Hell or High Water (The Four Horsemen MC Book 8)

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Hell or High Water (The Four Horsemen MC Book 8) Page 18

by Rayne, Sara


  His single-minded focus on her overcame every barrier she’d tried to build between them, emotion sweeping her. She felt stripped, open and exposed to his all-consuming attention. Her heart skipped a beat. Something clicked into place, and Lex knew she’d never be the same again. She’d found where she belonged, where she fit.

  Here, with this man, naked in his arms until the world ended or he didn’t want her anymore.

  “Lex, Lex, Lex…,” he chanted. His thrusts sped up, and she rocked her hips against his, panting for breath.

  Leaning back, she palmed his balls, squeezing them firmly. He pulsed inside her, and she arched upwards, brushing right up against the peak she so desperately needed.

  Voo grinned. “Two can play that game.”

  Licking his thumb, he reached between them, pressing the slick, rough pad against her clit and slowly rubbed a circle around the aching bud.

  “Do you like that?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I can tell. You’re squeezing my dick so tight right now.” He bit his lip as he fought for control.

  She ground down on him, and he shouted, arms squeezing around her. Then his eyes flashed open, and she was lost in their mercurial depths. He pushed into her again.

  “Everything I imagined,” his rough voice rasped in her ear.

  His next thrust sent her over the edge, and she came hard, the muscles of her inner walls clenching down on him. She panted as he continued to move, rocked by waves of pleasure. His balls tightened in her hand, and his release pulsed inside her, carrying her into a second orgasm.

  Completely out of control, she surrendered and let the pleasure crash through her in echoing waves, lost to the storm she’d unleashed.

  Shaking, she clung to Voodoo as he pumped through the rest of his orgasm, sending pleasurable aftershocks rocketing through her body as he slowed to a stop. Pulling out carefully, he tossed the condom away and used the corner of the blanket to clean the traces of passion from their bodies. He touched Lex lightly, as if she were precious, breakable.

  Finally, he rolled onto his back, sprawling Lex across his chest and wrapping his arms around her waist.

  “I just had the best orgasm of my whole life.” Lex giggled, the endorphins skipping through her blood making her giddy.

  Voo cracked a smile. “Wait for the next one.”

  “So there’s gonna be a next one?” She swallowed.

  “Multiple next ones. It’s a specialty of mine you won’t see on the menu. Call it a secret recipe.”

  “You don’t have menus.”

  “Then it’s a very well-kept secret, non?” His hands roamed her back, warming her skin, relaxing the muscles.

  “Would it be weird if I asked you about her?” Curiosity about the woman Voo had proposed to burned inside her. She probably didn’t want to hear this, but she wasn’t going to hide from it. She was no longer the peel-the-Band-Aid-off-slowly type. Rip it off and get it over with.

  “Artemis?” Voo stiffened. “Not great post-sex talk, but if there’s something you want to know…I’ll be honest with you from now on, Lex. You’ve earned it. You certainly deserve it from me.”

  “Did I…do I…remind you of her?”

  “Non. You have similar coloring, features. I have a physical type.” Voo shrugged. “But you remind me of the way she made me feel about myself. And that was special.”

  “So, what do we do now?”

  “I have a list.” Voo smirked. “I’ve been working on it for months. Considered texting it to you a time or two, just to see what you’d do.”

  She laughed.

  “For now, I get you dressed and take you back to your room. Looks like you’ll have an extra occupant for the night.”

  “You’re gonna stay with me?” Lex’s lips curved tentatively.

  “I am not nearly done with you tonight.”

  Lex didn’t tempt fate by asking what would happen in the morning. Joy was fleeting. Feelings of belonging didn’t last—neither would this. But she’d take what she could get.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Voodoo woke with Lex curled around him, one leg draped over his thighs, a hand resting on his chest. His arm tightened reflexively around her shoulders, and she snuggled closer in her sleep.

  What have I done?

  What dark spirit had possessed him last night? His memory flickered with the grin of the man in the top hat. He stared down at the tattoo on his forearm, Baron Samedi’s face pressed against Lex’s naked back.

  He jerked away.

  Voo froze, sucking in a breath, but Lex continued to slumber. Worry lined her face even in sleep, creasing a line between her lightened brows. He wondered if she’d chosen the platinum shade to feel closer to her father.

  Cap would have his balls in a vise-grip if he found out what happened between them last night.

  Carefully extricating his limbs from Lex’s, he rose from the bed, silently gathered his clothes, and fled to her attached bathroom. He gripped the edge of the sink and stared at his reflection. Phee’s words echoed in his head.

  Did it ever occur to you to give being the man she deserves a shot?

  “You’re an idiot.”

  Lex knew his dirty secrets, his past—everything he’d tried to bury six-feet deep and forget. Yet she’d fallen into his arms, gifted him with her body. Starved for comfort, for some sense of peace in this tumultuous pool of New Orleans he’d never wanted to dive back into, he’d taken what she offered like the greedy street urchin he’d always been.

  Samedi had been right—resisting his base instincts never worked out for him. He didn’t have much in the way of character. But for Lex, he’d tried.

  Voo had never felt this vulnerable with Artemis. He’d been happy—the happiest he had ever been before he met her. But there had always been an edge, an anticipation of what he concealed, of who he pretended to be to be with Artie. His grand-mére had told him Artie couldn’t be his soulmate because he’d kept his soul hidden.

  With Lex, his whole being was a throbbing exposed nerve. Now he understood why he hadn’t been honest with Artie. This was fucking painful.

  If he’d thought sleeping with Lex would slake his desire and give him some control back, he’d been a fool. He might as well have roped a typhoon.

  He yanked on his clothes and cracked the bathroom door open. Lex whimpered in her sleep. Swallowing hard, he crossed the room. Fingers curled towards the side of the bed he had vacated, her eyes clenched as if locked in some nightmare. He pulled the sheet over her small shoulder and rested his hand on her back.

  With a soft sigh, Lex snuggled into his pillow like a tawny lion cub, the lines on her sweet face easing. Assured she would sleep for a few more hours, he snuck downstairs to the kitchen.

  The room bustled with men and women in white uniforms prepping the morning buffet. He darted through their movements and helped himself to a cup of coffee, half-expecting the swat of Phee’s cane at any moment for interrupting the brunch rush.

  Instead, he heard Boone’s strong tenor. “Alfonse! Is that a sandwich or a salad? Back off the lettuce and try puttin’ some ham on there, hmm?”

  Boone moved through the kitchen with authority, calling out orders and re-plating dishes. His staff took the sarcasm in stride and tossed it right back, filling the busy room with saucy banter. He checked each tray and warming dish personally before sending the line out. Armed with heavily laden trays, the staff trooped out of the kitchen.

  “You still run a tight ship.” Voo sipped his coffee.

  “I would’ve been a helluva manager.” Boone tossed his apron on a nearby stool.

  “You are one.”

  “Yeah, for two, maybe three more days.” He pressed his hands against the kitchen table, head bowed. “What do you want?”

  “I just came for the coffee.”

  Boone snorted. “Looks to me like you came for the blonde. Should I be fixin’ a cup for you take up to her?”

  “She’s out of both our leagues.�
� He flipped a chair and straddled it, resting his elbows on its back.

  “Doesn’t seem to stop you.” Boone settled on a stool across the table from him. “Of course, nothing ever has.”

  “Are you gay?”

  “Excusez-moi?” His eyes widened.

  “I fell in love. That’s all I ever did to you. Recently, I realized a friend of mine was gay, and he had a thing for this guy in the club but never said… It’s not important. I’m just wonderin’ what I’m missing. Why did me fallin’ for Artie piss you off so bad?”

  Boone pulled a silver flask from his jacket pocket, took a pull, and offered it to Voo. The aged scotch burned his tongue and filled the empty pit in his stomach with liquid heat.

  “First off, I’m not gay, and if I were…well, don’t flatter yourself. And you fell in love with the lies you created. Artie could’ve loved you. I think she was a good person. If you actually loved her, you would’ve told her the truth. I think you loved what she could give you. I couldn’t stand by and watch you take advantage of her while you lived a lie.”

  “I didn’t take advantage of her. What I did is nothing like what your bastard of a father did to Phee.” But guilt still smacked him all the same. He’d been selfish in his youth, focused on getting out and unconcerned with the cost.

  “Still burns, don’t it?” Boone leaned back, stretching his long legs and crossing them at the ankles.

  Voo sighed. “What I did to Artie was wrong. You were right, much as I hate to admit it. Still doesn’t explain why you took me leavin’ so personal.”

  “I don’t need to go through all the sordid details of my upbringing with you, but you may recall my ‘bastard of a father’ wasn’t exactly around.” He stood, turning his back to Voo and gathering dirty pots from the counters. “He didn’t teach me how to catch a ball or take me to see the Saints or fix my car or whatever the fuck it is dads are supposed to do. What I learned of how to survive in this world came from you. You were my family, my brother.”

  “And you were mine.”

  “I was never ashamed of you, Rafe. I never told a girl I didn’t know you so I could bang her, let alone marry her.” The pots dropped into the sink with a bang. “The worst part for me was after she died. I thought you’d come back to us. I looked for you, thinking where else would he go?”

  Voo flinched.

  “Instead, you moved to fuckin’ Texas and got yourself a whole new passel of brothers. Ones you’re so proud of, you’ve tattooed their emblem on your chest and wear their symbols on your clothes. So everyone knows you’re with them.” He slammed his fist on the sink, the sound echoing.

  “I learned from my mistakes. I wear who I am on the outside, now.” Voo stood. “I didn’t think I’d be welcome if I came back, and I couldn’t stand myself after I survived. I’d already screwed over all of you for her, then it all was taken in a flash. You want the truth, Boone? I couldn’t face you. Not then, and not when you came to Texas. I didn’t want to do it now.”

  “But you did. For Lex.” Boone turned to face him. “Not gonna lie, when I realized she had no idea about your life here, your roots, I thought it was Artie all over again.”

  “She knows the ugly truth now.”

  “That’s why I think you two got a real shot.”

  Voo doubted it—especially after he’d run from her again this morning.

  He waggled his eyebrows. “And if it doesn’t work, I made sure she has my number.”

  “Fuck you.” Voo laughed. He rubbed his forearm. “You remember the night we got drunk and went out back to the crossroads markers?”

  “To summon Baron Samedi and demand he fulfill all our wild desires?” Boone grinned. “How could I forget? I finally got Becky Evans to say ‘yes’ in the backseat of my old Caddy.”

  “Figures you’d ask Samedi for her.” He rolled his eyes. “I didn’t ask for love. I asked for money. I didn’t want to worry about food or rent—anything, ever again. And because of a hurricane, I got it. Grand-mére always said dark magic came with a cost.”

  A price Voo should’ve known would be steep. Paying for things had never been his forte.

  Boone pressed his lips into a line. “I’ve seen a lot of stuff on survivor guilt complexes, but this is a bit much. You think you caused Katrina?”

  “Mais non, but I didn’t just survive. I profited.” Like Apollo, Voo had risen while the city around them sank. At least he’d had the decency to leave town instead of rubbing it in people’s faces.

  “A lot of people profited. A lot of people died. Fate balances the scales, not you.” Boone shook his head. “Listen, I shouldn’t have gotten in your way with Artie. Maybe if I hadn’t pushed so hard, you would’ve come to your senses eventually.”

  “You’re as good at back-handed apologies as Phee is at back-handed compliments.”

  “The way I see it, you got a brand new life, a hotel and diner, a beautiful woman, and a family who wants you around. If you still think fate is punishing you, you might as well have died in the flood.”

  Voo was tired of people telling him he was dead, a stiff, holding on to graves, blah, blah, blah. He was moving on, living his life as best he could, and Boone was right—he had rebuilt something solid and good, something he was proud of. Didn’t sound like a dead man to him.

  An insidious voice inside him whispered, If you’re still alive, why keep Mt. Olympus? Living men have no use for gravestones.

  “Well, if you’re looking for a monetary way to relieve your guilt, I know a local business in need of charitable donations.” Boone folded his arms. “Could save me from firing a whole passel of staff at the end of the week.”

  “What?”

  “The latest from Devine. New management isn’t interested in keeping any of the staff. They’re bringing in their own people.”

  “Bastard,” Voo muttered.

  “Did you get to meet Alfonse? Overly fond of greenery, but he’s got a lot of promise as a cook. He’s been workin’ here ever since his parents died in the hurricane, takin’ care of his sisters. They live a street down from where you and Gran used to.”

  Would Alfonse and his sisters be eating beans and rice this weekend, worrying about where the next meal would come from?

  They’d have company. At least thirty people worked at the Chance, most likely with families to support. All out of a job because he was too stubborn to listen—to Lex or Phee or Boone. The idea of the Chance being controlled by the likes of Apollo and Beauregard gnawed at him. Was keeping his tombstone worth letting the Brulés lose their home?

  Lex’s words echoed in his head. I don’t even recognize you right now.

  She was right. Simon had needed Mt. Olympus, but Voo wasn’t him anymore. If he ever wanted a shot with Lex, he had to show her he could move on. Prove to her he was the kind of guy a woman could count on to do the right thing. Be the man she deserved.

  “Alright. You and I may have our differences, but we can both agree—fuck Apollo, right?”

  “Absolument.”

  Voo squared his shoulders and held out his hand. “Let’s get you the Chance back.”

  “Really?” Relief washed over Boone’s face. “You’re giving up Mt. Olympus?”

  “Oui. I no longer need a grave.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Lex woke up alone.

  Where is he?

  Had last night been a dream?

  Her body ached, thigh muscles too tight and small twinges tingling between her legs as she moved. Evidence of their passion showed on her flesh—from whisker burn to a small hickey on her right shoulder. She stroked the depression from Voo’s weight in her bed. The sheets still held hints of his earthy, spiced scent, but the cold morning light robbed the silent room of last night’s romantic air.

  Lex climbed from the bed and grabbed fresh clothes from her bag. She took her time in the shower, letting the hot water and steam clear her mind as it erased Voo’s scent from her skin. Dressing with efficient movements, she yanked her w
et hair into a straight ponytail and shoved her feet into worn sneakers.

  Once downstairs, she snagged the last cup of coffee from the brunch buffet before they cleared the service, then she stepped out onto the front porch. Phee and Josie sat at a corner patio table, the remains of breakfast on the plates before them.

  Josie looked like hell warmed over. She wore the same clothes she’d had on yesterday. Her face, scrubbed free of makeup, showed tear tracks under red eyes.

  Lex’s fingers tightened around her coffee cup. Maybe I should go back inside.

  “Come on over, honey child. We know you’re standin’ there.” Phee thumped her cane on the ground.

  Her mouth twisted. There was no escaping Phee. Crossing the porch, she dropped into a chair across from them.

  “Would you like something to eat? I can have Johnny get you a plate.” Josie lit a cigarette with trembling hands.

  “No, thank you.” Lex caught Josie’s eye. “Are you alright?”

  “You have every right in the world to never speak to me again, and you’re worried if I’m alright?” A tear rolled down her cheek as she laughed, the sound small and harsh.

  “What happened to you last night?” She hadn’t seen Josie at the party once.

  “I skipped straight on to Plan Z, in case the party didn’t work.” Josie wrapped an arm around herself and shivered. “Drove down to the swamps to meet with the Priestess at dawn. Just got back.”

  “Have you slept?”

  Josie rubbed her eyes. “Not sure I ever will again.”

  Phee refilled her cup from the carafe on the table and added something from a silver flask. She took a sip. “We’re still short what we owe. The party didn’t make enough.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “Maybe the bastard will get what he deserves in time to save the Chance.” Josie blinked away a tear. “But I doubt we’ll be so lucky.”

  “Did you know chance means luck?” Phee took her niece’s hand. “We Brulés take the good and the bad.”

  “There’s good luck, too?” Josie smiled wanly. She took a breath and looked at Lex. “I owe you an apology, I know. I’m not sure where to even begin.”

 

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