Double Jeopardy (2 page)

Chloe had done what she’d had to do to
survive. She wasn’t proud of it. But she’d survived. She had to
have food. And she needed to get to the city to find a job. So when
those faceless men fucked her, she went away inside a secret place
in her mind and thought of the times she’d had it all, and she
vowed to herself that she’d one day have it all again.

And then finally she fucked the right man and
he dropped her right at Lucien Deveraux’s front walk. Lucien had
answered the door himself. He’d looked her over, his face never
betraying his thoughts. Her clothes had been dirty, her hair
unwashed and another man’s seed ran down her leg, but she held her
head high and looked at him defiantly as she asked for work.

He’d let her in the front door, which had
stunned Chloe into speechlessness. He’d told her he had no need for
a butler and only felt it necessary to have one full-time maid and
a cook, though he did have part-time help—another maid who would
come in three days a week to help out, and a gardener who was quite
territorial. He had no need for an excess of servants, and he like
his privacy, which knowing what she did now, Chloe could understand
completely.

Lucien Deveraux had given her clothes and
food and a place to sleep, and all he’d asked in return was her
honesty and discretion. She owed him for giving her a life. If not
the life she’d had before.

She fastened the white crocheted cloche cap
to her head and looked at herself one last time before heading out
of her quarters to begin the day’s work.

Chloe served Lucien’s breakfast in the
library at precisely the same time every morning. He always had one
egg over-easy, two pieces of toast, a small glass of freshly
squeezed orange juice and a full carafe of coffee. His requests
never varied.

She knocked twice on the outer door of the
library and waited for the summons to enter. He never made her wait
very long, but he was oftentimes distracted by his work and forgot
she had asked to enter. She always hated it when his breakfast was
cold because he’d lecture about how important it was to be prompt,
looking straight at her with clear, crystal blue eyes, while she
fantasized of him lifting her skirts and taking her over the desk.
But he’d never shown interest in her that way, and she now
understood why.

Chloe breathed a sigh of relief when she
heard the command to enter. She closed the door behind her gently
and set the tray on the corner of his desk, away from the
scattering of papers he was focused on.

“Thank you, Chloe,” Lucien said.

“You’re welcome, sir.” She ducked her head
and made her way back to the door.

“Just a moment please. I have a few things I
wish to speak to you about.”

Chloe stopped and turned to face her master.
He’d left the papers on his desk and was now standing behind it. He
crooked his finger, and she walked back toward him slowly, her mind
racing at what she possibly could have done to draw his
attention.

“I’m sorry, sir. Is something the
matter?”

“No, not at all, Chloe. You’re doing a fine
job for me. How long have you been in my service?”

“Just more than a year, sir.”

“Yet I never see you venture out very far
from the house other than for your daily walks. This is a city of
pleasure and vices. Surely you could find something that suits your
particular tastes. Do you have no man to court you? “

Chloe was confused. Not once in the year
she’d worked for him had he ever taken the time to ask about her
personal life.

“No sir. I am a widow.”

“But you are still a young woman,” he said
unaffected by her statement. “You must move on with your life.”

“Are you dismissing me, sir?”

He sighed impatiently. “Of course not, Chloe.
But I get the feeling you are hiding from something. You are a
stunning woman. You have the bones of royalty and the manners of a
duchess. Not qualities often found in a maid.”

Chloe said nothing and stood completely
still. Had Lucien found out about her husband’s dealings? She’d
always carried a small amount of fear that the men who had killed
her husband and destroyed her home would search for her. That they
would seek her out and do away with loose ends—meaning her. She’d
seen all their faces. Memorized them and replayed them over and
over again in her memory of that terrible day. She’d seen a few of
those same faces on her walks through the city, some dressed in
plain clothes, others dressed in police uniforms. Thoughts of
vengeance filled her head, but she knew she was powerless to
fulfill the need.

He continued to look at her, waiting for her
to break the silence, but she never did.

“Come here, Chloe,” he finally said.

She took a few tentative steps forward until
she stood directly in front of him, her head lowered, looking at
the scuffed tips of her shoes. He tipped her chin up with his
finger so she had no choice but to look at him.

“Have I been a good employer, Chloe?”

“Oh, yes sir,” she said, nodding her
head.

“And have you enjoyed your time here?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You are a loyal servant, Chloe. I appreciate
that. And I feel comfortable knowing that my secrets are safe with
you.”

Chloe felt the blush start at her neck and
work its way up to her cheeks. She thought of what she’d witnessed
the day before and wondered if others knew of Lucien Deveraux’s
preference for men. Would it hurt his position in New Orleans
society if they did? What he’d said about New Orleans being a city
of vices was true. Society probably wouldn’t give his sexuality a
thought, just as they didn’t give his warehouses filled with
barrels of whiskey a thought.

Lucien gave her a long hard look and took her
hand. “I can never repay you for your loyalty. It is not a quality
that can be bought. Only earned.”

His hand brushed softly over her cheek and
she closed her eyes. It had been so long since she’d felt the touch
of a man—calloused fingers that could be gentle and caressing or
hard enough to bruise. She leaned into him, her nipples rubbing
torturously against the rough material of her dress, abrading them
until they stood at stiff peaks.

“I have watched you for more than a year,
Chloe,” he said. “Wanted you.”

Her eyes widened at this news. She’d never
known. Never even had an inkling. Part of her was skeptical. The
other part of her remembered what it was like to be a seventeen
year-old bride and have a man who wanted her, a man who desired
her.

She didn’t care what his reasons were. What
his motives were. She was not so naïve to think he might be
seducing her only to make sure she knew where her loyalties lie.
She had slept with men for worse reasons.

Her breath caught as he bent his head toward
her lips. He traced the fullness of her bottom lip with the tip of
his tongue and nipped gently at the corner. Chloe couldn’t contain
the moan that escaped her lips. Her body was rioting with different
sensations. His calloused fingers trailed over her stockings and
garters, causing her pussy to flood with her juices. His lips and
tongue possessed her, invaded her. She could smell her desire and
taste his need. His heart pounded against her chest and she had the
sudden urge to touch him all over.

She tore at his clothes like a wild woman,
like a desperate woman. The buttons on his shirt flew across the
room and the sound of fabric tearing was music to her ears. Her
hands were frantic as she raced to feel skin against skin. The
grunts coming from her throat were more animal than human as she
opened his trousers and freed his cock. It was long and thick, a
thatch of golden hair at its base. She wrapped her fist around him
and squeezed, wanting nothing more than to lick the tip where a
tiny bead of come had gathered.

“My God, Chloe. You are a temptress like no
other,” Lucien said as he tore her dress and slip down the middle
so her naked flesh was bared before him.

Her breasts were full and aching, her clit
throbbing in anticipation. “I need you, Lucien,” she panted
wildly.

He pushed her back toward the desk and she
shrugged out of her tattered clothes. Her bottom hit the edge and
he lifted her so she sat atop its surface.

“I’m going to fuck you Chloe. Is that what
you want?”

“Yessss,” she purred. She loved the
anticipation, the wanting, the needing. It was the steps that led
up to sex she’d missed most.

He pushed her back against the desk, and she
shivered as he took her wrists in his hand and lifted them over her
head. He squeezed them hard, so she was left powerless and bare
under his scrutiny. He used his other hand to tweak her nipples.
First one and then the other.

“Let’s see if you taste as good as you look,”
he growled and then clamped his mouth over her nipple, swirling his
tongue around the tiny nub and then suckling.

She arched under the pleasure, her arms
straining against the hold he had on them. She writhed and clamped
her legs around his waist, forcing him closer to her open slit.

“You’re desperate for my cock, aren’t
you?”

She remembered he’d asked his lover a similar
question.

“Yes, give it to me.”

He kept the vise around her wrists and moved
over her, the course hair on his chest rubbing sinfully against her
sensitive nipples. He ran the length of his cock over her pussy,
teasing her, barely stretching her with his tip before withdrawing
and starting the whole process over again.

She whimpered in frustration, finally opening
her eyes to plead with him. He was staring straight at her, the
look of possession in his eyes so overwhelming that it sent chills
over her body. She had a brief moment to wonder if she was making a
terrible mistake before he plunged his full length into her,
sending her into an orgasm that started deep in her belly and
overtook her whole body. Her clit pulsed and her womb spasmed, but
it still wasn’t enough. She had a year to make up for and her body
wasn’t finished yet.

He released her wrists as he continued to
fuck her and she wrapped her arms around him as she came again,
raking her nails down his back from the force of the climax.

“Again,” he murmured, unwrapping her legs
from around his waist and putting them over his shoulders. His cock
continued to piston in and out of her, but he was going deeper, as
far as her womb would allow. He circled his thumb around the nub
peeking out of her folds.

“God, yes!” Chloe screamed in pleasure at the
duel assault, and she couldn’t control the inevitable outcome. A
third orgasm shook her body. Lucien’s own cry of release echoed
throughout the room as his hot seed pulsed against her inner
walls.

Chapter Three

Chloe was sore.

It had been three weeks since Lucien had
first taken her in the library. Three weeks since she’d thought her
fantasies had come true. Lucien had an insatiable appetite that
often left Chloe too tired to fulfill her duties. But she had to do
them anyway.

He’d ruined many of her dresses in his
fervor, and he’d had to replace her work clothes. He’d also asked
her to stop wearing bloomers. His lust was wild. He’d fucked her on
the stairs while she’d been trying to dust the banister. He’d taken
her in the garden on the cold, damp earth during her lunch hour.
One afternoon he’d followed her into town as she did the weekly
grocery shopping and carried her into an empty alley, forcing her
to her knees so she could fuck him with her mouth like a common
prostitute.

And then there was the most mortifying
occurrence of all. He’d bent her over and fucked her in the kitchen
over the butcher block island while the cook prepared his
breakfast. She’d been dry, but the pain was its own aphrodisiac.
The cook had blushed and kept her back turned to the moans and
slaps of flesh, but Chloe had been too far gone to care that there
was someone else in the room. After he’d spilled his seed into her,
he’d left the kitchen while she’d still been sprawled over the
island, her skirt around her waist and his come running down her
legs. She’d been embarrassed beyond belief and the cook had packed
her things right then and quit.

But no matter what he did or where he did it,
Chloe came at each of the encounters and was left wanting more.

But Lucien’s lust wasn’t only for her, and
her lust was not only for him. He still met with his lover several
nights a week. She’d found out that the stranger came in using the
same passageways that they used to smuggle the alcohol and he left
the same way. She’d only seen him a handful of times at the house
in a legitimate capacity, both he and Lucien keeping their sordid
secret and neither of them giving signs to their intimacy unless
one looked closely. And she always looked closely, because it was
Lucien’s male lover that she imagined whenever Lucien’s cock was
inside her.

She watched them again and again through the
same hole in the wall as the first time she’d caught them, and
she’d once heard Lucien call the man Antoine as he spilled his seed
inside of him. And each time they were together, Antoine’s gaze
would be fixed on the wall as if he could see exactly where she
stood. She no longer knew what to do. Her body was being satisfied
as she’d finally dreamed, but her soul was withering away with
thoughts of another man.

Chloe sighed and closed her eyes as she
washed Lucien’s come from her breasts. She’d have to think of
something soon because her body couldn’t take much more.

Antoine Rousseau savored the smooth taste of
whiskey as it slid down his throat. Lucien provided the best
spirits in New Orleans, but it was his job to make sure the rest of
the world was able to appreciate it. Money paved the way for many
things. Men and women could be bought, police could be bought and
the government could be bought. He’d found out first hand that
money and power went hand in hand, and whoever had the most money
was the one calling the shots. And Lucien Deveraux always called
the shots.