Chapter 1
Brook Meier eased fromthe back of the white Toyota, securing the small travel bag on her shoulders before extending her thanks to the Uber driver: ”Thanks again, Lance. Be safe.” The Uber driver had been timely, and she appreciated his promptness. The New Orleans heat slapped her like a sauna, something she”s not used to. Still, she”d waited forever to visit this once-in-a-lifetime city.
”No problem, welcome to N”awlins, darlin”.”
A smile as long as the Mississippi curved into place. She loved this city already, even with the heat. The energy filled her from head to toe, and even though she arrived at the party late, dog-tired and still in the same clothes she wore to work that morning, Brook was thrilled at the thought of spending two whole days with the girls in none other than the French Quarters. They”d planned this trip months ago, and no amount of last-minute schedule changes would keep her away.
She glanced up the dimly lit walkway of the double (duplex) shotgun house they”d rented online. Brook attempted to remember Kimber”s instruction on how to get to their side of the house because she warned that the layout in these typical style houses differed. The quintessential design has unique entryways with a narrow footprint, and guests walk through bedrooms to go between living rooms and the kitchen. Shotgun homes offered no privacy; all the doors were open and allowed guests the comfort of being together. They would also share a wall with a neighboring tenant next door who worked nights. So their partying would not suffer; thank goodness for that news. From the looks of the interior online, it held that historic New Orleans charm and sat blocks away from their intended destination, Bourbon Street. The address had one house number, but their entrance was on the left side of the house.
Brook reached into her side pocket for her phone, pushed the call button for Kimber, started up the path but missed a step, and stumbled into arms that seemed to fall from the sky.
”Whoa, watch your step.” The deep voice penetrated Brook”s soul, temporarily striking her mute. Heat climbed up her back, and suffocating air filled her heaving lungs. The hard knot in her throat didn”t offer a cry or scream; legs and arms offered no resistance, no fight or flight. She, in essence, stared up into the dimly lit face without sight or the capacity to defend herself. The dropped bag and phone lost their sense of importance, and for more than ten seconds, Brook fell prey to an attack that could regrettably cost her dearly.
The strange hands righted her into standing but didn”t release Brook until she finally found balance and stepped back. She glanced around, hoping to find someone else around in case she needed help. However, she saw no one. The street, empty with only the sounds of a Blue Grass tempo a few blocks away, offered her no assistance.
”Are you okay?” His voice softened this time and broke into her awareness but did nothing for the uncontrollable shivers. The warm night air mixed with the heady timbre of his New Orleans drawl pulled at a cord that sent heat to the space that had no relevance in this current predicament. Still solid and heady, the appeal paralyzed her momentarily and shut out the music.
He moved forward, but startled, and quickly released from her stupor, Brook raised her hands to halt his progress. He stepped back and held up two empty hands. Slowly, bravely, she lifted her eyes to capture his face, trying to decide what to do if she needed to escape. At least she would get a good look at his face. She swallowed hard and let her gaze travel up the stranger”s frame. He wore a dark New York T-shirt, and the letters glow in the dark, which is the only reason she knew what it said. She took another step back, and so did he. The threat lessened; nonetheless, it did not give her relief. She turned again to assess her surroundings. Brook gently chastised herself for not being more aware of her surroundings. She sucked in a long breath and, this time took a side step to move out of his direct reach.
”Yes, I”m fine.” Brook bent to retrieve her bag and phone. She jumped when he moved again. This time, she glared at the man, which filled her heart with uncertainty. However, when he pulled out his cell phone and turned on the flashlight, Brook felt a bit of calm returned. The light offered her a chance to locate both the bag and phone. But it also provided something else: a glimpse of his face. His eyes and hair were light, although she couldn”t tell what color they were. Tall and slender, he watched her with piqued interest, but Brook saw no malice in his face or posture, which put her at ease. The glimmer in his eyes seemed to bore straight through her, so she turned quickly.
”Again, thank you. I better get inside.” She pointed to the porch light and moved quickly.
”Be careful; there”s another step-down. These old houses still have the original pathways with notches to keep the grounds from flooding.”
Brook paused and turned. His concern touched a deep-seated place that forced her to take a second look at her rescuer. He stood still, the phone flashlight bright, and pointed down the pathway. She returned on her journey, carefully taking each with care. When she reached the front porch, Brook pulled on the left side unlocked screen door, turned the knob, and pushed the ornate wooden framed door with intricate glass in the center open. Before completely closing the door behind her, she watched the man walk up the same porch. Her heart quickened at the thought that he might push behind her, but he turned to the right until he was out of sight. Before long, she heard the door to the other side of the house shut.
Breathing a sigh of relief, she leaned against the door and dropped her bag to the floor. Once more, she was startled when Saline snuck up next to her.
”Hey you, it”s about time you got your ass here!” Saline squealed. ”Hey ladies, guess who”s here?” she cheered.
Brook pushed from the door, still overcome by her recent interaction with the man she now realizes is a tenant next door. She hugged Saline and then Jasmine. Both had a glass in their hands and from the scent of their breath, she assumed that the drinking likely started hours ago. ”Where are the other two?”
”In the kitchen, which is at the back of the house,” a tipsy Jasmine slurred. This place is the weirdest house I”ve ever been in; wait and see.” Her voice was now high-pitched, a sure indication that the girl had already drunk more than her share. In another hour, she would be passed out someplace.
Both friends pulled her by the arm and led her through the maze, moving from one room to the next without doors. The shiny, high-glossed wooden floor extended from one room to the next. She spotted Kimber at the kitchen sink, pouring wine into a pitcher filled with sliced fresh fruit.
”Look what I found,” Saline announced.
Christa and Kimber both turned and squealed. ”Yay! The crew is complete!”
Brook hugged everyone, temporarily dismissing the encounter on the other side of the front door for now. ”I didn”t think you guys would be here. I expected you to already be in the streets.”
”Well, we didn”t want to go without you. Besides, it”s still early.” Kimber lifted the pitcher. ”I decided to get an early start on the sangria. Should be nice and spicy by the time we get back.”
”And, old lady Christa, here, made some snacks. So get your ass into some fly clothes so we check out Bourbon Street.” Saline pulled her towards the bathroom.
”Can we just...”
”Hell, no!” They all shout in unison.
”Dang, I got it. I guess I can sleep when I return home.”
”Yep, something like that. Hurry,” Saline insisted.
”So pushy.” Brook walked into the bathroom with the colossal porcelain foot tub in the center of it. A white cotton curtain hung from a ceiling and wrapped it. She showered, taking a moment to wash away the day”s weariness. Brook paused the sponge against her arms, remembering the feel of strong hands that held her with intense masculinity and sensuality. Something she”d not felt in a long time. Damn! Even in her fear, he managed to render desire and a longing. The call from the other side of the door pulled her back to the reality at hand. ”Hurry up, Brook,” Kimber shout above the water. ”We”re ready to go!”
Brook turned off the shower, dried off, lathered up with body cream left on the counter, and squeezed into the snug tank dress. She brushed and whipped her loose blonde curls back and added a clip. With a quick swipe of pink gloss to her lips, Brook felt like a new person. Not until they stepped out the door did she hesitate, remembering his touch, the heat of his eyes, and the scent of his breath on her face. The crew turned and looked back when she didn”t follow them down the two steps of the porch.
”What gives, Brook?” Kimber moved up a step.
”Aw, nothing. Did you know that there”s a guy next door?”
”No one was home when we got in earlier today. Why, did you see someone?” Christa asked.
”I thought this person worked at night. At least that”s what the owner said.” Jasmine added.
”Well, I did see someone tonight, but I”m unsure who he is. Oh, and watch your step. I almost broke my ass coming in here.” She stepped down before looking back at the door on the right side of the porch.
The moment they turned the corner to the lively street buzzing with a mixture of old and new vibrant building balconies, hanging moss, greenery, and beads, neon signs rustled by the movement of people, shoulder to shoulder, smothered by a sea of throbbing music and the spicy scents of herbs, spices, and seafood, all that energy propelled Brook forward. At 11:00 p.m., it was still hot. She”d never been in or seen anything like it before. The crew fell into step with the sea of tourists, consumed by the lazy stroll, drunken by hot and hazy cocktails, and stimulated by overly zealous street performers. The first drink of the night was a tall cylinder filled with strawberry Hurricane, followed by endless shots of tequila and whiskey. Brook watched her friends consume more drinks than she did. She only pretended to consume it all but instead tossed most of it on the ground.
They finally stumbled back to the house, rowdy enough to wake the dead. ”Ssshhhh!” Christa slurred and swayed with the others as they attempted to climb the two steps together. ”You”re too loud.”
”Wait! I go first...” Kimber pushed forward. ”I got this.” She yanked open the screen door and pushed into the house. They”d not bothered locking the doors before leaving.
Once everyone entered, Kimber pulled out the pitcher of sangria and a tray of meat, cheese, and pickled veggies. They ate and drank more, toasting each other in celebration. ”Here”s to a well-deserved break from...”
”Don”t say the word, Saline. We”re not allowed.” Jasmine warned.
”Yep, I know. Anyway, here”s to us. Two days, ladies!”
They all toasted and sipped from the fruity mixture. The food they”d consumed along the way helped, and as Brook had noted earlier, Saline and Jasmine had already consumed their limit. Both fell asleep, one on the floor and the other in an elliptical French-style chair. Kimber and Christa huddled up on the short sofa. But Brook managed to babysit her drinks, not consuming anywhere close to what her friends had, and remained the only sober person in the house. She stood and stretched her arms above her head before walking towards the kitchen.
Brook pulled a bottle of water from the fridge, opened the back door, and stepped onto the small patio with a short balcony aligned with potted plants. The stale air, warm yet refreshing, eased across her skin. She released the clamp in her hair, shaking loose curls from side to side when she yelped. ”Goodness!” She jumped.
The same stranger she bumped into earlier sat on the opposite side of the patio that extended to his side of the building, separated by a short wooden gate. He hid quietly in the semi-dark corner across from where she stood; a small ledge adorned with vines separated the two spaces. Brook dropped the water bottle, and luckily, the cap remained closed. She leaped back into the still-open door with a hand over her mouth to stifle the scream at the base of her throat. She glanced back through the kitchen at the sleeping crew and realized trouble would surely win if she had to wait on this bunch. Her friends, useless at this point, slumbered in the face of potential danger.
”Excuse me. I didn”t mean to startle you. Please, I”ll go inside to give you some space.” His voice trailed through the open door. Brook could hear footsteps as the wooden patio creaked with movement. ”Sorry.”
Again, the rich timbre triggered a cord in her womanhood that touched spaces she”d not felt in a long time, shifting all senses toward his strong voice. The smooth drawl with deep bass undertones felt dangerously intoxicating. Not even the alcohol she”d consumed could compete with the drunkenness it induced. Brook heard more shuffling of feet, prompting her to move through the doors again, heart beating against her chest, eager to face the call she didn”t quite understand.
”No, please, don”t. I didn”t know you were out here.” She moved closer to the ledge, not understanding why, but did without hesitation.
This time, she saw his face clearly, highlighted by the light from his open door. She sluggishly admired the bold lines of his handsome face. Brook drowned in eyes so light that she lost her breath. They swallowed her whole.
”I”m Mason. Again, I didn”t mean to startle you.”
Brook continued to stare. His body screamed masculinity: tall and lean with powerful arms and legs. She gaped shamefully, allowing her gaze to travel completely up his body until his magical eyes again arrested her. ”I”m Brook. ugh...” She lost her train of thought even though a thousand questions rang in her head; she”d moved only a few steps away from the flimsy gate of the ledge.
He chuckled. His face softened as he smiled down at Brook, proving that he had as much charm as sexuality.
”First time in N”awlins, darlin”?” Mason stepped back onto the patio. The curve of his lips deepened, revealing an even more dangerous sensuality. In response, the heat traveled to her center before returning and flushing her face warmly. A soft moan hung in her throat, instantly sending the same heat racing down her body once again. The unexplainable sensation bolded her next move.
This time, Brook stepped closer, tilting her head to one side. She leaned forward as if Mason had commanded her to. ”Yes,” she said barely above a whisper.
Mason moved closer. ”You”re absolutely beautiful.”
Brook dropped her lids and parted her lips again as if instructed. Mesmerized by his fire and body fragrance, she”d relented to the stranger she”d only met hours ago, ready to feel his strong hands again. The wait seemed like an eternity, but Mason seemed to know what she”d requested and didn”t disappoint. He closed the gap between them, against the ledge their only separator, and covered her lips with a soul-drenching kiss; one hand cupped her face while the other drew her closer. Mason deepened the kiss in those few seconds, landing her somewhere between Mars and the moon before dropping her back to Earth again. Brook tasted the sweetness of whiskey on his lips and knew he could taste the alcohol on hers as well. The heated air from his nostrils fanned her face with a sensual breeze that flamed her into senseless submission.
He lifted his head, but Brook refused to let go, holding his arms. She reached up again for more sweet nectar, and he obliged without pause. He gently moved from her top lip to the bottom one with expert precision, melting away all resistance in her posture. And when he let go a second time, Mason whispered, ”You”re as sweet as honey, you know that?”
Brook pulled away, still under his spell but aware enough to know that she”d just seduced this man. Still, she liked it. Brook hoped to encounter the thrill while there. And here she stood, doing exactly that. She smiled and looked away before capturing his exotic eyes again. ”I know that was a bit forward. I hope you won”t hold that against me.” She held Mason”s gaze.
”Absolutely not. I”m a little surprised, but very pleased. Are you enjoying yourself while here in my city?” His lips creased into a lazy, seductive smile.
”Your city?”
”Yes, I claim it as much as my neighbors, bae.”
His drawl and handsome face continued to fuel her attraction. And, of course, his kisses—she would never tire of them. Brook grew confident in the sudden exchange and decided to explore more and discover where it might lead them.
”It”s friendly, very intriguing, and...”
”And?” Mason stepped back, severing the connection, his touch.
”I”m enjoying myself. I”ll have to wait to give my overall impression.”
”Would you like to join me?” Mason offered. He extended his hand to her.
”Yes, I would love that, if you don”t mind.”
Mason took Brook”s hand, unlatching the hook that opened the gate, and gently pulled her through the opening and into a brief hug before leading her through a screen door. The musty cologne gently greeted her, as did the warm lighting of each room. He wrapped warm fingers around her hand and led Brook through the kitchen to a bedroom he”d turned into a studio filled with musical instruments, headphones, vinyl albums, and equipment she couldn”t name even if she wanted to.
”Wow!” She turned from Mason to the packed room. ”What”s all this?”
”My mini studio.” Mason released her hand, moved over to a record player, and dropped the arm on top of a vinyl spinning on the platform; instantly filling the room with a sassy Bluegrass song. When he turned, Mason held open arms, which didn”t take long before Brook entered them and closed the space. He led, and Brook followed, allowing them to move around the small space in a seductive swaying of hips.
Brook felt his rise pulsating against her, compelling the need to get closer and wanting to feel all of him. She pressed firmly; the warm liquid flowed to that secret space and eagerly throbbed in response to the growth at her center. The bluesy melody infused the rhythm of their gyration, intensified the dip of his hands on her rump, and added fervor she no longer could control. With her head buried into Mason”s neck, Brook surrendered. The music continued, but they ignored the tempo altogether. Lost in the seductive trance and consumed by the need to quench the burn, Brook used all the strength in her arms to pull up and wrap her legs around him, hoping it would help gain access to the fire stick now fully erected beneath the black biking shorts. The fitted dress rolled up her thighs, and the now damp thong seemed to be the only obstruction to getting what she wanted.
With ease, Mason helped by grabbing her thighs and pressing harder against him. Brook loosened her arms and allowed her body to fall back, her breast tips hard and sensitive perked up even more. Mason, like a champ, dropped his mouth as fiery lips traveled down the length of her neck and, without prompting, softly nimble each breast tip hidden beneath the cotton tank dress. Moans filled the air, hands and lips explored, and neither cared that the song had changed. However, the crooning in the music seemingly intensified the excitement of what would come next. They started a different dance that made Brook unaware that she was being transported from the mini-studio to the bed across the way. And even after Mason dropped her on top of the chilled comforter, she refused to release the hold around his waist.
”Sweetness, I”m going to make love to you. Please stop me now. Otherwise, I”m not sure I”ll be able to stop.” He hovered above Brook, still in the security of her leg-lock. He kissed her a few times before giving her a chance to reply.
Instead of answering, Brook loosened her legs, moved busy fingers down, and lifted his shirt until the garment was pulled free. She drew long lines down the ripple of muscles and enjoyed the intricate contours of his hairy chest. She then reached for the waistband of Mason”s shorts when his hands halted her progress.