Read Mating Fever Online

Authors: Celeste Anwar

Mating Fever (4 page)

BOOK: Mating Fever
5.61Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

 

Gabriel sidled up to the bar, got a beer, and
turned around, propping his elbows on the bar as he scanned the
crowd for her. He spotted her at a table, nursing a drink and
giving a brush off to a man hitting on her. His ears prickled to
hear her soft rebuttal, barely audible, even to his own keen
ears.

 

Doesn’t like to dance?

 

A challenge, and she didn’t even realize it.
She was damn well in the wrong place not to be a dancer. Music was
a part of life here, dancing in the blood, necessary as air or
water to live. He was going to introduce her to one of the finer
points of Louisiana living.

* * * *

 

Jessica just wanted to watch. She liked
watching people dancing, drinking, talking ... flirting.
Interaction had always fascinated her for some reason, even after
she’d become disillusioned with society. She just liked the
atmosphere, especially down here. Of course, just because she liked
to watch didn’t mean she wanted to do it herself--especially not
with some slush who could barely stand and reeked of stale
beer.

 

A chair scraped behind her. Jessica mentally
rolled her eyes and shuddered. She sensed more than saw someone
come up behind her elbow.

 

Much as the guy deserved a hit to the
gut, she wasn’t going to get physical.
Dammit
! She’d tried to be nice. Repeatedly. There
was just no way to be nice to people any more. Courtesy had
disappeared fifty years ago, along with manners. She hated being
mean--it always made her feel like a dog when she got
through.

 

Jessica swiveled in her chair, her stomach
clenched with the rebuttal she was going to have to deliver.

 

She stopped, stunned to look up and see
Gabriel Benoit standing before her.

 

Her brain only took a few seconds to
jump-start this time. She was getting better at recovering. A few
more times seeing him and she might even act normal. Her eyes
narrowed with suspicion. Before she could demand to know what he
wanted, he surprised her by speaking first.

 

“You followin’ me,
cherie
? Dere’s laws against stalkin’, you know,”
he said with that husky, lilting tone that made her want to melt to
the floor in an orgasmic puddle.

 

She recovered as the words sank in. Jessica
sputtered at his audacity. “Me? Are you serious? You’re the one
following me!”

 

He shrugged. “Don’ matter. Law’s the law.
What you gonna do about it?” He looked down her blouse with a
mischievous gleam in his eyes.

 

Jessica slowly followed his line of
vision, saw her neckline gaped, and put a hand to her chest,
gasping in outrage. She managed to find her voice and said, “What
makes you think I’m following
you
? Who approached who’s table here?”

 

He looked disappointed that she’d covered her
chest, but only briefly. Really, as little as she had up top, she
didn’t know why he acted so interested.

 

“I only came ta save you some
time,
cherie
. You don’ gotta
go through all dis subterfuge to get me.” He held his arms up and
open, like he was there for the taking. “I’m all yours if you want
me.”

 

Jessica grinned despite herself. The man
really had some balls. She gave him a once over. “Thanks, but I
have toys at home.”

 

“I guarantee, no’ like dis toy.”

 

Jessica laughed. “But mine come with an
independent power supply. Can you keep going and going and
going...?”

 

One thick, black brow arched. A dimple
appeared on the side of his mouth. He crossed his arms over his
chest, looking smug in a supreme male sort of way. “I can give you
more’n you can handle,
petite
.”

 

Jessica snorted very unladly-like, secretly
excited--not that she would ever admit it. “I somehow doubt
that.”

 

His voice dropped an octave, and all
amusement left his face. “Don’ make me prove it.”

 

Hot shivers stroked up her spine. The room
suddenly felt too small, too private. She was insanely aware of how
fast her heart beat, how rapid her breath came, and how damn good
he smelled. It was a struggle to remember how to use her voice. All
the moisture had fled her body and pooled in one central location.
“I don’t think so,” she said inanely.

 

He smiled crookedly, baring a dimple. “All
mouth and no action. You don’ know what those lips are for.”

 

She didn’t want to think about her lips. All
she could do was stare at his and wonder about what tricks he could
perform. The kiss he stole in the alley came back full force--all
the heat, the uncertainty, the rough force of his body pressing her
into the wall. She wasn’t acting like herself. She should’ve been
scared or nervous, but the only things her nerves were doing were
coming to life in anticipation.

 

Jessica swallowed with effort. Her face
flushed with heat. She stood up abruptly, not liking his height
advantage over her. She could tell he wasn’t nearly as affected as
she was. She also couldn’t think of a thing to say to him, nothing
challenging or witty. He had to think she was a moron, some dumb
little thing ripe for the taking. The blonde curse was striking,
leaving her open and vulnerable.

 

“You know I’m right, don’ you? Would you like
me to show you what lips can do?” He grabbed her arms suddenly.

 

She looked down at the manacles of his hands
one stunned moment, marveling at the contrast of bronze against her
pale skin. Erotic images flashed in her mind, of cream and golden
bodies entwined, rough and soft. The contrast of his flesh against
hers seared her mind’s eye. She looked back up at his face,
wondering frantically if he could read her mind, wondering a
breathless moment if he was going to kiss her like she wanted to be
kissed.

 

What the hell
.
She didn’t care what anyone in the bar thought. For once, she just
wanted to give in and enjoy herself. This was sin city after all.
She shrugged mentally, closed her eyes, and leaned in.

 

His arms closed around her, and suddenly he
was moving her backward. She stepped back, instinctively keeping
her balance.

 

Coming out of the fog, Jessica opened her
eyes and blinked up at him in confusion. She was still a little
dazed when he took her hands and began guiding her on the dance
floor. She stiffened instantly when she realized his intent.

 

“I don’t dance,” she gritted out and tried to
pull away. She felt like everyone was watching her and her two huge
left feet. They knew she couldn’t dance. They were just waiting for
her to fall on her face.

 

His hands tightened at her waist, his fingers
locked on her hand. “It’s jus’ like makin’ love,” he murmured
seductively. He moved his hips against hers for emphasis, making
her feel weak. “You rock with it and move your hips.”

 

“That’s original. I must be really bad in bed
then.” She felt like a robot, all stiff and cumbersome and
obvious.

 

Gabriel melded her to his body, his heat
melting her resistance until she felt mellow and relaxed in his
arms. If dancing was an indicator of love making, Gabriel had to be
an exquisite lover. Just feeling his body move against hers made
her weak in all the right places. She could barely keep her feet
under her. All she wanted to do was lay her face against his chest
and feel his arms around her.

 

“It jus’ takes d’right partner,” he murmured
huskily against her hair, his breath sparking a chain reaction of
pleasurable responses to erupt along her nerve endings.

 

He swayed and took her around the dance
floor, keeping her distracted from her flighty nervousness with
subtle strokes from his fingers at her waist, on her wrist, his
lips at her temple, his breath at her ear. Every pore of her body
sighed with pleasure. The dance felt too intimate for public, but
wasn’t that part of the appeal?

 

He’d managed to do what no man had ever done
before--got her to enjoy a dance. She could get used to this kind
of treatment.

 

The thought was like an ice bucket dumped on
her head.

 

Jessica stiffened and attempted to pull back
from his relaxed grip. Her efforts failed. He continued moving her
on the dance floor, paying absolutely no attention to the fact that
she was trying to get away.

 

“I need to get back to my hotel,” she said
firmly.

 

“I’ll take you,” he said, looking down and
giving her a smoky look that spoke volumes.

 

She knew exactly what he was thinking. “I’m
not going to sleep with you.”

 

He arched one brow, looking amused.
“Who said anythin’ bout sleepin’,
chere
?”

 

The iciness from moments before melted in a
puddle at her feet. He flustered her with such ease, it was
disturbing. She tried to cover it with a sarcastic tone. “You know
what I mean.”

 

“Maybe I don’. You tryin’ to give me a hint?
I tell you what, I don’ see them so good. Maybe you need to be a
liddle more direct. If you don’ wanna sleep, what do you wanna
do?”

 

She swallowed against a lump in her throat.
Her heart seemed to skip several beats, making her ache in alluring
places. “Not what you’re thinking,” she said, frowning.

 

“How do you know what I’m thinkin?”

 

“I can tell by--by....”

 

He grinned. “I’ll make it easy for
you,
chere
. You can have me if
you want me. How ‘bout that?”

 

Jessica harrumphed under her breath.
“Thanks,” she muttered. “You could just hit me over the head and
make it easier all the way around. Let me go, and I’ll turn around
so you can do it.”

 

He chuckled, one hand roaming around
her back and creeping too close to her ass for her comfort level.
His eyes gleamed with wicked mirth. “And here I thought you
an
ange
. You really
diabolique
,
petite
. You like things a liddle rough,
no?”

 

He was being deliberately obtuse, probably
all in an attempt so he could continue feeling her up. “I’m
suddenly exhausted,” she said wryly, trying to loosen herself from
his hold.

 

He finally relented and released her, looking
disappointed. “Ah, too bad. You sure you won’ let me take you to
the hotel?”

 

Jessica held up her hand, stopping him. “No,
thanks. I’m used to taking care of myself.” She was the only person
she could rely on. It wasn’t safe for a woman to put faith in a man
these days. They didn’t protect, they didn’t take care of--all they
did was use until a woman had nothing else to give, and then they
threw them away for the next sucker. She was better off being
single.

 

Jessica beat a hasty retreat back to her
hotel, leaving Gabriel in the dust before he could use any more of
that lethal charm on her.

 

One thing she knew now: Cajun accent +
dimples + good looks = loss of brain function. She felt like a cat
hooked on catnip, and there was no way this pussy was going to play
and rub all over
that
.

 

 

Chapter Three

 

 

Jessica had just looked down at her watch.
She thought for one stunned moment of confusion, and embarrassment,
that she had walked into a wall. Then two hands gripped her biceps,
steadying her as she drew back and looked up with disbelief.

 

A faint smiled curled Gabriel’s lips.
“But,
cherie
, we hardly know
one another.”

 

“What?” His accent confused her for several
moments, but even when her brain finally interpreted the unfamiliar
pronunciation, she was still all at sea.

 

“Las’ night you didn’ even wanna kiss me, now
you rush into my arms?”

 

Jessica sputtered indignantly and looked up
at his eyes. “I did no such thing!”

 

“So, you forget your reward already?”

 

“What are you talking
about--wait.
My
reward. You’re
really full of yourself. It was
your
reward for rescuing my necklace.”

 

One dark brow arched beguilingly. “So what do
you give me for savin’ you from a fall,” he murmured, leaning too
close.

 

Jessica pulled back so sharply she almost
fell, and it was exactly the opening he was looking for. His bare
arms wrapped around her, the hair sprinkled skin of his forearms
deliciously abrasive against the portions of her back bared by the
strappy sundress. Did the man never wear a shirt? She couldn’t
think straight with all that potent male flesh exposed to her view
and the skin of her palms.

 

Her fingertips tingled as his muscles played
beneath them, moving as he trapped her. He tightened his hold,
pulling her close, closer. Jessica flattened her palms on his
chest, ignoring the fluttering in her stomach touching his bare
flesh and sculpted muscles aroused, and pushed away with an effort.
It did nothing to stop him.

 

“Gabriel, we can’t do this here in the middle
of the hotel.”

 

“Perhaps we could go up to your room?” he
whispered, brushing his lips against the delicate shell of her ear,
his warm breath ruffling her insides with delighted shivers.

BOOK: Mating Fever
5.61Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

A Month at the Shore by Antoinette Stockenberg
Otherwise by Farley Mowat
Spice by Seressia Glass
The Seventh Apprentice by Joseph Delaney
Arcadio by William Goyen
boystown by marshall thornton
The Shadow of the Sun by Ryszard Kapuscinski