Hot SEAL, New Orleans Nights Page 3

  Not letting go of Amelie’s elbow, he bent toward his mother.

  As was her custom, she cupped both sides of his face and kissed one cheek then the other. “Mon fils, you’re home!” She gave him another set of kisses then leaned back and smacked his shoulder. “You couldn’t call your mother?”

  He gave an exaggerated grimace. “I got in late last night. I didn’t want to disturb you.”

  “You been gone too long, boy. Forgot your upbringing. Disturb me? Pfft!”

  Her gaze went to Amelie. “You poor thing. Come inside. What’s Thibaut thinkin’, keepin’ you on your feet!”

  As his mother turned to lead the way inside, Thibaut heard a snicker beside him.

  “She’s not done with you,” Amelie whispered.

  He glanced at the straight set of his mother’s slender back and listened to the rapid click of her low heels on the steps. No, his mother would have much more to say about his sudden appearance. Just not in front of friends.

  Which brought him back to his mother’s description of Amelie—poor thing? For years, Amelie had been “that woman”. What the hell was going on?

  Inside the house, he spotted Josette, her full-figured body held like a queen’s. Her corkscrew curls glinted with more silver than black these days. However, her face was still as wrinkle-free and freckled as always. He paused and gave her a quick kiss on one cheek. “Tante Josette,” he said softly.

  Her smile was sweet and slow. “’Bout time you got here, Thibaut.” Then she opened her arms and engulfed him in a long, hard hug. “Ooh, there’s more of you now. What do they feed you in the Navy?”

  He chuckled. “It’s not what I eat, Josette.”

  “I can tell,” she teased, pinching his bicep. “Bet my girl loves this.”

  He cleared his throat and moved back, unwilling to look at Amelie or the heat creeping up his neck might spread across his cheeks. Josette had an earthy view of love and sex. She’d never chided Amelie about her relationship with Thibaut and had given her advice about unwanted consequences while encouraging her to explore pleasure. Obviously, she’d never given up on the two of them getting back together.

  Amelie moved closer to give her aunt a hug. “I’m so sorry about the shop.”

  The two women swayed together.

  “The shop is still standin’,” Josette said. “I’m more worried about you.”

  “I’m fine.”

  Josette clucked. “You were attacked, little girl. You got a concussion. You need to head on up to bed. I’m fine. Nanette kept me company, made sure I didn’t worry. They’re all pitchin’ in soon as the arson investigators finish up. Won’t take us a day to put things right.” Her head turned toward Thibaut. “You stayin’ the night?”

  Amelie moved back. “There’s no need,” she said quickly.

  Josette arched a dark brow. “I’m old. Need my sleep. Someone’s gotta keep you company.”

  Thibaut bit back a smile. “I’m under doctor’s orders to wake her throughout the night.”

  Josette laughed. “And I’m sure you’re very good at takin’ orders, hmm?”

  Chapter 5

  Amelie hurried up the stairs, trying to put some distance between herself and Thibaut. Her aunt’s musical laughter and Thibaut’s husky chuckles irritated as much as they also fed an excitement that rushed unabated through her veins every time she looked at the man.

  And her aunt knew exactly how she felt. When she’d said, Bet my girl loves this, as she’d pinched his brawny biceps, Amelie had felt as though her innermost thoughts had been exposed for the entire world to see. Hell, yeah, he was sexy as hell. Even more so than when they’d dated. He’d had fourteen years to hone his body into a killing machine, and she’d be dead not to wonder what that added mass looked like when he was naked.

  Just the thought of her body weighed down by his, his hard-edged features sharpened by desire as he stared at her…

  Dammit, now she had the image in her head. Her toes caught the edge of a step, and she pitched forward. She cried out as she fell, but again, she was caught and hauled up against his hard body.

  “Don’t go killin’ yourself ’cause you’re pissed at me,” he murmured.

  His hands burned through her clothing. One rested on the small of her back, the other cupped her ass. She tossed back her hair and gave him a glare. She might have said something cutting, but his expression froze her in place. There was heat in his eyes and in the hue of his cheeks. Her breasts softened against the hard wall of his chest; the tips tingled. “I’ll go slower,” she whispered.

  “Slow might kill me, cher.”

  Her next breath rasped out.

  He blinked, and the look in his expressive eyes seemed more remote. “The doctor said rest.”

  Disappointment felt like a bucket of cold water flung against her hot skin. She placed her hands against his chest and pressed. Slowly, their bodies moved apart.

  Glancing down the staircase, she saw her aunt and Nanette Cyr standing near the base of the steps. Nanette quickly looked away and pretended to smooth the blonde bun in hair. Her aunt simply smiled.

  She should never have shared her dreams with her aunt! Tante thought her “sight” was expanding, that she was becoming clairvoyant, while Amelie was sure the things she saw when she dreamed were only wishful thinking. Her, living with Thibaut in wedded bliss, children surrounding them…

  Turning away from Thibaut, she held the bannister as she climbed the last few stairs to the second-floor landing. She didn’t dare look back again. When she reached her door, she turned the knob. “I need to shower.”

  “You’ve already proven unsteady on your feet. I can’t let you go into the shower alone.”

  She pressed her lips together. “I’ll keep the bathroom door cracked.” When he didn’t respond, she took that as agreement and pushed open her door. Pretending not to notice him moving around her room, she gathered clothing and underwear then headed toward the bathroom. When she stepped inside, she kept the door cracked then undressed behind it and stepped into the shower, standing at the back of the stall until the water warmed. When it was hot, she bathed quickly, washed her hair, then turned off the water and pulled her towel through the door to dry off. Overkill, she knew. And not that she wouldn’t mind him seeing her naked again, because he’d seen that so many times…

  Pure stubbornness made her thwart him, even when he wasn’t aware. He’d pushed his way back into her life, inside hours, and he’d leave again, just as quickly. She had to remember that. He was a SEAL. He’d dedicated his life to the Navy, likely putting himself in harm’s way more times than she could bear thinking about.

  If she was on his radar now, it was…curiosity, maybe. Or perhaps, revenge for how she’d dumped him all those years ago.

  Throughout those intervening years, she’d relived the moment when his hands had squeezed her arms and he’d given her that hard, punishing kiss. When she’d turned to walk away, inside, she’d been screaming for him to stop her. Make her come back. Hold her to her promises.

  Instead, he’d let her leave. And for what? Her dad had wanted her to go to a better school. Had wanted distance between her and Thibaut, so that she’d have time to consider a better plan for her life than living in this southern, sin-filled city. He’d never liked New Orleans, had quit the city and his marriage soon after he’d talked her into going to Illinois. There, he’d introduced her to old business partners, arranging an internship at an insurance company working in the actuarial department—something she’d actually enjoyed. After she’d graduated, she’d been hired full-time, but her success hadn’t made her happy. Unlike her father, she’d thrived in New Orleans and missed it sorely. She’d missed her mother, her aunt, and mostly, Thibaut, although she’d found out soon after she’d left that he’d abandoned the city as well.

  Now, she was back. Working for a pittance of what she’d been making in Illinois but rebuilding her happiness. One relationship at a time.

  She wished she�
��d come sooner, before her mother’s passing three years ago. When she finally had returned, she’d expected the only person ready to welcome her back would be her Tante Josette, but within days, Thibaut’s friends and family members had made the effort to drop in at the shop, ostensibly to see Josette, but they’d each given her a hug. When at last his mother had arrived with the tinkle of the bell, Amelie had stood frozen and a little afraid, because she’d always loved Nanette Cyr. Nanette had given her a long, hard stare, and then had opened her arms. Amelie hadn’t hesitated, flying into the older woman’s embrace. She’d been forgiven, but she hadn’t realized then that she was their hope. Not until tonight.

  The air of expectancy surrounding, first Remy, who’d given them sly side-eyes, and his mother downstairs, who’d watched so intently while they’d walked up the stairs, told the truth of their hopes. They thought she was the key to convincing Thibaut to stay.

  She didn’t have the heart to tell them she wasn’t the answer. Even if she and Thibaut slept together, she knew he wouldn’t surrender his heart again. Not to her. She’d already stomped all over it.

  When she cracked open the door, she was startled to discover how close he stood. With her hair a messy mop of wet curls, and not a bit of makeup to hide behind, she felt vulnerable. He’d see every blush. Her heart pounded, but every pulse also thudded against her skull. The painkiller the hospital had given her had worn off. “I need some Tylenol.”

  His eyebrows lowered. “Where will I find it?”

  “Behind my mirror.” She turned to head back into the bathroom, but he was already brushing past her. A few seconds later, he handed her the bottle and a glass of water.

  She downed the pills and returned the glass. “Thanks.”

  “Put them on the table next to the bed.”

  The bed. That was what held her frozen in the middle of her room. He expected her to crawl between the covers. Where would he be?

  He sighed. “Get in bed, Amelie. I don’t jump girls when they don’t feel good.”

  “Have you jumped many when they do?”

  He quirked an eyebrow. “You hopin’ for a quick recovery?”

  “That’s…that’s not what I meant.”

  “Get into the damn bed.”

  Although his words were harsh, his tone wasn’t.

  She nodded, aware her pajamas weren’t sexy. They consisted of a cotton shirt and shorts with sprigs of little flowers decorating them. Something she’d bought at Walmart because they were cotton and cheap, and she didn’t want to spend into her savings for anything, being determined to live within her new means.

  She moved toward the bed, pulled back the covers, and slipped in between the cool crisp sheets. It felt so good, she couldn’t help a little groan.

  “Now, I’m jealous of your sheets,” Thibaut muttered.

  A giggle escaped. Then a piercing pain caused her to squeeze her eyes shut.

  “You okay?”

  “Just…don’t make me laugh again,” she said, rubbing her head.

  The bed sagged beside her. She peeked between her lashes to see Thibaut stretched out beside her on top of the coverlet.

  “Go to sleep,” he said, his tone a little harsher than before.

  She closed her eyes completely and willed her body to relax. The lamp on the bedside table flicked off. “How long are you staying in New Orleans?” she whispered.

  “Don’t know.”

  “You should be with family.”

  “Seems like my family would disagree.”

  She glanced sideways, wishing she could note his expression, but only seeing his dark profile. “It’s a little weird.”

  “What is?” he said, his words clipped now.

  “That they don’t seem to mind you being here, with me.”

  “Yeah, it is. You and Remy seem…chummy.”

  “He came to see me a while back. Said it was time to let go of old resentments. Said we were friends before everything happened, and he wanted to be again.”

  “That’s nice. For you.”

  “You wanted him to stay angry with me?”

  “I don’t want him getting any ideas.”

  “Ideas?”

  His head rustled on his pillow. “You’re a beautiful woman. He’s single. You’re single. Ideas.”

  A flush seeped into her cheeks. “Oh. Um, no, it’s not like that.”

  “Maybe not from your side.”

  “No, he’s never done anything…asked me out…nothing.”

  “It’s inevitable.”

  By his tone, he sounded resigned.

  “No, it’s not. And that’s not what I meant by weird. Did you notice the look on your mother’s face when we went up the stairs?”

  “She was watchin’ to make sure you didn’t fall.”

  She rolled her eyes, even though she knew the gesture was wasted on the darkness. “She was studyin’ us, waitin’ for something.”

  “You’re imagining it. Maybe she’s worried I’ll do something stupid like fall for you again.”

  “That won’t ever happen,” she mumbled.

  “Right. So, she’s got nothing to worry about.”

  “I should go to sleep,” she said, sorry she’d ever mentioned a word about the weirdness tonight.

  “I’ll wake you up. So, don’t go screaming.”

  “Why would I scream?”

  “Wakin’ up with a man in your bed…”

  “Why would that be unusual?” she said, getting snippy.

  “In Tante Josette’s house?” he said, sounding horrified.

  So horrified, he had to be joking.

  She reached out and smacked his belly. Only she aimed a little low. She knew the moment her palm made contact because what she hit was rounded, not flat.

  Chapter 6

  Thibaut’s response was an instant, “Fuck!”

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean—”

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He sucked in a deep breath. “Fuck.”

  “I swear, I didn’t aim…there.”

  “Just…go…to…sleep,” he gritted out.

  She pressed her lips together to keep from apologizing again, but then she thought about it for a second longer. He’d been hard. Was he as bothered and aroused as she was being this close? “You’re hard,” she whispered.

  “Was.”

  “Well, I didn’t smack you that hard. I was going for a playful tap.”

  “Playful tapping isn’t something I want anywhere near my dick.”

  “Sorry,” she bleated then tightened her lips again, vowing internally to shut the hell up.

  There followed a long silence, then, “How sorry?” he whispered.

  Her eyes widened. Her breath held. “Pretty damn sorry.”

  “You’re supposed to rest.”

  “I’m supposed to not fall asleep and never wake up again. So, I’m very, very sorry.” She stopped and bit her bottom lip, trying to keep her breathing slow and steady so he didn’t discover how excited she was getting. But of course, she didn’t have the patience to wait for him to figure out what he was really asking. “Um, do you need a little massage…down there…to soothe the ache?”

  “Fuck,” he whispered.

  She came up on an elbow and leaned over him. “Are you still hurting?”

  “Yeah…fuck.” He gave a thin moan.

  Slowly, she reached out, hoping she was reaching this time for the right thing. Her fingers closed around a long thick column. “You should probably push your jeans down. It’d work better.”

  “You think…?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure.”

  “Okay.”

  She let go and listened while his zipper rasped and then his clothing rustled. When he stopped moving, she reached again, this time closing her fingers around hot-satin skin cloaking a steel-hard erection. “Let me know if I hurt you,” she said, trying not to pant.

  * * *

  Lying in the darkness, listening as Amelie’s breaths shortening to
sexy whimpers, he reveled in the feel of her hands smoothing up and down his shaft. “You’re not hurtin’ me,” he said, his words sounding garbled to his own ears. “You can squeeze harder.”

  “Oh, wait. This should be wet. Don’t want to give you friction burn.”

  He didn’t move a muscle, dying a little inside as he waited, hoping. And then the thing he’d dreamed of so often happened, her mouth engulfed the head of his dick, her lips sealing around him, and she began to bob, up and down, on his cock. “Damn,” he whispered. “Fuck.”

  She came off. “Too much?”

  He placed his hand behind her neck and pushed her face down. “Don’t stop.”

  She quickly gobbled him up, making a mewing sound as she descended. When his dick hit the back of her throat, he growled a little, liking the fact she’d taken so much of him.

  Her hands wrapped around his base and began squeezing sideways, rotating and forcing more blood up his shaft. He was so hard he gritted his teeth. “Baby, gonna blow,” he said and pulled on her hair, forgetting about the knot on her head—until her teeth clamped around his dick. “Fuck!”

  Instantly, he let go of her head and spread his hands in the air, afraid to touch her again, afraid she’d stop, because she’d descended again, this time lowering until her throat constricted, and then opening her throat and letting him slide deeper.

  A fucking dream come true.

  He was done. His balls cramped. He didn’t think to warn her. Wouldn’t have, if he could have gotten a word past his dry-as-a-desert throat. When his balls released, he screamed an internal halleluiah while his entire body tensed, toes to eyebrows. Come shot in waves down her hot throat.

  The gagging sounds sounded very distant, but he blinked and returned to himself in time to realize he clutched her shoulder, holding her down on him. He let go and cupped the sides of her head to raise it.

  Braced on quivering arms, she gasped above him.

  Guilt crashed over him. She was injured, and he’d just taken advantage of her generosity. He’d tricked her into pleasuring him.

  The least he could do was offer her the same compensation.