The Red-Hot Cajun (34 page)

“And what are you?” she scoffed. “The horny lifeguard?”

“Whatever you want. A spectator. The lifeguard. A loose dog. The police. A wave.”

Yikes!
“Where’s my beach blanket?”

“You’re wearing it.”

“Okaaay.”

She crawled up on the bed, lay down, opened her robe, and spread it out blanket-style. Then she scrunched her eyes shut tight “Coward!” Rene laughed.

“You betcha. I always keep my eyes closed when I... sunbathe.”

“So is it hot on the beach today?” he inquired. She could hear the amusement in his voice.

“Scorching.” Truth to tell, she was feeling really hot. “I can feel the sun beating down. My skin feels tight. There are red colors behind my eyelids.”

“Be careful you don’t get a sunburn. You better put on some lotion.”

“Oh, yeah.” With her eyes still shut, she felt for the plastic bottle at her side and flipped the cap. By sense alone, she drizzled some on the middle of her chest, more than she’d planned. Setting the bottle aside, she began to spread it with her palms over her breasts, her abdomen, her belly. Then she returned to her breasts, massaging them to hard points.

“Oh... my... God,” he muttered under his breath.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing. Go on.”

“I’m imagining that you’re kneeling between my legs and you’re the one oiling me up,” she admitted.

“Then spread your legs to let me in,” he recommended.

She did.

“If I were really there, I would be drizzling oil on those curls so it would seep down and mix with your own... oil.”

She still had her eyes shut, so she had a little trouble aiming correctly. In the end, she accomplished her goal.

“Lift your knees and spread wider. I want to see you, all of you,” he said huskily. When she did, he said, “Mercy!”

“Is that mercy good or mercy bad?”

“Definitely good. Now, show me how you like to be touched. I’m a slow learner so a little vocal instruction would help.”

She groaned. “I am not that uninhibited.”

“Yes, you are. You would do anything for me... anything to please me.”

“Gentle, at first. Along the sides.” She used a middle finger to show him, over and over.

“This is the hottest thing I have ever seen. Keep going.”

She stuck one finger inside herself, then two, and moaned. “I am imagining you doing this, not me.”

“Make yourself come. Make your body hum.”

At her first touch there, she moaned softly and felt her inner muscles clench. The mattress moved as Rene eased himself onto the bottom of the bed. Her eyes were closed, but she sensed him watching her.

“That’s the way, that’s the way.”

She was flicking her finger rapidly back and forth till she was arching her hips off the bed, and she climaxed in ever increasing spasms.

Holy freak in’ hell!
He had never seen anything so hot in all his life. She was a regular sex goddess, every man’s wet dream, Playmate and girl next door mixed into one.
And the night is still young.

The minute she opened her eyes, he was up and over her.

“Oh, sweetheart, you were wonderful. Did you like it?” He lifted his head so he could see her answer.

“I did, but not as much as having you.”

“Your wish is my command,
chère.”
With those words, and no preliminaries, he slid inside her.

“Aaaaahhh!” she screamed, climaxing fiercely around him.
Thank God for multiple orgasms.

Blinking at him in astonishment, she said, “You must think I’m a slut.”

He would have laughed or teased her about that silly statement, but he was too busy concentrating on what was going on down there. He filled her and then, when he began to move out of her, nearly all the way, the tight friction was almost more than he could bear.

Before he lost his mind and his control, he wanted to say something. “Val, honey?”

Her eyes were glazed, staring up at him. “Hmmm?”

“I love you.” He slammed into her.

She made a little squeaking sound that he took to be pleasure and said, “I love you, too.”

Over and over, they repeated the procedure. He told her he loved her on the withdrawal. She told him she loved him on the deep plunge. After a while, as the strokes came harder and faster, their words blurred together, and their bodies seemed like one.

In the end, he lifted her hips off the bed and pounded into her one last time. They both yelled out “Yessssss!” at the same time as they were swept away on a mutual orgasm.

When they came back to normal breathing, Rene rolled off of her and tucked her into his side, kissing her lips lightly first.

“That was nice,” Val said, snuggling closer.

“Nice?” he protested.

“For an appetizer. What do you do for a main course?”

He laughed and said, “Wait and see.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Fighting the clock

Rene was a desperate man.

Val slept soundly in his arms. Hell, it was no wonder. He’d kept after her, over and over, hour after hour, till he lost track of how many climaxes each of them had.

He’d started them off on those silly sex fantasy games because, frankly, he was afraid of himself and how very much he wanted her. Not that he hadn’t enjoyed those games. He had hoped to cut the edge on his massive appetite; instead, the games had whetted his hunger for more.

She was worn out, unable to stay awake. He was hyped, unable to fall asleep.

As if a time clock was winding down in his brain, he constantly checked his watch, aware that his time with Val was melting away. He’d become insatiable, unable to keep his hands off of her, unable to stop telling her that he loved her. He kept thinking there must be something else he could do to make her stay.

He was trying too damn hard, like a pathetic nerd pestering the prom queen.

It was pointless, really. Val had to go back to New York, at least for now. But he knew, he just knew, that if they didn’t make a commitment before she left, their relationship would end. Neither of them would want to drag out an inevitable sad parting.

She must not love him as much as he loved her.

Breaking up is hard to do

Valerie was a desperate woman.

Rene had finally fallen into a dead sleep after practically killing himself making love to her repeatedly.

He was a bleepin’ sex machine, or trying to be.

He was wearing her down... with love. It was sex, to be sure, that he used on her, but more than that.

He showed her his love in every little gesture, from a butterfly kiss on her fingertips to a mind-blowing orgasm.

She could not make a decision under this kind of pressure.

No, that wasn’t quite true.

She’d already made a decision. She couldn’t change that decision under this kind of pressure.

He was too damn tempting.

Imagine us married.

Yeah, like he even asked me.

Imagine having him to come home to every day.

What is he, a puppy or something that would be at my beck and call?

Imagine living together, sharing our lives.

Sex, sex. . . and more sex.

Imagine growing old together.

Imagine having children together.

Good Lord! Where did that thought come from?

Bottom line: Rene couldn’t live in the city. She realized the foolishness of her ever imagining he could.

And Valerie felt absolute terror at the prospect of moving back here.

Everything that was bad about the first eighteen or so years of her life, she associated with this place.

All the family members she wanted to avoid were here.

Her entire identity was tied up with her career. It was who she was. She would lose herself if she gave up her ambition, her dreams of success, her sophisticated world.

She would be a failure.

So it was with great pain that she slipped out of bed, dressed quietly in the bathroom, and packed her luggage. She left the folder on the dresser along with a note. Only then, with tears flowing freely, did she allow herself to look at him.

“I love you,” she whispered.

And then she left.

Hello, heartache

Rene awakened to sunlight streaming through the windows... and a sudden panic.

He soon realized that his panic was warranted. Val was gone. For good, presumably.

“Son of a bitch!” he yelled, throwing a pillow across the room. Walking over to the dresser, he read her short note.

Rene:
I
love you more than
I
can say. But you and I both know it would not work . Please don’t
call me. This is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.

Goodbye, my love.

Valerie

“Bullshit!” he swore, ripping the note into shreds and tossing it onto the floor.

Next, he flipped open the folder and discovered all the evidence he would need to end the harassment by the oil companies and developers on his tail. He supposed she considered it a good-bye gift to him. He tossed that to the floor, too.

When he left the hotel a half hour later, his tears were gone, and his face was a steely mask of bitterness. Unfortunately he ran into Luc heading toward his law office.

“Rene, what’s wrong?” his brother asked with concern, running to catch up with him.

“Not a damn thing.” He shoved the folder, which he’d had the good sense to pick up at the last minute, into Luc’s hands.

“Where are you going?” Luc asked, without even looking inside the folder.

Rene stopped and looked at Luc. “To hell, I suspect.”

Attack of the killer LeDeuxs

Three weeks later, Tante Lulu tracked him down.

He’d bought the Bayou Black house after all, figuring it would make a good investment, but the only furniture in the place was the mattress on the floor of his bedroom and some patio furniture that had been left on the deck by the former owners. It was from that mattress that he now staggered to the front door where all the banging was taking place. His head felt about the size of a basketball.

Opening the door, he moaned. “Tante Lulu! What are you doing here?”

“Pee-yew, you stink,” she said, waving a hand in front of her face. “And when was the las’ time ya did any laundry?” He was wearing sweatpants and that’s all. She was right. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d done laundry. Holding a palm in front of his mouth, he blew. Yep, he did stink. Must have been those ten—or was it twenty?— Dixie beers he’d downed last night.

The first week after Val had left, he’d been a walking zombie. Inconsolable. Pathetic.

The second week, he did a little better. He accepted a position teaching science in a local junior high school, starting next month. The job offer had come out of the blue. It was something he never thought he’d see himself doing. But for some reason it seemed right... for now. Was there any more fundamental way to improve the bayou ecosystem than to educate the young? It wasn’t a yuppie kind of job that Val would admire, though. Not enough money. Not enough prestige. Maybe, in the end, that’s why he took it. A last act of defiance.

He even had a date. A local court stenographer. What a disaster that was! He apologized for his distraction and took her home early. She was beautiful and intelligent, but she was not Val. He obviously needed more time.

This week, he’d met with Luc to discuss the settlements the oil company and Realtors association had made, under threat of exposing the contents of the folder Valerie had left for him. J.B. and Maddie would be getting a new boat. And he would be given just compensation for the loss of his cabin. He hoped the thugs would lie low once the documentary came out in the fall, at least for the short term. Otherwise they could still file charges.

The thing that had sucker punched him last night was Valerie. Again. He’d stopped at Swampy’s for a beer and muffaletta, early, before the night crowds. While sitting at the bar, someone flicked the TV channel, and, lo and behold, there was Val on the screen hosting her new TV show. She looked great. He felt like shit. Apparently the break-up hadn’t affected her like it had him.

After that he drank more beer than any sane man should. He entertained the crowds with his accordion playing. He might have even danced... by himself. Yep, he had a vivid image of himself leading the crowds in a wild rendition of “Twist and Shout,” then leading a conga line to some rowdy Cajun song.