Cajun Magic 02 - Voodoo for Two (15 page)

She was already clamping down hard on her tongue trying to hold back her desire to moan aloud. Or was it to hold back her desire? She’d lost track.

When he pressed the sopping cotton ball to her knee, she jerked forward, pain jolting her temporarily back to her senses.

He blew gently on her knee to ease the fire, only to create a far more destructive burn in her lower abdomen. He pressed a kiss to her knee and another to her inner thigh.

Without conscious thought, she spread her legs ever so slightly, allowing him greater access—to that wet, delicious place.

Ben glanced up at her, as if gauging her resistance.

She should call a halt right here. He was giving her the opportunity. But she couldn’t begin to stop the inevitable, and frankly, she didn’t want to. Her knees dropped apart, her dress riding higher until the thin line of her black string bikini panties peeked from beneath.

Light flared in Ben’s eyes. He leaned forward and, with feathery flicks, glided his tongue in a lazy trail up her thigh, alternating between tonguing and nipping until he was wedged between her legs, his broad shoulders pressing them wider. With a pause, he glanced up at her, his brown eyes reflecting the light from her nightstand, intensifying the gleam in them.

She laced her hands through his curling black hair, urging him closer. “Oh God, Ben, don’t stop now.”

“As you wish, baby. You’re calling the shots.” As he spoke, his breath blew against her inner thigh, already highly sensitive to his touch. He backed away enough to close her legs, hook his fingers into the lacy black elastic of her panties, and slide them down her legs. With a flirty flick, he slung the scrap of lace to the far corner.

As cool air hit the moist area between her legs, she tried to spread her legs again.

“Not yet.” He held her legs together, then rose from his kneeling position, pulling her off the bed to stand in front of him. “I want to see you.”

A warm shiver rippled across her skin and she reached behind her back, lowering the zipper of her strapless red dress until it slid off her breasts and down over her hips to pool at her ankles.

Naked, exposed to the man she’d never stopped loving, she felt no shame in her own skin, just a deep longing.

The fire in Ben’s eyes enveloped her, clothing her in the moment.

“Your turn.” Lucie stepped forward until her bared breasts rubbed against his jumpsuit, the uniform of his newly chosen profession. So he wasn’t a cop anymore. His choice of jobs didn’t make him any less of a man. A very desirable one, at that. “I love a man in uniform,” she said, “but I like it even better when he’s out of uniform.” With her fingers firmly wrapped around the pull-tab, she ran the zipper down to the bulging point between his legs.

Ben gasped, his head falling back, his body tensing. “You’re killing me.”

“Oh, baby, I’ve only just begun.” Her hands dipped inside the open edges of the jumpsuit, settling on the taut muscles of his midsection. Waves of excitement pulsed through her body, diving southward. Liquid oozed from her, making her moist, ready for him to enter her. But she still had work to do.

With her fingers weaving their way through the wiry curls on his chest, she ran her hands up to his shoulders. Then she pushed the fabric over and off, exposing a darkly tanned wall of rippling sinew.

“
Ooo-la-la
. Let me taste you.” Her distended nipples rubbed across his chest as she rose up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips against the vein in his neck—the vein pumping warm blood through his body at an alarming speed. She sucked the salt from his skin, liking the taste and texture, perhaps a little too much. When her mouth came away, the light purple evidence of a love bite remained.

Her lips curved. She’d marked him as hers. Now it was his turn to mark her.

She stepped away, dropped her eyelids to half-mast and crooked her finger. In her most seductive voice, she asked, “Are you just going to stand there? Or are you going to make love to me?”

She turned her back and climbed into the bed, knowing full well her bottom was exposed to his view, her moistened cleft practically begging him to take her.

The rustle of clothing, the thump of a shoe, followed by another, were all the indication she needed that he would follow. She lay full out on her stomach, her legs slightly apart, waiting for him to join her.

Which he did, in less than thirty seconds.

She knew, because she’d counted as she held her breath. That small niggle of doubt had crept back in, only to be swept away when he straddled her, draping his body over hers. “I thought you’d never come,” she whispered.

“I thought I’d never get here,” he breathed into the back of her neck. He kissed her nape and worked his way downward, tickling her spine with the tip of his tongue until he reached the crease of her buttocks.

He slid off the end of the bed, spread her legs, and pressed his cock between them, his hands palming her rounded cheeks, massaging the muscles, moving downward to the line between buttocks and thigh. With a gentle glide, he traced that line inward to her aching center.

She hunched upward, trying to make that connection between her swollen nether lips and his long, work-hardened fingers. She wanted to feel the sexy abrasion of his rough skin inside her. More than that, she wanted him filling her to full, completing her. Her bottom hiked higher, pressing backward.

Ben’s finger found her center, and dipped inside.

All the Voodoo magic in the world couldn’t conjure the explosion within. This was more than magic, more than anything she could have dreamed. Tension built in every muscle and nerve ending, begging for release. “Oh, Ben, you’re killing me!”

“Honey, I’ve only just begun,” he said, echoing her own words. Then his finger slid out and his tongue slid in.

She practically jumped off the bed, the feelings so intense she thought she’d die of pleasure.

She pressed her face into the comforter to muffle her screams. Every flick he inflicted on her clitoris rent another scream until she writhed in the sheets. “Please, oh God, Ben. Come inside me, now.”

The exquisite torture ceased, leaving her teetering on the precipice of orgasm.

He grabbed her hips and pulled her against him, nudging his cock against the opening of her swollen entrance. But he hesitated. “What about protection?”

“Damn.” How could she have forgotten?

She climbed to her hands and knees and reached inside her nightstand, groping for a foil package she was sure was there. Her little bit of hope stashed away for, how long was it—two, maybe three, years? About the time she’d given up on Ben ever coming back. But he was here now and she couldn’t wait.

Her fingers closed around a stiff square. “Oh, thank God!” She twisted and collapsed on her back in the middle of the mattress holding up her prize. “Quick!”

Ben snatched the treasure from her hand and ripped it open.

She stole it back and eased it down over his magnificent cock. “Oh yeah, baby. I remember you.” She lay back, her knees dropping wide.

A wicked glitter in his gaze, he leaned over her and pressed his lips to her opening, darting his tongue inside. His head lifted and he grinned naughtily. “Just testing.”

“Oh, I’m more than ready.” She’d been ready for this moment for a very long time.

One agonizing kiss at a time, he slid up her body until he lay over her, his penis pressed to her core.

“Ben!” she squealed. “Hurry!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” he reassured, smoothing the back of his hand along her chin. Then he drove home, filling her in one hard thrust.

With a gasp, she curled her legs around his waist and clenched, holding him close as she absorbed him, stretching to accommodate his size and length.

Then he pulled away until the velvety smooth tip was a breath away from falling free of her.

She flexed her legs, drawing him back in. “Please, don’t tease me.” Were those tears in her voice? Was she that desperate for him she’d cry? Did she still care that much? Man, she was going to be in big trouble. “Do it, Ben. Do it, like before.”

“Ah, Lucie. I’ve missed you so damn much.” He pressed a kiss to her lips and rammed home. In and out, he rode her hard.

She met him thrust for thrust, planting her feet on the bed to give her added lift. She climbed that precipice and toppled over the edge, exploding into a million glittering fragments of light.

He jerked to a halt, his body rigid, his cock pulsing. His lips pulled back over his teeth in a groan with the strain of his release. Then he collapsed on top of her, squashing the air from her lungs.

She didn’t care. Ben was with her—inside her—as she’d dreamed of for so long. Everything would be all right. Tomorrow she’d wake up and all would be right with the world.

He shifted to his side and lay down next to her, pulling her into the circle of his arms. “Ah, Lucie. You feel like heaven.” He smoothed a hand over her naked skin.

She basked in the afterglow of being loved by him. Surely, after what they’d just shared, he loved her. She snuggled closer, pressing a kiss to his bare chest.

“See?” Ben whispered into her ear, teasing her lobe with his tongue. “You can’t possibly marry Eric. Besides, you’d never be happy as a congressman’s wife. You belong here, in the swamp.”

Chapter Fifteen

“Lucie! Ohmigod!” Bursting through the doors of the Shear Safari Beauty Salon, Calliope, with DeeDee Dubois in tow, made a beeline for Lucie’s chair. “We’re so glad you’re here.”

Josie Ezelle, the young beautician wearing the salon’s skintight leopard-print uniform skirt, dropped the strand of Lucie’s hair she’d been cutting and stepped back. “Hi, ladies.”

Lucie cringed and forced a casual smile to her lips. “Hey. I didn’t realize you two had appointments today.” Otherwise she would have rescheduled. She didn’t feel up to the inquisition, no matter how well-intentioned.

She sure as hell didn’t want to discuss the lapse of sanity that caused her to sleep with Ben. After last night’s faux pas she had a lot to think about, and couldn’t possibly complete an entire thought with Calliope’s incessant chatter blasting through her brain cells.

Whatever. Her life was already so screwed up, what more could go wrong?

“I’m giving up my appointment for DeeDee, if that’s okay with you, Josie?” Calliope hugged the cosmetologist.

“Fine by me.” Josie held her scissors far from her body to keep from poking the effervescent redhead. “What’s it gonna be? Cut, highlights, facial?” Josie turned back to Lucie and snipped another lock of dark hair.

“The works!” Calliope threw her hands in the air, smiling ear to ear. “DeeDee has a date.”

“That’s wonderful news.” Josie’s hand paused and then continued combing through Lucie’s hair. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

Lucie cringed for the second time in one morning. She knew the answer.

DeeDee blushed, the fiery red burning a mottled trail up her neck into her cheeks. She giggled and whispered. “Maurice Saulnier.”

Josie leaned closer. “Who?”

“Mo,” Lucie interjected, her tone flat, her happiness for DeeDee decidedly absent.

DeeDee’s little brown eyes rounded. “Do you think it’s crazy? I know Mo is much too handsome for a girl like me, but he did ask me out, and”—she nibbled her lip—“I want so much to go.”

Immediately, guilt set in and Lucie softened her response. “Oh, DeeDee, of course I’m happy for you. Maurice is a really nice guy and so are you. Girl, I mean. You’re a nice girl.”

DeeDee’s smile returned, lighting up an otherwise doggish countenance. The poor girl’s face was too long, her eyes closely set and beady, and her nose big enough to be considered manly. DeeDee had been born with the title of “Dog-Faced DeeDee” through no fault of her own. But she did have pretty hair, the deep brown of a chocolate lab. And her glow of happiness softened all her harsh features to almost pretty.

Lucie’s own natural optimism became more and more elusive, to the point she felt downright depressed. Because of one simple spell, she’d caused this transformation in DeeDee. That was the upside. The downside was that the unfortunate woman would be absolutely heartbroken if she reversed the magic.

Calliope herded DeeDee into the chair beside Lucie. “DeeDee wants a mani, pedi, facial, cut, and style for her date. Don’t you, DeeDee?”

DeeDee nodded.

“Mirna Mae?” Josie called out.

A chair scraped in a back room and a diminutive older woman wearing a leopard-print skirt and bony-rib-hugging tank top matching Josie’s appeared in a doorway. “Whatcha need?”

“Could you do a manicure while I finish up Lucie?” Josie asked.

“Guess I could. Got nothin’ better to do than eat Mozelle’s beignets and drink coffee. Come on, girl, let’s skin this alligator.”

DeeDee frowned at Calliope and hesitated. “You aren’t gonna skin my hands are you?”

“I will”—Mirna Mae raised an eyebrow— “if you don’t get yer buns in my chair afore I count to three.”

Lucie smiled at DeeDee. “Mirna’s bark is much worse than her bite. And she does a fabulous job on fingernails. Go on. We want you perfect for your date.”

Her frown disappearing, DeeDee scooted into the little chair across the table from Mirna Mae.

“Well, well, DeeDee,” Mirna Mae arranged bottles of polish and nail files. “Since when are you and Maurice an item?”

Lucie stared in the mirror, trying not to be too obvious about her interest in the woman’s answer.

The same mottled flush stained DeeDee’s cheeks. “Oh, we’re not an item.” She ducked her head and murmured, “Yet.”

“Yet, huh? So when did the boy ask you out?”

DeeDee sighed, all but melting in her chair, a smile lifting the corners of her lips. “At the barbecue. I tell you, it was like magic.”

Lucie’s gaze darted to Calliope and she frowned a warning.

But Calliope wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed. “Yeah, Lucie’s bug—”

Lucie kicked out hard, the pointed toe of her high-heeled shoe connecting with Calliope’s shin.

“Ouch!” Calliope reached down to rub her injured leg, while shooting an accusing frown at Lucie. “What did you do that for?”

“I’m sorry,” she smiled at Calliope and shook her head. “My foot must have slipped.” She made a slashing motion across her neck and pressed a finger to her lips. “Ixnay on the ugbay.”

“Ixnay?” Still rubbing her shin, Calliope’s brows drew together, then her eyes widened and a grin spread across her face. “Oh, yeah. Gotcha.”

Apparently oblivious to Lucie and Calliope’s charades, DeeDee continued, “If it hadn’t been for Calliope knocking me down, none of this would have happened.”

Calliope beamed proudly. “That’s me all over for ya. Chalk it up to these clumsy feet.” She winked at Lucie.

Lucie groaned and struggled not to roll her eyes.
Lord, save me from my friends
. Keeping secrets was not one of Calliope’s strengths.

Josie leaned close to Lucie’s ear. “I get the feeling there’s a lot more to the story. Wanna spill?”

Her gaze met Josie’s in the mirror. Man did she need someone she could talk to, but… “No, there’s nothing more to say. As far as I could see, it was just as Calliope said.”

Josie’s lips tightened briefly, then she asked over her shoulder. “So how did Calliope’s knocking you to the ground bring you and Mo together?”

“It was like a complete fairy tale.” DeeDee sighed again. “He helped me to my feet, and when Calliope got up, she knocked me into Mo’s arms.” She stared dreamily out the window. “It was so romantic and thrilling. Next thing I knew, we were walking out on the boardwalk and he was asking me out. Me!”

As Josie snipped away at her hair, Lucie’s heart sank further and further into her belly. What a mess she’d made. DeeDee would be devastated. The first guy to pay any attention to the woman, and all because of a little Voodoo snafu on her part. Not to mention the mess she’d made of her own situation. She was supposed to marry Eric, but she’d slept with Ben.

“There.” Josie set her scissors on the counter and fluffed Lucie’s hair. “You’re all done. Take a look.”

She peered at her reflection without seeing the glorious black tresses falling in luxurious waves. How the heck was she going to undo the disaster she’d created? “It looks great, Josie. Too bad you can’t fix problems as nicely as you fix hair.”

Fists on her hips, Josie gave her a narrow-eyed look. “Girlfriend, I can’t fix what I can’t see.”

The back door burst open and Alex skidded in, gasping for breath. “Lucie!” She pressed a hand to her chest. “You gotta get out of here, quick!”

Her heart bouncing from the pit of her belly into her throat, she leaped from the chair, cape and all, and ran to her friend. “What’s wrong, Alex?”

Alex laid a hand on her arm and panted as if she had been running. “The press, the demonstrators, all hell’s broken loose.” She stepped aside and motioned to the glass doors and windows at the front of the Shear Safari salon.

Outside, she could see cars pulling up in the few parking spaces lining the busy streets of Morgan City. A news van with a rotating satellite antenna on top of it double-parked, blocking Lucie’s and Calliope’s cars.

“I thought the press was in Bayou Miste clambering around the Littington estate.” Lucie’s stomach knotted. “What are they doing here in Morgan City?”

“That’s what I was trying to tell you.” Alex grabbed her arm and ushered her to the back of the salon. “Someone got wind that Eric Littington is here at the local jewelry store having a family ring fitted for a certain young lady he hopes to marry.”

Lucie planted her feet and stood firm against Alex, stalling. “Wait just a minute. And why do you think this has anything to do with
me
?”

Alex gave her
the look
. “Don’t play dumb with me, Lucie LeBieu. This is just what you wanted, what you planned. Hell, what you cooked up!”

She winced. “Okay, so it is, but that doesn’t necessarily mean I said yes.”

Alex’s eyes widened. “So he
did
ask you?”

That icky feeling crept across her skin. The same feeling she’d had when she’d lied about stealing from Charlie Hughes’s watermelon patch. She’d gotten away with it then because Charlie’d had a soft spot for the Voodoo queen’s granddaughter. Or maybe he’d been afraid of what Lucie’s grandmother might do to him if he pressed charges.

Calliope and Josie crowded around Lucie, blocking her escape through the front door. Was it just her, or was the air getting scarcer in the little shop? She couldn’t lie her way out of this tight spot. These girls weren’t Charlie. Lucie sighed. “Yes, he did ask me to marry him.”

“Ohmigod! Lucie!” Calliope grabbed her hands and jumped up and down. “I’m so happy for you. It worked! It worked!”

“What worked?” DeeDee asked from her position at the manicure table with Mirna Mae. “What’s going on? Tell us, please.”

“Yes, tell all. My ears must be getting old,” Mirna Mae groused
.
“I only heard about every fifth word. Gotta get a dad-blasted hearing aid so I can keep up with my eavesdropping.”

“Nothing worked.” Lucie pushed through the suffocating group of women.

“Eric Littington asked Lucie to marry her.” Calliope clapped her hands together.

“Congratulations, Lucie,” DeeDee said, her face wreathed in smiles. “I’m so happy for you.”

“That’s wonderful, Lucie.” Josie hugged her close.

“Good catch, if you ask me,” Mirna Mae said, without looking up from the fingernail she was filing. “Man’s got money and political aspirations. Probably the most eligible bachelor in the parish.”

The only person who didn’t congratulate her was Alex. Her face was set in a deep frown. “What about Ben?”

The knot in Lucie’s gut clenched until she felt like she’d toss her meager breakfast all over the shiny linoleum floor.

“Ooh, that’s right.” Josie’s eyebrows rose. “Weren’t you and Ben a thing some years back?”

“
Were
. Past tense. Back before he left for the academy,” she said. If only he was still a part of her distant history. But his role in her life was all too fresh. Why did he have to be so sexy, and why did she have to be such a pushover and sleep with the man?

“That’s what I thought.” Josie ducked to glance at her own reflection in the mirror and run a comb through her hair. “Geez, with Craig Thibodeaux and Eric Littington snatched up, that’s two less eligible bachelors for us poor girls of Bayou Miste.”

“There’s still Ben, Larry, and Maurice,” Calliope offered.

DeeDee’s stricken gaze darted toward the group.

“DeeDee here seems to have snagged Mo, not that I’m interested.” Josie smiled over her shoulder at DeeDee. “He and my brother, Larry, have been friends for so long, I can’t think of him as anything but another brother. Good thing you’re marrying Eric, and Ben’s free and back in town, Lucie. I’m thinking about going after him myself.”

Lucie’s heart flipped over and landed with a thud in her gut. Holy swamp muck! Josie was a pretty girl with big blond hair and pale, creamy skin. Completely opposite of her own dark haired, dark-skinned looks. Ben was bound to find her more attractive. The thought made her feel like the nails on her fingers should lengthen into claws. She had a sudden urge to scratch Josie’s eyes out. “I haven’t agreed to marry Eric.”

“No?” Calliope’s brows shot upward.

“No?” Alex’s frown deepened.

“No?” Josie grinned.

“Why not?” Mirna Mae asked.

“Yeah, why not?” DeeDee echoed.

Good question
. She wished she could answer it.

A reporter, followed by a cameraman, stepped through the front door. “Is there a Miss LeBieu in here?”

Josie tossed her comb to the counter and strode toward the reporter. “Sir, do you have an appointment?”

“No, I just want a word with Miss LeBieu.” The reporter pressed a handheld digital recorder to his mouth. “I’m inside the beauty salon where Miss LeBieu has her hair done. Miss LeBieu, is it true congressional candidate Eric Littington proposed to you last night?”

Dread washed through her intestines like a moldy milkshake. How the hell was she going to undo this fiasco? The whole world knew. Or at least all of Louisiana would know Eric had proposed by the time the five o’clock news aired. Would they also know she’d slept with Ben Boyette the same night Eric had proposed? Where was Saint Jude, the patron saint of lost causes, when you needed him? Who else had the power to bail her out of this mess?

“Don’t answer,” Alex said.

“Don’t worry, I’m not about to.” Feeling like a big fat fraud and totally unworthy of her friends, Lucie shifted to make sure Alex stood directly between her and the cameraman.

“Miss LeBieu, is it also true you make your living as a waitress and a stripper?”

Rage burst through her veins and she tried to shove Alex aside so she could get to the reporter and punch him in the teeth. “No, that is not true!”

“Leave it, Lucie.” Alex, with Calliope’s help, restrained her and kept her from making a bigger scene.

“Sir, if you don’t have an appointment,” Josie stepped in front of the cameraman and held her hand over his lens, “you’ll have to leave.”

“In that case,” the bigmouthed reporter said, “I’d like to make an appointment for right now.”

The unflappable Josie, stood her ground. “The only opening I have is for bikini waxing. If you’ll just step into the back room and drop your drawers, we can get to work.”

The reporter’s eyes widened. “Uh…I don’t think so.”