Mardi Gras … the season for cocktails and conquests. In honor of that hedonistic holiday, here’s an excerpt from New Orleans Lover: A Creole Christmas Tale.
Driver gently lifted her sweater over her head and tossed it to the floor, his eyes flickering with desire at the sight of her bra, which he deftly unsnapped.
“Oh, shit,” Mary Jane couldn’t help but mumble as his head lowered. When his mouth closed over her nipple, her knees buckled. He caught her and lowered her gently to the floor. He whispered into her ear as he hovered above her. “Don’t worry, Mary Jane, everything is going to be just fine.” Then he laughed, before flicking his tongue across the stiffened peak of her breast.
She bit her lip, determined not to groan. But that tongue of his made it difficult. Lazily at first, he licked a circle around the nipple, making it swell. No, no, no. She willed herself to disassociate, as she so often had before. A memory from her marriage drifted into mind—Ben kissing her breasts as she lay back and composed a grocery list in her mind.
“Damn it, Mary Jane,” Ben had finally complained as he sat back, sweaty and agitated. “I can tell you’re not into this. Couldn’t you at least try for once?” Then he’d stalked out of the room, leaving her naked on the sheets, her stomach clenched against the onslaught of anything that could be mistaken for pleasure.
“Mary Jane?” Driver murmured as his teeth grazed her nipple, and the tiny jolt of pain jerked her back to the present. “Naughty, naughty,” he scolded, his finger reaching up to pinch the nipple lightly, shooting an illicit thrill straight to her sex, which to her horror, was beginning to get wet.
“You aren’t supposed to be thinking about the past just yet,” he whispered. “I’m not one of the spirits, honey, I’m just the warm-up, and you’re gonna have to work harder than this.”
“Work? I thought this was supposed to be fun.” Mary Jane could barely get the words out, so focused was she on sending a desperate plea from her brain to her body. Don’t get turned on by this.
“Oh, it’s gonna be fun, all right. But I’ve got to warn you,” he plucked at her nipple again, staring at it as if deciding exactly where to bite. “These spirits are going to have their way with you, whether you let yourself enjoy it or not. So you’d be better off letting go right now. Let me give you a taste of what you’re in for, while you still have it easy.”
“This isn’t easy,” she replied, grabbing the edge of the floor rug to keep from grinding her hips, which seemed to have developed a mind of their own. Thanks a lot, sex drive.
“No?” Driver continued his torment of her nipple, rolling it between his teeth until the flesh was raw. “Trust me, this is the easy part. I won’t ask you questions, make you beg, or lure you into doing all of those wicked things you think you’d never do.”
Make me beg? Mary Jane didn’t like the sound of that at all. Except why did Driver’s words make her skin prickle? Her groin ached and she stared up into his impossibly green eyes, the color of a sun-dappled creek.
“I hope that didn’t scare you, Mary Jane,” Driver whispered into her ear. “You won’t be forced to do anything you don’t want to do, understand that. It’s just that these spirits are awfully persuasive.”
“Oh, yeah?” Mary Jane’s breasts had been licked and teased to the point where, despite her best intentions, she couldn’t take much more. Though she’d never have admitted it, what she really wanted at this moment was for him to use those clever fingers and lips somewhere a bit further south.
“Yeah,” he stared into her face. “They have ways of convincing you, making you turn yourself inside out just for the thrill of it. So,” his eyes dropped to her mouth, her breasts, “if I were you, I’d just go ahead and let me fuck you silly. Because it’s the least of what will happen to you today.”