Cajun Spice (7 page)

Juice from a strawberry dripped onto her skin, making the inner walls of her pussy clench with need. Marc took his time lapping and sucking, rubbing the ripe fruit over her skin then licking it off with slow swipes of his tongue.

“Don’t move,
chere,”
he told her, as he continued to feast on her. “I’m havin’ my appetizer.”

She tried to twist her hips and arch them up to him in silent plea, but her spicy Cajun was determined to take his time, no matter how crazy he drove her. Or maybe because of it. He set up a pattern—the dribble of juice, the swipe of his tongue, the hum of satisfaction. Soon she was cocooned by the routine, the nerves in her body firing, her internal muscles clenching, her pussy so needy. Marc pushed her to a plane of sensuality then kept her there until all she could focus on was the feel of the juice and his tongue. When he moved his hands away from her, she protested.

“Just give me a sec, here.” His voice was richer, deeper, as sexual hunger aroused him.

Despite what he said, Daisy opened her eyes and saw him shucking his clothes.

“Be right back.”

“What—?”

Beneath lowered lids she watched him walk into the bathroom, the muscles in his very fine ass flexing as he moved. When he returned, he was carrying a large bath towel. With an economy of movement, he slid it beneath her hips. He studied her, such fierce hunger in his eyes it made her insides tighten. Then he reached over to the serving table and lifted the bowl of chocolate syrup and a spoon.

“Ohmigod. Are you—?”

He nodded. “When I tell you I’m going to eat you, I really mean it,
chere.
”

He dribbled the thick sauce down the valley between her breasts before returning to paint her nipples with the sweet confection. She felt his tongue again, wet and hot against her skin. She clenched her fists to control herself as he slowly cleaned every bit of the syrup from her breasts then sucked the nipples one last time.

She wanted to tell him how badly she needed him inside her, but again he seemed determined to torture her, to go at his own pace. The line of syrup he dripped down to her navel and farther to the top of her mound was a thick, heated liquid caress. The walls of her pussy vibrated with need, convulsing with tremors as Marc again made a slow, methodical journey following the line of the syrup. She had the sensation of being cocooned in a cloud of heat, with tiny little vibrators attached to every sensitive point on her skin. Marc’s tongue was an instrument of the devil, erotically talented as he licked up every bit of the dark confection.

At the exact moment she was sure she would implode from the sensations battering her, he lifted her legs to rest on his shoulders and thrust two fingers inside her. That was all it took. As soon as he slid inside her, she detonated, the walls of her pussy clamping down and rippling again and again. The air was redolent with the scents of strawberries and chocolate and pure unadulterated sex.

Marc rode her through the climax, dragging his fingers across her sweet spot and murmuring softly to her in Cajun French. She was so hot, so wet, so sweet. The way her body responded to him created a savage need inside him that he hadn’t even known he had. He loved the way her cunt clamped around his fingers, and he couldn’t wait to feel it around his cock again. And her skin.
Dieu!
It turned such a sweet shade of pink when she was aroused, accented by the deep rose of her nipples and the glint of light on the two rows of neatly trimmed hair that accented her mound. He could bury himself inside her and stay there forever.

What the hell was this all about, anyway? Had she bewitched him? Marc Doucet was known as a passionate man who was always in control. With Daisy Karr, those threads frayed and snapped, and everything else disappeared. It had been totally out of character for him to suggest they continue to see each other in New York. He’d sworn for years he didn’t want the complication of a relationship in his life, but it seemed when one showed up—a
real
one—he didn’t have much choice. He’d just need to get this damn assignment over with and convince her they could move forward.

At last the tremors subsided, and Daisy lay panting, eyes closed, trying to regain some semblance of balance. Marc slid his fingers from her wet grasp, pausing to lick her delicious essence from them.
Dieu! It is better than any fine liquor I’ve ever had.
He watched as Daisy opened her eyes, her gaze slumberous, a satisfied look on her face. He moved over her, looking directly into her eyes, smiling at what he saw there.

“That feel good, darlin’?”

She choked out a little laugh. “Good doesn’t even describe it.” She reached up a hand and stroked his cheek. “But I want my turn at bat, too.”

He laughed, a low, rough sound. “I thought you just had it.”

“I mean a different kind of turn.” She patted the bed. “Get up here beside me.”

Marc wasn’t sure he could take much of her “turn.” He was already pushing the boundaries of his fraying control and his need to feel his cock inside her erotic wet heat. But he rolled over, legs dangling at the edge of the bed, and watched through heavy-lidded eyes as she pulled herself to her knees. The feel of her slim fingers around his dick make him suck in an involuntary breath. Jesus! She was going to kill him.

“Better be careful there,” he warned. “Eating you with strawberries and chocolate sauce took me right up there to the edge.”

“Is that so?” He heard the slight hint of mischief in her voice.

He held himself still as she studied his hot shaft, ran a fingertip over the dark purplish head and the pulsing vein that wrapped around his cock. When she lowered her head and licked up one side of it and down the other, he nearly came off the bed. He shuddered, and his balls drew up.

“Take it easy, darlin’.” His voice was raspy and uneven. “I’m already knockin’ on the door after tasting your luscious body all over.”

“I should get to take as much time as you did,” she teased.

He opened his eyes. “You get three minutes, and then I’m in charge again,” he warned.

“Then I’d better make good use of my time.”

She opened her mouth and took in as much of him as she could, sliding his thickness along her tongue and closing her lips around him. Very slowly she moved her lips up and down, her fingers still wrapped around his cock. With her other hand, she sought the sac between his thighs and rolled his balls in her fingers.

“Jesus!” Marc tunneled one hand into her hair and wrapped the silken strands around it. “Holy shit!”

Daisy hummed in satisfaction at his response before bending to her task again. She licked and sucked and played, closing her eyes and letting the taste and scent of him roll over her and invade every inch of her.

“I think you might taste a lot better with some chocolate sauce,” she teased.

Marc was done. He gripped her head, lifted her away, and rolled to a sitting position.

“Enough.” His voice was hoarse with tension. “I have to be inside you right this minute.”

He didn’t even take the time to rearrange them on the bed. He barely managed to sheath himself with a condom before he lifted her legs over his shoulders, placed the head of his cock at her opening, and drove inside her.

Oh god!

He had time for one rational thought before he took them both on the ride of their lives.

“Look at me,” he growled. “Look in my eyes, Daisy.”

She did, and he was lost in the deep hazel of her eyes, the tiny flecks of gold in the irises. He thrust into her over and over, the width of his shaft dragging sensuously along her inner muscles, the head bumping the mouth of her womb. Every one of her nerves was focused on their joining. Nothing else existed. He was pinned by her gaze, lost in the heat of it as he rode her and rode her and finally took them both over the edge of the cliff and into the valley of sensation.

With his arms wrapped around her, holding their shuddering bodies together, he pressed his mouth to hers and held it there until the thump of their heartbeats slowed and the intense shudders subsided. He thought he could stay there forever, her hot pussy tight around him, her breasts tempting him to take just one more taste. At last, he eased himself from her and padded to the bathroom to dispose of the condom.

When Marc walked back into the bedroom, he poured two glasses of champagne, put them on the nightstand, and then climbed into bed, pulling Daisy up beside him. Then picking up both flutes, he handed one to her.

“To an incredible Mardi Gras.” He touched his glass to hers.

“I’ll drink to that.” She smiled then took a sip of the bubbly liquid.

Marc set his glass down and pulled her against him. “I’m not sure we’re done with the strawberries and chocolate yet,
chere.
”

“And I think I need to catch my breath.” She grinned at him. “You know how to wear a girl out, that’s for sure. You weren’t kidding about Cajun spice.”

“We’ve got all night, darlin’. All night long.”

*****

Marc couldn’t remember a night in his life that was so erotic, so sensual and so fulfilling. He had no idea what would happen when they got back to New York. Daisy had been hesitant when he brought it up and maybe he’d been rushing things a little. After all, her situation was far from settled, at least as far as her connection to Craig Myers was concerned. And a seasoned agent like himself knew better than to get emotionally involved with a possible suspect. But if Daisy Karr was an embezzler, he was King Kong.

Eventually, exhausted, they fell asleep. Marc was dreaming about Daisy’s naked body when a jarring sound woke him up. Blinking himself awake, he realized it was his cell phone. He looked at the time on it. Two o’clock. Fuck! It had to be Larry. But calling him at this hour? Of course, his boss had no idea he was sleeping with the suspect he’d been sent to get close to. Fuck again.

The ringing stopped but, in a moment, it started again. He slid out of bed and headed out to the balcony, taking the phone with him. He made sure to close both the drapes and the door before he answered the call, and turned away so his voice wouldn’t carry.

“You do know what time it is, right?” he asked.

“If I’m awake, you can be, too,” Larry Choate told him. “I figured you would have dropped the suspect back at her room by now, anyway.”

If he only knew.

“I do have to sleep sometime,” he joked. “So, what’s up?”

“Our confidential informants have really come through for us. We’ve managed to track where most of the diamonds were bought and have a trace out for Myers from there. But some of the money is still unaccounted for. Plus, he wiped his computer when he took a powder. He did such a good job our techs are having a hard time finding the ghost files. We’re hoping little Miss Daisy Karr knows about it and can help us.”

“Yeah, about that.” Marc cleared his throat. “I think we’re barkin’ up the wrong tree here, boss.”

There was a long moment of silence. “Are you losing your focus on this assignment, Doucet?”

Marc ran his fingers through his hair. “Not at all. I’ve done exactly what I set out to do. But she doesn’t act like a woman involved in this scheme, talk like one, or even behave like one. Wherever he’s got the rest of the cash, however he’s physically moving it, she’s not part of the scheme.”

“I’m telling you, I think she might be able to tell us something,” Larry insisted.

“And I’m telling you she knows nothing.” He raked his fingers through his already mussed hair again. “I hinted around casually about her so-called fiancé. She told me he’s got some troubles that have nothing to do with her.”

Larry snorted. “Where have we heard that before?”

“Besides,” Marc went on, “he hasn’t called her once since she’s been here or made any effort to contact her. She’s not actin’ as if she’s expecting someone to show up or even as if she’s trying to lay down a false trail. And she certainly doesn’t act like someone who’s expecting to live the good life on other people’s money.”

“Maybe she’s a really good actress.”

“Not that good,” Marc assured him.

“You said the credit card she used at the hotel was declined. We ran the numbers, and it’s one they were both signers on.”

“That means nothing. If she was trying to lead us away from him or had any part in this, she wouldn’t use anything so blatant,” he pointed out. “And thanks for activating the card so she could use it.”

“I did it because it gives us another electronic trail.”

“You always remind me I have great instincts where people are concerned. Well, my instincts are saying loud and clear that she’s as much a victim as everyone else.”

“I’m not ready to give up yet. She might not even realize she knows something. Get her to talk about it some more. Use that Cajun charm on her.”

“Larry,” he began.

“That’s an order, Doucet. I want whatever you can get from her.”

Marc was silent for a long time, thinking. He could screw this up royally if he made a wrong move.

“Let me give it some thought,” he said at last. “But I want you to know I don’t feel good about this. Not even one little bit.”

“You don’t have to feel good. You just have to get the job done.”

There was a click, signaling the end of the conversation. Marc disconnected on his end and leaned on the balcony railing. What a fucking mess. What the hell did he do now? At some point, he’d have to come clean with Daisy, especially if he wanted to see her again. She’d have to know what kind of job he had. The important thing was to figure out how to tell her so she didn’t want to drive a stake through his heart.

“So, I was your ‘business’ in New Orleans?”

He’d been concentrating so hard on his dilemma he hadn’t heard the door slide open behind him. He spun around to see Daisy standing in the open doorway, a sheet wrapped around her naked body, a look of agony in her eyes. Her words cut into him like a sharp knife.

“Daisy—”

“You’re with the FBI, right?”

“Yes, but listen,” he began.

“No, you listen,” she snapped. “What were your orders, anyway? To romance me? Flatter me? Get into my head?” She swallowed. “My pants? And ferret out all of Craig Myers’ secrets I held?”