Cajun Spice (3 page)

They walked out at the exact moment one of the parades was going by, and Daisy caught some of the beads being thrown from the floats. She couldn’t help dancing a little to the music, especially when Marc laughed at her, caught her around the waist, and pulled her against his body for a little fancy two-step.

His very masculine body. Oh, yeah. Lean with hard muscle and generating enough heat to scorch her. His strong arms pulled her close to him, aligning their bodies, and whoops! That might be a big mistake. Even through the layers of their clothing, she could feel the hard, thick length of his cock, the shape branding itself against her body. Suddenly, unexpectedly, unbelievably, her nipples hardened in response and moisture dampened her thong. In all the months she’d been with Craig, he’d never elicited this kind of instantaneous response from her. It both frightened her and thrilled her.

Well, you said you wanted to find a sexy man who could make you forget everything, at least for a while. Here he is.

This was so unlike her. Not that she didn’t have needs and passion, but her relationships had been so proper all her life. And didn’t that one word exactly sum everything up. Her entire life had been proper, from the men she dated to the career she’d chosen. But this disaster with Craig? It made her want to push all that aside, be wild for once in her life. Do something crazy.

Like hook up with a strange man!

Add a dash of Cajun spice to her life.

Wild, but maybe what she needed right now was wild. The possibilities made the pulse in her core throb and cream dampened her thong.

As if suddenly aware of the erotic response between them, Marc released her, linked his fingers through hers, and tugged her along the street.

“I’d say we need to cool off a little, darlin’. Think you’re ready for another drink?”

He pulled her around to look at him, tugging her out of the path of foot traffic. Those electric blue eyes had darkened to the color of a stormy ocean and she could swear little flames danced in the irises. A muscle ticked in his jaw as he stared at her, and she realized he was also affected by whatever was happening between them. It both electrified her and frightened her. She was sure Marc Doucet was way out of her league sexually, but she couldn’t seem to care.

Then, as if giving himself a mental shake, his lips curved in that panty-melting grin and he towed her along the sidewalk.

“Drink,” he repeated. “Pat O’Brien’s is right near here. I think this calls for a Hurricane.”

She wasn’t sure a drink with that name would settle down the storm of emotions the mere touch of this sexy Cajun’s hand set off inside her, but she hoped it would at least take the edge off.

The bar had been jam-packed, so they’d gotten their drinks in the special Mardi Gras go-cups. Now Daisy was doing her best to keep from being jostled and spilling the drink she was holding.

“I don’t know how other people do it,” she remarked when they stopped at a corner.

“Do what,
chere?
”

God! His voice flowed through her like warm molasses.

“Manage to walk around without dumping their drinks all over themselves like I almost did. They must be more graceful than I am.”

He gave her a long, assessing look. “I’d say there’s nothing wrong with your graces,
chere.
It’s other people who are clumsy.”

She laughed. “That’s a great line you’ve got, Cajun.”

He gave her a heated look. “That’s no line, darlin’. Believe me.” He took her nearly empty cup from her and tossed it in a nearby trash basket. “Listen, we’ve got a few more days of this craziness. How about if we go back to the hotel and do some people watchin’ from the balcony. Sound good?”

Go to her room or his in the hotel? Danger signs flashed in her brain. But again that little voice in her head said,
Go for it. You deserve it.

“Sure. Sounds great.”

Since cabs were barely moving through the streets and the hotel was only a few blocks away, they walked back. Marc kept his fingers linked with hers, the warmth of his touch insinuating itself throughout her. By the time they reached the hotel, every one of her nerves was tingling and unbidden erotic thoughts danced around in her brain.

It didn’t seem to matter that she’d known this man for less than twelve hours, or that she knew nothing about him. Or that she was throwing caution to the winds, something she’d never been prone to do. When she’d decided to make this trip, when she’d boarded the plane earlier in the day, she had been determined to find something to wipe Craig Myers out of her life. Well, it appeared Marc Doucet was the answer, so who was she to turn away from it? Besides, when was the last time a really hot guy like this seemed as turned on to her as she was to him?

They eased their way through the mob in the lobby and rode up to their floor in a jammed elevator car. In the hallway, Marc took her hand again and gave her a penetrating look.

“Next question. Your place or mine?”

Daisy wet her lips. “I, um, have a balcony with my room. Do you?”

He nodded. “I do. I just thought you’d be more relaxed in yours.”

“Oh. Well, that’s very thoughtful of you.” Excerpt then she couldn’t get up and leave if she wanted to.

Go with the flow, Daisy. Go with the flow.

He cupped her elbow in a now familiar gesture. “Come on. Let’s see what’s going on out there now.”

Her hand shook so much it took her three tries with the key card to unlock her door. She could feel Marc’s eyes studying her as if he was assessing her, waiting for her to change her mind. Letting out a breath, she threw the door wide and gestured for him to follow her inside. She went at once to the shutter doors at the french windows and threw them open, giving them access to the balcony.

“I think there’s a little second-line parade coming,” she said, standing out on the balcony. “You know, the people who follow the parades just to enjoy it. Oh, wait!” Her face heated. “Of course you know that. You’re a native.” She gave herself a mental slap. “Anyway, I hear the trumpets.”

He was beside her instantly, one arm casually around her waist. She seemed to sizzle every place he touched her.

“That’s one of the things I always loved about this city,” he told her in a low voice. “It sure knows how to show people a good time.”

In the street below them, parasols twirled and people high-stepped as the brass instruments filled the air with a typical New Orleans jazz tune. Daisy leaned forward a little to see them and Marc pulled her back against him.

“Whoa,
chere.
Don’t want you to fall over the railing.”

She turned in the circle of his arms, instantly bathed in his masculine scent, his very maleness more overpowering than any cologne or aftershave. He bent his head slightly, waiting for her to signal him to proceed or back off. She stood poised in that position for an interminable minute, their gazes locked. A little voice in her head urged her to break away. This wasn’t her. She didn’t do things like this. But then she thought of Craig’s betrayal and how much of her life she’d wasted on him and others like him. Another voice said,
Go for it. Do it. Let it all out for a change.

Daisy stared into Marc’s eyes and, for a brief moment, something indefinable flashed in his eyes, as if he was waging some internal battle with himself. She waited, wondering if he was going to pull away from her, after she’d just given herself a mental shove to go all in with this. Then he blinked and it was gone, and she wondered if she’d imagined it.

She opened her mouth a little, and that was all the invitation he needed. He lowered his head even more until his mouth touched hers, a light caress as he brushed his lips back and forth. When she parted her lips, he licked over them, tasting the soft surface before tracing the outline of her mouth.

Oh god, he tasted like seven kinds of sin. She opened wider, inviting him inside, and he didn’t hesitate. He cupped her cheeks, holding her head in place so he could take his pleasure. Soon they were doing an erotic dance with their tongues, savoring the soft inner skin of each other, licking and sampling, until she couldn’t breathe with the intensity of it. Her heart was beating so fast she could feel it in her ears and her pulse rivaled the intensity of a jungle drum. She was overcome with an insane desire to rip their clothes off and run her fingers over every delicious, naked masculine inch of him.

When Marc broke the kiss, it took her a moment to focus again. He slid his fingers into her hair, twisting her curls around them, holding her face close to his. She could see the hint of late-day scruff on his sculptured jaw and the nose with the tiny bump that indicated it had been broken at some time in the past. He held her head immobile while his gaze burned into her center. The blue in his eyes had darkened to a deep navy, and the heat in them singed her skin. Her limbs liquefied, and she had to grip his wrists to balance herself.

“I think we’re goin’ to have our own Mardi Gras celebration,
chere
.”

His words blistered her like matches, and the pulse in the walls of her pussy beat so hard she felt it thundering in every one of her erogenous spots.

“Are we?” The words came out as a whisper.

“Seems so.” He stroked her back, tracing the ridge of her spine and slipped his hand beneath her tee shirt.

His touch against her skin was as hot as a brand, and she shivered at that simple contact. Pressing against the dip of her waist, he pulled her more tightly to him, his shaft imprinting itself on her mound. His breath a hot breeze against her skin, he trailed a line of kisses along her jaw and behind her ear, taking a moment to gently nip her lobe. Sensations cascaded through her, sending urgent messages to her breasts and her pussy.

His scent filled her nostrils, the hint of aftershave blending with the clean masculine fragrance of him. When he slid his mouth over hers and thrust his tongue inside again, she moaned in sheer delight. The touch of his lips, the steady rub of his hand, the feel of him against her sent her pheromones into overdrive. She gave a small cry of disappointment when he lifted his mouth from hers.

“It’s okay, darlin’. I just think we need to take this inside. Don’t want to put on a show for the tourists. Besides, I want someplace more comfortable.”

He nudged her back a little, reached for her hand, and tugged her into the room. Need pulsed between them like a living thing. Wrapped in an erotic fog, she let him lead her to the bed where he stopped, took her face in his palms, and brushed a soft kiss over her mouth. At the touch of his mouth, she pressed herself against him, consumed with a sudden need to crawl inside him and wrap him around herself.

“I’m going to take good care of you,
chere.
I promise.”

With infinite care and precision, he began to undress her. When the tee shirt came off, he lowered his gaze to her breasts and the pink lace bra containing them. The ravenous look in his eyes sent another shiver skating over her. Very gently, he traced the upper swell of her breasts with a fingertip, first one then the other, before giving each of her nipples a gentle squeeze. She felt his touch everywhere, electricity jolting straight to her core. Then he lowered his head and sucked one of them into his mouth, fabric and all. Daisy trembled so much she had to grip his arms to steady herself.

She certainly wasn’t a novice where sex was concerned, but she had never responded to a man like this, to nothing but simple contact. It fogged her mind and melted her bones. Her pulse pounded in her veins as her heartbeat ratcheted up. The heat of his mouth on her taut bud electrified her. She couldn’t hold back the moan that wiggled its way up from deep inside her. He moved his mouth to her other nipple and the pulse of heat increased. When at last he lifted his head, leaving those taut buds that were now so sensitive and throbbing with sensation, she felt a terrible loss.

“No,” she whimpered.

The smile he gave her singed her all the way to her toes.

“Don’t worry, darlin’. We’re just getting’ started here.” He licked his way across the swell of her breasts before opening the clasp of her bra and stripping it from her body.

She had a sudden, urgent need to put her hands on him, too, desperate to touch his skin, to run her hands over him, to feel all that hard muscle beneath her fingers. She tried to tug his shirt from his jeans, but she was shaking so hard that she fumbled the process.

His laugh was a low rumble in her ears. “Anxious, are you? I can help.”

He lifted his hands from her long enough to strip his shirt over his head and toss it to the side. She stared hard at his chest, at the firm wall of muscle covered with a dusting of curly dark hair. When she smoothed her hands over it, the hair was soft beneath her touch. On impulse she flicked her fingernails over his bronze nipples. She was rewarded with his sharp intake of breath so she did it again. Drawn by a desire to taste him, she licked a line down the center of his chest.

“You’re killin’ me,
chere
.” He grabbed her wrists and lowered her hands to her sides. “My turn again.”

He lowered his head and fastened his mouth again onto one aching nipple, sucking it into his mouth and biting lightly on the hard bud. Daisy felt it in every pore, every nerve ending, every sensitive point. She was so lost in sensation, she barely realized it when he flicked open the button on her shorts and lowered the zipper. Then she felt the slightly rough surface of his palms as he slid his hands inside her shorts, heard his sharp intake of breath when he found her bare ass. He strolled his fingers to the cleft in her buttocks, making an “mmm” sound when he found her thong.

Daisy reached for the fly of his jeans, but he squeezed her ass, hard.

“When I take those off,
chere
, we’ll be getting down to serious business.”

“And this isn’t serious?” She pressed her face to his chest and inhaled his incredible scent.

“It’s the first step,” he assured her. “You let me know if we’re doing it right, okay?”

Before she realized what he was doing, he’d lifted her and carried her to the bed, stripped off her shorts and thong, and placed her with her legs spread wide. Daisy wasn’t used to men looking at her with such ravenous hunger, as if they only wanted one meal and she was it. She flushed with heat, skin warmed as if his gaze was a torch skimming over her. The pulsing of her inner walls accelerated until she felt the pounding in every vein and muscle.