S.E.C.R.E.T.: An Erotic Novel (28 page)

“I hear you’re a bad, bad boy,” I whispered, in that same breathy voice I had used
on Jesse.

“You heard right,” he said. He hungrily took me in and then reached out for my waist,
as though I belonged to him. As my Prince Charming, when he had claimed me it was
part of the role, the fantasy. But his grasp now felt brutish, unkind.

Angela stepped in and scolded him. “Ah, ah, ah. She’s not yours, mister. Remember
that.”

All eyes were on me, even though the other girls had reassembled in a line and were
tapping out a goofy number on their way back to the stage. I broke the spell by turning
around. With my back to Pierre, I did a little burlesque wiggle, curling my body like
smoke in front of him for the edification of the audience. Finally, the spotlight
moved away from us and back to the action onstage, giving Pierre the opportunity to
gather the strings of my bodice as though he had me on a leash. With a yank, he tugged
me backwards to him, his mouth hovering at my ear.

“I thought I’d never see you again, Cassie.”

My eyes shot open behind my mask. “How—?”

“Your bracelet. I recognized my charm.”

“You mean
my
charm,” I said.

“I like you better as a brunette,” he said.

I turned around quickly. My breasts brushed his chest. My heels put us almost eye
to eye. I felt a sexy toughness swell inside me.

“Well, I liked
you
better as Prince Charming,” I said. I might have been wearing a mask, but I could
finally see beneath his. While mine hid a few common fears and insecurities, below
his surface I sensed menace; women served a purpose, and when he was done with them,
he would discard them. He was lovely for a fantasy night, but beyond that, I couldn’t
imagine a life at his side.

“I’m not yours,” I whispered. “If anything, it’s the other way around.”

Just as the spotlight found us again, Pierre reached a hand to my cleavage and tugged
it open. He dropped dozens of gold coins down the front of my bodice, letting a few
tinkle to the floor for effect. It shocked me and left me feeling icy cold. The crowd
seemed unsure whether to clap or to boo Pierre. The spotlight turned to the stage
again, where the ladies were doing their high-kick finale.

“Let go of her,” said a voice in the dark. “Or I’ll kick you hard in the teeth.”

I saw a figure approaching, silhouetted by the lights. But I didn’t need some man
coming to my rescue. I jerked my bodice out of Pierre’s grasp and smacked backwards
into Will Foret, who placed a warm hand on my waist to steady me.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah. I’m fine,” I said. The snare drums were drawing the finale number to a close.

Will turned to Pierre, who was still leaning arrogantly against the wall. “This isn’t
a strip club, Pierre.”

“I was just rewarding this beautiful dancer with the proper currency,” Pierre responded,
his hands raised in surrender.

“You grabbed her dress. That’s not allowed.”

“I didn’t know there were
rules
, Will.”

“That’s always been your problem, Pierre.”

Applause broke out in full now, and everyone around us took to their feet in a standing
ovation for the girls onstage.

Pierre brushed one sleeve and then the other, straightened his jacket, then offered
me his arm.

“This is over, clearly. Let’s get out of here, Cassie.”

At the sound of my name, Will turned to me, his mouth open. I couldn’t tell if he
was impressed or disappointed.

“Cassie?”

I pulled off my mask.

“Hi,” I said, hands on my bodice. “What can I say? Last-minute replacement.”

Will stammered, “I—I thought—I … Holy shit. You look incredible.”

Pierre’s patience was wearing thin. “Can we go now?”

“Yes,” I said. But at that moment, I saw Will’s shoulders drop, the same way they
had at the Ball after Pierre scored the winning bid. Turning to Pierre, I added, “You
can go. Anytime.”

I took a tentative step towards Will to punctuate the fact that I was making my choice.

“It’s you,” I whispered. “I pick you.”

I watched Will’s expression soften into a relaxed victory, made complete when he slid
his hand into mine and squeezed
it, a gesture so intimate it made me feel faint. Will wasn’t taking his eyes off mine.
Winning became him, I decided.

Pierre laughed and shook his head, as though Will had greatly misunderstood something
important.

“Nice guys do finish last,” Will said, looking only at me.

“Who said we were finished?” Pierre replied.

After a lingering look at me, and a cocky smile, Pierre disappeared into the crowd,
his bodyguard trying to keep up with him. I was glad to see him go.

“Let’s get the hell out of here,” Will said, pulling me through the crowd.

As we passed Matilda and Kit’s table, they both shook their wrists at me. I shook
back. Then I spotted Angela, prancing back to the stage. She, too, turned and gave
me a shake, her charms dazzling in the spotlight.

“Hey, she has the same bracelet as you,” Will said.

“She does.”

A hand reached for my arm. It was that of a squat, middle-aged woman wearing an oversize
They Do Everything Better in New Orleans
T-shirt. “Where can I buy a bracelet like that?” she asked, or rather, demanded.
Her accent was New England; Massachusetts or Maine.

“It’s a gift from a friend,” I said. But before I could pull my wrist away, she had
one of my charms pinched between her thumb and forefinger.

“I’ve got to have one!” she screeched.

“You can’t buy it!” I said, easing my wrist out of her grasp. “You have to earn it.”

Will pried me away from her and led me past the clog of spectators still at the door.
Outside in the brisk winter’s night, he threw his coat around my bare shoulders, then
pressed my back against the window of Three Muses, unable to wait any longer to kiss
me. And kiss me he did. He kissed me deeply, wholeheartedly, stopping every once in
a while as if to see if it was actually me who stood in front of him shivering in
his embrace. I wasn’t cold. I was waking up, my body shuddering to life in his arms.
It is one thing to be gazed upon by a man you desire, quite another by one you love.
But—I had to ask, even though I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer.

“Will … about you and Tracina …?”

“It’s over. It’s been over for a while. It’s you and me, Cassie. It should always
have been you and me.”

We let some tourists pass while I took in this heart-stopping information.
You and me
. We walked a few steps farther and Will stopped me again, this time pressing me up
against the redbrick wall of The Praline Connection, where a couple of the wait staff
inside raised their eyebrows.
Will Foret and Cassie Robichaud?
they must have been thinking.
Kissing? On Frenchmen?

Will’s hands, his smell, his mouth, the love I thought I saw in his eyes, all made
such sense. I wanted him, all of him. He was already in my head and heart and now
my body wanted him too. When he stopped me in the street again and held my head in
his warm hands, searching my eyes for an answer to his unspoken question, I knew he
heard my wordless
yes
. We practically sprinted the remaining half-block back to
Café Rose, where Will’s hands shook so much he couldn’t unlock the door without dropping
the keys, twice.

How was it possible he was more nervous than me? How come I wasn’t nervous at all?

The Steps.

They cascaded in my mind. I could surrender, finally, to this man I had resisted from
the beginning. I felt fearless, brave, generous and confident enough to accept him.
I trusted Will, which gave me courage to face whatever our future held. And I was
so wildly curious to find out what this man was like in bed, what we would be like
together. A new feeling rose inside me, exuberance, the ultimate promise of Step Nine.
We were joy in action.

We stumbled into the restaurant, laughing and kissing, tripping over the shoes we
kicked off in our rush up the stairs, Will frantically untying the back of my bodice,
me helping him off with his T-shirt, in a room that would never feel lonely again.

He was far from the timid lover I had imagined him to be. He was ferocious and gentle
all at once, and I reached to match him. I pulled him, kissing him with full force,
leaving no mistake about my longing. This man was mine. Standing above me, shirtless,
his beautiful arms and chest on display, he whipped off his belt. Then he threw his
jeans and underwear across the room.

“Shit,” he muttered, something dawning on him. He bolted to retrieve the tossed jeans,
shaking them to release a wallet, which he then savaged for a condom. A man had
never secured one so fast in his life, I thought, watching him slide it on. Returning
to the mattress, he knelt and opened my legs. His eyes took in the length of me, and
he shook his head as though he could not have imagined the moment more perfectly.
Then he hovered over me, showering me with kisses, gentle, then more deliberate, beginning
an achingly slow trail from my neck, down to my clavicle, and lingering at my breasts.
I couldn’t contain my giggles as he inched his way down me, his stubble tickling my
skin. He stopped every once in a while to gaze back up at my face, his eyes searching
mine, making me beg for him.
I am about to have sex with Will Foret, my boss, my friend, my man
.

My breathing turned shallow and my back arched as he glided into me. What is it called
when you yearn for someone and yet they’re right there with you, giving you exactly
what you want? What do you call something that stirs your heart, head and body at
the same time? With the other men, I had been fully there physically, but my heart
was never fully awakened. With Will, every part of me was alive beneath him. My head
was saying yes, my body was saying now, and my heart was near to bursting with the
wonder of it all.
Is that what it is to love? Yes
, I thought,
this is love.
, I realized.
Here is my love, my young old man, my Will
.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he whispered, the words catching in his throat a
little.

“Oh, Will.” It was hard to believe this was possible, this feeling of ecstasy. I writhed
beneath him, mad with desire.
I wanted to come, I had to, and yet I wanted to stop, to freeze this feeling of liquid
joy inside of me.

“I’ve wanted to do this since the day we met,” he said.

He moved up to kiss my face. His slow, deep movements elicited a thousand surrenders
from me. His elbows rested on either side of my head, as he smoothed back my hair,
his eyes searching my face. And then he began to hunger for something he had only
begun to taste. I could see it in his expression. In a single smooth motion, he flipped
me on top of him.

I placed my hands on his muscled shoulders and my hips matched his rhythm. He was
feeling it too, I knew it: a pleasure bigger and stronger than anything experienced
before. As bliss shot up and through me, I could only throw myself into it more fervently.
When I came, I heard him calling my name, his torso arching as he filled me, melding
his beautiful body with mine.

Afterwards, I lay across his chest. The chill outside, our breath, our bodies warming
the room had caused the windows to steam up. Before I could really calm my breathing,
his mouth found mine for a lingering kiss. Then he fell back again and closed his
eyes. Both of us were lost in a quiet serenity.

“I think you’re probably going to be late for work tomorrow,” he said softly a while
later. “And I think I’m okay with that.”

I laughed as I rested my head against his chest, listened to his heart. He wrapped
his arms around me, pulling me to him, kissing the top of my head.

“Have you really thought of doing that since the day we met?” I asked.

“Yup. And pretty much nothing else, Cassie.”

A terrible doubt rose in me. I needed to know.

“So, why did you guys break up?” This explained Tracina’s moodiness, her absences
the past few weeks.

He closed his eyes like a man who knows he has to deliver news he’d rather forget
about. “Couple weeks ago I caught some texts that went back and forth between her
and that D.A. from the auction. But it’s been over between us for longer. She just
handed me an excuse.”

“Was she cheating on you?”

“She says no. But I don’t really care either way. It doesn’t matter. It’s over.”

“What’ll she say when she finds out about us?”

“She’ll say, ‘Told you so.’ She always knew I was a little bit in love with you.”

A little bit in love with me?
He must have sensed my astonishment. “Yeah, you heard me,” he said, tickling my sides.
“Does that scare you? Me saying it?”

“Nah, you said
a little bit
in love, you didn’t say
a lot
in love.
That
would scare me.”

“Well—” he began.

I slapped a hand over his delicious mouth.

“Don’t!” I said, resting on an elbow and hovering over his very handsome and now very
pensive face.

He removed my hand and kissed it. “You’re different than I thought you’d be, you know,”
he said, regarding me intently.

“You mean … in bed?”

“No. I don’t mean the sex, not exactly. I mean
you
. You seem more … together. More confident, I don’t know. I mean, I always saw you
like that, but I didn’t think you did, until lately. Lately you’ve just been more … more
you
.”

I smiled down at him, having just received the best compliment of my life.

“You know, I think you’re right. I think maybe I
am
more me lately,” I said, leaning in for another kiss.

And moments later we fell asleep to the sound of the sax player who held court after
hours in the doorway of Café Rose, hat at his feet, putting his own loneliness to
music as mine dissipated into the night.