Mardi Gras (3 page)

24

Mardi Gras

As Ty bit into the sugary-sweet confection, he found himself thinking,
Hell, who
needs a meaningful relationship when you’ve got this—a super-hot woman ready for what
promises to be a fun night ahead.

That was when he realized he was chewing…paper.

Reaching into his mouth, he drew out a tiny slip of crumpled yellow paper. It said in sharp black letters,
Want to fuck?

His cock threatened to burst from behind his zipper at any second. He lifted his gaze to find the redhead back across the room, still handing out cake. Lowering his plate to the nearest table, he made a beeline for her.

As she bent to scoop up two more plates from the dessert table, he leaned in close behind her, letting his body graze hers from the waist down.

She flinched lightly, but didn’t move away—only straightened and turned to look over her shoulder.

“Yes,” he breathed low in her ear. “And I want to do it hard.” Maybe he shouldn’t have been a hundred percent certain
she’d
sent the note, but he was. He just knew—without a shred of doubt. He moved half an inch closer, so she’d feel his hard-on pressing into the crack of her ass.

Setting the plates back down, she turned, handily extricating herself from between him and the table, and grabbed his hand. “Follow me.” Just the touch of her fingers added to his heat as she led him across the floor, around a corner, and into the bathroom, currently candlelit. He shut the wooden door firmly behind him and spun to look at her.

Her eyes blazed with the same fire that burned hot in his veins, and her ample chest heaved slightly, begging for his touch. A pouty mouth painted with dark lipstick made her look all the more like a mysterious piece of forbidden fruit. And he was ready to take a bite.

25

Lacey Alexander

They stepped toward each other at the same time, moving into each other’s arms.

His settled around her waist and hers circled his neck. “What’s your name?” he asked, his mouth hovering an inch above hers.

She hesitated slightly, then licked her upper lip. “Mina.”

“Nice to meet you, Mina. I’m Ty,” he said, then lowered a kiss onto that dark, sexy mouth.

She responded with eager pressure, hungry and willing, just the way he wanted her. She tasted sweet, like the cake he’d just eaten, as he eased his tongue between her lips. Her breasts pressed firm against his chest and his cock molded perfectly with the indented slit he could feel beneath her skirt.

Her skin was warm to the touch, and her movements against him filled him with longing. Damn, he couldn’t remember a time when he’d gotten this hot this fast. He’d wanted her badly enough before, back out in the crowded room, but his desire had skyrocketed since stepping behind a closed door with her.

Her tongue circled his in kisses that grew slower, but more heated. He could hear them both breathing heavily as his hands roamed her back and she ran her fingers through his hair. When he drew one hand around to her breast, it was like heaven and sin colliding in the palm of his hand. The feel of her lush flesh, even through her blouse and bra, made him thrust at the soft spot between her thighs, the move almost involuntary.

She moaned when he raked his thumb across the hardened nipple he could feel through the thin blouse and the lace underneath.

“Want your breast in my mouth,” he breathed as her lips left his, venturing downward. He leaned his head back as she rained kisses across his neck and onto the top of his chest through the “v” in his shirt.

“Mmm, I want my
pussy
in your mouth,” she purred between kisses.

He groaned. What a dirty girl. He was wild about her already.

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Mardi Gras

When she raised her gaze, drawing her splayed fingers down his chest, he reached to take off her mask. He wasn’t sure why—he hadn’t even planned it. He guessed he just wanted to see her better—this hot, sexy woman who was kissing him senseless. He wanted to see who he was about to fuck.

Biting her lip, she stopped him, holding the mask in place. “No.” He didn’t argue. Instead he went for the next best thing, the button between her breasts. Flicking it open and reaching inside, he curved his fingers around the lace cup of her dangerously low-cut bra.

She let out a sexy sigh at his light, sensual kneading, but quickly pulled his hand away, grabbing both of his wrists to keep him from going further. “No,” she said, firmer this time.

He didn’t know what to think. Even as she held his wrists at his sides, he leaned down to rake a hot kiss across her lush mouth. “I thought you wanted me to fuck you,” he said, his voice coming out raspy. “Did I do something wrong?” She shook her head, her eyes just as passion-filled as before. “But I don’t want to hurry, baby. I want to make the pleasure
last
.” Something about the way she said it heightened his lust, straining his zipper even more than it already was. He leaned his forehead against hers, delivering one, two more small kisses designed to entice. “What did you have in mind?” She let go of his wrists and flashed a hint of a sexy smile. “Follow me.” She was already reaching around him for the doorknob when he grinned and said,

“Didn’t we already do this part?”

“This was just warm-up, lover,” she said in that husky voice that made him lust harder. Opening the door, she glanced over her shoulder at him, that sexy, concealing mask still framing her eyes with dark glitter. “For what I want to do to you, you’ll have to take your chances and see where I lead you. Are you coming?” 27

Lacey Alexander

Placing his hands on her shoulders, he leaned down to whisper in her ear as a guy moved past them into the newly vacated bathroom. “You haven’t made me come just yet, but I have a feeling you will.”

He felt the words travel through her in the sexy stretch of her shoulders, the forward thrust of her breasts.

“I’ll go wherever you want me to, honey,” he added. “Just lead the way.”

* * * * *

Mia’s skin tingled with heat by the time she led Ty up Bourbon Street toward her aunt’s apartment. The mood outside only added to her excitement. People milled about, girls were still flashing for beads, and a party atmosphere permeated the warmer-than-average February night.

She was still quaking over the name she’d told him—Mina. She’d feared she’d given herself away even as it left her lips, but he’d seemed to accept it without thought.

Thank God she’d never told him Mia was short for Mina, which was short for Wilhelmina—a great-grandmother on her father’s side. Apparently, Tim had never had occasion to mention that little bit of trivia to Ty, either, for which she was now eternally grateful.

She’d also nearly fainted when he’d tried to take off her mask. Thank goodness he hadn’t persisted. Everything depended on keeping her sexy mask
on
, and her face

hidden.

She didn’t look back at him as she walked—she didn’t dare. She was too amazed that this was really happening, really working. She’d been confident, but maybe she hadn’t been truly
prepared
for how it would feel to have his hands on her, his mouth on hers. To finally kiss the much-lusted-after Ty had been at once magical and the most natural thing on earth. He kissed exactly like she’d imagined, with a soft, insistent heat and a slow urgency that could drive a woman insane. She’d almost thought she could 28

Mardi Gras

come just from kissing him. And when his perfect and delightfully large hard-on had pressed into her—mmm, her cunt had nearly melted from the flames he’d ignited there.

Now her anxious pussy hummed with desire. But she had a long way to go before she’d actually have him, his cock, inside her. She had plans for her man. Plans for an evening he’d always remember.

29

Lacey Alexander

She drew him across the street and through a group of twenty-something guys, aware they were staring, aware that her blouse remained unbuttoned past her bra. She decided she must be an even naughtier girl than she realized, since she didn’t mind being displayed for them, didn’t mind that it was probably very clear she was about to seduce the man following behind her.

Leading Ty through a wrought iron gate, she climbed the stairs to Aunt Sophie’s second-floor apartment. She couldn’t help wondering if her ass was in his face with each step she took, and if perhaps he was tempted to reach out and push up her skirt, and go after her right here and now. If he did, she wasn’t sure she’d have the will to stop him.

But you have to stick to your plan
, she reminded herself.
If you want to give him a night
to remember, you have to take it slow and do it right—get him where you want him. Get him
where he wants to be, too.

When they arrived on the landing, she reached into her bra, sliding her fingers across the soft lower curve of her left breast, and pulled out the key.

Raising her gaze, she found he’d been watching.

“That’s damn sexy,” he said in a low, pointed tone.

She replied in her super-sophisticated voice. “I like to travel light.” He grinned, his eyes all fire and anticipation.

When she unlocked the door and pushed it open, she didn’t reach for the light switch, instead letting the glow shining through the front windows guide them through the apartment.

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Mardi Gras

Only when she stepped into what Aunt Sophie referred to as her front parlor, just off the balcony, did she turn on a lamp—one operated by a dimmer switch. She kept it low, both to protect her true identity and create a seductive mood.

Next, she walked to the French doors that led onto the balcony. As much as she wanted to be alone with Ty, she also regretted having to leave the infectious decadence of Mardi Gras behind. On impulse, she opened the doors wide, admitting the sounds of music—snippets of Dixieland, jazz, and Zydeco all emanating up from the street below.

With it came the vague static of voices, laughter, and the wafting aromas of sweet pralines and any number of spicy Cajun delicacies. It all drifted inside, seeming to inhabit the room with them.

She’d dropped by the apartment on the way home from work yesterday to situate everything just the way she wanted it. Turning to see the kitchen chair she’d placed in the middle of the parlor floor reminded her that—with her passion already at a fever pitch—she’d best put her strategy into play before he grabbed her and started kissing her and the whole plan was forgotten.

“Sit down,” she said. Not too harsh or bossy. Just a request.

He moved toward the sofa that rested against one wall.

“No. There.” She pointed to the wooden chair.

He lifted his gaze. Grinned slightly, uncertainly. “Uh, why?” She returned a small, pointed smile. “Just do it, lover.” He tilted his head in speculation, as if maybe he was tuning in to the idea that she was about to fulfill his private desires—then he moved toward the chair and took a seat.

Of course, the way he was looking at her now made her simply want to leap on him and decide
Screw the plan
, so she had to work to stay calm in order to go on. Still, her thighs ached and her cunt pulsed with need. Even her arms and hands felt heavy, hungry. Pure want soaked her entire body in a way she’d never quite experienced before.

31

Lacey Alexander

“What now, baby?” he asked in the sexiest, raspiest voice she’d ever heard leave his mouth.

This is what it’s like to be his lover
, she thought.

But, no—that hot anticipation leaking from his eyes was only the
beginning
of being his lover, the before part.

She felt herself taking steps toward him, her shoes clicking across the polished hardwood without her consciously deciding to go. Suddenly, he was like a magnet to her. Reaching him, she boldly lifted one leg across his lap, her skirt rising nearly to her hips as she straddled him.

His hands came to rest low on her outer thighs, skimming quickly upward, past the lace tops of her stockings, under her skirt, onto the thin elastic strap of her panties. A low growl left him and her entire body pulsed, heavy as the beat of a drum. Her pussy pressed against the delectable length of his cock through his jeans, setting off waves of pleasure that felt like tendrils stretching out through her cunt.
No,
this
is what it’s like to
be his lover.
Or it was getting damn close, anyway.

“Kiss me,” she said feverishly.

Their tongues met at the precise second their lips did, in a warm, sensuous connection that felt natural and right, the sensation melting through her like ice cream left out in the hot Louisiana sun.

She never made the conscious decision to begin unbuttoning his shirt, but the buttons slipped free beneath her fingers, one by one. His hands left her hips, then grazed her sensitive breasts as he worked at her buttons, too. Each kiss grew more intoxicating until she was finally pushing his shirt from his shoulders, running her hands over the muscles there, splaying her fingers across the broad, sexy expanse of his chest.

He shrugged out of the shirt before finally undoing the last button on her blouse and urging it off her shoulders as well. She didn’t bother taking it off completely, letting the sheer gauzy fabric fall about her upper arms in a way that felt lightly—deliciously—

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Mardi Gras

binding when she moved. Besides, it was too much trouble to pull her hands away from his finely sculpted body, half of it now bared for her.

His kisses trailed from her mouth over her jaw, onto her neck. She arched against him, pressing her hungry cunt harder into his erection, leaning her head back to welcome his barrage of kisses. His mouth soon sank to her chest, the upper swell of her breast. Her pussy tingled and her pulse raced.

His hands found the two sensitive mounds of flesh just below, lightly cupping the outer curves as he brushed his thumbs across her lace-covered nipples. A slight whimper escaped her as his kisses spanned the valley between, then traveled up onto the other rise. Her breasts had never felt so sensitive, like a gift she wanted to give her man.

He dropped his touch back to her hips, her ass, helping her, because without quite realizing it, at some point she’d begun to move against him, grinding against the irresistible column of stone beneath his jeans. Oh God, at this rate, she would come soon, before the action even really got underway, which she didn’t want—but how could she resist?

Her body was in charge now, writhing against him of its own volition.

He nipped at the hard peak of her breast through the lace that barely covered it, and she cried out. The delectable sensation shot straight to her pussy and nearly pushed her over the edge. She moved harder against him, wanting more, more.

His palms roamed her body oh-so lightly, his touch at once a tease and the most wonderful stimulation. She heard herself panting—him, too—and looked into his eyes to find the same fire as before, only burning hotter now. “You’re so sexy, baby,” he murmured. “So fucking sexy.”

He framed her face with his hands and drew her in for a deep kiss that reached all the way to her soul, just as he slipped his fingers beneath her mask and began to remove it over her head.

She pulled it back into place, yanking his fingers away. “No,” she snapped.

33

Lacey Alexander

It killed her mounting pleasure, and the orgasm that had felt so near… But that was actually
good
, despite the frustration roaring through her body. Because she’d clearly forgotten her plan, gotten off track.

Time to get back on.

“Why?” he asked. “I want to see you. I want to see your face, Mina.” She shook her head, and then—as painful as it was—extracted herself from his lap.

The move racked her body with loss, but that, too, was worth it, since his attempt to remove her mask was a wake-up call. No more letting her own desire get the best of her. Time to take control. Completely.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, rising to his feet.

She pressed her palm to the center of his chest and pushed him back down. “Sit.”

“What?” he murmured, looking confused.

“You’ve been a bad boy,” she said, moving to the shopping bag she’d placed just a few feet away on her previous visit to the apartment. She pulled out one length of the heavy white rope she’d purchased and walked behind his chair. “Give me your wrists.” He cast a brief glance over his shoulder, clearly surprised, but then his expression softened as he shifted his arms behind him, through the lowest opening on the ladder-back chair.

Mia drew in a deep breath as she placed his wrists one over the other, then began to tie him up. She purposely avoided tying him to the chair, wanting him bound but still able to move around at her will. A dart of dark pleasure pierced her chest as she wrapped the rope, tightly, over and under, wondering if it was biting into his skin, wondering if he was enjoying that.

Even after her initial delight at hearing Ty and Jack’s conversation in the office earlier in the week, she’d never truly expected to derive any deep thrill from taking on the role of dominatrix, but already, she could tell she’d been wrong. She liked tying him 34

Mardi Gras

with the rope far too much, each twist of it around his wrists filling her with a sense of forbidden heat.

When she’d knotted the rope and walked back around in front of him, his expression hovered somewhere between aroused and amused. “You know I can’t touch you like this?”

Yes, she knew. A sacrifice, but one worth making. “That’s all right.” Then an idea hit her, a slight amendment to the plan. “Maybe I…should do it for you.” With that, she walked to the stereo system and pushed the play button to start a CD

she’d brought over the day before. The speakers boomed with a super-sexy song that always got her hot. Above a slow, throbbing rock beat, the singer urged a woman to be his lover, promising to show her his dark secret.

Mia had never stripped before, and even with the plethora of men’s clubs to be found just a couple of blocks away, had never seen a stripper perform live. But she was going to try to be one now, for Ty, and she was already so excited that her arousal squelched any fear.

Turning away from him, she began to sway her hips sensually back and forth with the driving rhythm. Then she arched, leaning her shoulders back to let her transparent blouse slide from her arms and drop silently to the floor.

Revolving, she rested against the wall, one knee bent, her arms stretched up over her head. Slowly, she drew her hands down, letting them skim sensuously over the round globes of her breasts, the flat plane of her bare stomach, then she splayed her fingers as both hands pushed down her thighs.

“Damn, that’s hot, baby,” he said, sounding totally spellbound.

Curling her fingers around the hem of her skirt, she met his gaze as she playfully lifted the fabric inch by teasing inch.

“Oh yeah. That’s nice. Keep going.”

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Lacey Alexander

When the skirt rose past her lace stockings, she eased her fingers onto the flesh of her thighs, beneath the tight black garters. Gliding her fingertips upward, she lifted the skirt to her hips. She heard Ty sigh at the sight of her mound, which had gone swollen and achy now. It was a pleasure for both of them when she slipped her middle finger between her legs for one slow upward stroke over her panties. She felt it deep inside, especially when Ty purred, “Mmm, yeah.”

Reaching behind her as she resumed her slow sway to the sexy song, she unzipped the black mini and used both hands to push it down, down, until it loosened at mid-thigh and dropped to the floor. She stepped carefully free of it, very aware of how she looked now, wearing only sexy black lingerie, ultra-high-heeled shoes, and her feathered, glittery mask.

“Stand up,” she said.

He rose to his feet, looking all-too-good in nothing but those pleasantly snug jeans, his hands tied behind his back. But he was about to look even better.

Stepping up to him, Mia ran her hands down his hard, muscular flesh, from shoulder to waist, where she folded the fingertips of both hands into his jeans. Sliding them to the center, she met an astonishingly hard obstacle that made her go weak.

“Mmm,” she said, unbuttoning the jeans, then slowly easing down the zipper. “You’re so big for me.”

Reaching into the open fly, she ran her palm up his erection.

He leaned his head back with a long, sexy sigh. “Aw, you’re killing me here, honey.”

She grinned up at him. “Good. Nothing like a little torture to set the mood.” They exchanged feral looks and he bent down to sweep a hungry kiss across her mouth as she squeezed and caressed his cock through his briefs. She was awed by how large he felt and it only added to her excitement.

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Mardi Gras

Moving around behind him, she hooked her thumbs into his jeans and underwear and dragged them down to his knees. She nearly shuddered at the sight of his tight, round ass, his wrists roped just above it.

As he kicked off his shoes and began maneuvering out of the denim, she ran her hands around him from behind, caressing his hard chest, his hips, the tops of his thighs—everything but the cock itself.

He leaned his head back in frustration. “Please, baby.”

“That’s right, lover. I want to hear you beg. Beg me.” He hesitated a moment, letting out a small growl, then said, “Please—touch me,” adding, “Come on, honey. Do it.”

She withdrew her hands.

“What?” he asked, clearly disturbed.

“That sounded more like a demand than begging.” She purposely sounded miffed.

By the time he spun to face her, she’d returned from another trip to her shopping bag, from which she’d retrieved a black leather riding crop. She stood sternly slapping it into the palm of her free hand as she gave him a look meant to quell any arguments.