Page 11 of Tease Me


  “Not yet.”

  Damn.

  “So any luck with your writer’s block?” Madison asked, hoping to distract herself from the very definition of distraction seated across from her.

  “It will come,” he said, picking at the corner off her spare beignet and popping a piece into his mouth. She couldn’t help but wonder if he was intentionally avoiding her eyes. “Today I just want to focus on you.”

  “I’m okay with that.”

  After brunch he took her hand and they headed across the street. Artists and fortune-tellers were set up along the sidewalk outside Jackson Park, which Adam said was named after Andrew Jackson. The park featured a statue of Jackson, the hero of the Battle of New Orleans, at its center.

  They stopped short when a tall and lanky man, who reminded Madison of a clean-shaven Abraham Lincoln, stepped into their path. He touched Madison’s shoulder and examined her face.

  “What the hell?” Adam said, shoving the guy’s hand away from her.

  “I have to draw you,” the guy said.

  “You don’t have to draw shit,” Adam grumbled.

  While Madison was fascinated by the motley bunch of street vendors, Adam seemed annoyed by them. But then this wasn’t his first time in New Orleans, so every nuance wasn’t necessarily a grand adventure for him. Madison examined the artist’s caricatures and giggled at his interpretation of Morgan Freeman’s freckles and Nicole Kidman’s forehead.

  “I want him to draw me,” Madison said and promptly sat on the stool next to the artist’s easel.

  “He’s a caricaturist,” Adam said, as if the vocation was synonymous with roadkill.

  “I know.”

  The artist took a seat and began to sketch.

  “If you want someone to draw you, I’ll do it,” Adam said.

  And she’d love to see what he came up with. “Get to work then,” she said. “We’ll see who does a better job.”

  Adam turned to the street artist. “How much for a blank sheet of paper and a charcoal pencil?”

  “Uh . . . twenty bucks?”

  Adam’s glare indicated he knew he was being robbed, but he paid the man, collected his supplies, including a clipboard, and sat on the sidewalk near a wall. He didn’t even look at Madison as he worked, but she couldn’t take her eyes off him. Nor was she interested in Mr. Lincoln’s small talk. The caricaturist refused to give Madison a peek at his finished work while they waited for Adam to complete his drawing. Madison fanned herself with her hands. Even in the shade, she was growing uncomfortably warm. Adam must be dying in his jeans if she was this hot in a skirt. She was admiring Adam in those jeans when he looked up at her unexpectedly. He added a small touch to his drawing and held it at arm’s length to examine it. After a few more scratches with his pencil, he climbed to his feet.

  “I couldn’t remember which side your beauty mark was on.” Adam kissed the small mole under her left eye. “I can’t believe I forgot.”

  He’d just drawn her from memory and felt bad about forgetting such a small detail? She wasn’t sure if she wanted to see what he’d drawn. She decided no matter how bad it was, she’d fawn over it.

  “You first,” Adam said to Mr. Lincoln.

  The artist turned his easel around. The man’s talent was obvious, though the large gap between Madison’s front teeth, her overly long neck, the alien-sized eyes and the bushy mess of hair more expansive than the state of Texas made her a bit self-conscious.

  “Doesn’t even look like her,” Adam said.

  “It isn’t supposed to,” Madison reminded him. “Well, not exactly.”

  “Let’s see yours,” Mr. Lincoln said.

  Adam turned the clipboard around, and Madison’s mouth dropped open in shock. Shock from the unquestionable skill it had taken to create such a perfect likeness of her. Further shock from the fact that she was entirely naked. Her face went hot as she took in the sight of her fingers buried in the expertly drawn folds between her legs, her breasts pushed together into cleavage with nipples hard and straining. Her facial expression could only be described as her O-face.

  “Adam!” she managed to squeak before grabbing the clipboard and hiding the drawing from passersby by holding it against her chest.

  “You win,” Mr. Lincoln said. “How much do you want for it?”

  Madison’s face went even hotter.

  “It’s not for sale,” Adam said.

  Madison wandered away from the passing pedestrians and took another peek at Adam’s work. He was so talented, tears filled her eyes. Sure, she looked like a porn star and yes, she had to wonder if this was how he saw her every time he looked at her—if so, no wonder he was always horny—but every detail of her body had been captured to perfection. From memory. Not only was she astonished that he knew her body that well, but she was hopelessly flattered.

  “Are you ashamed of me for drawing it?” Adam asked, his voice uncharacteristically gruff. He peered over her shoulder at the page.

  “Ashamed?” she said. “Of course I’m not ashamed of you. It’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen in my life. I just don’t want strangers to see me like that.”

  “So it would bother you if other people saw you naked and coming, even though it’s the most beautiful sight in the world?”

  “Of course it would bother me.”

  “Well, hell. We should probably head back to the hotel for some more teasing then,” he said and took her hand.

  “What?”

  “Or maybe it’s best to do it here.” He meandered down the street, holding her hand to keep her in step with him.

  “Do what here?”

  “Oh, nothing,” he said. “Do you want me to carry that for you?”

  He extended a hand toward the clipboard she held. Her eyes widened when she realized anyone could have gotten an eyeful while she was trying to figure out why more teasing was in order. Pausing under a moss-draped tree, she released the page from the clipboard and flipped it over so that the blank backside was facing outward. That was better. Now she could prevent it from being wrinkled and from being seen.

  “Fortunes told, palms read,” a deeply tanned and wrinkled woman called from a nearby table that was covered with a gold-fringed purple satin tablecloth, a crystal ball sitting in its center.

  “Is that something you’re interested in?” Adam asked, nodding toward the fortune-teller.

  Madison didn’t believe in fortune-telling and the occult, but it might be fun to play along. “I’ll get my fortune told if you get your palm read.”

  “No thanks,” he said.

  She grabbed him by the T-shirt and tugged him toward the table. “He’d like his palm read,” Madison said.

  Adam shook his head in annoyance but extended his hand toward the mystic.

  “Very interesting,” the woman said, pouring over Adam’s palm. “You have multiple talents, I see.”

  Which was probably given away by the calluses on his fingertips earned from playing guitar and the smudges of charcoal on the side of his hand, Madison decided.

  “The road behind you was much rockier than the one ahead.”

  “I should hope so. Anything else?”

  “Your love line is unwavering.”

  “Which means?”

  “You will love one special person above all others for all your years.”

  He rubbed his unoccupied hand over his hip pocket and then glanced up at Madison. “Fine with me.”

  He gladly paid the woman’s fee and tugged Madison toward the table. She didn’t understand why her tummy was fluttering with nerves when she sat across from the woman and her crystal ball.

  After some seemingly unnecessary stroking of the clear orb on her table, the woman said, “You’ve been betrayed by someone close to you.”

  Madison lifted an eyebrow at her. No one close to her had betrayed her.

  “Watch for a snake in the grass.”

  “Like an actual snake or a figurative snake?” Adam asked, seeming to th
ink this hack was legit.

  “Both,” the woman said, gazing into her ball.

  “Both?” Madison laughed.

  The woman lifted her eyes from her window to the future and pinned her with a hard stare. “Warnings are no laughing matter, love,” she said.

  “That doesn’t sound good,” Adam said, rubbing his jaw reflectively.

  Oh, please.

  “Be wary of a stranger.”

  Excellent advice. Her mother had drilled it into her head before kindergarten. Next!

  “Anything else?” Madison asked.

  “Think about what you really want before you answer him.”

  “Who?”

  She nodded at Adam. “Him.”

  “Okay . . . Do you have any concrete future plans in that crystal ball? Like what I should do about losing my job?”

  “I already said someone close to you betrayed you.”

  Yeah, that was hella helpful.

  “Okay,” Madison said. “And what should I do about that?”

  “Avoid snakes.”

  Since the woman was on repeat, Madison’s session of enlightenment was apparently over.

  “Um . . . Thanks?”

  Madison stood, more than a little bewildered, and waited for Adam to pay the old woman.

  “That was unsettling,” Adam said as they strolled away.

  “Why? She didn’t tell me anything.”

  “She knew someone close to you betrayed you and that resulted in your job loss.”

  Madison shook her head. “She knew no such thing. I asked her about my job—which she never mentioned—and then she just reiterated exactly what she said the first time. And then she told me to beware of snakes. What in hell could that possibly have to do with being a counselor?”

  “Maybe you’ll be working at a reptile house in your next job,” Adam said, looking pensive. “Do you live near the zoo?”

  “No,” she said, ready to smack him. “Can we go look at the cathedral now?” The tall white spires were calling to her.

  “Whatever makes you happy,” he said. He cuddled her up against his side as they walked toward the square.

  When they rounded a corner, she thought she saw a figure watching them slink behind a bush. Or maybe she was imagining things. It had probably just been some tourist minding his own business. No matter. As long as Adam was beside her, she had nothing to fear.

  “You make me happy,” she told him.

  “Likewise. As much as I’m looking forward to tonight, I’m having a great time with you today.”

  “Likewise,” she said. “On both counts.”

  She enjoyed ambling through the perfectly tended garden, admiring the statue of Jackson, and studying the architecture of the Saint Louis Cathedral. As they wandered the French Quarter, the brick buildings with their ornate iron railings and flower boxes charmed her. And the food at the jazz club where they ate lunch was some of the best she’d ever tasted, with a flavorful kick that pleased rather than overwhelmed. But it was the company that was truly grand. Each stolen kiss, each longing glance, each heated touch served to remind her that she was the luckiest woman in the world.

  “Are you ready to go back to the hotel?” Adam asked after their romantic stroll along the waterfront. “Have you seen everything you wanted to see?”

  “I would like to see a real-life bayou,” she said with a teasing grin. She’d much rather go back to the hotel for a bit of alone time before they ventured to the club. And she definitely needed to shower after sweating her ass of in the humidity all day.

  “This entire place is a bayou.”

  “I guess. But I was thinking more along the lines of a natural bayou. Without buildings and people.”

  “Are there snakes in a bayou?” he asked.

  She chuckled. “Probably. You aren’t still thinking about what that hack of a fortune-teller said, are you?”

  “No. I’ll take you to a real bayou tomorrow,” he promised. “But right now I need to see you naked.”

  She laughed. “I think you have my naked form memorized,” she said, lifting the clipboard with his drawing. She’d been carrying it around for hours.

  “Don’t get me wrong, you look great,” he said. “But you feel even better.”

  “Taxi!” she yelled hoarsely, sticking her arm in the air to gain a driver’s attention.

  Adam had the audacity to laugh at her desperation.

  If he thought her horniness was hilarious now, just wait until he got her alone. He’d die laughing.

  As she stepped into the cab, she thought she spotted Chris observing them across the street, but when she paused for a closer look, there wasn’t anyone there.

  Seeing things. Perhaps she’d gotten a bit too much sun.

  Chapter Eight

  Madison’s belly quivered with nerves as Adam led her down a set of narrow steps to a basement situated beneath an old warehouse. She stared at the worn bricks along the corridor as Adam knocked a rhythm on the small wooden peep door built into the center of a heavy metal door. The impressive black barrier had rivets and everything. She wouldn’t be surprised if it were grenade proof. Were they anxious to keep people out or keep them in? A shiver ran up her back. This place was far shadier than she’d imagined it would be. What was Adam thinking?

  “Adam . . .” she said, her nerve suddenly fleeing back up the stairs in the direction she wanted to go.

  He squeezed her hand, and the peep door opened.

  “Tangerines go well with mangos,” Adam said to the set of eyes observing them from within the club. Assuming the place really was a club. She could hear the sultry beat of music, voices, and even a few moans. A red glow escaped the now open peep door, but so far it wasn’t like any club she’d ever been to.

  “How cold is Siberia in December?” the doorman asked, his voice so low it made the hairs on the back of Madison’s neck stand on end.

  “Too cold for vodka.”

  The man stepped away from the door and Madison heard him say, “The other VIP has arrived,” before he closed the peep door and opened the massive structure barring their way.

  Adam entered first and tugged Madison in behind him with the hand he still held. Before she could see more than a naked woman on the bar, who as far as Madison could tell was pouring someone’s beer with a bottle that was rammed up her vagina, she was ushered into a pitch-black room.

  She’d lost her hold on Adam’s hand at some point, and she couldn’t see a damned thing. Her hands shot out in front of her, and she hit something solid and warm.

  “Easy,” Adam said, somehow finding her arms in the darkness. He stroked them soothingly, but she didn’t let out the breath she was holding until an overhead light switched on.

  Even though the lighting was dim, she blinked her eyes to adjust them after the absolute darkness of a moment before.

  “Did I see that right?” Madison asked. “Was there a woman out there serving beer from a bottle in her thing?”

  Adam chuckled. “Yeah, she’s known for that. And the night’s still young,” he said. “She’ll be serving wine by midnight.”

  “Shut the fuck up!” she said, her jaw about to unhinge itself as it dropped. “You aren’t going to do that to me, are you?”

  “Of course not,” he said. “I don’t like warm beer.”

  He crossed the room and picked up an ornately decorated white