Creole Kingpin Read online

Page 20


  Fifty-Two

  Moses

  We’re nearly through with dinner, outside on the patio, when the sky cracks open and rain comes pouring down. Magnolia and I grab our plates and rush inside, both soaked by the time we slip through the slider.

  “Where the hell did that come from?” Magnolia asks, shaking her wet hair, but all I can see is the white T-shirt sticking to her tawny skin.

  “I don’t know. You’re the expert on New Orleans weather, not me. Here,” I say as I grab her plate. “Let me get you set up at the table. I’d hate for you to miss a bite of my cooking. Mainly because I like the way you moan when you chew.”

  She laughs. “I guess that means I’m going back out to save the wine.”

  “Oh no you don’t. Because as much as I’d love seeing you look like you’re in a wet T-shirt contest, you need to go dry off. And if I follow you, I’m just gonna fuck you again.”

  Her smile turns into temptation made manifest, and in three steps, she’s back outside in the rain, and the shirt is completely transparent.

  “Is this what you mean? You don’t like it?” she calls from outside as thunder rumbles.

  “Get your ass in here, woman. You can’t get struck by lightning on our first dinner date when you’re not spitting fire at me.”

  “Come and get me then!” Magnolia spins in a circle, her arms wide, as rain falls from the sky. Her hair sticks to her face and the soaked shirt, and I wish I could capture the moment and keep it forever.

  She looks . . . free. And happy as hell.

  Come and get her? Damn right I will. Always.

  I drop the plates on the counter and run outside, wrapping my arm around her waist and scooping her up into my arms. “You’re crazy, mama.”

  With water rolling down her cheeks, she grins. “Crazy about you, Moby Dick.”

  “The feeling’s mutual.” I take her mouth and kiss her, standing in the rain while it drenches us both, as if we didn’t have a single care in the world.

  At least, until the next rumble of thunder cracks and reminds me that us getting fried means that there’s no more sex.

  I carry her inside, not giving a shit about the water running off us all over the floor. I don’t stop until I reach the bathroom attached to our bedroom and flip the faucet to start the shower.

  I lower her to her feet, running my hands over the wet T-shirt, cupping her generous tits and bringing them to my mouth. I suck her nipples through the fabric, rolling them between my teeth. Magnolia’s hands grip my head, pulling my mouth tighter against her.

  Her whimper in my ear is the ultimate turn-on.

  Heat from the steam of the shower hits my skin, and I finally pull back. “Strip, mama. I want you wet and naked for me.”

  Magnolia’s lips curve up as soon as she steps back, following my order to a T. She shoves the shorts down her legs and then reaches for the hem of the shirt. Little by little, she draws it up, revealing all that smooth, smooth skin. The tee gets caught on her tits, and my cock is rock hard by the time her nipples pop free.

  My groan sounds twice as loud in the bathroom, and I’m a man faced with a feast when the shirt hits the floor with a slap. I prowl toward her and she steps back into the shower, tempting me with a roll of her hips.

  There’s only one thing for a man to do when faced with that kind of temptation.

  Devour.

  Fifty-Three

  Magnolia

  Moses follows me into the shower, and instead of taking my mouth or going for my tits again, he shocks me by dropping to his knees. The spray bounces off his back and head as he wraps those big hands around my hips and goes straight to my pussy.

  Oh, hell yes. That’s my only thought as he sucks my clit into his mouth and tongues it, damn near sending me into an orgasm before I realize I’m even close.

  Who am I fooling? I’ve been turned on since he fucked the hell out of me earlier. Round two? Bring it.

  Moses doesn’t disappoint, and never has when it comes to this.

  He slides a finger inside me, pumping in and out, curling it forward to hit my G-spot. That, combined with the suction on my clit, has me grasping his shoulders to stay upright as my knees go weak.

  “How do you do this to me? Christ, Moby.”

  Moses glances up, his lips shiny with my juices, and smiles. “We’re just getting started, mama. Best hold on.”

  And hold on I do. Because Moses makes me come again before he finally stands, and I cling to him for support. My lungs heave like I just put myself through a punishing workout.

  “Good God. The government should force you to register your tongue as a lethal weapon, because you damn near slayed me again.”

  His grin couldn’t get any bigger, but his cock bounces between us like it’s dead set on growing another inch at the praise—and it’s already a monster. I reach down to jack him and return the favor, but he shakes his head.

  “Later. Right now, I’m fucking you. And I apologize in advance. Slow and sweet is gonna have to be round three.”

  I can’t stop laughing, and I realize sex with Moses is the most fun I’ve had in a long, long time. Maybe ever.

  “Give it to me any way you want, Moby. I’m ready.”

  He lifts me up as he turns us so my back is against the wall once more. “Legs around my waist.”

  When I comply, he swipes a kiss across my mouth, and I taste myself on his lips. Wetness gushes between my legs, soaking his cock.

  “Put my cock in that tight, little cunt, woman. I want to fuck.”

  The guttural command turns me on more than I knew was possible. I’m not about taking orders, but Moses’s make me hotter and needier.

  I grip his cock, giving it a hard stroke because I can’t resist. He releases a harsh breath.

  “Don’t tease me, mama. I need that pussy. Bad. I’m a man on the edge.”

  I line his shaft up with my entrance and meet his gaze. “Then you’d best take what you need.”

  Instead of slamming home, he lowers me inch by inch, fucking himself with my body, and it might be the sexiest thing I’ve ever witnessed. The heavy muscles of his shoulders bunch and flex as he lifts me up and brings me down. Over and over, until I can’t watch anymore, because my head is thrashing from side to side as pleasure threatens to drown me.

  The bathroom echoes with our screams as we both come, and the only thought left in my head is . . . Moses is mine, and I’m not letting him go. Never again.

  Fifty-Four

  Magnolia

  When my cell phone rings the next morning, I’m having the best dream and don’t want to wake up. But I do, because the stupid thing is loud as hell.

  “Why did I turn my ringer on?” I murmur, reaching for the nightstand. It’s at this same moment that I realize I wasn’t dreaming. Moses is wrapped around me like a kudzu vine, and the heat I was curling into while I was asleep is all from him.

  “What’s going on?” he mumbles with a sleep-roughened voice.

  “Sorry. I didn’t know my phone was on. I’ll shut it off.” I grab it off the nightstand, intending to decline the call, no matter who it is, but I see Norma’s name on the display. She doesn’t usually call unless it’s important. “Shit. I’d better get this.”

  “Okay, mama. You do that.” He yawns and rolls to his back, throwing one arm over his head.

  I slip out from under the covers and tap the screen. “Hey, Norma. What’s up?”

  “I hope I didn’t wake you. I was trying to wait to call, but . . .”

  “But what? What’s wrong? Bernie okay?”

  At the concern in my voice, Moses opens his eyes and sits up.

  “I don’t know. She keeps knocking things over when she reaches for them, like they aren’t where she thinks they are, and it’s freaking me out. We’re on her third glass this morning already, and she swears she’s fine and refuses to go to a doctor.”

  “What do you think it could be?” I ask. Hell, for all I know, Bernadette could just be bored
and winding Norma up for entertainment.

  “I don’t know. I keep watching for signs of a stroke, because that’s all I can think of.”

  When she says stroke, a heavy knot forms in my gut. “Shit. Okay. I’ll be right there. We can bully her into going to the hospital together.”

  She sighs. “Thank you, Mags. You know how she is. She’ll kill me if I call an ambulance without her say-so.”

  “Don’t you worry, Norma. She can kill me instead.”

  When I hang up and turn around, Moses is already out of bed and reaching for his clothes.

  “Where we heading?” he asks as he pulls on a pair of shorts.

  Could this man be any more perfect?

  It takes me a second to remember he asked me a question, and that I’m standing here naked while he’s already half-dressed.

  “My great-aunt’s house. That was Norma. She used to be Bernie’s maid. Now I pay her to take care of the old bat, because she’s one of the few people who can handle her battle-ax attitude.”

  He tosses a gray T-shirt over his head and tugs it down over his chest and stomach. “She okay?”

  “I don’t know. Norma thinks she might be having a stroke. Even if she is, Bernie will never admit it.”

  I go to the drawer and pull out a bra and underwear, and then grab a simple dress from the closet. We’re both fully clothed and ready to leave in under ten minutes.

  “This the great-aunt that kicked you out when you were sixteen?” he asks as we slide into the Rolls.

  “Yeah. That’s Bernie, all right. She, unlike your grand-mère, wasn’t thrilled to be raising someone else’s kid. My mom was a whore, and Bernie told me I’d end up just like her. Guess I proved her right. She’s never let me live it down.”

  “Hey,” Moses says, grabbing my hand across the center console. “That’s the last time I hear you say something sorry like that about yourself. Hear me?”

  There’s a flutter in my stomach, and I’m so damn thankful he came back.

  “I hear you. But you’d best brace yourself. Bernie is . . . well, she’s not a cheerful woman, and I don’t think she’s ever been accused of being remotely friendly. I, however, get great delight from pissing her off. So . . . yeah. Do what you will with that.”

  He smiles and squeezes my hand. “It’ll be fine. I can handle a little old lady.”

  I laugh, knowing better. “Just so you know. She’s gonna hate your fucking guts.”

  The laughter that fills the car is borderline deafening. Moses shoots me a grin. “Challenge accepted.”

  Fifty-Five

  Moses

  The well-kept white row house with black shutters where Magnolia’s great-aunt lives is in a decent neighborhood. Thanks to Trey’s skills, I’m aware Magnolia pays for it and any of her great-aunt’s upkeep that isn’t covered by the woman’s Social Security check.

  That says something about Magnolia, that she takes care of the old woman, even when her great-aunt didn’t take care of her.

  I’m already predisposed to dislike the woman for throwing Magnolia out when she was still a kid, but I’ll keep that to myself and do everything I can to charm her. Not only because I’m sure Magnolia will get a kick out of it, but because my grand-mère was a big fan of killing people with kindness. While I’m better at just plain killing people, I’m willing to go the extra mile for my woman.

  I park, and she climbs out of the car and opens the wrought-iron gate in the fence blocking off the tiny patch of yard from the sidewalk. We walk up hand in hand, and I give her a squeeze before she leads me up the stairs to the front door.

  “Brace yourself,” she warns me as she knocks on the door instead of going right in. That tells me a lot. She doesn’t feel at home here, but she keeps coming back all the same.

  Yeah, this whole situation says a hell of a lot about Magnolia’s character, even if she doesn’t realize it.

  An old black woman with a worried expression on her face answers the door. “Thank you for coming so quickly. I think she needs to go to the hospital. I just told her so and she fired me.” The lady’s eyes widen as they study me.

  Magnolia rolls her eyes. “Bernie can’t fire you because she doesn’t pay you. I do. You’re not fired.”

  The woman, who I presume is Norma, nods. “That’s what I told her, but she didn’t listen.” Her gaze cuts to me again. “Who is . . . all this?”

  Magnolia huffs out a short laugh. “All this,” she waves a hand along the length of my torso, “is Moses. He’s my . . . friend. A very good friend.”

  “Nice to meet you, Moses. I hope you know what the hell you’re doing bringing him here, Mags. Because she’s on a tear today.”

  A voice calls from inside, “I don’t care what you two say! I’m not going to the hospital. You can’t make me.”

  “I’d best get in there and talk some sense into her,” Magnolia says.

  Norma steps out of the way, and Magnolia drops my hand before we head inside.

  I pause in front of Norma. “It’s nice to meet you too, ma’am. I’ll stay out of the way, unless I can help.”

  She takes me in with a sweeping glance, starting from my head and going to my toes. “Well, worse comes to worst, you can just pick Bernie up and put her in the car. My old bones can’t do that anymore. We have to take the van, and with the fit she’s been pitching today, she’d roll her wheelchair right off the platform and kill herself just to be spiteful.”

  “Like I said, whatever I can do to help. I’m at your disposal, ma’am.”

  “What the hell did you call her for?” Magnolia’s great-aunt Bernadette yells from the next room. “I told you not to tell her anything!”

  I smile at Norma. “I’d best go in after her and give Bernie someone else to yell at.”

  “God bless you, boy. If only it were that easy.”

  Fifty-Six

  Magnolia

  Bernadette is spitting mad when I walk into the room, but I don’t care.

  I don’t pull any punches and start right in. “What the hell is your problem, old woman? If there’s something wrong with you, you’ve gotta go to the hospital.”

  “All I did was knock over a couple of glasses. Sue me for being human and a little clumsy once in a while. I’m not having a damn stroke, no matter what Norma thinks. See—I can still talk just fine.”

  She’s right about that. Her speech doesn’t sound impaired at all, and her face isn’t droopy or anything. Still, Norma wouldn’t panic if there was no reason for concern.

  Then Bernadette’s entire face changes and her eyes go wide. “Who are you?”

  I don’t have to turn around to know Moses just stepped into the living room.

  “Moses Gaspard, ma’am.”

  Bernadette’s jaw drops, and I expect her to light into Moses just like she does me, but a transformation comes over her demeanor. She sits back in her chair, folds her hands over her lap, and stares at him like she’s never seen a man before.

  I can’t blame her. He’s quite something to look at.

  “You’re a big one, aren’t you?”

  I turn around now to see what she’s seeing. Sure enough, Moses fills the entire doorway to the living room, blocking Norma completely behind him with his body.

  He clears his throat, I suspect to choke back a laugh. “Big enough, I reckon. I hear you’re having an interesting morning.”

  “Hmph. Nothing exciting here.” She waves a scrawny hand through the air like she’s swatting a horsefly. “They’re making too much of it, just like always. I’m fine. I’ve always been fine. I will be fine until the night I kick the bucket in my sleep. The good Lord and I have got a deal, and that’s how I’m going out.”

  Moses isn’t afraid of her, and I’m eating it up.

  “Far be it from me to interfere with your bargain with the man upstairs,” he says, “but don’t you think it might be worth it to get checked out? You know, to make sure you can keep your end of the deal?”

  She pats her
hair, her vanity still as strong as ever. “Who’d you say you were again?”

  “Moses. I’m Magnolia’s man.”

  Bernadette’s gaze lands on me as she speaks. “You pay her?”

  I pray for patience, because I really don’t want to go to prison for murdering my great-aunt in the next three minutes.

  “No, ma’am. Your great-niece is priceless, if you didn’t know.”

  My heart melts at his words, even though he’s just digging his grave with Bernadette.

  “You’ve got a quicksilver tongue, boy. She bring you along to try to talk me into going to the doctor? Thinking a handsome man would change my mind?”

  He steps forward, and I feel his hand on the small of my back. Partners.

  “No, ma’am. She brought me along because I wanted to meet you. You’re important to Magnolia, and she’s important to me.”

  Bernadette turns to scowl at me again. “Where’d you find this one? The street corner?”

  “No, he saved me fifteen years ago. He’s the reason you didn’t have to decide whether or not to attend my funeral.” It’s raw, but it’s true.

  Bernadette’s lips press together in a thin line, and a heavy silence blankets the room while she decides how to reply. “Then I guess I ought to thank the boy.” She holds out a hand. “Come over here. I want to see you up close. My vision isn’t what it used to be, and there’s no way you can be as handsome as you look from over there.”

  I don’t know whether to gasp at her response, laugh, or roll my eyes, but Moses does as she asks, coming toward her chair and crouching in front of her. He takes her hand and lifts it to kiss the back.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Maison. How are you feeling today? We got any cause for concern? Because both of these ladies have a right powerful need to make sure you keep on thriving.” Moses’s Creole accent thickens as he talks to Bernadette, and she eats it up.