Page 6 of Ride Me

Chapter 2

The club was bursting with noise and heat, crowded with willing bodies and a palpable anticipation that was as familiar as it was unwelcome.

Rousseau lifted the warm, watered-down soda to his lips and grimaced. What had he expected when he’d let Ben talk him into leaving the loft? He didn’t live in a city with seasonal tourism. Even in September, the weekends brought revelers to the Big Easy. He hated all of it. The noise. The expectations and desires that buzzed around him like flies. At least at home he’d be able to do the paperwork for the café. Finally get through that book he’d been reading.

Your ennui is unbearable. It’s also a lie. You want to be home so you can watch that sweet piece through your window with your hand down your pants. Maybe the Toussaint girl will be massaging her leg again. I did enjoy that. Or maybe she’ll be alone, walking around in nothing but those tiny pink panties with all that lace in the front. I’d love to tear those off with my teeth and stick my tongue—

“Shut. Up.”

“Talking to yourself again?” Ben’s knowing grin set Rousseau’s teeth on edge. Bastard. He knew better than anyone how much he disliked these high traffic bars in the Quarter.

Places like this brought out something inside him he literally couldn’t control. Places like this made him realize he’d never be able to have a normal relationship. A normal life. How could he when he wasn’t sure if he’d wake up surrounded by strangers and memories that would make a scoundrel blush?

Memories that belonged to someone else.

“You said you needed to talk, Ben. We could have done that at my apartment, so why are we here?”

Ben took a long pull off his beer bottle, the condensation dripping down his arm as he tipped it back in obvious enjoyment. “Man, I needed that.”

Rousseau’s mouth watered, but he didn’t trust himself with alcohol anymore. He had to stay alert.

Yes, be vigilant or you might actually enjoy yourself.

“Relax, man.” His friend set the bottle down and leaned back against the booth. “It’s dark and crowded and exactly the kind of place a guy can disappear in. Plus, we’re hidden away at this corner table. We can see the whole room from here, but no one is looking at us.”

“Again, why are we here?”

Ben took a breath. “I need to talk to you about Allegra.”

He’d known this was coming eventually. How many days had he looked up from the line of women ordering coffee to find her sitting at the table he’d put outside for her, laughing at something Ben was saying? Too damn many.

You wanted her where you could see her. Did you think no one else would be looking?

“You thinking of staking a claim on Michelle Toussaint’s new roommate?”

After what happened with the last one, she still glared at Rousseau every time she walked by the café.

“Are you looking for trouble, Ben?”

“Always.” Ben laughed. “And a man would be a fool not to claim Allegra Jarod. Don’t you agree?”

Rousseau forced out a noncommittal grunt instead of a warning growl and Ben shook his head. “Why are you being so stubborn? You and I both know it’s not me she wants. I’m not the reason she sits at that table, day after day, waiting for you to come to your senses.” He paused thoughtfully. “Though I do think I’ve managed to pique her interest recently.”

What the hell did that mean? Rousseau tensed and Ben sighed. “Oh, my friend, I hate that you’ve lost your sense of humor most of all. I can’t even tease you anymore.”

“I have a sense of humor.”

No.I have a sense of humor. You have a sense of apocalyptic dread and doom. Not the same thing at all.

“Allegra Jarod wants you, Rousseau. Not him. Not the experience. You. She’s not from here. She’s heard a few rumors but she laughs them off. She doesn’t even know he really exists, but I know she could handle it if she did.”

“You think or you know?” He wished the question back immediately. It was too revealing.

“I know. What exactly do you think we talk about every morning? And before you accuse me of giving away your big secret, you know better. But I will admit that you’re usually on her mind. If you aren’t sure, go on and ask the voice in your head.”

He’d rather chew glass.

Disturbing visual.

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