I thought about our time in Cambodia and that hot pa.s.sionate night we experienced, just shortly after I danced the Macarena-which I still can"t believe I did.
I remembered the taste of her mouth while our tongues locked together in a sensual dance, and the feel of my hands against her warm, soft skin. I remembered my mouth, finding her hard nipples, and my hands slipping inside of her, exploring her wet folds.
And I remembered the glorious feeling of being inside her, the euphoric warmth as I thrust my c.o.c.k in and out of her. It was the look in her eyes that turned me on the most, the innocent look on her face that told me that we were both experiencing something new and pleasurable.
The s.e.x we had was powerful, pa.s.sionate, and hungry.
The thought of Aria, naked and pressed against my body while I came inside her left me with a ma.s.sive erection.
The door to the room suddenly opened.
f.u.c.k.
I grabbed a cushion on the couch and smothered it over my crotch, hiding my b.o.n.e.r.
"Sorry, was that too loud?" Cairo asked as he walked into the kitchen, shirtless, beads of sweat glistening on his body, grinning like a goofy child who thought he had just done something good.
"A little annoying at first," I said. "But you didn"t last long, so no worries."
He grabbed a gla.s.s from the dish strainer and filled it with water from the tap.
"Whatever man," he said, just before chugging the water.
"You think she"ll help me?" I asked.
Cairo shrugged. "Beats me man," he said.
"Can you influence her?" I whispered, just in case she was listening in on our conversation.
He laughed. "Reiko is her own ent.i.ty," he replied. "I lost my ability to influence her shortly after we moved in together. I kept forgetting to put the toilet seat down."
"Terrible," I said.
"She"ll make a decision soon though," Cairo said. "She just needs to think about it for a bit."
I nodded.
"But I"ll help you see this thing through," he said. "Your sister needs to pay."
"I agree."
"You"re still an a.s.s monkey, make no mistake about that," he said as he set his gla.s.s down. "Alright man, take it easy. I"m going to bed."
When he was gone, I took the pillow off my crotch, my erection now subsided, and my thoughts returned to Aria.
It hurt remembering Cambodia and how happy we were together only a few weeks ago. Every time I thought about the circ.u.mstances surrounding our love-Calisto"s f.u.c.king brainwashing-I felt a surge of pain as a blinding white light flashed across the back of my eyes. Were these headaches all a part of the after-effects of my sister"s brutal mind-f.u.c.k?
f.u.c.k.
Forget about Aria. I was better off that way. No good would come from the two of us being together. Forget about her beautiful soft eyes, and her lovely skin. Forget about her radiating smile when she talked about her dreams. Forget about her delicate hands that could enchant the world with her lovely music, the same hands that knew how to pleasure me.
Forget about it all.
f.u.c.k, who was I kidding?
I couldn"t get that girl out of my mind. I loved her.
I tried picturing a life with her-once all this was over-and the prospect seemed welcoming. But I just couldn"t shake the feeling that our road to a happily ever after was paved with broken gla.s.s and razor blades, and, at some point, one of us was going to stumble and fall and paint the dirt with our blood.
Chapter Sixteen.
Aria "It"s a beautiful Sat.u.r.day you two love birds! Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey."
The boisterous enthusiasm coming from Beau, this early in the morning, felt like nails driving into the side of my skull.
I must have finally fallen asleep during my struggles to fight off my own self-inflicted horniness while lying next to Lincoln. He was awake now too and looked as if he wanted to slap the lips right off of Beau"s grinning mouth.
"You d.a.m.ned well better have some eggs and bacon," he said as he sat up on the sofa bed, rubbing his eyes with the base of his palms.
"Cereal and milk?"
"What kind?" Lincoln asked.
"Captain Crunch."
Lincoln seemed to nod with approval. "Good man."
"You two better eat fast. I just landed us a meeting with Mr. Friday at noon, right by Jackson square," he said, still smiling as if he had just performed a miracle. "Kind of poetic, if you think about it-we"re meeting Mr. Friday on a Sat.u.r.day."
I gave Beau a puzzled look. "Seriously?"
"I admit, I"ve always enjoyed a bit of corniness in my life," he smirked. "My lady always said that I could feed a field of crows with all of my corn."
I grimaced at the very mention of crows.
"When"s the meeting?" Lincoln asked, in between a yawn.
"Two hours."
"I guess we best get ready then. We wouldn"t want to keep Mr. Friday waiting."
Beau nodded in agreement. "No you do not," he replied. "You"re better off burying a knife in your gut now if you"re thinking of p.i.s.sing him off."
"You"re making him sound like a monster," I said.
"Why darling, you don"t even know the half of it," Beau said. "Mr. Friday might just be the devil in disguise."
I shivered.
The sunshine and liveliness of Jackson Square lifted my spirits, and for a moment I forgot that we were meeting with a man who was described to me as the Anti-Christ.
Rows of eccentric works of art, displaying various colorful flavors of New Orleans, hung from the steel gates bordering the square. A few pieces in particular caught my eye-black and white silhouettes of jazz musicians painted against the backdrop of a bright orange sky; various renditions of the fleur-de-lis constructed from leaves and twine; and large scale portraits of Bourbon Street painted with brilliant water colors.
Meanwhile, the music continued to play. It seemed like music was always playing here.
I turned my attention to the center of the square where there was a magnificent bronze statue of a man, who I presumed to be Mr. Jackson. He was riding triumphantly on a horse, while holding his hat and giving a salute to the entire city. St. Louis cathedral was a magnificent backdrop, making it all seem perfectly picturesque.
"Well, that"s a pretty picture if I ever saw one," Beau said as he walked over to me.
"It is," I replied. "Jackson Square is quite the lovely tourist attraction."
"I was talking about you," Beau said with a grin.
I shook my head and smiled. "You try this with all the ladies?"
"Only the ones that pique my interest," he replied.
"I"m with " I was about to say Shadow, but I caught my tongue just in time. I wasn"t with Shadow anymore. He no longer wanted me.
And then Lincoln strolled over, cool and calm, as he always was.
"I"m with him," I said, tilting my head towards Lincoln.
Beau shrugged. "You can"t blame a lonely soul for trying."
Lincoln seemed to have caught the tail end of the Beau"s sentence. "And what are you trying?" he asked, amused.
"This here gal sure has her loyalty in order," Beau said. "I tried tempting her with my southern charm, but she turned me aside like a Jehovah Witness."
Lincoln looked at me and nodded. "Yes, her loyalty towards her lover is absolutely unflinching. I love her for it."
I thought about Lincoln"s touch-that dark animalistic magnetism that pulled at me-and I felt myself blush almost immediately. A smoky warmth kindled within my heart and slowly spread across my body.
"What a shame she can"t be tempted," Beau sighed.
Lincoln shrugged. "It"s an endearing quality about her," he said. "Now, if we"re done fantasizing about getting into Lucy"s pants, let"s concentrate on finding Mr. Friday."
Beau shrugged. "Yes sir," he replied. "Apparently, the instructions were to find the woman with the three eyes to her name and give her exactly four dollars and forty-four cents."
"What?" Lincoln asked, incredulously.
Beau shrugged. "Those were my instructions."
"Why that exact sum?" Lincoln asked.
"Maybe the three-eyed woman wants a sandwich," I chimed in.
Lincoln sighed. "And this three-eyed woman is supposedly in Jackson Square somewhere?"
Beau nodded. "Indeed, she is. But I have to warn you, time is of the essence. We need to find her within..." he stopped and looked at his watch, "...seven minutes before she disappears on us. Otherwise, we"ll have to wait another week to get in touch with Mr. Friday."
"Does Mr. Friday operate on weekends only?" Lincoln asked.
"You keep asking me questions which I don"t have answers for," Beau said. "I"m just the messenger. Make that six minutes now."
"You could have told us earlier," Lincoln said. "We could have arrived earlier."
"Sorry chief, my head was still in a whiskey fog when I spoke to Mr. Friday"s lackey," Beau said. "It didn"t dawn on me until we showed up here."
"Shall we split up to find her?" I asked.
Lincoln looked apprehensive to the idea. "We should keep together, Lucy," he said. "I don"t want you disappearing on me in New Orleans."
"I"ll be fine." I gestured to the crowd of people around us. "It"s a busy place. I doubt anyone will try to make a move on me with so many eyes around."
"I"m more worried about how many of these eyes we can trust," Lincoln said.
I leaned in and whispered in Lincoln"s ear so that Beau couldn"t hear. "Don"t forget, I"m a Crow Killer. I can handle my own."
"Were you this stubborn with Shadow?"
"Of course," I said.
Lincoln glanced at his watch, and reluctantly nodded.
"You still have the disposable cell phone I gave you?"
"Yes."
"Have my number punched in and your thumb on the dial b.u.t.ton," he said. "The second there"s any sign of trouble, call me and I"ll come running."
I nodded before adding, "The same goes for you. I"m more than ready to shoot trouble in the a.s.s."
Lincoln laughed. "Where do they make girls like you?"
I thought about my dad and everything he sacrificed to raise me with toughness and confidence.