Tempt Me (8 page)

Gabriel lowered his head gingerly back to the pillow and closed his eyes. “You could be speaking Japanese backward with a lisp and I’d be able to piece together what you’re talking about more clearly than I can now. Maybe I have a concussion.”

“Oh, he’s funny. No one told me he was funny.” Bethany, apparently off the phone now, reappeared beside the bed.

Gabriel’s lips twitched and he peered at her through his lashes. “Ouch.”

She smiled. “Sorry. Any idea why I heard a voice telling me where to find my best friend’s brother?”

BD laughed. “Do you see why I love her? She’s as direct as she is sexy.” He wrapped one arm around her waist and tugged her against him, lifting her shirt and kissing her stomach before she batted him away. She sent an apologetic glance to Gabriel, but there was no need. BD made his own rules, even without his previous abilities.

The man sent Gabriel a wink. “How about we let him rest and heal for now, Blue Eyes? I see you’re dying of curiosity, as am I. Who is this man who seduced Rousseau’s sister and transformed into a Crescent City vigilante all in one night?” He stood and embraced his wife. “I know how hard it will be for you to restrain yourself from getting answers, but if you give me a chance, I will do my best to distract you until morning.”

Bethany bit her upper lip, as though considering his offer. “Your best, huh?”

BD slid a palm down to cup her hip, uncaring or no longer aware of his audience. “Yes. I’ll even do that one thing you love so much. Where I take your legs and—”

Bethany placed a finger against his lips, stopping his words. But she couldn’t quite hide the expression of arousal and interest.

The sensual intimacy of the look they shared was so un-apologetically loving, so honestly sexual, that it tore the breath from Gabriel’s lungs.

He closed his eyes again, focusing on slowing his breathing so they would think he’d fallen asleep. He didn’t want to see any more of this.

He remembered hearing his mother tell him about BD and Bethany’s unique love story. How they’d found each other with the help of the voodoo spirits. A match made in heaven, with Papa Legba and the Ghede family’s blessing.

He’d been told by his teachers that his mother worshipped demons. But he hadn’t learned about matchmaking demons in catechism. Evil didn’t care about the happiness of a single man and woman. Evil didn’t create what Gabriel saw between Bethany and BD.

Michelle and Ben were like that, too. What they felt for each other was so clear for the world to see, it was almost painful to watch.

Was that love, then?

His father had married again and again, and with each new woman he became a new man. His last wife, the hippie Wiccan, was the reason behind his father’s sudden change of heart. When he’d told Gabriel that he’d lied, that it had been his decision, not his mother’s, to take their son away... it had been a shock to Gabriel’s system.

But his father’s spiritual epiphany had been more about pleasing his latest conquest than out of any concern for his son. Not love, just weakness.

Women had professed to love Gabriel often enough through the years, women who were drawn to his family’s money or the air of authority he’d always had around him, but he didn’t think he’d ever truly seen it before. Not what he was seeing now.

He heard their whispers, the footsteps heading toward the bedroom door, and the click as it shut behind them. He breathed a sigh of relief. He needed time to think about what had happened tonight.

Black-eyed, ironfisted wild man? Was that what BD had said? Surely he hadn’t been referring to him. The last thing Gabriel had remembered, he was getting his ass kicked, with that mysterious darkness swirling around him, and Angelique on his mind. He hadn’t seen the monster BD had described.

Had he become one?

Emmanuel had said it wasn’t possession, but if not that, then what? And where had it come from? It seemed to have been dragged out from corner shadows when the group of would-be attackers surrounded him.

Sure, this time he’d been paying attention, but he still had no idea what the darkness was or why it was drawn to him. Emmanuel, no matter what he said he wanted to do, was
not
helping.

Would BD know the answers? Maybe that was why his friendly ghost-but-not-a-ghost had whispered in Bethany’s ear the way Gabriel believed he had. If BD really did have some knowledge about this, he had only two important questions.

What exactly was he becoming? And how could he make it stop?

He was wondering if he had enough strength to get up and see if they had anything to eat when a soft female moan drifted through the wall.

“Perfect,” he mumbled. He was the bruised and battered houseguest of a man with a legendary sexual appetite and his willing wife. You’d think they would have planned ahead and invested in thicker walls.

Another moan, this one louder, had Gabriel gritting his teeth. Now he was the voyeur. Only, in his mind, it wasn’t Bethany’s pleasure he was hearing.

Angelique had made a sound just like that when he’d rocked her against that tree. When he’d laid her on the ground and slipped his fingers inside her tight, wet heat. Sweet sounds. Greedy sounds. He wanted to hear them again.

His fist clenched around the sheet covering him, the aches and pains in his body doing nothing to hinder the rush of blood and need flowing directly to his cock.

God, he wanted her. More than he’d imagined possible. One taste wasn’t enough. Despite all the logic that told him he should stay as far away from her as humanly possible—for her safety and his—it hadn’t been enough.

He wanted her naked beneath him. On top of him. In a bed, against a tree—he didn’t care. He
needed
to be inside her. He needed what only she could give him.

In his mind he saw her walk into the room. So damn sexy. And she knew it. She smiled coyly at him and her dimples deepened. Dimples he wanted to lick.

Her breasts were flushed with desire, her hips swaying to a music only she could hear as she walked toward him wearing nothing but a red lace thong.

Gabriel moaned, one hand slipping beneath the sheets to grip his erection. The only part of him that hadn’t been hurting... until now.

His fantasy Angelique’s smile turned into a moue of concern, her hand reaching out to skim along his calf and up to his thigh. When she reached his hip he held his breath, but she hesitated.

“Yes, touch me. You won’t hurt me. I’ve been dying to feel your hands on me.”

His dream girl didn’t disappoint. She dragged the sheet slowly off his body, revealing his bruised torso, licking her lips at the first sight of his arousal.

He wanted that, too. Wanted her mouth on him. Those sweet berry lips. His fist tightened as he thought about how soft they’d be on his skin.

Angelique read his mind. Kneeling on the bed, the curve of her ass making his mouth water as she bent to wrap her lips around the head of his erection.

She moaned and Gabriel lifted his hips, needing more. Just. A little more.

“Please.” She had him begging. But she held her mouth just out of reach, teasing and tempting him, even in his own damn fantasy. “Angelique, baby, I need...”

She laughed, that musical sound he remembered, and cupped her breasts in her hands. He looked down to see her slipping his cock between the two velvet globes and growled. “Jesus.”

Yes
.

His bad, brazen angel. She knew just what he wanted. What he needed. The bed beneath him squeaked and his heart was pounding loud in his ears. Passion pulsed through his body, tearing through him, pulling a harsh groan out of his tight throat as he came.

He could see his arousal coating her breasts, watching it glisten on her skin. He wanted to clean her with his tongue. Start all over again. But he was too tired, his body demanding rest.

He fell asleep to the image of her smiling, the light around her keeping all the shadows at bay.

ANGELIQUE STIRRED HER SODA ABSENTLY WITH A STRAW,
lost in thought. The soulful jazz singer that was playing piano on the stage behind her seemed to have her number. She’d always loved this bar. It was small and cozy, and the musicians never disappointed. Almost never. Tonight, however, the headliner was singing one song after another about the man she couldn’t get out of her mind, the man who got away, or the man who didn’t know she existed in the first place.

Okay, that wasn’t a song, but it should be. Maybe she should suggest it.

It had been five days, nearly six, since she’d seen him. She was trying to be patient, but it was harder than that month she’d attempted giving up chocolate. And she really loved chocolate.

After her talk with Bethany last week, she’d decided to take a few days to cool off. To take in what had happened between her and Gabriel. Try to piece together what she’d learned.

She’d wanted him to notice her. And boy, had he ever. The effect had been earthshaking.

Chasing after Gabriel was more than a challenge. The way he made her feel, it could be downright dangerous. Partly because the man was obviously struggling through something more complicated than simple lust. After what she’d heard, she could hardly blame him for his attitude. She’d probably be pissed off at the world, too, if she’d grown up the way he had.

And still she wanted him.

A small—okay, large—part of her had been hoping he would come to her apartment and demand they finish what they’d started the other night. The way he did each night in her dreams.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Just thinking about what he’d done to her in those dreams made her body heat. Sent a fine tremor along her limbs. She was no prude, but she’d had no idea her imagination was that inventive. Why was she so drawn to him?

“Rum.”

Angelique looked up at the sound of the deep, male voice. A man with bruises along his jaw and bloodshot eyes was standing at the bar beside her. He was massive. Taller and broader than her brother, and that was saying something. His skin was flushed and his lips had a cruel, knowing curve. When the bartender set a glass in front of him, he pushed it away. “Bring the bottle.”

She squirmed. One of those. She glanced back down at her drink, hoping he’d take the hint.

He didn’t. “You mooning over a man, girl? You should join me for a drink. It dulls the pain.”

“No, thank you.”
Please go away,
she shouted mentally. The last thing she needed was to spend the evening dodging a drunk’s advances. Especially one who felt so . . . violent. Off-putting.

“He isn’t worth it. I can tell. You are too young and pretty to take on someone else’s troubles and make them your own.”

The female echo of, “Geaux Tigers!” made Angelique beam with relief. She twirled around on her barstool to face the two women beaming behind her. They were finally here.

She stood and shrugged at the man. “Thanks, but I already have a date.”

Her friends spread their arms wide, pulling her in for a hug, and she laughed. She’d missed them more than she’d realized.

“You made it.”

“Hello? Remember us? ‘Kelly and Ive, always come, never leave’? Did you think we
wouldn’t
find a way to get here? Especially after those last few e-mails. So mysterious.”

Ive grinned at Kelly’s words, nodding. “Exactly. We both read your sister-in-law’s book, by the way. Woo,
bebe
, was it
good
. Every last filthy, raunchy page. Now we’re dying of curiosity. Is he real? Or have you been pulling our legs?”

Angelique guided them to an open table in the back, ignoring the chuckling bartender who’d overheard them. She could only hope they hadn’t given that strange man any ideas. “Shh, yes, he’s real. And very married to a fantastic woman.”

Kelly slid into the small booth, a humorous pout on her lips. “Well, damn. I was all set for a New Orleans Bone Daddy hunt.”

Angelique looked at the two of them and felt herself relaxing. This was exactly what she needed. Ive and Kelly had been her roommates since her first year in college. They’d been together through every cram session, every celebration, and more than a few ice cream runs and crying jags.

They were close. Especially those two. Ive had another year until she was done with pre-med, so Kelly had decided to stay in Baton Rouge and work instead of heading back home to Chicago so they could keep the small apartment they had lived in for the last few years. Well, that was the reason she gave, but Angelique knew there was more to it than that. Kelly didn’t want to go home. Not yet. It was something else the three of them had always had in common.

Kelly popped back up to order drinks at the bar, and Ive crossed her arms, eyeing Angelique sternly. “Something’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Angelique assured her friend. “A lot more family togetherness than I’m used to, but other than that everything is fine.”