by L. K. Below
“Sure thing, sugar,” Monique said. Producing a piece of paper, she scribbled down an address, an apartment number, and pulled out a keychain with two silver keys. “Make yourself right at home.”
After giving her friend a hug, Amy picked up her suitcase. “Thanks. I’ll see you later.”
With a twinkle in her brown eyes, Monique said, “Oh, not for a while, I don’t think.”
Shrugging inwardly, Amy exited the shop and waited for a cab on the curb. Once she hailed one, she recited the address on the paper and sat back, trying to stave off the wave of tears that threatened to overwhelm her. This trip was supposed to make her feel better. In fact, before she’d been reminded of Tim, she had felt better. A thousand times better. But now, she just felt…alone.
And unworthy. Why did Colleen have to get engaged now? But Amy roughly pushed that thought aside. She wanted to be happy that her cousin had found someone. If she hadn’t just had her heart ripped out, she would have been ecstatic. She would have been celebrating with her.
Instead, she had retreated halfway across the country.
She paid the driver as the taxi pulled to a stop and hopped out, dragging her suitcase with her. Entering the red brick building, she took the elevator to the third floor and searched for Monique’s apartment. Once she found it, she let herself inside and shut the door.
This wasn’t what she’d expected Monique’s apartment to look like. Back when they’d been roommates, Monique had taken pride in decorating their room nicely. But her apartment was sparse at best. Amy saw no pictures hanging, not even a rug on the floor or a tablecloth on the table. Maybe she had recently moved into the place. After all, except for a pile of dishes by the sink, it was spotless. Monique was prone to leaving things here and there, especially when she was in a rush. She must be really busy down at the store.
Dropping her suitcase and toeing off her shoes, Amy crossed to the sink. Since Monique was letting her stay here, she might as well help out a little. Besides, cleaning always helped to take her mind off her problems. She tackled the dishes, letting the hot, soapy water soothe her. As she glanced around again, she noticed a line of beer cans on the counter. She didn’t understand why Monique drank the vile stuff, but she gathered them up and tossed them in the trash without another thought.
With the kitchen once again neat, she pulled her suitcase along behind her as she searched for the bedroom. Since Monique wouldn’t be getting off for a while, she might as well take a nap. She would be sleeping on the couch later, but she didn’t relish squeezing her frame onto it now. Instead, she opened the door to the bedroom and slipped inside.
This room, too, had very little decoration. Even the bedspread was plain black. But at that point, Amy didn’t much care. All she could think about was crawling onto the large bed. First, she needed to get out of these ridiculously tight jeans. Honestly, she didn’t know how she had let Hannah convince her to wear them in the first place. Finally wiggling out of them, she peeled off her socks and nudged them closer to her suitcase by the door. Then, clad in her baby doll t-shirt and her underwear, she collapsed onto the soft bed. She wasn’t worried about Monique walking in on her half-dressed. After all, she would be awake long before her friend came home from work.
She was only closing her eyes for five minutes, after all…
Chapter 3
Seb should wake her. Yes, that definitely would be the mature, responsible thing to do. He should wake Amy and show her around New Orleans or something equally innocent. He shouldn’t take advantage of her vulnerable post-breakup state, even if he couldn’t comprehend it. What man would give up a woman like her?
He certainly wouldn’t. As she squirmed in her sleep, unconsciously thrusting her chest into the air, he stifled a groan. Was he taking advantage if she’d knowingly waltzed into his apartment? Her black lace panties winked at him as she rolled over in sleep, gifting him with a view of her round, bare ass. God! A thong! Was she trying to kill him?
Here was a woman who looked more interested in seeing the different views of his bedroom ceiling than taking a tour of New Orleans. And fortunately, he could picture every erotic moment in loving detail.
Kiss her. He grinned. That was what princes did in old fairytales, right? After everything he’d heard about Amy’s situation, he wanted to be her prince. The thought fanned his masculine ego, though with the lecherous thoughts swimming in his brain, he was neither honorable nor princely. The thought of being the man to make Amy smile held definite appeal.
Then wake her.
He crossed to her shoulder, thinking to shake her awake. But the steady rise and fall of her thrusting bosom gave him a better idea. If their encounter would turn carnal before too long, why not start it off with a bang?
The bed dipped as he slid onto it, but she didn’t wake. He took the opportunity to learn her body. His hands traveled over her bare arms, up her equally bare legs, and around the gorgeous mounds of her breasts. She was a goddess, and he was more than willing to begin his worship. He firmed his hand over her breast.
“Tim,” she groaned, arching into his palm.
What a blow to the ego.
She’s still sleeping. Don’t get your hackles up. He would make her forget all about her ex-boyfriend. Before the night was through, his name would be the only one to grace her lips.
Those lush, plump lips… He shifted as he grew uncomfortably stiff. Time to do something about the desire fueling his thoughts.
He bent over her, thinking about nothing but sating his lust through a rousing kiss, but she shifted. Rolling onto her back, she spread her legs. Almost as if welcoming him home. He couldn’t pass up the opportunity.
Still a kiss, but now in a much more wicked place. A woman who looked as though she’d stepped out of his darkest fantasies deserved nothing less than being woken to wave after wave of ecstasy.
Moving to the foot of the bed, he nudged her legs farther apart, until they bracketed his shoulders. The pink folds of her pussy beckoned him, shrouded behind the black, lacy veil of her panties. He inhaled her musk. The sharp scent made his cock twitch and his mouth water. What would she taste like? Was she already wet for him? He tested with the tip of his tongue. The fabric separating her core was damp. Sultry and tangy, but only the barest taste. He wanted more.
He swiped his tongue against her again, seeking out the bud at the apex of her thighs. When she moaned, rolling her hips against him, he had to stifle an answering groan. Wishing he could rip aside the delicate fabric barring him from her core, he continued his ministrations, enlivening her more with each bold brush. As he latched onto her clit to suck, her eyes flew open.
“Oh, my…”
That was what he liked to hear.
Her gaze lowered from the ceiling to his face. Her feet scrambled for purchase on the bed as she scooted away. “Who the hell are you?” she exclaimed in the most adorable accent.
Soc au lait! Hadn’t Monique said Amy would be expecting him? He recoiled, trying his best to pretend that he wasn’t drooling or ramrod stiff at the thought of nestling between her thighs again. It seemed he was in trouble.
* * * *
Amy stared at the man who had so recently had his mouth between her legs. And he was certainly worthy of being stared at. Dark chestnut hair, broad shoulders, and a lean waist. And an impressive erection tenting his black pants. Had she entered an alternate dimension? Men like him didn’t look twice at girls like her.
Most importantly, what the hell was he doing in her friend’s apartment?
“Who are you?” she asked again, since he obviously hadn’t been able to decipher her first screech.
This time her words broke through his startled exterior. “Ah…” He rubbed the back of his neck with a sheepish expression. “Monique didn’t mention me, r’what? I’m Seb–Sebastien Babineaux.” He started to hold out a hand, then obviously thought better of it.
Suddenly, Amy realized the state of her clothing–or lack thereof. Dear God, she wasn’
t wearing any pants! And she’d put on a thong today. How much more embarrassing could this situation get? She tried in vain to tuck her legs out of sight beneath her.
“What are you doing in Monique’s apartment?”
Seb met the question with a blank stare. “This ain’t her apartment. It’s mine.”
What? Then why had Monique…
Amy flushed. No doubt she looked like a big, shiny red apple. Correction: a big, shiny red apple in a baby doll t-shirt and almost nothing else. What kind of a floozy must she look like to him?
She didn’t want to raise her gaze to read his expression. Instead, she swallowed, trying to think of some explanation. Any explanation. “I’m so sorry. Monique gave me the key. I don’t know what she told you…”
The bed groaned as Seb sat beside her. Too close. His heat beckoned her, bringing to mind exactly what he had been doing only minutes before. In another universe, she would welcome the pleasure he offered. But he was a stranger.
“She said you’re single. And you flew to New Orleans for a…getaway.”
In other words, he knew every sordid detail. Just fucking wonderful. The last thing she wished was for this Cajun god to think she was unwanted.
“And she told you to do…that? What are you, some kind of gigolo?”
“No!”
Amy jumped at the vehemence at his voice. When he stood, she darted a glance at his face. That lustful leer was gone, replaced by disgust. Like she could have hoped for otherwise.
Seb ran a hand through his hair. Without meeting her gaze, he said, “She hoped we might hit it off, but… I have integrity, y’know.”
She nearly smiled, but mortification got the best of her. She stared past Seb to her bag by the door. And her discarded pants. Sitting there half-naked didn’t add to her self-esteem. She swung her legs over the side of the bed. “Would you mind?”
“Mind what, cher?”
“Leaving the room. Turning your back. Something so I can get dressed again.” And then scheme ways to pay Monique back for this unwelcome meddling.
But Seb didn’t oblige her request. Instead, he said, “No.”
“No?” She couldn’t have heard right.
A wicked smile spread across his face. Kneeling in front of her legs, he rested his hands on her knees. She tried to inch away from the contact, but he held firm. Her skin burned from the heat of his palms.
“Let’s start new. I’m Seb. You’re Amy. Bienvenue. Welcome to my home.”
Amy shied away from the lecherous glint in his eye, squirming farther onto the bed. He followed.
“Start new?” she said in a squeak. “You look like you’re going to start in exactly the same way.”
“Yes,” he purred. “But this time, you’ll be awake.”
His mouth slanted over hers. He held his body away, enshrouding her with his heat but letting that one place be their only point of contact. Lifting a hand, she fitted it over his heart, intending to push him away. But his kiss felt too good. The crisp feel of his white button-down shirt seduced her along with his velvet lips and tongue.
Wait, what was she doing? She broke the lip-lock, turning away. Seb nibbled on her neck.
“Stop.”
With a sigh, he complied. He pulled back to look her in the eyes.
Amy swallowed. “I’m really not the kind of girl who does this after just meeting a man.”
“From what I hear, now’s the time to start.” As he leaned close, his scent closed around her. Spicy and mouthwatering, like gingersnaps. “I’ll make you forget about all and sundry. Everything but this moment will melt away.”
His words were like an aphrodisiac. They shimmied over her bare skin. She almost said yes. It would be so lovely to forget. But with a stranger?
A stranger who’s looking at you hotter than Tim ever did.
“Monique’s probably wondering where I am.”
Seb laughed. The rich baritone made her toes curl.
“Ain’t likely. Relax, cher.” His hand found her arm, began to trace circles. “Pass a good time, for once.”
She could barely understand him when he touched her. Hell, she could barely think.
He leaned even closer, a firebrand against her left side. “I’d love the company.”
When she tried to squirm away from his touch and clear her head, he followed her. His light, tantalizing touch stole her breath.
“Make yourself comfortable. Take off your pants, stay a while.” He raked his gaze over her exposed legs with exaggerated care. “Oh, look…”
“Seb–”
He postponed her words with a hot kiss. This time, he held nothing back, holding her steady as he conquered new terrain. When he lifted his head, she scarcely remembered her name.
“We can stop. Take a tour of New Orleans, if you’d rather. But it won’t be nearly as fun.”
Did he expect her to understand him after a kiss like that? Threading her fingers through his hair, she pulled him down for another scorching kiss. Maybe this was exactly what she needed. To pretend for a day that she was lusted after and loved.
* * * *
Seb felt the exact moment Amy surrendered to him. As she re-ignited their kiss, she lifted her body to his, giving him permission to roam. A dark, primitive instinct gripped him. Mine.
He devoured her mouth, letting her know in no uncertain terms who she belonged to in that moment. He existed as an extension of her pleasure. He nipped the corner of her mouth, following the sting with a soothing caress. Then the other side. When she continued to battle for control of the kiss, he lightened his touch. Soft, teasing pressure. He was in charge. If anyone would be turned to putty, it would be her. By the time he was through, she would forget she’d ever kissed, ever touched, ever felt anything for another man.
Her mouth softened, relinquishing control to him, and he pressed forward. He slipped his tongue into the hot, moist cavern, staking claim as he started to explore with his hands. First, learning the contours of her face. In stark contrast to his demanding kisses, he kept his touch light, lingering over her cheeks, her jaw, threading his fingers through her soft-as-silk hair. Her hands, having dropped to the mattress, continued to lie still. What was she thinking about? Clearly, he wasn’t doing a good enough job of making her mindless.
Breaking away from her mouth, he pressed kisses along the same path his hands had just taken. When he reached her ear, he drew the plump lobe into his mouth. He felt her nipples stiffen through her clothes, hard little nubs. He’d much rather suckle those. Stifling a groan, he moved lower. She smelled like jasmine, sweet and sultry. The scent reminded him of the way her cunt had tasted on his tongue. When he dipped his tongue to taste the hollow just beneath her ear, she moaned.
That’s more like it.
Encouraged, he settled to wring out every last passionate sound. As he explored the sensitive column of her neck, his hands retreated lower, cupping her breasts. She squirmed while he kneaded, kissing lower. When he reached the ample mounds, he paused to run his tongue over the neckline of her shirt, crossing her soft, quivering flesh. He glanced up, but her expression was tense instead of orgasmic. He paused.
“Are–” She swallowed. “Aren’t you going to close the blinds?”
Was she fussing over something so simple? Even though he wanted to hold her closer for a moment or two longer, he stood. Crossing to the window, he shut out the soft sunlight streaming in. Shrouding them in darkness, maybe, but a small price to pay if it made her more comfortable. Now no one would be able to see in. He rejoined her in the bed, pausing only to turn on the bedside lamp so he could see again. He didn’t want to miss a minute of her reaction. Even thinking about it had him close to spilling his seed.
Stretching out beside her, he leaned down to continue his seduction.
She edged away. “Don’t you want to turn off the light?”
“No.” She had to have a loose screw if she thought he would even consider it.
“But…”
“
But nothing, cher.” Maybe he was moving too fast. His analytical, lawyerly side begged him to seduce her slowly. Over dinner or something equally innocent. But Seb didn’t want to relinquish his position. Before they began the arduous task of getting to know each other, he wanted all remnants of other men erased from her mind. For now, and for the next few days, Amy was his. Smoothing his frown, he draped himself over her body and whispered into the seductive curve of her ear. “I want to see every last passion mark, the ecstasy across your face, everything. The light stays on.”
As he teased his tongue over her neck, she shivered, “Oh.” The small sound of surprise from her throat wasn’t near the abandoned state he wished to induce. Shifting lower, he redoubled his efforts. If she didn’t warm up to him after this… It might kill him to slow down, but he would do his best.
He traced the strap of her shirt with his tongue, reveling in the way she arched toward him in offering. Cupping one plump breast, he teased her milky flesh, pressing slow, hot kisses over every inch of bared skin. She moaned, reaching up to clutch his shoulders. His ego swelled. Better. Much better.
With his teeth, he pulled away the flimsy cotton barrier, securing it under first one breast, then the other. A black lace bra barely covered her nipples. Sexy. Mouthwatering. He bit back a groan. When he tongued the fabric, she started to quiver.
“Seb…please.”
He knew at that moment, she was his. To do with as he would. He loved the way she moaned his name. Had anything ever been more erotic? Breathing heavily, he struggled to reign in the urge to rip away the last of her clothing. He had much, much more pleasure planned.
Holding her still with the weight of his body, he carefully drew down the cups of her bra, folding them over and fastening them beneath each ample breast. Soc au lait, was she ever beautiful. Each voluptuous mound heaved with her shallow breaths, capped with a large, enticing nipple. He pulled back to admire the sensual feast laid out beneath him. After murmuring his appreciation, he dipped to roll his tongue over one puckered areola.