“Stay just like that, darlin’. You’ll be fine.”
She shrieked into the back of my shirt when we zoomed away from the boat launch. I had no idea where Tara was staying or if that was where she wanted to go so I made a zigzagging path through some of the ritzier neighborhoods.
As we rode, her body grew tenser and tighter. After her rush to get away from the waterway I thought the opposite would be the case.
I decided on a destination and took us there, pulling the bike to a stop near a small stretch of beach not far from the jetty. Only locals knew this spot, for now, and I came here when I wanted to watch the sunrise without company. Today the wind wasn’t great for fishing and we were blessedly alone.
Only when I stopped did I hear the rapid beat of her pulse. Tara’s scent, now sweet and heady, curled around me. She quickly pulled her arms away from me and tried to dismount. I twisted, gripping her hips and lifting her so she was half straddling the bike and half straddling my lap. Her skirt rode up her thighs, and I trailed my hand lower.
“Can I touch you?”
“Yes,” was all Tara managed to whisper. I pulled her panties aside. She pressed her forehead to my chest and rocked her hips.
That was all the encouragement I needed. I slid my middle finger inside of her and she gasped. My index found her clit and I circled slowly.
Just like that her inner muscles were clenching around my finger. Tara fisted my shirt, writhing in my lap until the wave of pleasure receded again. I was pretty confident in my ability to please a woman, but that was quick, even for me.
Tara tilted her head up to give me a shy look as I slowly slid her clothes back into place. I tried to keep my features relaxed, my smile easy, but inside I felt like a cat rolling in catnip. Every inhale of her scent had me losing my grip a little more, and I was worried I would go mad and take her right here on the side of the road.
“Oh. My. God.” Tara was the color of a hibiscus flower, her blue eyes glued to my mouth as it curved. “This kind of thing doesn’t happen in real life.”
“It just did. Unless you want me to pinch you to make sure I’m not a dream.” I gave her hip a playful pinch.
“Who are you?”
“Isaac Barbeaux.” Instead of offering her a hand, I decided on a more intimate introduction. I kissed her lower lip, sucking it gently into my mouth before releasing her and saying, “It’s apleasureto meet you.”
“Isaac Barbeaux,” she murmured, and I felt a surge of pride by how awestruck her tone was. Some of the color left her cheeks, and she scrunched her face up. “Your last nameisBarbeaux?”
My jaw tightened. She didn’t remember.
Good thing I made our second meeting unforgettable. I wanted to be on her mind long after I was gone.
“Last time I checked.”
“Like the men in the pictures at Celine’s place?”
Those damn pictures. It was like she wanted to out us.
“Half this place used to be the Barbeaux homestead. The bayou is named after us.” And the whole town would’ve been too, if my father had sold before O’Henry did. But we had no interest in leaving, no matter how hard life was on the coast. The Barbeaux name didn’t need any more attention.
I swallowed, steering the topic back to safe and impersonal territory. “Now, generally when someone introduces themselves, it’s polite to do the same.”
I knew her name. Every personal detail she shared with me was lodged in my brain, despite the drinks. I just needed to distract her curiosity.
Her blush returned, and she chewed the corner of her lip. “You remember my name.”
“Do I?”
Tara scowled. “Tara Delaine. Or have there already been so many women since me that you can’t tell us apart?”
“Jealous?” I smirked.
“Couldn’t care less.”
“You wound me.” I slapped a hand over my heart.
“You like the pain.”