Page 21

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

S aint…

We got the call from Lafitte’s that a Bayou Brethren was cozied up with some broad at the bar. I was both hoping it was and wasn’t Velina.

Chainsaw, Axeman, and I got on our bikes and headed out that way. Lafitte’s was our bar. No, it wasn’t what you would consider a biker bar, but we were getting too long in the tooth to live it up and throw down on the regular, and Lafitte’s had a low-key kind of vibe that we liked. It was chill, and it was where we liked to chill. The Bayou Bitches knew that, and the silent challenge couldn’t go unanswered, even if we were all under scrutiny from the PD.

Ye haw, fuck the law, I thought as we pulled up against the curb, wedging our bikes into some back-in angle parking in a gap left between two cars that would barely fit a fuckin’ Mini Cooper.

We all silently checked with each other and, after some quick, curt nods, went up the rest of the block on Philips to the corners it shared with Bourbon.

Lafitte’s wasn’t much to look at, all things considered. A squat, stucco-and-exposed-brick building with open doorways or large windows to the street lined to either side with rough- hewn shutters that were as big as doors and served as ‘em when the place was shut and locked.

Gas lamps flickered, and the hurricane lamps and fireplace were lit within. I caught the bartender’s eye as we stepped in and threw him some chin. He threw me some back, subtly, and jerked his head to the side in the direction of our offender. I scanned the bar, and my eyes fell on Velina as she smiled and tried to look interested in whatever the blond fucker from the Brethren was talking about.

I wandered right up to the bar and looked over, her keen green eyes meeting mine. She raised her eyebrows almost imperceptibly, and I smirked.

She gave me what I could only call a warning look, and my smirk turned into a grin.

“You, uh, ever want a real man? Look me up,” I told her – or something to that effect anyway. I handed her one of my cards.

Brazenly and never losing eye contact with me, she tore it up and threw it over me like a baptism in stupid.

“Thanks, but no, thanks ,” she said flatly and spun on her bar stool to turn back to her date.

I laughed and we took our drinks to our table while I fucking seethed . Not at Velina, but at the motherfucker she was with. His fuckin’ audacity at being here, of all the fuckin’ bars in the Quarter. His audacity at bringing her here. For all he knew, she was an innocent and not a part of the life at all. He damn sure didn’t give a shit about her well-being, just about scoring another point in all this made-up bullshit drama against the Voodoo Bastards.

It chapped my ass, man. Enough that I couldn’t help myself in staring them down the entire rest of the fuckin’ time they were there.

When they finally got up and left, we watched them go, the juvenile with Velina reaching a hand back to flip our table the bird as they exited the building. Chainsaw and Axeman rose, chairs scraping, and I shook my head and barked, “Sit down, boys! Here ain’t the time nor the place.”

They sank back into their seats, and Chainsaw said, “I’m suddenly a lot less worried about her and how she’s going to pull this off.”

“Can’t say I disagree with that sentiment,” Axe said with a wolfish grin.

“Glad you two knuckleheads are so confident,” I said, scowling.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Chainsaw declared. “Just less worried than I was.”

I nodded and tossed back the rest of my tequila, which turned to the bitter ash of damnation in my mouth.

I had it bad for Velina.

There was no denying that now – not when I wanted to rip that motherfucker’s head off his shoulders and shit down his neck just for touching her back possessively to steer her out of the bar.

“Where ‘re you goin?” Chainsaw demanded when I stood up with some finality.

“Home,” I said and he and Axe exchanged a look.

“For real home, or…” I looked back at them both, and Axe raised his eyebrows in a silent, you good?

“For real. Home,” I said, and I went out into the revelry on Bourbon, dodging drunken partiers and heading for the bikes.

I got on mine and fished out my keys, sighing.

I didn’t go home. I headed in that direction for Metairie but found myself taking the turn into the parking lot of the garish yellow building that housed the La Chiquita Motel.

I parked way in the back, up under the shadow of a pair of palm trees against the cinderblock wall, and sat on my bike for a while, thinking about nothing and everything all at once.

What if she brought him back here? What if he followed her up?

I’d kill him.

I’d have to.

I couldn’t fathom him touching her like I did. I couldn’t picture her moving underneath him the way she moved under me without this incendiary rage building until I felt like my ribs fucking cracked trying to contain it in my chest.

I lit a cigarette, drew in a lungful of rich tobacco smoke, and breathed it out through my nose – a dragon, lurking in the dark, standing watch over his treasure – but she wasn’t here. At least, not yet.

I wondered briefly how long I would be waiting when I heard the distant roar of pipes.

I couldn’t tell you how I knew it was them, I just did. Sure enough, the headlamp on his rig swept the lot, and he pulled in a smooth arc into one of the open spots in front of Velina’s room. She hopped off the bike and handed him his helmet. He took it, leaning it against his hip.

I couldn’t hear their discussion, but she was all smiles, and so was he. So whatever it was, it was lighthearted and not bad.

Why did that run across my soul like the business side of a fuckin’ cheese grater?

I held still so as not to give away my position as he pulled her in and laid one on her, a kiss goodbye.

Fuck.

I felt my palms itch with the urge to fuckin’ slap him.

Velina practically skipped to the fuckin’ stairwell and took the stairs like a gazelle to the second floor, walking along and stopping against the railing to wave goodbye at the fuckstick as he backed out of his space – even going so far as to blow him a kiss as he put it in gear and took off back toward Veterans.

As soon as she was clear, her shoulders sagged, and she huffed a sigh out into the humid night air.

I got off my bike and went for the stairs on this end, taking them up to her floor two at a time.

She was just sliding her key card into the slot above the door handle when I crashed into her from behind, shoving her in through the door and kicking it shut behind us. I spun her in my arms, captured her chin in my hand, and forced her head up to accept my lips as they crashed into hers.

She made a little shout of fear, and it thrilled me, but not nearly as much as it did when she recognized who it was that had her and how she melted into my arms. Her tongue plunged into my mouth, and she kissed me back with every bit of passion I put behind my own lips. My hands smoothed over her clothed body, annoyed at the rough denim under them rather than the silky soft smooth feel of her skin.

“Saint!” she gasped my name, tearing her mouth from mine. “You scared the life out of me!”

“You should always have your key out and ready,” I growled into her ear. “This could have been anyone.”

“Noted,” she said flatly. “But it isn’t, and I’m glad you’re here.”

Her arms went around me, and I held her tight, lifting her, her legs automatically going around my hips as she clung to me, and I took her to the bed.

All conscious thought fled and wonder took its place as our clothes came off, our lips finding skin, and the kissing turned into a deeper exploration of one another.

By the time I nestled my shoulders between her thighs, holding her open for me, there was only one place left for me to kiss.

I slid a fingertip along her slit, her panting and moaning music to my ears. It was almost too easy how my middle finger slid up inside her, and I fucking loved how she arched against the bed for me, pressing her body down into my hand, eager for more.

I locked my lips around her clit, and teased the little kernel of flesh standing tight and erect with her pleasure with the tip of my tongue. She tasted sweeter than honey, rich with desire, and the way her hallowed green eyes looked down the length of her body into mine, framed by the peaks of her pert nipples, through the chasm of the valley of her breasts – fuck, I burned that shit into my memory.

She was like fluid fire, the way she moved, the way she burned against my palms and my tongue. I smoothed my hands over her silky skin, back and forth, up and down her beautiful curves. She was amazing. She was pure magic if you believed in such things.

I didn’t. At least I hadn’t… not until I’d held her in my arms. Not until she’d kissed me and bewitched me better than any hoodoo woman or swamp witch could.

I brought her, screaming, with my hand and my mouth, teasing the most intimate parts of hers, making her melt, making her mine, and it was a wonder that any woman as strong-willed and ornery as she was could submit so completely.

She did, though – beautifully.

She panted as I climbed her body with gentle presses of my lips, cock straining so hard I thought I was liable to split the skin. It was almost too sensitive as I slicked the head of my dick through her wetness against her soft velvet folds. It was even harder holding back when she looked at me with such perfect trust in her eyes to make her feel good.

“Please,” she begged me quietly, her breath panting, her voice breathy, her arms twining around my neck and dragging my mouth to hers.

I kissed her deeply as I slipped inside her, and it was something else – something I had no words for. A sensation like no other. A feeling like I’d tasted something before, but not to this degree. The smell of some wonderful confection that you’d only ever just scented on the wind, and this was your first real taste of it.

It tasted like home . She felt like home to me. It was the only explanation I had for it. Like arriving at a comfortable destination, at once familiar and sweet after spending eons on the road, riding under a hot sun, the grit of sand scouring your exposed skin.

Sliding into her was soothing in a way I just didn’t have any words for.

It hit me that I wasn’t jealous that she’d been with that fucker – no, I’d been scared for her. I hated the thought of any harm coming to her – more than she’d already endured – which, by the judge of it, had been a lot.

I held onto her, moved inside her with care, and kissed her carefully. Drawing back, her eyes fluttered open, and there was a hidden question in their depths. One I tried my best to answer with actions, not words.

I was sure she’d been paid enough lip service for one night. I wasn’t about to pay her anymore. No, I would show her instead.

I would show her all night if that’s what it took.