Page 7 of Ride Me

No matter what the answer was, it wouldn’t change anything. Once she found out the truth, she would come to him. Based on every previous experience, it was inevitable. She would ask for him, and the next day she would be gone, convincing herself that what she’d thought she’d experienced wasn’t real.

Denying himself wasn’t easy, but in a way, it was far more satisfying. She wanted him. The simple cafe owner who wasn’t a vessel created by his father’s lust and arrogance.

“I know I’m right about this,” Ben insisted impatiently. “What she’s feeling is real.”

Rousseau shook his head. “Your gift must be on the fritz, Adair. But even if it weren’t, the man she thinks she wants doesn’t exist. I’m a shadow. An illusion. I think it’s better for everyone if we leave well enough alone. Safer. You can have her if you want. I’m going home.”

Did you just give him permission to fuck Allegra? Without us?

“That’s too bad, friend. Especially since she and Michelle just sat down at the table closest to the dance floor.” Ben made a production of straightening his shirt. “Since you’ve given me permission, I better get my sexy ass on over there before one of the other men circling decides to make his move. Someone she cares about should dance with her before they take her home.”

“Shit.” His head whipped around fast enough to disprove his outward apathy.

Allegra was here.

And God, but she looked good. Too good for a place like this. She was wearing one of those long broom skirts and a sheer cock tease of a blouse over a tank top that managed to conceal and reveal at the same time.

She did that, his Allegra. Found clever ways to cover most of her body in public, regardless of the weather. Tonight he didn’t mind, possessive asshole that he was. But he’d always noticed. He noticed everything about her.

And you’ve already seen everything as well. Strawberries and cream sprinkled with cinnamon.

Nobody else needed to know that.

Rousseau watched her tug on the thin, rose petal pink material and he frowned. She seemed more worried about her scars than usual. Did she think they did anything to diminish her appeal? She was a fighter. A beautiful survivor.

Ben had taken it upon himself to tell Rousseau that she’d been a writer for a travel magazine before an accident left her on an open-ended vacation.

Rousseau had pretended not to care, and then gone online and read every article he could find with her name on the byline. It took days to read through them all. Allegra Jarod had been all over the world, and she’d seen things he couldn’t begin to imagine. Risking her life spelunking through unknown cave systems and scuba diving in shark infested waters. The locations were all aimed at adrenaline junkies, and she’d definitely caught the bug.

From a distance, she looked so delicate, but he knew now how strong she was. The way she pushed her body each day showed her courage and determination. It was only another mountain to climb, and she’d already reached every peak she’d set her sights on.

Rousseau had never left the state of Louisiana. He’d stuck out the hurricanes and the breaking of the levees, and one day he knew he would die here. His only escape came in books about travel, or stories the pretty tourists who ended up in his bed would share in the glow between rounds of hard fucking.

Do you envy those rootless wanderers? There is nowhere you could go that would rival the sights I’ve shown you. The heights, the sensations and all the experiences you’ve had because of me.

He ignored the defensive voice in his head, though he knew that was one of the reasons he’d never leave New Orleans. He was tied here just as surely as if there were shackles on his legs.

Allegra had come here to mend her body and soul, but she wouldn’t stay. Someone with her restless spirit would crave the next adventure, the next horizon before too long. And no matter how much he wanted her, no matter how strong she was, she wouldn’t be able to accept his curse. He gripped the table and shook his head. “I can’t, Ben. You know I can’t. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“He wouldn’t be afraid of one little dance. Would you, BD?”

Ben’s quiet question sent a gale of laughter echoing through Rousseau’s head, followed by a strong surge of power. “Damn it, no. You don’t have permission to do that. No one asked for you.”

On the contrary, I believe your friend has issued a challenge. I do like that man. And he’s right, I’m not afraid of dancing.”

“Don’t do this now. Please.” Not with Allegra.

I’m growing weary of your pathetic claims of martyrdom and, despite what you think, I don’t need your permission. I need hers. She may not have asked for Bone Daddy by name, but she will before the night is over. This way, we can all have what we truly desire and everybody wins. I love winning. Now step aside.

“Quit fidgeting, Allegra. You’re making me nervous.”

“You don’t get nervous.” Michelle also didn’t usually go out to bars on the weekend, but she had tonight.

It might have something to do with Allegra announcing her plans to seduce the neighborhood player this afternoon and then informing her roommate that she was going out for the evening.

Michelle saw right through her. Which wasn’t hard to do in a tiny one-bedroom apartment. Especially since Allegra slept in the living room.

It wasn’t in her nature to hide things from her friend, anyway. The truth was, Allegra had been dying to ask her for help and advice, since she knew a hell of a lot more about active volcanoes and the best time to visit barrier reefs than she did about picking up men in bars.

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