Then another vibration came. My phone. But my focus? The taste of her.
Journey stepped back, licked her lips, then turned away. “Answer.”
I cursed under my breath, tugged the phone from my pocket, and answered.Damn, Momma.I’d always answer my momma. But I didn’t expect her response to stick a wedge between me and the woman who had more walls than the Federal Reserve Bank and Chris Brown’s security detail combined.
Momma asked me to get to the restaurant.
In less than thirty seconds, I realized Texas and Shanice had gone, gone, and we’d kissed for damn near an hour. I threw cash on the table, then rushed Journey out the door with me.
“That girl left me. Wow,” she murmured, skin all dewy and glowy beneath the streetlights speeding past.
I slowed a block from my restaurant. “That’s the Babineaux effect. Or it was …” I muttered under my breath.
Her eyes cut at me.
“Didn’t mean it like that.”Yes, I did.
“Mm-hmm, Montana. You’ve got an attitude because I haven’t given you the one thing you crave. FYI, I’m not wearing a thong. These seamless underwear melt against me, though.” Journey’s lipscurved up, vicious. “Which you willneversee. I only kissed you … because of the countdown. So, Happy New Year.”
Head tilted, I side-eyed her. “You can’t tell me this alarm didn’t kill a good thing.” I stopped the car, hand sliding over her thigh.
I expected her to fidget—which I low-key loved. Told me that even though she had a son, she wasn’t easy.
I stared her down, my hand still there. Her mind had taken off, running sprints when I mentioned needing to get to HC&PP Maison.
Something about the alarm had Journey spooked, even though I’d told her a hundred times on our drive that Auntie Peaches forgot to call the security company because it kept malfunctioning.
I gave the curve of her hip a squeeze. “Come in.”
“Too cold.”
“You ain’t met cold yet.” Okay, Journey wasn’t from the Upper Midwest since she couldn’t stand this cold. My hand squeezed again, firm and demanding. “Don’t leave.”
For a second, my chest pulled tight at the thought of her disappearing. Then I popped the door. Needed to deal with this minor problem.
The alarm blared as I ran into the restaurant and keyed in the code.
Leaving the system off, I strode to the door. Outside, Miss Composed and Collected did the pee-pee dance up the sidewalk, arms folded tight, legs crossed.
“You know that arcade dance game,” I said, “you should’ve played it at Chuck E. Cheese.”
“Ha.” Journey rushed past me.
I flicked the lights, and she shot a soft smile before disappearing down the hall.
Minutes later, that littleclick-clackof high heels every dude learns to pant at pulled me from watching the bar across Royal Street.
Journey strolled past velvet booths, eyes locked on me like sheknew exactly what she was walking into. She rushed me, hips, waist. Every curve molded to mine. Made for me. Her mouth crashed into mine, lips clashing, a spark of heat burning us alive in that good torture. She bit my bottom lip, teeth tugging, then she called my name.
The sound hit harder than a fastball. Her shiver sent a jolt of energy that made my body tingle. A soft moan escaped her, low and deep enough to tremble against my tongue.
“Montana, just this once …?” she murmured, breaking away from my lips for a second.
“Once?” I managed, brain drowning in her taste—baptized, saved, and backsliding in one breath. Her sweetness was a temptation my ego couldn’t release.Once?bébé,my pride just threw itself off the Crescent City Bridge.
My arm locked around her waist, pulling her higher. My other hand anchored the small of her back. She was weightless between my arms, heavy in my mind, and Big Country keeled over, clutching his chest at the audacity. Us? A free-trial subscription? No, ma’am.
Without breaking our kiss, I placed her on a linen-covered table.
