Chapter 6 #2
“Yes,” was all Tara managed to whisper. I pulled her panties aside. She pressed her forehead to my chest and rocked her hips.
That was all the encouragement I needed. I slid my middle finger inside of her and she gasped. My index found her clit and I circled slowly.
Just like that her inner muscles were clenching around my finger. Tara fisted my shirt, writhing in my lap until the wave of pleasure receded again. I was pretty confident in my ability to please a woman, but that was quick, even for me.
Tara tilted her head up to give me a shy look as I slowly slid her clothes back into place.
I tried to keep my features relaxed, my smile easy, but inside I felt like a cat rolling in catnip.
Every inhale of her scent had me losing my grip a little more, and I was worried I would go mad and take her right here on the side of the road.
“Oh. My. God.” Tara was the color of a hibiscus flower, her blue eyes glued to my mouth as it curved. “This kind of thing doesn’t happen in real life.”
“It just did. Unless you want me to pinch you to make sure I’m not a dream.” I gave her hip a playful pinch.
“Who are you?”
“Isaac Barbeaux.” Instead of offering her a hand, I decided on a more intimate introduction. I kissed her lower lip, sucking it gently into my mouth before releasing her and saying, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Isaac Barbeaux,” she murmured, and I felt a surge of pride by how awestruck her tone was. Some of the color left her cheeks, and she scrunched her face up. “Your last name is Barbeaux?”
My jaw tightened. She didn’t remember.
Good thing I made our second meeting unforgettable. I wanted to be on her mind long after I was gone.
“Last time I checked.”
“Like the men in the pictures at Celine’s place?”
Those damn pictures. It was like she wanted to out us.
“Half this place used to be the Barbeaux homestead. The bayou is named after us.” And the whole town would’ve been too, if my father had sold before O’Henry did. But we had no interest in leaving, no matter how hard life was on the coast. The Barbeaux name didn’t need any more attention.
I swallowed, steering the topic back to safe and impersonal territory. “Now, generally when someone introduces themselves, it’s polite to do the same.”
I knew her name. Every personal detail she shared with me was lodged in my brain, despite the drinks. I just needed to distract her curiosity.
Her blush returned, and she chewed the corner of her lip. “You remember my name.”
“Do I?”
Tara scowled. “Tara Delaine. Or have there already been so many women since me that you can’t tell us apart?”
“Jealous?” I smirked.
“Couldn’t care less.”
“You wound me.” I slapped a hand over my heart.
“You like the pain.”
“A little pain can be fun.” I took her chin in my hands. “I’m going to kiss you now, Tara Delaine.”
What are you doing? I didn’t kiss women, outside the bedroom. Kissing gave them the wrong idea. Kissing was too personal.
I was compelled, unable to rein myself in. The closer my mouth was to hers, the less control I had over my body.
She didn’t protest as my lips brushed hers. Her mouth tasted like all the sweetness of summer, contrasting with the bitter wind coming off the bay. My head swam, that drunk feeling from the other night settling over me and making my body heavy.
I needed to stop. To dump her wherever she was staying and get the hell out of here. This wasn’t the routine, and veering away from it felt like utter chaos.
My heart pounded. Sweat cooled on my neck.
Deep inside me, the beast was unnervingly silent.
It was late afternoon by the time Tara climbed behind me and gave me directions back to her rental. Our lips were swollen and the smell of her was all over me, making my head swim.
I told myself it was just the newness of this, my painful boredom driving me to step outside the boundaries of my regular life.
I stifled a laugh when I pulled my motorcycle under the legs of Tara’s rental house. What were the odds that she was staying at one of my properties?
Tara was trembling behind me, her breathing uneven. I dislodged her fisted hands from my leather jacket, twisting to smile at her.
“Remind me never to wear a skirt on a motorcycle again.”
I caught her as she dismounted, hauling her into my lap and caressing her exposed calf. “I don’t know, it seems like you enjoyed it.”
Unlike the last time, she didn’t melt into my arms. Tara went rigid, readjusting her skirt as she climbed calmly and gracefully from my reach.
“Thank you for the ride.” She dipped her chin, not meeting my gaze. “And everything else.”
“But?”
“But you’re a ‘hit it and quit it’ kind of guy and I’m a recovering commitment addict, so this is goodbye.”
I stood to my full height. Tara was backpedaling, her body already pulling away from me.
I closed the space between us. “Is that why you ran from me?”
An artist could make something beautiful with the many shades of pink that colored her cheeks. Under the light of the stars she was so confident and forward. Here under the sun, she withered.
Moonflower.
Or maybe not. Tara squared her shoulders, gaze challenging as she told me, “I ran because you wanted to own me. I don’t belong to anyone but myself.”
I traced her jaw with my fingers, admiring the perfect diamond shape. “I don’t need to own you,” I whispered, edging even closer. “I just want to borrow you for one more night.”
“I don’t think I should say yes.”
“You didn’t have any objections when I rescued you earlier.” My words were smooth, but internally I felt shaken.
I never pursued a woman like this. If she said no, it meant no. I was fine with that. There was the thrill of the hunt and then there was degrading yourself. No self-respecting man should beg a woman for anything.
Tara laughed, somehow reading the tension below the surface. “Not used to a woman who doesn’t prostrate herself for you?”
I clenched my fists, sucking in a harsh breath at the mental image of her prostrate for me.
“Fine. I see you have a lot on your plate and the last thing you need is something totally uncomplicated to take your mind off your troubles.”
She was closer too, feeding off my agitated energy. Her chest rose faster, pupils dilated. “I can’t just let you into my house. What if you’re a murderer?”
“I’m unarmed. You can do a strip search if you want.”
“You’re built like a marine. If you blew on me too hard, I’d probably fall over and break an ankle.”
I wrapped an arm around her lower back, tugging her to me until our mouths were inches apart. “Tell me to leave, and I won’t fight you.” I dipped my head to the base of her ear, nibbling gently and saying, “Or tell me to lick your cunt into oblivion. You get to choose.”
“This is such a bad idea.” Even as she said it, she was taking my hand, leading me up the steps and to the front door.
This is such a bad idea, I echoed to myself.
I never came back for seconds.
Never let myself get carried away.
Bad things happened when a monster like me lost control, even for a moment.
But it was too late. I had already lost the battle, the control I prided myself on slipping as I closed the door behind us.