fucked tonight. “It is a pretty good song.”

  His gaze roamed over her, a lazy, blatant perusal of her entire body. He started with her face, taking in her eyes, her lips, her throat, working his way down to her breasts where he lingered for a bit, then to her hips, over the low-riding waistband of her jeans, farther down to her platform sandals, and then all the way back up again. Layer by layer of her clothing fell away under his intense scrutiny, until she was stripped naked before him, bare and trembling. Her cheeks were flushed when he finally met her eyes again, and she was ready to take a huge bite out of him. He held her gaze and smiled. “I definitely like it.”

  Bailey silently thanked the gods of Mardi Gras for providing her with this man. He was just what she needed. Her gaze flicked to his crotch, but his pants weren’t tight enough to reveal any interesting details. She wasn’t worried though. She could already tell from the way he held himself that he had a ginormous cock. And that he knew how to use it.

  A group of scantily clad, middle-aged women pushed past them, leaving the rich scent of floral perfumes in their wake. The crowd thundered with approval when they hit Bourbon Street and promptly flashed the masses. They were pummeled with beads from all directions, and they cackled as they collected their rewards.

  Bailey’s new friend laughed as well, amusement lighting up his handsome face. “This is crazy.”

  She nodded. It was crazy. “Yeah, it’s awesome. I love Mardi Gras.”

  “Is this your first time in New Orleans?”

  “No, I live here.” She waved her hand in the general direction of her house. “In the Quarter.”

  “Convenient.”

  “Yes it is.” A man staggered past them, one hand gripping his unbuckled drooping pants, his semihard cock flapping against his thigh. Bailey took a step closer to her companion to avoid colliding with the man. The drunken fool clipped her anyway, knocking her into her new friend. Their eyes met and tension gathered in the air between them, an electric current that stirred the fine hairs on her arms. “You know what my favorite part of Mardi Gras is?”

  He moved closer, towering over her, dwarfing her with his size. “What’s that?”

  Her gaze flicked to his mouth, then back to his eyes, and then down to his mouth again. “Getting beads.”

  A slight dip of h
is head brought his lips close to hers. She could taste his breath—sweet alcohol, mint, and heat. “I have some pretty good ones.”

  “You do.” Examining his beads was a great excuse to grope him, and she took full advantage. He was a solid wall of muscle, his chest warm and firm beneath her palms, and it wasn’t hard to locate his dog tags under his cotton T-shirt. She smiled. It was always nice to be right. There were several military bases not far from the French Quarter. Maybe he was stationed close by. Bailey bit down on her own tongue to curb that dangerous train of thought. That was not what this night was about. She went back to playing with his beads, finally selecting a set of red aliens from the pile. “Can I have these?”

  He pretended to think it over. “What are you going to show me?”

  She smiled, looking up at him through her lashes. She was going to fuck him so hard. Damp night air touched her skin when she unhooked the top two buttons on her shirt and peeled the fabric aside to show him her lacy, black bra. It was her good-luck bra, the one she wore whenever she was in the mood for some naughtiness. She hoped whatever mojo it had didn’t fail her now.

  His gaze fixed on her chest. The weight of his regard made her nipples tingle, and she was very conscious of the rise and fall of her chest. Seconds stretched out, the sound of her breathing loud in her ears. He touched her cheek, a gentle caress of his fingertips that sent a thousand-watt jolt to her pussy. Her knees almost buckled when he traced an electric path down her throat, over her collarbone. Every cell in her body clamored for his touch and she hissed in air when he outlined the swell of her breast, then moved over, lower, down toward her cleavage. His fingers descended a little farther, but she pulled away before he could reach his goal, flashing him a little smirk as she stepped out of reach.

  He chuckled, removed the beads she had chosen, and looped the strand around her neck. He met her gaze, his blue-gray eyes boring deep into hers as he wound the necklace around his fist. With a grin, he yanked her forward, the beads tightening around her throat as he brought her lips to his and thrust his tongue into her mouth. She moaned as his taste overrode her senses, heat pooling in her core. The necklace bit into her flesh and he tugged on it, forcing her up on her toes. She gripped his biceps, her fingers digging into the hard muscles as she held on tight. The kiss completely swept her away, and she opened wider, giving herself over to him, letting him go as deep as he desired.

  He nipped her lower lip and then pulled slightly back. She laughed even as she panted, loving his boldness and wanting more. So much more. She met his gaze and licked her upper lip, savoring his flavor. “Does that mean I have to give you beads now?”

  He shook his head slowly, his eyes dancing with mirth. “No, that one was free.”

  Her gaze fell to his mouth, and she touched his lower lip. “And if I want another?”

  “That depends upon what you’re willing to do for it.” His grin was cocky, self-assured and all hot sex.

  She smiled back at him. He was too much fun. She lifted her chin, inviting him in, and was pleased when he automatically dipped his head. He made it so easy. She pulled back before their lips could meet, giggling as she teased him.

  He gave the beads another tug, dragging her back against him. The strand was tight around her throat, pressing against the back of her neck, making her acutely aware of how in control he truly was. All he had to do was yank them again and he could take whatever he wanted. Their eyes met and they were frozen, locked in each other’s gazes. A power struggle passed between them and was decided in the endless fraction of a second it took for her to look away. Her cheeks burned, and she was thoroughly wet when he released her. His smile said he knew it too. He took a step back and smoothed the beads down over her breasts, taking his time to arrange them to his liking while subtly copping a few feels.

  Camera lights erupted to their right, and they both turned to see a beautiful brunette flash a group of young men. Cheers burst from her audience when she bounced her full, round breasts. Bailey had to grudgingly admit that her breasts were gorgeous, close to perfect in fact, with tiny pink nipples that puckered in the night air. The woman shimmied her shoulders and was paid in beads and howling appreciation. Her admirers got one last shake before she pulled her shirt back down, grabbed one of the young men and tongue-kissed him hungrily—much to the delight of the crowd.

  “How come you didn’t show me all that?” her companion asked, his gaze fixed once again on her chest.

  Her lips curled as she looked him up and down. “You seemed satisfied with what you saw.”

  “Oh, no,” he said, and something flashed deep in his eyes, something dark and enticing. “I am definitely not satisfied. Not yet.”

  She did like the sound of that. “Well, if you want to see more, it’s going to cost you.” She ran her fingertips over the beads on his chest.

  “Ah, I see.” He chose a green strand with a fleur-de-lis medallion and separated it from the rest. “Will these do?”

  She made a big deal of inspecting the beads, rolling them between her fingers, examining the plastic medallion. “They’re all right, I guess.” She shrugged. “Enough for a little peek anyway.”

  He plucked the strand from her grasp. “I think I need more than just a little peek.”

  The night was turning out to be far better than she could have ever anticipated. When she set out, her goal was to get laid. But with him, she was actually having fun. “Okay,” she said, methodically unbuttoning another button on her shirt. “But only because you’re cute.”

  He gave her a saucy wink. “Being cute does have its perks.”

  She could only shake her head as she unbuttoned one more button, exposing the skin right above her navel. His gaze became intent, focused, but when she did not immediately continue her deliberate progression, he reached out and quickly unbuttoned the rest of her shirt himself.

  “Hey,” she whined. “That’s no fun.”

  “I disagree,” he said, backing her up against the closest brick wall. “It was actually lots of fun.” He braced his hands on either side of her head, caging her in, but also forming a barrier of sorts, creating a private show for himself—or as private as anything could be on the corner of Bourbon Street. “Please, continue.”

  She looked into his eyes and unlatched the front clasp of her bra, slowly peeling back one cup to expose her naked breast to the night air. Her nipple instantly puckered, begging for his attention. His fingertips lightly traced the outside curve of her breast, raising goose bumps on her skin and then he cupped her, testing the weight in his hand. Raw lust rocketed to her pussy when he circled her nipple with his thumb, and her pulse beat a furious tempo in her throat. She arched her back toward him, meeting his hips. His erection pressed against her lower belly and she grabbed his waist, pulling him closer. Fierce desire made her breath catch when he dipped his head, and she silently willed him to take the nub into his mouth. Fire tore through her when he blew on it instead, the warm stream of his breath making her burn.

  He gave her nipple a firm tug, and her eyes nearly rolled back in her head. And then he was gone, stepping away from her, putting space between them. He untangled the beads from his neck and put them around hers. “There, I think you’ve earned those.”

  Bailey had to laugh. He played her so well. Sizzling fervor coursed through her veins and it took her three tries to get her bra fastened correctly. She knew that he noticed, and that he was amused, but there was nothing she could do about it. He had totally scattered her brains. Once she had somewhat composed herself, she reached for last remaining set of beads around his neck, a pearl necklace made of tiny white hearts. It gave her an excellent excuse to fondle him again. He had the best chest. She couldn’t wait to lick him. “These are really nice beads as well,” she said, twisting her finger the strand. “I must have them.”

  He shook his head, his handsome face the picture of feigned regret. “I don’t know if I can part with those.”

  “Oh no?” she asked, fully enj
oying the flirtation. Her belly fluttered as she wondered what he might ask for this time. “Why not?”

  He placed his hand over hers, holding on to both her hand and the beads at the same time. “I’m very fond of these beads.”

  “I can understand that. They are nice beads.” She looked up at him, touched the tip of her tongue to her top lip, and then deliberately dropped her gaze to his mouth. “I would really, really like them though.”

  “Hmm,” he said, and the low rumble from deep in his throat vibrated through her, strumming all her right spots. “I might be able to part with them.” He moved closer again, his chest just millimeters away from hers. The heat of his body made her skin tingle. “For a price.”

  She hadn’t expected anything else. “What do you have in mind?”

  “Well…” He ran the back of his hand down her arm and despite the hot night air, she got chills. “I could be persuaded.” A snap of lust flicked her pussy when he grazed the underside of her breast. “If you were willing…” He dragged his index finger down the center of her body. “To offer something…” The fingernail scraped over her lower belly, then moved lower, following the path of her zipper. He held her gaze and flashed her a devastating grin. “A bit more.”

  All the breath left her lungs in one, harsh whoosh. Her pussy pulsed beneath his finger. If she arched her back the slightest bit, his hand would be between her thighs. People filtered by in her peripheral vision, a neverending stream of bodies, but they were hazy, distant. There was only his hand and the intoxicating weight of his touch.

  He dragged his finger back up the length of her zipper, drawing a lazy trail that curved up and over her hip. The caress circled her bellybutton, tickling the delicate, sensitive skin, and she trembled. A whimper escaped her lips, a soft cry that was almost a plea. He smiled at her everything in his eyes asking if she really wanted all that he had to offer. “Of course, if you’re not up to it…”

  Bailey chuckled under her breath. There was no way she was going to let that challenge go unanswered. But if he thought he was winning that easily, he was quite mistaken. She ran her palm over the front pocket of her jeans, her fingers dipping close to what he wanted. It was difficult not to smirk with triumph when his gaze immediately latched onto her hand. “I don’t think those beads are worth everything.”