BornontheBayou

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BornontheBayou Page 6

by Lynne Connolly


  It was as though he’d read her mind. “Chance,” she managed through suddenly dry lips. “I want to know.”

  “Know what?”

  “What it’s like?”

  He frowned and stared at her, eyes gone sharp and cold. “You’re a virgin?”

  She laughed. “Nope. How many twenty-eight-year-old virgins do you know? But it’s been a while.” She thought back. “A year, I think. No, I meant I want to know what it’s like with you. To be with you.”

  And she did what she’d been thinking about doing all afternoon. She touched his silver nipple rings. They felt cold against the tips of her fingers. She followed the little circles from one end to the other and watched his nipples contract. When she looked up, he was smiling down at her, his eyes gleaming.

  “You like?”

  “Oh yes. Now that’s a first for me. Doing it with a man who wears body jewelry.”

  “I hate to disappoint you, but that’s all there is.” Heat rushed under her cheeks and he chuckled, tipping up her chin so he could see her. “Did you want more? For you, I might even get a Prince Albert.”

  “What’s that?”

  He laughed delightedly. “Shit, you are innocent, aren’t you? Sweet and lovely.” He didn’t sound mocking at all as he dropped a gentle kiss on her lips. “Come on, let’s get comfortable.” He paused in the act of shrugging off his jacket. “I’m ahead of you.”

  She held her breath as she lifted her new T-shirt over her head, shyness swamping her. She was out of practice. She’d never done this with someone who’d affected her so much or someone half so gorgeous. It wasn’t just his ripped body and sexy drawl, he affected her at a deeper level, a place she hardly knew herself. She sensed a point of vulnerability inside him, she had ever since she’d seen him staring at the wall in the old upper drawing room at Great Oaks. But she didn’t know him, had only met him that morning, she reminded herself.

  When she saw his expression after she tossed her T-shirt over the nearest chair, she responded immediately, her nipples peaking and her pussy dampening. He’d catch fire if she struck a match. She fought not to squirm but he must have seen something. Fuck, of course he did.

  He sounded hoarse. “Come here.”

  She stepped into his arms and gave herself to him.

  He folded her close and she felt oddly safe, more than she’d felt for months, since she’d arrived in Louisiana to rebuild her life. Being brave every day, facing the world as a failure had taken a lot from her, more than she’d realized.

  He kissed her again then gentled it, as if she were precious, something he needed to handle delicately. His hair fell over her face as if it too was in protective mode, caressing her cheeks. She loved it. Too much. She couldn’t allow herself to imagine more than he was offering. This man was rich, famous, and he didn’t belong to her for more than a few hours. Better remember that. Difficult with his tongue in her mouth, caressing her so carefully, learning her texture and taste.

  For the next few hours, in this anonymous bedroom, she could give herself to him totally. Nobody would know what they did or how they did it. “I thought you’d take me for a walk on the wild side,” she murmured against his lips.

  “Maybe this won’t be,” he said, almost whispering the words, his breath hot against her skin. “We have all night to get to wild. Right now you’ve been driving me fucking crazy all day, ever since I saw those sweet little berries under your blouse. I do hope they deliver that shirt here, because I want to see you in it again. But not now.” He undid her bra with a skillful twist, almost as well as she did it herself every night. “Now I want to see you in nothing at all.”

  She stepped back and lowered her arms. The bra fell to the floor. Neither of them bothered to watch it fall.

  She watched him watching her, staring at her breasts and smiling in pure delight. “As beautiful as I imagined, and believe me, I’ve been imagining.” He took her breasts into his hands, almost reverently cupping them so her nipples peeked between his fore and middle fingers. “They feel good too.” He bent his head and sucked one into his mouth, caressing and circling with his tongue until she sighed and pushed closer. He moaned something that sounded like “Delicious.”

  He released her breasts in favor of unfastening and slipping her jeans down her legs. He still sucked her breast and had her murmuring his name, then he let it go, showering both breasts with kisses.

  How had she gone without this for so long? He slid his hands up and down her legs, then knelt and helped her out of her panties. She bit her lip. “Sorry.”

  “For what, baby?” The word should have made her feel belittled or childlike. Instead it made her feel cherished. She only hoped he meant it that way.

  “They’re only plain ones.”

  “What are?”

  Then she felt even more stupid for bringing up the subject. “Never mind.”

  He glanced aside. “Oh those. They look fine. But you’re even finer.” He combed through her curls with his fingers. “Au naturel. It’s been a while since I’ve seen a bush this gorgeous.”

  “I trim it!” she protested. She didn’t totally abandon personal grooming because nobody saw it but her.

  “I like it.” He separated her labia and cool air washed across her clit, already sensitive even before he touched it. He leaned closer, licking and sucking in an intimate kiss, and her balance started to go.

  Sensation shot through her whole body like a pleasant electric shock. She grabbed his shoulders for balance and he laughed before straightening and taking her in his arms. “Want to know what you taste like?” When she gave a tentative nod, he took her lips with his and delivered a long, luscious kiss. She’d never enjoyed that before, tasting herself on another person, but the intimacy of his actions overwhelmed any scruples and she relished it now.

  He had no compunction in doing what he wanted, opening her, kissing her, and when coarse fabric abraded her thighs she was reminded that she was the naked one here. And she didn’t care. For once, she didn’t fucking care, didn’t want to hide herself or her body.

  He finished the kiss and touched his forehead to hers. “Delicious, in case you were wondering. Get into bed and I’ll find us some protection.” She did as he said, glad to get under the covers because the aircon in here must be running at full stretch. After the heat of the day, she felt the coolness all the more. It gave her the opportunity to watch him shuck his jeans and underwear, shoving them impatiently down his legs and kicking them away.

  She stared and instead of laughing, moving away or hiding, he spread his legs and let her look. “I hope you approve.”

  The heat that rushed to her cheeks had no origin in the comforter she’d pulled to her chest. “Yes. Yes, you could say that.” She’d never met a man more comfortable in his own skin before. He didn’t care how closely she examined his reddened, erect cock and the plump balls swinging underneath. His thighs were thick with muscle and he held in his stomach without effort. She got the feeling that even if he had a paunch he wouldn’t bother to hide it. The ultimate what you see is what you get.

  She so wanted what she saw. “Turn around,” she said. “I want to see where that dragon goes.”

  Flashing her a wicked grin, he did as she asked, giving her an even better view of the tattoo in motion when he bent to sweep up his jeans and dig in the pocket for a condom.

  The dragon wound around his left biceps, swept across his back and followed the length of his spine down to his mouth-wateringly curved buttocks. The tail curled around the right one, its end spear-shaped, pointing between his legs. He glanced over his shoulder. “Satisfied?”

  “Not nearly,” she said, deciding to talk about something else entirely. “But that tattoo is amazing.”

  He laughed. “I know. It took a few sittings. He offered to color it but I like the starkness of the monochrome.” He flexed his shoulder and the creature rippled as if alive.

  Before tonight ended, she’d lick all the way down that dragon and
let it lead her where it would.

  She’d never been so wet for a man before. Taking courage from his attitude, she opened her legs and didn’t change position when he turned around. He came to her, pulled back the comforter and stared down at her, a slow, sweet smile curving his lips. “You’re a man’s wet dream,” he said.

  “Glad I’m yours.” She wasn’t sure what precisely to say, but that seemed appropriate.

  “I’m just the lucky one who got here first. Didn’t you see how many people watched you today?”

  “Because I was with you.”

  Slowly, he shook his head. “Like fuck, it was.” He glanced down and used the condom to sheathe himself with a skill that spoke of long practice, then he raised his eyes back to hers.

  As if drawn by something out of his control, he bent to her, moving slowly, lifting one knee on the bed, then the other, so he straddled her. He didn’t touch her anywhere but stared at her, scanned her body, watching her so closely she had nowhere to hide.

  Beverley recalled all her flaws, panic rising inside her with each recollection. She twisted her arms so the insides were hidden. He noticed the movement and frowned. “What’s wrong?

  She gave a shaky laugh. “I’m not perfect.”

  “Good.”

  “You are.”

  “No, I’m fucking not.” He sat up, still not touching her, and turned his arms so she could see the insides. Scars marred the tanned skin, tiny marks and lines she hadn’t noticed before. “Tracks,” he explained. “Hard living. So let’s see yours.”

  Feeling foolish, she turned her arms so he could see the inner forearms. “Nothing so romantic. Ovens.” The scars from years of pulling hot baking tins out of ovens had left reminders. She’d look at them sometimes almost wistfully, but not now. Not when he gipped her wrist and drew it up to his mouth. He kissed one scar, then another, brushing his lips over them with aching tenderness.

  “It shows you’ve lived,” he murmured, smiling, then put her arm back against the crisp sheet and came back down to her. “Nobody is forcing me to be here. I want this, as you do.”

  This was a night out of time, shared by two people, and then life would resume.

  He kissed her. His cock and balls grazed her skin. She felt no pressure, but heat seared through her where he touched her. Slowly he lowered the rest of his body onto her, keeping his weight on his elbows. It seemed so right, as if they were about to embark on something big.

  Apart from the size of his genitals, she couldn’t let herself think that far. Dreams were one thing, but this was reality.

  Reality meant lying on a bed in one of the best hotels in Baton Rouge with a man half the female population coveted, and the other half didn’t only because they hadn’t seen him yet. She had him now, and only now mattered. She curved her arms around his back and smiled up at him.

  “I’ve wanted you all fucking day,” he said. “For half of it I watched those gorgeous nipples, then I saw the full glory of your body when you had that outfit on, the one from the department store.”

  “I thought you didn’t like it.”

  “It didn’t suit you. Sleazy.”

  “And you don’t like sleazy?”

  He laughed. “Sleazy is a turn-on sometimes, but you’re not the sleazy type. You don’t act it and if you did, it would come out all wrong. I’ve had all day to look at you, and I have a better idea than I did this morning.”

  “You still want me?”

  “What do you think?” He kissed her again, and as he did so, his rigid cock slid between the folds of her labia, over her clit. He withdrew and did it again, making her moan into his mouth and arch up to him, pressing her stomach against his. His muscles tensed in response.

  He kissed her deeper, pressing toward her opening, her pussy responding with heat and wetness. He thrust his tongue into her mouth, once, twice, more, and she dragged him as close as he could.

  His cock slipped into her, then he pushed. Slowly and steadily he breached her body and it opened to accommodate him, then closed snugly around him.

  Nobody had ever filled her so well before. It felt new, as if she’d never done it before, and she allowed herself a moment of fantasy, that this was her first time, that this was her first man. But her first time had been uncomfortable and something she’d wanted to forget, between two inexperienced kids, scared and excited. Never a good combination for control.

  Ten years later, she had the control and so did he. Infinite control, it seemed, as he kept up the slow pace, not stopping until he’d entered her completely. He finished their kiss and smiled down at her. “Now that felt good. Fucking amazing.”

  “Yes. It did. It does.” She wriggled under him. “Now for fuck’s sake, move.”

  He chuckled, the sound a little shaky, and did as she told him, pulling out, pushing in, watching her face all the time. She sank down, moved a little and he caught what she was trying to do and changed the angle of his entry slightly. “Better?”

  Shit, yes. Biting her lip, she nodded and he moved again.

  So good. It felt so good. She moaned low in her throat, a purr of appreciation as he moved, keeping the pace slow, making her feel every nuance, every touch. He bent to nuzzle her breasts and the sensations linked and heated, spreading over her entire body, all her nerve endings coming to life. She slid her hands down to his buttocks, felt those firm buns harden under her touch as he worked his cock in and out of her. He slowly increased the pace, steadily building, no sudden movements. She pushed back, tensed her back and buttocks, met his thrusts with movements of her own and clutched him, pulling him closer so their bodies met from breast to toes.

  They stopped speaking, communication changing to their movements, deeper than speech because their bodies couldn’t lie or cover up the way they were opening to each other.

  Did he always fuck with such honesty? She had no idea, but she couldn’t remember being this exposed with anyone else before. He watched her the whole time, compelling her to meet his gaze. He had startlingly blue eyes, with streaks of lighter blue swirled around the blackness of his pupil, adding a commanding quality to his stare. She couldn’t look away. Didn’t want to, because she felt him sharing himself with her.

  He was slamming his body against hers now, the sound of flesh meeting flesh loud in the quiet of the bedroom, hypnotic in its inevitability. She lifted her knees to urge him deeper, gripping his sides so she could have all of him, touch as much of him as she could.

  Arching back, she cried out as the full force of an orgasm worked for and won convulsed and conquered her. No thought, no place remained except this room, Jace Beauchene and her.

  She didn’t realize she could scream so loudly, but she still heard his responding cry of her name and felt the way his body suddenly jerked. He would have jackknifed had she not held him so securely. Heat pulsed deep in her pussy and she melted for him, aftershocks pushing her senses up yet again.

  Falling to one side of her, he laughed breathlessly. “Shit, that was intense. Cool fuck, hmm?”

  Chapter Five

  Beverley went cold at the last words. That had meant so much more to her than a romp in the hay and until a few seconds ago, she’d thought it meant more to him. She was so fucking naïve. So if that was how he wanted to treat it, she’d have to learn to do it too, or look like a complete fucking idiot. Withdraw, pretend this was just another encounter, that they were having fun. Like he’d done before many times. Coward.

  Her lack of personal experience in these situations had made her think he meant this to be special, but those words, “Cool fuck, hmm?” as if they’d engaged in nothing more intimate than a game of cards had brought her down to earth with a bump so hard it had taken her breath away.

  She should know better. She knew how rock stars lived, had seen it in the hotels her father had worked in. A different woman every night, sometimes two or three. Jace probably thought of sex as an amusing pastime, something to share with someone pleasant, a passing pleasure.
/>   Her lip curled. She turned the sneer into a smile as she rolled on to her side, but she didn’t snuggle closer. “It was, wasn’t it? I’ve never felt it quite that intense before. Have you?” She repeated his word back to him, making him think about it.

  Thus forcing him to lie or to admit it to her. Or the truth might be that this happened to him every time. She had only her instinct to guide her, and everything told her that he’d felt the closeness every bit as much as she had.

  He sighed. “No. I don’t think so.”

  Back to honesty, then. “Thank you. I thought you were going to say that you did it twice a week and thanks for the ride.”

  He stared at her in silence for a few seconds. Seconds that stretched time. “I was. But I need not to spoil what we just did. Maybe the stars were in alignment, or the bed is a great one or something. Or maybe it’s us.” He paused again. “Amazing. Truly amazing. I never felt that with a woman the first time before.”

  “What?”

  “That closeness. Pretty cool, huh?” The conscious repetition of the word softened the impact and she cursed her own insecurity. Whatever this was, that had been one amazing fuck.

  Now she laughed too. “Yeah. Pretty cool.” Her deliberately appalling American accent made him glance at her, sharing the joke. He leaned over and kissed her. “Thanks. Guess I’m not used to this. Thanks for understanding.” He leaned back and the tension eased between them. Honesty did that.

  He laughed, this time genuine amusement it seemed. He shared his thought with her. “You know I’ll probably write about this, don’t you?”

  She propped herself up on one elbow. “You write the songs?”

  “I come up with the odd lyric.”

  When she wanted to protest, he laid a finger across her lips and she kissed it, then tried to nibble but he drew it back, smiling. “It’s good to put thoughts into music sometimes. The other members of the band, especially Zazz and Riku come up with shit all the time, always scribbling or noodling on the piano, but I get one idea every few months. Except when they give me a lyric or a simple melody, I know how to make it better. That’s what I do best. I’m making an exception with you.”

 

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