French Quarter by Lacey Alexander Page A

other end of Bourbon, his senses were on overload. She continued to blow his mind with her eager willingness to please them both in such hot, sexy ways. He hadn’t been lying when he’d told her watching her with two women would excite him more than anything ever had—that’s exactly what had happened. But he was glad his instincts told him that at the end of the evening, she’d want only him—and he was glad when she’d finally suggested going back to his place where they could be alone.
    He thought of the things they were doing together sort of like a backwards meal. The activities they’d just indulged in were like eating dessert first, and the part that was coming now, him and her alone together, was the important part, the real meal.
    As the cab took off toward his apartment, the old buildings and wrought-iron gates and balconies moving past in a blur, she slid up next to him in the backseat. Her hand grazed up his thigh and onto his crotch, where his perpetual hard-on continued to strain against his zipper. Ah, oui , he thought as she rubbed his cock. Sweet heaven. But not as sweet as it was going to be soon. He leaned his head back against the vinyl seat and basked in her caress.
    Then he returned the favor, slipping his hand under her short purple skirt. He wasted no time finding her crotch, covered by the soft lace he’d gotten to see back at the club. He sensed her parting her legs, heard her release a sigh as he raked his fingertips up, down, up, down, against the sexy lace. Her cunt felt swollen to him, from so much excitement, and even though he hadn’t thought he could get any more heated up than he already was, he did.
    He could hear her breathing now and wondered if the cab driver heard it, too. Merde , they had to have looked like exactly what they were when they’d climbed in the cab—a couple of frantic, sex-crazed lovers racing home to fuck. He leaned over, whispering lower than low in her ear. “Soon. Just me and you.”
    She answered with another hot sigh, a sexy smile in the dark.
    When the cab stopped outside his building, he tossed a couple bills to the driver before following his lady in plum through the archway to the courtyard that led to his place. He liked that she knew the way, that she’d been here before and felt comfortable enough to head toward his door as if she belonged here.
    Her heels clicked up old wooden stairs ahead of him, and God help him, his cock throbbed so intently he was tempted to grab her hips, spin her around, and do her right on the steps. Instead, he settled for a few sexy pats on her lovely ass, which was eye level with him as they headed for his second floor apartment.
    When she reached his door, she murmured, “Hurry.”
    “I’m way ahead of you,” he said, jabbing his key at the lock.
    The door fell open with both of them practically leaning on it. Together, they barreled into the living room, heading straight for the bedroom.
    “Take your clothes off,” she commanded.
    “I’m gettin’ there, chere , I’m gettin’ there.” But he was glad she wasn’t planning to waste anymore time with titillation, so he yanked off his shirt, letting it drop on the hardwood floor before starting on his belt.
    She’d crossed to the other side of his bed and stood smiling at him as she unbuttoned the same suit jacket she’d already had off for her sexy encounter with Felicia, let it slide from her shoulders, then tossed it on a chair in the corner. Her beautiful breasts looked ready to spill from that skimpy bra.
    “Keep going,” she said when he paused to study her.
    He released a short laugh. On her demand, he undid the belt, released the top button of his pants, and carefully unzipped, aware that her attention was focused on his erection. He let the khakis fall to the floor as well, then stepped free. He wore black silk boxers, not his usual underwear of choice, but it had proven a good one this evening because they’d been much less confining and had