“You sell yourself short,” he said softly.
Jessica shrugged. She wasn’t when it was the truth. “It’s better than getting hurt.”
“Livin’ in a shell ain’t really livin’ at all”
Hadn’t she heard that over and over again? She shrugged again, trying to be nonchalant. “I’m used to it. I like not feeling anything, especially with men. I like my life simple and uncomplicated. Love is so messy.”
“Some say it’s not good if it ain’t dirty and sticky.”
He had a way of talking that set her nerves on fire. She wanted to ignore that desperate attraction to him. “Yeah, well, not me. I’m a clean freak. And I like freedom.”
As she talked, she sensed a growing tension in Gabriel, like some dark cloud building for a storm. She didn’t know what she’d said to piss him off, but she was definitely getting that vibe from him. Unfortunately, she couldn’t think of a way to dig herself out of her hole without really knowing what she’d done--only dug in deeper with her rambling. Finally, she dared to look up at him and saw his face had gone hard, his eyes cold and angry.
He stared at her a long, drawn moment, knotting her stomach with nervousness at his continued silence. It seemed he’d listened to every word she’d said--and he hadn’t liked a one of them. “When I kiss you, you don’t feel nothin’?”
She swallowed past the sudden lump in her throat. “No,” she lied, feeling a frightened anticipation swallowing her insides.
He was on her before she could blink, trapping her with an arm on either side of her head, his face inches from her own. He was so close, his breath fanned against her cheek and forehead, hot and spicy as the meal they’d consumed and the black coffee he’d drank.
Energy seemed to vibrate from him, forcing her to hold absolutely still, forcing her insides to react to him like a magnet. She could feel the heat of his breath on her face, felt enveloped by his subtle, masculine scent. Every nerve ending reached out to him, reached to feel his body press tightly against her. He didn’t close the distance, didn’t meld to her. Somehow, that near touching had her reacting more than if he’d been right up against her.
His voice low, husky, and full of promise, he said, “If I kiss you like this, your breath don’t catch?”
He settled his mouth over hers before she could stop him. Soft, coaxing, he pulled at her lips in a hungry, nibbling kiss that had her muscles quivering in response.
Jessica moaned softly, her mouth parting, willing his tongue to play with hers. He refused to oblige, teased her maddeningly, licking and sucking at her lips, keeping her hovering on the edge of anticipation. She couldn’t ever remember wanting to be invaded so badly in all her life, and he wouldn’t give her anything.
He retreated from her after a moment, a lazy, satisfied smile curling his lips, as if she’d reacted exactly the way he’d wanted her to. She wanted to growl in frustration, reach up and force his head back down to kiss her as deeply as she craved.
A small gasp escaped her throat as he brought a hand down from the wall, trailed his fingers through her hair and over her shoulder, brushing against the side of one breast. “If I touch you here, your heart don’t race?”
It did. Without even touching her, he made her heart gallop. A look, a smile, the way he walked--it was like some dream come true that he could be interested in her. Blood roared in her ears from the heavy pace. The only sound she could hear above it was his velvet drawl tormenting her with soft words and husky promises.
A thumb grazed over the soft peak of her nipple. She gasped at the faint touch, her pulse quickening, her nipple hardening as he moved in a slow, taunting circle. She tried to brace herself against the sensation, failed miserably. Her breast begged for more. She bit her lip to keep from asking him to touch her. He sensed her struggle, smiled, closed his hand over her breast. A piercing stab of pleasure arced through her as he massaged her with a possessive hand, as though he had every right to bend her to his will and make her want him.
His lips brushed against her earlobe, so soft, so teasing. He freed her breast, and she felt like crying out as he flattened his hand beneath it and moved a steady trail down her stomach, over her hips. His lips played with her earlobe, sucking at it, tugging the flesh with his teeth as his fingers skated up and down her hips.
Jessica’s hands clenched with the effort not to reach for him and tear the jeans off his body so he could take her right there in the street in front of god and anyone who cared to look. She itched to hold onto something, but if she moved, she’d break down--nothing would be left. She felt distracted, touched everywhere. She closed her eyes, tried to focus ... and it intensified the riotous feelings a hundred-fold. When his hand slipped up under her skirt, she hardly noticed, only felt that callused palm on her thighs, so deliciously rough, making her feel so sensitive. He teased the edges of her panties, and she trembled with excitement and trepidation.
No, this wasn’t what she wanted. But deep inside, she did. She wanted to open her thighs to him, but a voice of self-preservation nagged like an annoying gnat. Her legs closed against his hand, but he was insistent, moving inexorably toward her moist folds. The fine hairs on her thighs prickled with unfamiliar sensation.
“And here....” he whispered hot against her ear, arousingly invasive.
His fingers pushed past the flimsy barrier of her panties, delved into the top of her slit in one bold move, rubbing sensuously, achingly close to her clit. Jessica’s eyes flew open with shock. She found him watching her, lust in his smoky eyes. A rush of raw heat flushed her body. She pushed at his chest, pulled at his arm, squirming and unable to get away.
“You’re wet for me, petite,” he said, his voice tight and hoarse. “There’s no denyin’ it.” His muscles strained against her. His arm felt hard against her belly, his fingers foreign. This wasn’t supposed to happen.
“Stop it,” she whispered, trying to look away, at the street, at the shop, anywhere but him and his knowing eyes. He didn’t miss anything about her or her reaction. He was merciless and in charge.
“Why?” Do you feel sometin’ you ain’t supposed to?”
She rose on her toes, arching her head back as one finger flicked against her clit, igniting a wicked response within her. Her clitoris practically screamed yes!
A chain of pleasure unwound inside her, fierce and breathtakingly sudden. “No,” she said through gritted teeth, fighting the feeling when all she wanted to do was surrender and grind herself on his hand. She couldn’t. Not here, not out in the open where anyone could happen by at any moment. He shouldn’t make her feel so tempted to give in.
“I think you do.” He straightened from her as abruptly as he’d begun, leaving her feeling achingly unfulfilled and pissed that he’d begun something only to make a point.
“I never figured you for a coward,” he said, watching her straighten her dress.
Before Jessica knew it, she’d slapped him. Her palm cracked across his face, slamming the satisfied, challenging look right off it. She looked at him in horror, unable to believe she’d actually done physical harm to him. She hadn’t hit him hard enough to leave her hand print, but she’d struck him all the same. She looked from her hand to his face and back again, feeling numb from shock.
A dark fury settled over him. It was as obvious as the sky turning black and the wind howling through the trees.
Here was a man you didn’t mess with. She’d done what her mama had always warned her not to do--never get physical with a man. Cold dread slid down her spine.
Rough hands grabbed her biceps, forced her back against the wall. Male strength crushed against her, taking the breath from her body--muscles hard and angry against her soft curves. Jessica gasped in surprise as he brought his mouth down on hers, thrust his tongue past the part of her lips, deep inside. She tasted the anger in his kiss. Her lips burned under the heavy pressure, the rough glide of his tongue, in and out, leaving no space untouched. He was ravenous, consuming her silent pleas to st
op ... to go on....
Potent, male excitement pervaded her senses like flood gates thrown wide. He growled low in his throat, thrusting his hips against her as if in emphasis that he controlled her. She was his to do with as he willed and nothing would stop him. His hard cock rubbed against her in rough warning. One wrong move and he’d take her, willing or no.
Thrilling fear moved in a heady rush through her limbs like a shot of ecstasy. Her heart hammered in her chest. She wanted to cry out when he forced her legs apart with rough hands, but his mouth muffled her cries, kept taking and taking until she couldn’t give any more, and still he kissed her. She couldn’t breathe, could barely think. All the blood pooled between her thighs, rushing to that hot, insane place that wanted him, wanted the angry, hard feel of his cock deep inside. She pushed against his arms, needing to be free before she completely lost her mind, but one stroke against her sparsely covered cleft had her digging her nails into his flesh in mindless pleasure.
He tore his mouth from hers, gasping hoarsely against her throat, pumping against her in short, rough strokes, his fingers digging into the backs of her knees. Jessica scraped her nails down his back, arching into him, shaking her head as he dragged his teeth down her throat and groaned with pure satisfaction. It rumbled through her, her body echoing with primitive response.
“How much you want me to push you, cherie?” he asked hoarsely against the base of her throat. His tongue snaked out, bathed her. Her skin felt on fire as he lathed her collarbone and sucked against the crook of her neck. Hard.
She jerked to instant awareness, opening her eyes. Her hands went still as he stiffened against her. “It’s not a contest, you bastard.”
He met her gaze, his eyes unbelievably dark. His chest heaved, his arms shook with the effort to control himself. Slowly, with effort, he dropped her legs. “You fool yourself if you don’ believe life is a challenge. There’s only one prize in the end.”
Jessica pushed away from him, wiping her mouth and neck. She could smell him everywhere. Taste him. It made her weak. She couldn’t afford to be weak. “Just leave me alone. This is a mistake.”
“Why? Cause maybe you like me too much?”
She turned away from him. “I’m not answering that.”
Gabriel made a soft clucking noise as she walked away.
She could’ve ignored it--she should’ve. It might have just been her imagination, but she knew by now that Gabriel was a man to push a person’s buttons. He was determined to push her to her limits. And this was just too much. She’d damn well show the damned goading, confident bastard what she was made of.
She turned around, found him watching her expectantly, almost as though he was eager to see what she’d do. She took the two steps back to him, pressed one hand against his chest and pushed him back on the wall with little effort. She reached down and cupped his cock. His eyes widened, his mouth opened. Jessica wrapped her hand around his neck and forced him down for her kiss.
She gave him everything she had to give, forced her tongue into his mouth, massaged his erection, rubbed her body sensuously against his as she thrust in and out of his mouth. His whole body when rigid with shock. He sucked her tongue as though starved, and she could feel the beat of his heart quicken against her breast, felt his cock jump and throb against her palm. He groaned, reaching for her, but she wouldn’t allow it. When his hands touched her, she released his groin. His hands smacked against the brick façade behind him, making him helpless, vulnerable and wanting of only what she would give.
A triumphant thrill went through her, to have him under her control. Heady pleasure rocketed through her. Her palm burned with the feel of his cock trapped in her hand. She rubbed her thumb against the bare patch of skin exposed by one tear. He stiffened even more, sucked her tongue harder, hungrier, groaned into her mouth.
She pulled back before she could get too caught up in the moment, before she could lose her point. When she was done, it was him leaning back against the wall for support.
“I think I just won the game,” she said.
He was breathing heavily, watching her with a mixture of wariness and appreciation. “I think maybe you did too.”
She allowed herself one victorious smile and walked away.
Chapter Four
Jessica deeply regretted not heeding Gabriel’s earlier advice. It seemed like he’d delivered it days ago, but it had really only been a few hours. She also regretted everything that she’d allowed to happen between them. Jessica shook her head, trying to block the thoughts, the guilt. She didn’t want to dwell on it. She’d never been one to hash and rehash what she should’ve done then, what she shouldn’t have done there. She just put the whole thing out of her mind and resolved not to feel guilty for anything. At least, that’s what she’d do in an ideal world where she had ample self-control.
She didn’t. She didn’t have any self-control at all. Gabriel sucked it all out of her--literally.
After only a short time, he occupied her thoughts far more than he should’ve. She half wondered if she’d developed an obsession or something equally disturbing. Surely normal women didn’t feel and think so much about a man. Just remembering his kisses sent her into instant lust. She swore she could still taste him, like spicy gumbo and warm, creamy coffee. His scent definitely still lingered on her, rubbed into her neck like a cologne--not a strong smell, but potent in its own subtle way.
Everywhere she walked, when the wind picked up, she caught just a hint of him, in her hair, on her clothes, like a finger making the come hither motion right under her nose. If she hadn’t known better, she’d swear her nose was more sensitive. Everything seemed more ... sensorial now, scents sharper. Even the wind had its own distinct fragrance.
Her imagination was running overtime.
What she really should’ve done was gone back to the hotel and washed his scent off her skin. But she’d become so embroiled in her quest for the day, and smelling him on her gave her such a secret thrill--she hadn’t allowed herself the time.
It was nearly dark by the time she’d found out exactly where Shelly and Jacques LaValle were buried, and longer still to make it through the holiday traffic over there.
The cemetery was an above ground one, as most were in this part of the state due to heavy rains and soggy ground. The dusk created eerie shadows between the small mausoleums. Jessica walked along the path, broken shells and rock crunching under her sandals. She picked up her pace, eager to get out of the cemetery before dark. She knew she should’ve just come back tomorrow, but she didn’t think she could wait that long.
A feeling grew in her, a warning to get out of Louisiana as fast as she could. She couldn’t explain why the feeling persisted, only that it did. Nothing had happened to her to cause it, but just the same....
Being in a cemetery didn’t help matters, and she was sure her imagination had gone into hyper mode. She’d never felt superstitious before, but there was something inherently creepy about dark cemeteries that she’d never noticed. A hush settled on the grounds, expectancy that she couldn’t quite comprehend.
There wasn’t anyone around--everyone inside had been entombed long ago, but the silence, coupled with hazy, failing sunlight worked together to give her the willies.
She shuddered and called herself names, rubbing her arms as she continued on her way, eager to get this done and be gone.
She wasn’t sure what she’d accomplish by coming here, but she hoped it gave her a sense of peace for things and people lost to time.
The mausoleums created a labyrinth of narrow passages, standing above her head to block her sight of other lanes and surroundings. It was almost like walking through a tunnel, except she could still see the sky. In the dark, it would probably seem more like catacombs of some ancient city.
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