Текст книги "Easy Melody"
Автор книги: Kristen Proby
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Easy Melody
Book Three in the
Boudreaux Series
By
Kristen Proby
EASY MELODY
Book Three in The Boudreaux Series
Kristen Proby
Copyright © 2015 by Kristen Proby
All Rights Reserved. This book may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. All characters and storylines are the property of the author and your support and respect is appreciated. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Cover Art:
Photography by: Kristen Proby
Models: John Kirton and Ashley Duty
Cover Design: Okay Creations
About the Author
New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Kristen Proby is the author of the popular With Me in Seattle series. She has a passion for a good love story and strong characters who love humor and have a strong sense of loyalty and family. Her men are the alpha type—fiercely protective and a bit bossy—and her ladies are fun, strong, and not afraid to stand up for themselves. Kristen spends her days with her muse in the Pacific Northwest. She enjoys coffee, chocolate, and sunshine. And naps. Visit her at KristenProby.com.
Website
Goodreads
Other Books by Kristen Proby:
The Boudreaux Series:
Easy Love and on audio
Easy Charm and on audio
Easy Kisses (preorder)
The With Me In Seattle Series:
Come Away With Me and on audio
Under the Mistletoe With Me and on audio
Fight With Me and on audio
Play With Me and on audio
Rock With Me and on audio
Safe With Me and on audio
Tied With Me and on audio
Breathe With Me and on audio
Forever With Me and on audio
Easy With You
The Love Under the Big Sky Series, available through Pocket Books:
Loving Cara and on audio
Seducing Lauren and on audio
Falling for Jillian and on audio
Baby, It’s Cold Outside and on audio
An Anthology with Jennifer Probst, Emma Chase, Kristen Proby, Melody Anne and Kate Meader
Table of Contents
About Kristen Proby
Other Books by Kristen Proby
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Epilogue
Other Books by Kristen Proby
Prologue
~Callie~
“What do you mean, he left it to me?” I ask, leaning forward and pounding my fist on Bernie’s desk. “He knew I didn’t want it!”
Bernie shrugs and sits back in his creaky chair, folds his hands over his round belly and sucks on a peppermint from the jar on his old oak desk. “Doesn’t change that he left the bar and all of its contents to you, Callie.”
“And all of its debt, no doubt,” I mutter and rub my fingertips on my forehead. “I have a life in Colorado, Bernie. What am I supposed to do?” I sit up straight as a brilliant thought occurs to me. “I’ll sell it!”
“Well, here’s the thing.”
“Don’t tell me that there’s a clause in the will that says that I have to marry a virgin and live in a haunted castle for a year in order to inherit,” I reply dryly. “That’s cliché, even for my dad.”
Bernie grins. “No, nothing that dramatic.”
“Good.”
“Your dad tried to sell it a few times over the years, but it never sold. It needs some work, Callie.”
I stare at him, confused. “He never told me he tried to sell.”
Not that I spoke to him often.
“He never even got a nibble.”
“But, it’s located in the heart of the French Quarter. Surely, someone would want to buy it, fix it up and either flip it or run it.”
Bernie’s face transforms into a smug smile. “Perhaps someone would.”
My eyes narrow. “I’m not buying it.”
“No, you’re inheriting it.” He leans forward again, and his brown eyes soften. Eyes just like my dad’s. “I loved your father, despite all of his faults. He loved three things in his life: your mother, The Odyssey, and you.”
I refuse to cry in front of my uncle.
“He was awfully fond of whiskey too,” I reply, but he just narrows his eyes at me. “Uncle Bernie—”
“You’ve been spending all these years up in Denver, running that club and flipping houses, and your dad was real proud of you. But maybe it’s time to come home, darlin’.”
Denver is home.
“I’ll flip it,” I reply and stand to leave his office. “I have savings.”
“Call me if you need me,” he calls as I saunter out of his office and down to my rental car, then swear like a sailor when I see the parking ticket on the windshield.
This isn’t my fucking day.
I pull my phone out of my purse as I pull into traffic and call my long time boyfriend, Keith, who owns Boom, a popular nightclub in Denver that I also happen to manage.
“Babe,” he answers, making me smile.
“Hey.”
“Are you coming back yet?” he asks. I can hear voices in the background and check the time. Mid-afternoon. They’re getting ready for tonight at the club, I’m sure.
“So, there might be a snag in that,” I reply and change lanes, headed downtown to the bar. “Turns out that I have some work to do here regarding my dad’s bar.”
“How long will that take?” he asks, his voice calm but hard.
How long will it take to flip a bar and make a profit? Too long.
“Honestly, I might be here a couple of months.” I cringe. “But I can commute back and forth.”
“Actually, Cal, I’ve been wanting to talk to you anyway, and this is as good of a time as any. Remember when I asked you to come in for a meeting last week?”
“The morning my dad died,” I reply, not at all wanting to hear the next words to come out of Keith’s mouth. Because I’m pretty sure it’s not good.
“I think it’s time for you to move on, Callie. You’re a great manager, but I feel like the club has stalled.”
I pull into a parking space, throw the car in park, and stare straight ahead. “Bullshit. You’ve never made a secret that you can be a dick, Keith. That’s something we have in common, and over the two years we’ve been together, we’ve never lied to each other.”
“You’re right.” He sighs and I can picture him loosening his tie. “It’s time for us to move on, Cal.”
“You’re firing me and breaking up with me?” This day just keeps getting better and better.
“I’m going to offer you a very generous severance, Callie.”
I want to tell him to shove the money, but I’m not that stupid. “Why?”
“It’s time,” he replies simply.
“Because you don’t do forever,” I add, remembering all the times he’s warned me of that very fact in the past.
“I’m sorry, Callie. I’ll give you an excellent letter of recommendation. And if you ever need anything, all you have to do is call. In fact, if you decide to relocate to New Orleans, I’ll have your things moved for you.”
“For someone breaking up with me, you’re being very nice.”
“There’s no reason not to be,” he replies and then sighs. “I care about you, Cal. We had a great time together, and you did a good job in my club, but you’re just not my forever girl, and it’s time to move on.”
I nod, swallowing hard.
“Thank you.”
I end the call and stare at my phone for a long few minutes. My dad is dead, and I just lost a job I love and a man that I tried to talk myself into loving all in one fell swoop.
I guess I’m staying after all.
I climb out of the car and stand on the sidewalk, staring at the outside of The Odyssey. If the inside is as bad as the outside, this is going to be one very expensive project.
I open the door, surprised to find it unlocked, and a million memories come washing over me. The floor hasn’t been refinished since I was a kid. The wood is original, but needs to be repaired and resurfaced. My heels click and echo through the dark, empty room. The tables and chairs are the same from my childhood as well, most looking much more wobbly. The windows are wide but dingy, making the space feel even darker.
The bar is huge, spanning one long wall. It was an antique when Dad bought it thirty years ago, and I’m pleased to see that it’s been well taken care of.
Suddenly, the door to the back room swings open and in walks Adam Spencer. He halts when he sees me, his sexy eyes traveling up and down as he takes me in. He sets the case of wine on the bar and hurries to me, lifts me in his arms and turns a circle, making me catch my breath.
“Finally decided to stop by, eh?” he asks as he sets me down.
“I figured I’d see what Dad left me.” I meet his eyes and shrug. “Thank you.”
“For?”
“Taking care of Dad. Taking care of this place.” I pace away, cross my arms, then turn back to him. “For loving me.”
“You’re my best friend,” he replies. “And your dad was good to me. Always has been.”
“He should have left this to you.”
Adam shakes his head, his brown eyes kind and calm and maybe sad. “It belongs to you. And I’m here to help you in any way you need me.”
“You’re a good friend.”
“I’m a kick-ass friend,” he replies. “Just don’t expect me to call you Boss Lady or Your Highness.”
“What about She Who Is Always Right?”
“Not a chance.”
I laugh for the first time in a week and feel my chest loosen, just a bit. “I’m staying.”
“What about Keith?” he asks.
I shake my head, not ready to talk about it, and sigh. “I’m going to overhaul this place. Maybe flip it.”
“Why not keep it? You’ll make a killing.” Adam winks. “With your expertise at fixing stuff up, and my charm, you can’t lose.”
“Maybe. I’ll think about it.”
I run my hand over the smooth wood of the bar and feel the sadness settle in. “Dad’s gone, Adam.”
“I know.” He rubs wide circles over my back.
“I can’t stay upstairs.” My dad lived over the bar in an apartment, and I just don’t have it in me to live there. Too many bad memories.
“You’ll stay with me until you get stuff figured out.”
I cock a brow.
“I have a guest room,” he says defensively.
“I’ll take it.” I sigh and lay my forehead on my arm. “Who would have thought I’d be back here fifteen years after I left?”
“Not me, that’s for sure. But here you are.”
“Here I am.”
Chapter One
~Declan~
I’m performing at The Odyssey for the first time in three months tonight. It’s been closed for renovations, and I admit, I miss it.
Fuck it, I miss her.
And I barely know her.
What that’s all about, I have no idea. I don’t get hung up. There are too many women out there, in all shapes and sizes, to enjoy. I’ve never been the type to think about monogamy.
Not that I’m a prick. I just make sure women know the score before I score.
But I admit, I’m looking forward to seeing the feisty owner of The Odyssey, almost as much as I’m looking forward to seeing what she’s done with the place.
According to her bar manager, and my friend, Adam, the transformation has been incredible.
I carry my guitar through the front door, noticing the new sign and paint job on the outside of the building, and then take a deep breath as my eyes adjust to the dimmer light inside.
Holy fuck, Adam wasn’t kidding.
“Hey!” the man himself calls from behind the bar, tossing me a smile. “I’m glad you’re early. I want to show you around.”
“This is amazing,” I say, meaning every word. The floor has been refinished and polished to a honey blond, gleaming where sunlight streams through. New tables and chairs are sprinkled around the room, and new stools sit in front of the bar, which has also been polished.
“You haven’t seen anything yet,” Adam replies with a smile. “Wait until I show you the roof.”
“The roof?” I grin and set my guitar on the stage, then turn and almost swallow my tongue as Callie herself comes down the new staircase on the far side of the room. She’s in her signature killer heels, pink today. Her arms and cleavage are showcased in a simple black tank top and those mile-long legs are mostly bare, thanks to a ripped pair of cut-off denim shorts.
All I have to do is take one look at Callie and know that there’s a God.
And I hope to make her call out his name in thanks in the very near future.
“Declan,” she says.
“Callie,” I reply and feel my lips twitch into a smile as she crosses to the bar and sets a clipboard down. “Nice place you have here.”
Her blue eyes flare in happiness. “Thank you.”
“I was just telling Declan that I’ll take him up and show him the roof,” Adam says just as his phone rings. “Crap. I have to take this. Cal, will you show him?”
“She’ll show me,” I reply, still smiling.
Callie simply shrugs. “As you can see, we have new tables and chairs. I also replaced the stage area. It was so old, I’m surprised you never fell through it before.”
“It held up,” I say and follow her as she leads me toward the stairs. I’m eye-level with her ass, and I’m fucking salivating. “I didn’t know there was anything up here. I figured it was storage or something.”
“It was my dad’s apartment,” she says simply. “I tore it out, made most of it open so it’s now outside seating, and kept some of it covered for the bar."
We walk out to the best rooftop bar I’ve ever seen, and I’m no stranger to bars. She found an antique bar to match the one downstairs, and it’s indeed covered, with maybe half a dozen tables and chairs nearby. But the outdoor space is just plain kick ass.
“Wow,” I breathe and stop, hands on hips, glancing around. Couches are grouped together around gas fireplaces and covered with red, blue and yellow umbrellas to block the hot sun. But my eyes are drawn back to the woman responsible for all of it. I’d thought it was all in my head, that she couldn’t possibly be as beautiful as I thought she was.
But nope. She’s hot.
“This is the best part,” Callie says with a smile that I’ve rarely seen and leads me to the railing to look out over the Quarter. We can see right into Jackson Square. People are bustling about, munching on beignets, wandering through shops. Music from street performers drift up, tickling my ears.
The saxophonist near Café du Monde is damn good.
We lean here, side by side, and take in the Quarter.
“This is the part I missed.” Callie’s voice is soft, softer than I’ve ever heard it.
“What’s that, sugar?” I ask, not looking over at her, but she’s stiffened up, as if she didn’t mean to say that out loud.
“The Quarter,” she replies and takes a deep breath. “All of the people.”
“There are a lot of them,” I agree. “This is beautiful, Callie. You’re going to pack people in here.”
“I hope so,” she says with a laugh. “This sucked up most of my savings.”
“It’ll pay off.”
“You’ll help,” she replies and turns to walk away, but I catch her elbow and turn her back to me.
“Wait. Are you being nice to me?”
“I’ve never been mean to you,” she says, her voice cool and eyes even colder, making them so fucking blue I’d swear they came from the ocean. Her skin is soft in my hand, making me think of long, sweaty nights.
“Let’s be honest. I don’t think you like me much, and I’d love to know why. I’m a likeable guy.”
“I don’t dislike you,” she insists and pulls her arm out of my touch, making me want to just touch her somewhere else. “I’m just not typically drawn to men who drink whiskey. Daddy liked it too much. I don’t like it at all.”
I knew when I ordered the whiskey, the last time I saw her more than three months ago, that it struck a nerve.
“I don’t always drink whiskey. Frankly, I’m happy with tap water.”
She cocks a brow and then chuckles. “You’ll be good for business, Declan. And I’m thankful for it.”
“I will be,” I agree, not at all afraid to admit that I’m popular around here. It pays my bills nicely, and does the same for the business owners I play for. “I’ve missed playing here.”
“You have?” she asks, seemingly surprised.
“I have.”
“Well, good.” She clears her throat and leads me back to the stairs. “Maybe I can talk you into giving me Fridays and Saturdays.”
You could probably talk me into just about anything, darlin’.
And that just won’t do. Women are a great distraction, but that’s all they are.
“I’m booked on Saturdays,” I reply.
“We’ll see,” she says with a smile as her heels click down the stairs back to the main bar where Adam has finished with his call and is stocking bottled beer in the cooler.
“What do you think?” he asks.
“I think you’d better stock more beer. This place is going to be hopping in about two hours.”
***
God, I love to perform. I love every part of it: singing, playing all of the instruments, watching the crowd as they dance or sing along. Music is as necessary to me as breathing and it’s always come naturally to me. They call me a prodigy, but I don’t know about that. All I know is, it’s a part of me that I’ll never let go of.
I’m toward the end of my last set, and I was right. The place is packed, wall-to-wall, standing room only. Adam and another bartender I haven’t seen before are working the bar, and two waitresses are working the room.
Callie has been mingling, helping wherever she’s needed, and working her ass off in general.
How she can do all of that in the shoes she wears is a mystery to me, and my sister Charly owns a shoe store. I’ve come to realize that I’ll never solve that particular mystery.
As long as women continue to wear them, I’m good.
Speaking of Charly, my eyes meet hers in the crowd. It didn’t surprise me that she showed up with our brother, Eli, and his girlfriend, Kate. It did surprise me, however, to see that she brought a date along.
I wonder who the fuck this one is.
Not that he’ll be around for long. Charly doesn’t keep men in her life. Odd, how our parents were married for the better part of five decades, faithfully and in love for every day of those years, yet most of their six children are commitment-phobes.
“Are y’all havin’ a good night?” I ask the crowd as I tickle the keys on the piano and smile when the room erupts into applause and cheers. “I am too. Let’s give the owner, Callie, and the staff of The Odyssey a big round of applause for making this place so beautiful.”
My eyes link with Callie’s as the crowd cheers loudly. She smiles and waves, then simply lifts a perfect eyebrow in my direction.
God, I love how sassy she is.
“I’d also like to send out a little hello to some of my family in the audience this evening.” I smile down at Eli, Kate and Charly. If any of my family takes the time to come to a show, I take a minute to thank them. “And this here’s gonna be the last song this evening. It’s one of my favorites. Thanks for listening tonight, friends.”
I move easily into a slower rendition of Adele’s Set Fire to the Rain, loving the lyrics, losing myself in the melody. And when it’s done, I stand and wave, give one bow, then climb off the stage and head straight to my family.
“Hey,” I say and kiss Kate’s cheek, then Charly’s, and give my brother a man-hug. “Thanks for coming.” Then I turn to Charly’s date. “Who are you?”
Charly rolls her eyes. “God, you’re such a man.”
“I’m a brother,” I correct her, still holding the stranger’s gaze with mine. He’s not as tall as me or Eli, but then few are. At roughly six-foot-four, we’re taller than most. He’s dressed smartly, like an accountant or a lawyer, in a dark button-down and khaki pants.
And, because she’s Charly, and this is her type, he has dark blond hair and light eyes. “I’m Declan.”
“This is Harrison,” Charly says.
“Can I call you Harry?” I ask with a smile, but Harrison doesn’t smile. He simply says, “No.”
I glance over at Eli, whose eyes are narrowed, and he gives a small shake of his head.
Harrison won’t be around long.
“Okay then. I hope you enjoyed the show.”
“Not my usual type of music, but you’re very talented,” the rude and stuffy Harrison replies.
My eyes meet Eli’s again, and a whole conversation takes place in the matter of two seconds.
Can I deck him?
Not worth it, man.
“We need to go soon,” Kate says with a smile. Her green eyes look happy as she tosses her red hair over her shoulder and gazes up at Eli. “We fly out early tomorrow morning.”
“Where are you headed?” I ask.
“Aruba,” Eli replies with a satisfied smile. “Kate and I have earned a vacation.”
“I’m going to sit on the beach and read a book.”
“Under an umbrella,” Eli adds and drags his hand down her hair. “And after I’ve had my way with you.”
“Ew,” Charly says, scrunching up her nose. Harrison simply clears his throat and shuffles his feet.
He’s wearing Chucks. With khakis.
We won’t have to run him off. Charly won’t be okay with that.
“I’d like to make it an early night, too,” Charly adds. “I’m working tomorrow.”
I lean down and hug my sister tight, then whisper in her ear, “I don’t like him.”
“Me either,” she whispers back, and smiles up at me as I pull away.
Good.
Goodnights are said, and I make my way over to the bar. The crowd has thinned significantly, and now just a few people are left, from the sounds of it most of them are on the roof enjoying the cool fall evening and the view.
Callie’s manning the bar alone. She’s still in her killer pink heels, but she changed out of the cutoffs and tank into a killer little black dress that hugs her in all the right places.
She has great tits and ass, but she’s more slender than I usually like. There is nothing soft about her, which suits Callie because she’s not a soft woman. I don’t know her well, yet, but I know that she’s strong, in charge, and she’ll kick ass when needed.
God, she’s adorable.
I get comfortable on a stool and grin when she makes her way down to me.
“Whiskey?” she asks with cool eyes, and no hint of a smile. I ordered a whiskey not long after she took over, before renovations started, and I could tell then that it irritated her.
“How about a shot of tequila tonight? If you’ll do one with me.”
Without missing a beat, she reaches for two shot glasses and pours the clear liquid—the good stuff—and hands me one, then clinks her glass to mine. “To one hell of a night.”
“I’ll drink to that.”
We shoot our drinks, and then she holds the bottle up. “Another?”
“Sure.”
She pours me more, but not herself. “You’re not joining me?”
“I’m driving,” she replies with a smile.
“Where do you live?” I ask.
“Not close enough to walk,” she replies and washes out her glass, then puts it away.
“You have beautiful eyes.” I lean my chin on my hand and watch her bustle about. I’m the only one at the bar now, and I admit I like having all of her attention.
She bats her eyes. “Thanks.”
“The rest of you isn’t so bad, either.”
“Back at you,” she says and laughs. “You’re ridiculously attractive.”
This gets my attention. Not that she didn’t already have my attention.
“You think I’m hot?”
“I said attractive,” she replies and rolls her eyes.
“Okay, what do you find attractive about me?” I take the shot she poured me and set the glass down, shaking my head when she offers me more.
“I seriously doubt you need me to feed your ego,” she says and chuckles.
It’s been entirely too long since anyone fed my ego because every time I consider taking someone home, a certain blond bar owner pops in my head.
It’s ridiculous.
“Humor me.”
She sighs and leans on the bar, then rakes her killer eyes up and down me. “You have nice hands. I like that you’re tall. And your teeth are straight.”
I stare at her for a long minute, then bust up laughing. “You like my hands, my height and my teeth.” I shake my head and then laugh some more. “My ego is safe, sweetheart.”
She’s smiling now, and that just about knocks me off my stool. Jesus, she should smile all of the time.
“You have a killer smile.” I scratch my nose and lean my chin on my hand again, watching her. “I want to bury my hands in your hair and feel how soft it is. And your legs have to be the sexiest I’ve ever seen.”
“You’re charming,” she says cautiously, but her cheeks are pink and her smile is back.
“I’m honest.”
“Can’t fault a man for being honest, given how rare it is these days.”
“I’m taking you to dinner, Callie.”
Her smile doesn’t slip as she cocks a brow again. She takes a long minute to reply, holding my gaze, and finally, as if she mentally thought why the hell not, she says, “You can pick me up at six on Monday.”
“I’m gonna need to know where you live to do that.”
“I’m staying with Adam for a while.”
I tilt my head and consider her. Adam is more of a player than I am.
“He’s my best friend.” She doesn’t look away or blink, doesn’t explain herself further, almost daring me to accuse her of sleeping with him, and I simply nod.
“I’ll pick you up at six on Monday.”
“Don’t be late.” And with that she saunters down to the other end of the bar to pour a beer for a customer.
I won’t be late.
***
What am I doing? I’m being an idiot, that’s what I’m doing. I’m waiting outside The Odyssey for Callie to finish closing up so I can escort her to her car.
What is this, 1945?
I sigh and lean against the building. No, it’s the French Quarter, and it’s dangerous at night, and I’ll be damned if Callie walks to her car alone this late.
A few moments later, the woman herself steps outside and sets the alarm, then locks the door and jumps about three feet into the air when she turns and finds me standing here.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.”
“I almost maced you,” she says and covers her chest with her hand, panting.
God, I want to make her pant like that for entirely different reasons. Just the thought of it has my cock on high alert.
“Sorry,” I say again and try to think of dead puppies and spaghetti to calm my dick down.
“Why are you here?”
“To walk you to your car,” I reply and fall into step beside her.
“That’s very chivalrous of you, but I’m fine walking a block by myself.”
“Yes, you carry mace.” I smirk, and then laugh when she bites her lip guiltily. “Let me guess. You don’t really have any mace.”
“I could stab someone with my heel,” she suggests and I can’t stand it. I have to touch her, so I take her hand in mine and kiss her knuckles.
“You’re adorable.”
“No. I’m not.”
She is.
“Okay.”
“My car is right there,” she says and speeds up, trying to pull her hand away, but I don’t let her go. Not yet.
“I like it.” She drives a ’68 Camaro. Jesus, I might have to marry her.
“So do I.”
She unlocks the driver's door, but before she can open it, I turn her and lean in, her back against the door, my body inches from hers. I feel the heat coming off of her, I can smell the fruity shampoo she uses, and it’s a big boost to my ego when she takes a long, deep breath, then braces her hands on my hips.
She’s not pushing me away, so I take that as a good sign.
“You’re a beautiful woman, Calliope.”
“How did you know my name?” she whispers, those ice blue eyes pinned to my mouth.
“Adam,” I reply.
“He’ll pay for that. I hate that name.”
“I like it.” I lean in closer and drag my nose down her cheek, breathing her in. God, she’s more potent than the tequila. “It’s pretty and unusual, just like you.”
“Is that a compliment?”
I grin. “Yes, ma’am.”
Her hands travel up my sides, over my shirt, and fist over my ribs, gathering the cotton tightly as my left hand glides down her side to her ass.
“I like your height too, you know,” I murmur. “When you’re in heels like this, I don’t have to practically bend in half to reach you.”
“Happy to oblige,” she whispers. She’s still gripping onto me, but she’s not leaning in to me, as if she’s waiting to see where I take this.
And if we weren’t in the middle of the street, I’d fuck her brainless. Right here.
But instead, I let my lips drag up her neck and then hover over mouth, barely touching her. “If you’re going to push me away, do it now.”
She doesn’t push me away. Instead, she pulls me in, and our mouths take over, nibbling, exploring, enjoying.
I could kiss her all damn night.
And I will.
But not tonight.
Before I boost her up and bury myself inside her for all of God and the whole French Quarter to see, I pull back just a bit and turn the kiss from hot to sweet. She purrs.
She mother-fucking purrs.
And then, she lets go of my shirt, drags her hands down my sides, and with a cocky smile on those full red lips, she grabs my ass, her nails digging in just enough to bite, and tugs on my lower lip with her teeth.
Without moving away, I leave my lips on hers and say, “Monday.”
Then I pull back and stand on the sidewalk as I watch her lower herself into her car, cool as a damn cucumber, and drive away.
Jesus, she’s going to be fun in bed.
