The Red-Hot Cajun

  He was going freakin’ nuts.

  “What do you do with naked women?” Val inquired.

  He could have wept then at the sheer naiveté of her question. With a sigh of surrender, he tossed the T-shirt at her. She cocked her head to the side, clearly surprised and a little embarrassed at what she presumed was a final rebuff.

  “Just put the damn T-shirt on, and then, don’t move.”

  “Why?”

  “Because we’re going to cuddle, dammit... sort of.”

  “Sort of?” She sat up and pulled the shirt on over her head, emerging with a grin on her face. “Is that a Cajun thing? Cuddling, Cajun style?”

  “No, chère. Cuddling my style.”

  Start your engine, honey, we’re off to the races . . .

  What was she thinking?

  She wasn’t thinking was the answer, and for once in her life, it felt good.

  Valerie had never acted so brazen, ever. And she wasn’t drunk, or even slightly drunk, either. She was just so tired of doing the right thing. A childhood of conforming to her mother’s view of what good girls did and did not do. An adulthood of following all the rules on her path to success. Image, image, image.

  Well, enough!

  For once Valerie wanted to act impulsively. Throw caution to the wind. Do what felt good. Truth to tell, she’d been attracted to Rene for a long time, despite how she’d tried to convince herself otherwise.

  What she’d hated was that he didn’t reciprocate her feelings.

  But now she was pretty sure he wanted her.

  It had been two long years.

  She was ready... more than ready.

  Her motor was running.

  It was only one night, after all.

  Let the good times roll, as the Cajuns were wont to say.

  But oh my God! What was that dangling from Rene’s fingertips as he returned from the cabin? It was shocking pink and it sure as heck wasn’t a condom.

  He came back inside the net tent and twirled the velvet handcuff around a raised forefinger. Then he flashed her a wicked grin.

  “I thought you went for condoms,” she choked out.

  “No need for condoms. We aren’t going to have sex, exactly.”

  He knelt down beside her and secured a cuff around her wrist.

  “What does that mean, exactly? Is this a Bill Clinton kind of terminology?”

  He laughed. “You could say that. Are you game?”

  “For what?”

  “Near-sex?”

  She laughed then, too. “Is this a game?” She was withholding her other wrist from the handcuff.

  “For sure.”

  “Do you play this game often?”

  “Never played before.”

  “You are such a liar.”

  He made a sign of the cross over his heart. “Never had the inclination or the need before. But you give me ideas, sweetheart.”

  Oooh, I like the sound of that. If he’s thinking what I’m thinking... “What kind of ideas?”

  “Tsk -tsk -tsk . Telling you would spoil the fun.”

  While she’d been talking, Rene had somehow managed to wrap the handcuffs around a porch post and back, clicking them onto her other wrist. She was still lying down, but now her arms were above her head.

  He rearranged the netting so there were no gaps at the floor.

  He must have noticed the sudden fear in her eyes because he kissed her softly on the cheek and said, “Don’t worry. I’ll release you the instant you ask me to.”

  “Why did you tell me to put the shirt back on if you had these perverted games in mind?”

  “Who says they’re perverted?”

  “It seems a little... um, childish.”

  “Hah! You are about to find out how the big boys play.”

  He lay down beside her then, propped up on his left side, on an elbow. Looking at her, he smiled slowly. “Are you as excited as I am?”

  “No one could be as excited as I am,” she admitted.

  “Good.”

  He cupped her chin with his right hand and rasped a thumb over her lips. Back and forth. Several times.

  “How do you feel about deep, wet kisses?” His voice was husky now, which made Valerie feel a bit less embarrassed about her brazen move on him and her ensuing overexcitement. Clearly, he was as turned on as she was.

  “I’m not sure. Maybe I need a sample.”

  He chuckled and pressed his lips to hers. Softly at first—a gentle brushing back and forth as he sought the perfect fit. When he found the right alignment, he deepened the kiss.

  “Open,” he murmured against her mouth.

  She did. And, oh my gracious, just that one-word request made her melt. And the kiss became something altogether different. Because her hands were restrained and could not touch him . . . because he touched her only lightly at the chin... all of her attention was focused on the kiss. For what seemed like forever, he caressed her with his mouth, he nibbled and nipped with his teeth, he licked and laved with his tongue until finally he plunged inside her mouth. By then, she was moaning for just that, and more.

  He moaned, too. She could swear he did. And that made her melt even more.

  When he raised his head after a really long time and gazed down at her, she saw that his lips were as swollen as hers, and his eyes were half-lidded with arousal. He leaned down and pressed his mouth against her ear, whispering, “I love kissing you.” His breath against the sensitive whorls of her ears, as well as his words, were intensely erotic. Then he dipped the tip of his wet tongue into her ear, and she arched her hips off the floor in reaction. There appeared to be an invisible thread connecting her inner ear to her breasts and that center of her female folds. Oh. .. my... goodness! Oh... my... goodness! She wasn’t sure if she moaned those words in her head or aloud.

  “Uh-uh-uh,” Rene cautioned, pressing a hand against her belly, pushing her back down. He was orchestrating this sex game, play by play. No co-conducting.

  “What do you want me to do now?” he asked.

  “Touch me,” she said without hesitation.

  He smiled. “Where?”

  “Everywhere.”

  “Oh, baby! Right answer.” And he proceeded to do just that. Whisking his hand over her T-shirt, he traced a path over her breast, the curve of her waist, her flat stomach, the outside of her leg all the way to the ankle, then back up the other side. Carefully he avoided touching her where she most wanted to be touched.

  “Lift my shirt,” she said.

  “Not yet.”

  “Release my hands, then. I want to touch you.”

  He made a low sound in his throat that was a combination laugh and gurgle. “Not yet.”

  “Why?”

  “I’ll explain later.”

  “There’s an explanation for all this?”

  “Mais, oui!”

  He got up off his elbow, knelt astride her body, then sat back on his haunches. His eyes held hers, gauging her reactions as he began to fondle her breasts through the thin cotton of her shirt. He took her breasts in his large hands, kneading and shaping them, the hard points of her nipples pressing into his palms.

  He pinched and twisted the nipples, lightly, till they grew and ached.

  Hot liquid pooled between her legs, which were held immobile by his weight. She could swear an actual throbbing began there; she became certain of that fact when he leaned forward and took one breast into his mouth, cloth and all, and suckled at her, the whole time playing with the other breast. She was feeling too many sensations all at once. The delicious torment of her breasts. His comfortable weight on her belly. The handcuffs. The white heat that tensed her inner muscles. With each rhythmic pull on her nipples, a throb beat out its own erotic response down below.

  She was whimpering her pleasure by the time he switched breasts and continued teasing her, unmercifully. The only thing that saved her from weeping in utter humiliation was his raw sounds of masculine excitement as he ministered to her... not q
uite growls of triumph, not quite groans of surrender.

  The worst part—or maybe the best, her mind beyond logical deduction at this point—was that she was prevented from showing the extent of her excitement. She couldn’t arch off the floor, and she was prevented from taking control of this love play, which would be her norm. Not that anything about this was normal for her.

  But wait, wait, wait. He was moving lower, over her shirt, pressing his cheeks to and fro over her belly, nuzzling her navel. Then he went even lower, past her groin area— darn it! —to her inner thighs where he began licking her, of all things. His fingertips tickled the back of her knees and then the soles of her feet. She didn’t know whether to giggle or sigh with ecstasy. She settled for the latter.

  Suddenly he sat up on his knees and looked at her. “How do you like cuddling so far, chère?”

  She refused to answer.

  “Speechless, eh? Ah, well, I have the cure for that.” Swifter than she could say, “Whoo-ee,” he inched her shirt up and over her head till it bunched at her bound wrists. She was fully exposed to him now, except for her thong.

  Still kneeling between her legs, he studied her in a way that could only be described as hungry. His fists clenched as he tried to control himself, but Val could see the surrender in his hot eyes and parted lips.

  And she saw physical evidence of his arousal in the tenting of his shorts. Very physical evidence! She had never considered herself a sensual woman before, but she did now.

  “You are so fucking sweet,” he said in a voice husky with desire.

  It was a crude thing to say, but Valerie was oddly flattered.

  He kissed her, passionately. He caressed her now bare breasts to the point where she was mindless with need. “Please, please, please,” she begged him.

  “Shhhhh,” he whispered and wet one nipple, then drew her deeply inside his mouth, where he alternately suckled then licked her with the tip of his tongue.

  Finally, just from his making love to her breasts, she felt her inner muscles begin to spasm. She was going to come, just from foreplay. He would think she was really pathetic, so desperate after two years of celibacy that little attention would bring her to climax. She stiffened her body and fought the scorching waves that were already undulating out of her.

  “Relax, sweetheart. Relax.”

  “Easy for you to say,” she grumbled.

  “Hah! Every time you twitch, I double twitch.”

  She had to smile at that description. “Okay, release me now.”

  “No way.”

  “You’ve proven that you can make me lose control during the previews. Now, let’s move onto the main event.”

  “If you mean what I think you do about the main event, forget about it. We are not going to have carnal knowledge of each other.”

  “It sure as hell feels like carnal knowledge.”

  “Naw. That was just semi-carnal. But as for the main event, I can’t do that, not tonight, but I do have another short feature in store for you.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him, then yelped with surprise when he lay down beside her again, rolled her onto her side, wrapped an arm around her waist, then rolled the two of them back so that he lay under her, both of them facing upward. He made a few adjustments, raising her arms higher, causing her breasts to arch. His erection nestled between her buttocks and her female folds. She could swear she felt the rapid beat of his heart against her back.

  “This is crazy.”

  “You think so?” he said against her ear. Ear sex again? Lordy, Lordy! “Move your legs, sweetheart,”

  he told her and helped her to spread them wide, bent at the knees, with her feet firmly planted on either side of his thighs.

  Only then, when she was fully exposed, except for her thong, did he touch her there. She almost swooned. Immediately the heel of his palm ground against her most vulnerable part, causing it to ache in a most delicious way. And then... and then... and THEN, his expert fingers plied their arts in the most incredible, sexual way just where she wanted, just the way she needed. How did he know all that? Why didn’t all men know that?

  Even though his left hand pressed against her tummy, she was able to arch up, up, up when her orgasm hit her in nerve-splintering waves. The whole time, he whispered wicked, graphic things in her ears, all encouraging her to let loose. Which she did. And she couldn’t even be embarrassed about that. Not even her scream of ecstasy in the end, which could have awakened the dead, or Tante Lulu, which it thankfully did not.

  As her racing heart returned to normal and drowsiness overcame her, she felt her restraints come loose and Rene cuddled her in his arms, crooning soft words to soothe her. She felt his erection pressing against her side, and she murmured, “You didn’t come yet.”

  “Next time, chère. Next time, guaranteed.”

  “But it’s not fair... that I got all the pleasure.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. I got pleasure, too. It was the best—”

  “Puh-leeze,” she interrupted. “Don’t try to tell me it was the best sex you ever had. I’m not buyin’ that line.”

  “Tsk -tsk -tsk !” He chuckled and nipped her bottom lip with his teeth. “It was the best near-sex I ever had.”

  She couldn’t argue with that.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Two years . . . and counting

  He couldn’t avoid Val any longer.

  It was probably delusional of him, but he wanted to remember last night as a good experience. If Val was like most women, she would pull a Jekyll-and-Hyde on him now and turn the whole thing into one of those morning-after regrets. It’s not you, Rene. It’s me. Yada, yada, yada.

  Although it was barely 9 a.m., Remy had just landed his copter in the bayou on its water buoys, thus scaring the bejesus out of every animal within five miles. Tante Lulu was inside the cabin doing some last-minute packing; she was probably also making him meals for the next few days, unable to believe he could cope on his own. Val was inside the cabin, too, doing God only knew what. For sure, she was avoiding him, just as he was her.

  They had to talk before she left. But he refused to ask her what she was going to do about the “kidnapping” once she was back in Houma. And he sure as hell didn’t want to discuss their near-sex episode. Maybe I should just shake her hand and say, “Thank s for a great time, sugar. See ya.” Oh, yeah, that would go over great. What I’d really like to say is, “Wow! You and I made magic, Val. I would really like to get to know you better. And I don’t just mean sex. Can I call you sometime ? “

  Oh, yeah, that would go over great, too. She would think I just wanted another chance to pick upwhere we left off. I do, but... aaarrgh!

  Remy crawled out of the copter followed by their half-brother, sixteen-year-old Tee-John, who’d presumably come along for the ride. Both of them worked to tie the vehicle’s rigging to a tree stump. Then, grinning from ear to ear, they waded through the water toward him.

  “Hey, Rene,” Remy said, still grinning.

  “Hey, Rene,” Tee-John said, also continuing to grin.

  “ ‘Bout time you got here,” he complained, which was a really ridiculous thing for him to say.

  “I don’t see any blood or bruises,” Remy remarked as he came up on the bank. His boots and khaki pants were wet up to the knees.

  He didn’t bother to answer, recognizing the mischievous glint in his brother’s eyes.

  “I mean, I figure four days with you and Valerie ‘Ice’ Breaux together, she should have done some major damage to you by now. At the least you should have freezer burn on some important body parts,”

  Remy explained, pretending to examine his body for frostbite.

  “There is that mark on his neck,” Tee-John pointed out, also coming up to stand in front of him. He wore only a tank top, swimming trunks, and athletic shoes sans socks. He probably considered himself some kind of Teenage Hunk of the Month. He probably was.

  “I suppose it could be a bruise from her trying to st
rangle him to death,” Remy said to Tee-John.

  “Or it could be a hickey,” Tee-John offered back.

  “Or teeth marks,” Remy observed. “Yep, that’s what I think it is.”

  Uh-oh. Before he could catch himself, Rene slapped a hand to the suspicious spot, thus confirming his brothers’ suspicions.

  Laughing openly now, his brothers were slapping each other on the back with glee. At his expense.

  “Did you run into a door, bro?” Tee-John asked then.

  “No. Why?” Sometimes I don’t have the sense God gave a goose. I should know better than to encourage my brothers.

  “I could swear your lips are all puffy-like.”

  “I’ll give you puffy-like.” Rene reached out an arm to punch his brother, but he feinted left, then right, and put some distance between them.

  “You are in deep shit,” Remy remarked then, just a mite serious, although his lips still twitched with mirth. “And I don’t mean for fooling around with Val.”

  “Tell me about it.” And he didn’t mean that as encouragement for Remy to actually tell him something.

  Tee-John walked past him, up the steps, and into the cabin. They could hear him teasing Tante Lulu, who loved the scamp. She would probably be feeding him before they left, figuring he might die of hunger if he didn’t get any of her good Cajun food in his belly.

  “J.B. and Maddie took their shrimp boat out to the Gulf for a few days of fishing,” Remy told him, sitting down on the steps. “Luc ordered them to stay out of sight till you talked with them.”

  “Good.”

  “They think you walk on water, Bro.”

  “The last time I tried, I was three sheets to the wind and I got a bucket of water up my nose.”

  Remy grinned at him. “But, man, forget about your fan club. Everyone else in the world is gonna be on your tail. It’s a good thing you’re not coming back today.”

  Rene joined his brother on the porch and let his silence be a question.

  “Val’s mother is on the rampage. Threatening lawsuits. Claiming her daughter would never get involved with any of those wacky environmentalists or any of those wacky LeDeuxs.”

  The two brothers smiled at each other, not at all concerned about the LeDeux reputation. In fact, they’d both done plenty to fuel it over the years.