Chapter 7
Zephyr
Iloved Jazz Sessions. I loved my life. I played music. I made people happy. I had awesome friends, and now that both Blaze and Rome were back in N”awlins for good, I had my brothers with me. I had my close friend Angela. I had a vast number of nubile young women—I preferred tourists—who wanted nothing more than to bounce on the dick of a guitar player.
Life couldn”t have gotten better—and that”s when Blaze dropped his bomb that he wanted me back in the Doucet fold. I understood his motives, but it didn”t mean I liked them.
”Cher, your prissy girlfriend”s back,” Miles ”Sticks” Dubois, our band”s drummer, mentioned as we tuned our instruments.
I watched Grace walk in with Nick and Ash.
”She ain”t my girlfriend, Sticks.”
”What is she then?” Beau ”Keys” Fitzgerald, our piano player, wanted to know.
”She”s a fuckin” ADA, cher,” I told them.
Keys riffed Pretty Woman on the piano. ”She looks hot in that porno secretary kinda way,” he continued. ”She let her hair loose, drop to her knees, and suck—”
”Shut up, Keys,” I said in good humor. He was riling me up.
”Before you fuck her, you gotta remove that stick up her ass, though.” Miles grimaced when we all saw Grace give a guy who stood a little too close to her the stink eye.
”I don”t wanna fuck the new ADA, cher. She”s got all kinds of trouble written all over her.” All lies! I wanted her in my bed, not for long, but just long enough to satisfy the hell out of each other. She was just the kind of woman you wanted to see lose control because of you.
And, yeah, the whole sexy secretary routine was a major turn-on. But I”d learned a long time ago not to shit where I ate. Since Blaze wanted me to liaise with the NOPD through Grace, the sensible option was to bed the pretty blonde sitting at a table close to the stage, her breasts all but heaving out of her dress and—I”d bet the bar that she wasn”t wearing any panties because I sure as hell saw some bare pussy when she crossed and uncrossed her legs.
”Thank you all for coming to Jazz Sessions tonight,” I spoke into the microphone. ”I know y”all are wondering if Blaze will jam with us tonight. You gotta ask his boss that. That be the gorgeous Detective Nichola Renault who”s heating up our bar by just bein” here. I don”t know if y”all know, but Nick here took pity on my sumbitch brother and agreed to marry him. Come on, Nick, show everyone your pretty ring.”
Even from all the way up from the stage, I could see Nick roll her eyes. She held up her ring finger, and everyone cheered.
”That be enough, Nick; you don”t want to blind us all,” I remarked to a smatter of laughter. ”Also, in the house, we have Detective Ash Steele, who took down the bad guy who hurt Blaze. Give it up for Ash.”
Ash got up and did the bowing and royal waving thing, enjoying the hell out of it.
”Tonight, we gonna start with some just a little old, just a little naughty and just…a whole lot of perfect. This song is for a Little Tempest.”
I nodded to the band and the opening melody of Cole Porter”s ”Let”s Misbehave” filtered through. The bar became silent.
I usually didn”t sing; I liked the guitar, but today, watching Grace there getting all flustered because I called her out oh so intimately in public, I couldn”t help but tease her some more.
”We”re all alone, no chaperone,” I crooned, and the crowd clapped. ”Can get our number. The world”s in slumber…oh, come on, Little Tempest, let”s misbehave.”
We started with Cole Porter and flowed seamlessly into a set that felt as if it were curated for Grace herself, even though I hadn”t planned it that way.
After the playful invitation of ”Let”s Misbehave,” we dipped into the sultry depths of ”Moody”s Mood for Love.” That”s when Blaze joined us, and his saxophone”s croon wove through the air like a serenade.
”Let”s give it up for Blaze,” I called out after, and the crowd went wild. Blaze was still recovering from his gunshot wound, but I knew he”d do another song.
We mellowed into Joseph Kosma”s ”Autumn Leaves,” a fantastic jazz piece that allowed for both the saxophone and guitar to jam and play off each other, showcasing each instrument while also blending together beautifully.
This was one of the first jazz pieces that Blaze and I had started practicing playing together, and it was one of our go-to pieces. I loved it because it was classic and gave ample space to improvise, which we both did.
”Thanks, Blaze, now go catch your breath, old man,” I teased when we were done. ”You just listened to ”Autumn Leaves.” It”s one of our favorites and captures the essence of jazz: collaboration, improvisation, and emotion. We”re going to take a fifteen-minute break. We gonna be right back with the famous and ubiquitous ”Take Five.””
I walked to the bar with Sticks, who hugged Nick, high-fived Ash, and when introduced to Grace, picked up her hand and kissed her knuckles. ”Oh, cher, but you ah beautiful.”
Grace flushed. ”Thank you.”
”Now, darlin”, I”ve got to know. Are you single? Not that it could be possible for someone who looks as fine as you to be…unattached.” Sticks was laying it on thick.
”She”s taken, you son of a bitch,” I told him, throwing out the window my intentions of not getting pulled into his little routine. Just the idea of Grace taking up with Sticks in any way made my blood first go cold and then heat up. What the fuck?
”Taken?” Sticks murmured. ”Ah, cher, as much I want to, and I know you want to…I can”t poach. But when you”re done with his sad ass, you come and find me, alright.” He kissed the back of her hand again and strolled to the other side of the bar to order his drink.
”Taken?” Nick murmured, amused.
”Like in the Liam Neeson movie?” Ash, the asshole, wanted to know.
”Can we talk?” I didn”t wait for Grace”s answer; I just grabbed her arm and maneuvered her outside Jazz Sessions.
”Where do you think you”re taking me?” she demanded, trying to jerk her arm away.
”Upstairs.”
”Why?”
Fuck, if I knew!
”Need to talk.”
”Fine, but can you let go of me? I need to give you an update on the case as well, so the caveman routine is not needed.” She sighed.
She was in a purple sheath dress that hugged her body like a fucking lover. The tan heels she wore just made everyone”s mouth water because it made it look like she had endless legs. Her hair was tied up, but I”d fix that as soon as I put my mouth on her lips, which were painted burgundy and looked good enough to eat like a ripe grape.
The jazz bar came with an apartment, and when Blaze and I bought it, that was important because Gaia needed a place to stay. But now Gaia lived in the Quarter in a gorgeous little house with her husband Rome; Blaze, who lived here for a hot minute, was now living with Nick at her place in Faubourg Marigny. My house on Burgundy Street, which had been a labor of love, had met a firebomb recently and was right now unlivable, so I moved into the apartment. It was comfortable but small. It had an open-plan living, dining, and kitchen; a small bathroom and bedroom; and a tiny balcony. But Gaia had made it cozy, homey. Thankfully, Blaze had gotten rid of her full-size bed and put in a king, saving me time and energy. I had no idea how Rome slept in that tiny bed with Gaia before he convinced her to let him buy her a house.
I gestured to the couch and Grace settled on it, legs crossed, back straight. Man, but she made me want to mess her up so bad.
”Drink?” I asked as I pulled out a beer from the fridge.
”No, thank you.”
I sat down next to her on the couch, crowding her. ”How are you doin”?”
She didn”t move away, not wanting to show me how uneasy I was making her by getting into her personal space. ”Good. I…we have a green light for our operation.”
I took a pull of my beer and set it on the coffee table. I reached for her ponytail and yanked off her hair tie.
”What do you think you”re doing and—”
”I like your hair loose.” I ran my fingers through their silkiness.
”Zephyr, I don”t think—”
”Don”t think for a minute.” I pulled her into a kiss. What was it about this woman? Why did she pull at me so? Since the masquerade ball, I kept wanting to put my hands on her whenever I saw her.
She had the sweetest fucking mouth. And she kissed like she was starved for intimacy and attention. She was tentative at first and bolder soon thereafter. She sucked my tongue in, and I groaned. My hands ran over her dress and slid the zipper of her dress down. The skin on her back was soft, smooth, and I slid my hand down, down, down and cupped an ass cheek.
Her fingers dived into my hair, and I moved her so she was sitting on my lap. I lifted my mouth away from hers. ”Hey,” I whispered, loving how good arousal looked on her.
”Hi,” she murmured.
Before she could find her bearings, I dropped the sleeves of her dress down and loved the skin-colored lacy confection of a bra she had on. I dipped my head to take the brown nipple into my mouth. It was erotic to suckle her through the silk.
Her hips moved on my lap as she held me close to her. I moved from one nipple to the other, loving her response to my mouth.
I slid a hand up her dress and found her damp panties. Fuckin” hell. Prim and proper, Grace was hot as hell—my own personal tempest. I slid a finger inside her and felt her jump against my mouth.
”Shh, shh, let me feel you, Little Tempest.”
”Zephyr,” she dragged my name out of her mouth, her head thrown back, her body as tight as a bow.
”You want to come, baby?”
She moaned.
”All over my fingers? Or my mouth.”
She opened her eyes to look at me and licked her lips. She liked the idea of me using my tongue to bring her to release.
I moved to sit her on the couch and went on my knees in front of her. I pushed her dress above her hips, and her skin-colored panties were as sexy as her bra. I pulled the lacy underwear down her long legs and over her high heels.
I watched her, waiting to see if she wanted me to stop. ”Is this okay?”
Tears filled her eyes, and I stilled, my hands on her thighs. ”Hey, it”s fine. We can stop.”
”I don”t want you to.” Her voice was so low that I almost missed what she said.
”Yeah?” I dove in, sliding my nose up and down her slit. I began to use my fingers to find her g-spot, and while I did that, I began to lick her up. She tasted like good wine and sex…woman.
I felt my phone buzz in my jeans. It was on mute, and I ignored it. My band probably wanted me to come back and play. Well, I had priorities and making Grace Carta come trumped playing the guitar.
She was writhing, small cries emanating from her—the sexiest sounds I”d ever heard. She wasn”t pretending. She wasn”t acting. This was how she really felt. She was giving me that. I suckled her clitoris just as I found that soft spot on the front wall of her cunt, the one that made her shake. I focused my fingers on stroking her G-spot and suckling her clitoris. She was shivering, and her cries were getting louder. I slurped at her, loving her taste. Loving how wet she got, how she throbbed around my fingers, my tongue.
When she let go, I lifted my eyes to see her face. Flushed. Beautiful. She had her eyes on me as she came apart.
Holy fuck! Had anything ever felt this good? I so desperately wanted to get inside her, but this was not the time, even if it was the place. I kissed her pussy softly when she settled from her high.
I helped her get her panties back on. I stood her up and felt like a fucking god because her legs were shaky, and she leaned on me for support.
I kissed her lips gently. ”You okay?”
She nodded, and I saw the horror of what she”d done enter her eyes.
”No,” I murmured firmly. ”This was fun. It was sexy. It wasn”t wrong.”
I kissed her again. ”Now, I got to go play downstairs and while I do, I”ll have your taste in my mouth, your smell on my hands and my face.”
She whimpered. Oh, yeah, squeaky clean Grace Carta loved her some dirty talking.
”You stay till I”m done so we can talk?” And fuck. Hard! I couldn”t even remember the panty-less blonde who I”d been considering as an option for the night, but that was before I had a taste of Grace. Now all I wanted was to sink into her deep and fuck her brains out.