Chapter 5

 

“What? Rousseau? Is that you?” Allegra turned to look out the window and saw him, phone in hand, staring back at her. Her heart was pounding from running as well as his blunt, vulgar question. If she had any self-respect, she’d hang up the phone right now. “And what the hell did you ask me?”

“I know I have no right, but I have to know. Is that where you went today? To him?”

Of all the nerve.

“You’re right. It is none of your business. Unless I can ask you where you were yesterday. Or about all the people you’ve been with since I met you. And frankly, I can imagine how long that list is and I don’t have that kind of time.”

Silence and shame. Her heart shouldn’t ache at that, but it did. Just enough for her to ease his mind. “Ben and I are friends, Rousseau. He was nice enough to walk me home from Mambo Toussaint’s. You know her, don’t you? Michelle’s mom?”

He didn’t take the bait. “Nothing else?”

“We kissed. At the door.” And I loved it. It was better than a chocolate caramel roll. Better than iced coffee.

All the things she could say to wound his pride ran through her mind, but her throat closed in protest, refusing to lie. Ben’s kiss made her warm, but Rousseau could make her burn with a single look.

He lowered his chin to his chest, his shoulders slumping forward as if protecting himself from a blow. She laid her palm against the glass, wanting to touch him. What was it about this man that made her long to comfort him and tear his clothes off all at the same time? “Did you want me to lie or avoid telling you altogether? What would be the point, when you already know things about me I’ve never shared with anyone else? When I already know you and Ben have shared women before, and it would be a little hypocritical of you to start acting possessive now.”

I know about the Loa. I know about everything. Talk to me.

His head lifted and she could feel his gaze on her body like a physical caress, heating her skin through the space that separated them.

“No, you’re right. I don’t want lies. Not from you.”

She was supposed to be considering her options. Thinking carefully about everything she’d learned and making a rational, well-informed decision. But hearing his voice, feeling this connection, she knew the decision had been made for a while. Right, wrong, or insane, she wanted him.

“No lies. That’s good. Then I’ll tell you I love your new haircut.”

His laugh was an exhalation of surprise as he ran a hand over his shorn hair self-consciously. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. And when Ben kissed me, I was wishing it was you.”

He swore under his breath. “Too much honesty can be a dangerous thing, bebe.”

“Why? I’ve fantasized about you for weeks. I’ve made a fool of myself and you’ve barely given me the time of day until now. Is it because Ben walked me home? The only other time you approached me was when someone was asking me to dance.”

He hesitated, and she knew he was thinking about the fact that it wasn’t really him that last time. “You trying to get me to admit I’m jealous? That it burns to think of someone else getting the chance to touch you when I can’t?”

“Who said you can’t?”

“Allegra, I—”

“You can show me,” she interrupted, shocking herself with her brazen words. “You can’t touch me from there, but you can tell me how you want me to touch myself.”

His low growl vibrated against her ear. “You have no idea how tempting you are.”

She hit the speaker button and set the phone down, her hand going to the top button of her blouse. “I’m not usually,” she admitted, stripping out of her shirt and letting it drop to the floor. “At least, no man I’ve ever known has mentioned it.”

“They’re all idiots. You’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever known. Fearless.”

She didn’t feel all that fearless, but she was more aroused than she wanted to admit when he growled into the phone again, coming closer to his window, as if desperate to see more.

“I’ve been dreaming about your perfect breasts for days. Since the club. Small and perfect with those sassy nipples I want in my mouth. I can still feel you in my hands.”

A warm breeze lifted her hair and her lashes fluttered in surprise. The window wasn’t open, yet she felt it, curling around her neck and down, moving to squeeze her nipples as if in response to Rousseau’s words. “What...?”

Can’t be left out, cher. Let us show Rousseau how much you want him. Want this.

Allegra hesitated. Bone Daddy, again? How was he doing this?

Just a little magic. He needs this more than you know. Don’t think now. Just show him how you feel.

“Allegra? You still with me?” Rousseau’s voice was rough, tinged with need. A need she wanted to fulfill.

“Still here. I’m wondering why you haven’t taken off your clothes.”

Two males laughed in relief, the “breeze” caressing her belly in approval as Rousseau started to remove his clothing. Despite her bravado, it was disconcerting to know the Loa was touching her without Rousseau’s knowledge.

If you tell him this will end now. He’ll do it to protect you from me. But you know I won’t hurt you, cher.

Strange though it was, she did. In fact, she sensed he was actually on her side. Approving of her plans for seduction.

Why wouldn’t he be?

“Allegra.”

Even from this distance in the daylight, she could see Rousseau’s beautiful form. The erection jutting almost obscenely from his body made her insides clench in anticipation. She resented the space between them, needing to touch him.

She lowered her hands to her skirt, loosening the ties until the fabric fell whisper-quiet to the floor.

“Fuck, bebe,” he swore. “I wish I could touch you.”

“You can, you know. Anytime you want.”

“Don’t say that.”

She slid her hand beneath the lace of her panties, now simple ivory, and felt the wetness there. “I’m right here, and ready for you. I want—”

“Don’t, Allegra.” His voice held a thread of urgency. “Don’t tell me what you want or who you want. Just show me.”

Tricky boy.

Allegra bit her lip, feeling the unnatural caress of the air around her. It circled her tight nipples and rode between the cheeks of her ass, driving her crazy.

Tricky? Rousseau didn’t want her to tell him she wanted him, but Bone Daddy did. He’d tried to get her to say it more than once. Ben, too, had been adamant that she tell Rousseau what she wanted.

Was that it then? In order to have him, to have Bone Daddy and Rousseau together, did she have to say those words?

And a clever girl. What a vexing combination. Whatever shall I do with you two?

“I won’t say it, Rousseau,” she assured him softly. “Not yet.”

Where her audacity came from she’d never know. In broad daylight, with people walking below and Michelle capable of coming home at any moment, Allegra was deliberately dropping her inhibitions on the floor with her clothes. It made her feel powerful.

One hand tugged hard on her tingling nipple, loving the sharp sensation, and the other pulled the lace aside to spread the lips of her sex to the delicate, licking breeze. “Can you see me?”

“You’re all I can see.”

Rousseau was copying her movements, twisting his nipple ring and stroking his heavy cock in a slow, sensual rhythm. “What does it feel like? Your piercings?”

“Love bites,” he said without hesitation. “Your teeth on my skin. Your mouth, your nails. I can feel the pull all the way down my spine. In my cock.”

She gasped for breath. Ben had been right, Rousseau was irresistible without the Loa. But then, she’d already known that.

His husky voice came to her through the speaker. “Are you wet, Allegra? For me?”

“Yes. Oh God, yes.” She rubbed her clit faster, her body on fire for this man. She lost herself to sensation, climbing higher and higher, trying desperately to keep her heavy lids lifted, to watch her distant lover as his movements grew just as frenzied as her own.

“Come for me, bebe. Let me see you. Let me watch you come apart for me. Only for me.”

Her body obeyed his command. Her fingers slipped through her slick arousal, electricity shooting up her spine as she climaxed, imagining his large, hot hands on her body. The air whipped around her, intensifying every sensation, every shocking jolt of the powerful release.

That was nothing compared to what you’ll get when you ask for me.

She ignored the voice and collapsed, grateful for the chair beside her as her shaking legs gave out. “Rousseau. That was…”

“Yes.”

The intense satisfaction in his voice made her focus, hungry to watch his orgasm as he’d witnessed hers. But he was standing at the window, one hand holding the phone to his ear, the other still gripped his erection.

He hadn’t come?

She wanted to ask why but he spoke before she could. “Thank you, Allegra.”

“But you didn’t—”

“You might not understand or believe this, but it feels like I haven’t had the honor of pleasuring a woman in close to seven years. Believe me, I’m grateful.”

She heard the emphasis as he separated himself from Bone Daddy. “Seven years? But you’ve—maybe alone or in the shower you’ve—haven’t you?”

“No.” She hated the resignation in his tone. “I can’t. But seeing you like that is worth every second I’ll be spending under a cold shower in my future.”

“I don’t understand. Rousseau, I want—”

“Sleep well, Allegra.” He hung up the phone and turned away from the window, disappearing from her view. Her special breeze had disappeared the moment he’d severed the connection, leaving Allegra completely alone with her heart still pounding. Naked in every way.

He’d hung up on her. Given her the sexiest, and first, phone sex experience of her life, then hung up without an explanation. Talk about a cold shower.

Pain throbbed in her leg, interrupting her silent pique. She turned off the phone, walking slowly toward the bathroom. She needed a hot bath, and some of Mambo Toussaint’s special bath oils.

She wasn’t completely sure, but it sounded like Rousseau said he hadn’t had an orgasm in seven years. But that wasn’t possible, was it? Everyone knew how many women he’d had in his bed. He was infamous, and his partners weren’t shy about sharing details. Not to mention the fact that he was tied to a highly-sexed spirit who wouldn’t allow him to abstain, even if he wanted to.

“If you need more help from the powers that be.” She glanced over at her bed and saw the small velvet pouch Ben had given her from Michelle’s mother. Maybe that would help her get a few answers. She definitely needed them. Now more than ever.

 

 

She knew it was a dream. She was skydiving, falling fast through the air toward a far too familiar line of trees. She hadn’t had this nightmare for months. Why now?

The wind seemed to surround her, slowing her descent and cushioning her body until she was floating safely to the ground.

Definitely a dream.

Darkness surrounded her, but she saw the flickering light of a fire through the trees. Someone was here. Another change. She took off her gear and started heading toward the light. As she approached, she could hear music and chanting. Ten voices? A hundred? From the sound of it, it was a large gathering. Maybe campers.

If they’d been there the night she’d spent tangled in a tree, she would have noticed. Her injuries wouldn’t have been so bad. She might not have needed surgery at all.

She pushed through some low-hanging branches and found herself in a clearing. There was no party. No campers or music. Just one old man sitting alone by the fire.

“Hello?”

His looks were striking. Smooth ebony skin, a shock of white hair, and a closely trimmed beard to match. He didn’t look up at her call, continuing to stare into the fire as if it held the answers to the universe.

He certainly didn’t look dressed for a night in the forest. His suit pants were pressed, his suspenders were snappy, and his shoes were impossibly shiny, as if he’d been airlifted in instead of walking.

“You’re a writer.” He threw some moss into the fire, feeding it. “Observant enough to know that what things look like, and what they are, are rarely the same thing.”

Another mind reader.

She sat down on the log beside him, sensing instinctively that he could be trusted. “I’m dreaming again. I don’t know why I always come back here.”

“We deal with things in our own time and way. You’ll stop coming when you see these woods the way you’re meant to. Not as your Purgatory, but the place where you were saved.”

Saved? Allegra looked up at the trees. She supposed it was true. If those trees hadn’t been exactly there, she would have hit the ground and died on impact. Or worse, she’d be completely paralyzed.

“I still say my subconscious is sadistic. Why can’t I dream about white sandy beaches filled with naked men and margaritas? Not that I’m complaining about the company.” She patted his arm consolingly. “Just the setting.”

He chuckled. “You have a strong, bright spirit, Allegra Jarod.”

He took a puff off the pipe she hadn’t seen before. “You are what your life has made you, so you can have no regrets on that score. You seek it out with an open heart, because you try to learn from your parent’s mistakes. You chose to travel the world to pry open the narrow box you’d been born in, to expand your horizons.”

He gestured around the clearing again. “But here is where you learned to be strong. To not take life itself for granted. You made promises that night, didn’t you? So many promises. Even a wish or two. It’s all here for you to remember.”

He was right. She’d bargained and planned until she was found. If she lived long enough to be rescued, she would recover from this stronger than ever. If she survived, she would overcome all her fears.

She would be a better friend, a better daughter. She would stay in one place for a while, write a novel. Fall in love. “I’d forgotten.”

“And yet you still found yourself on the right road heading home. Funny, isn’t it, how that works?” The old man glanced over at her and winked, bumping shoulders with her as though they were old friends.

“What do you mean? I left Houston.”

“Please.” His face screwed up in disbelief. “You’ve known since you were born that wasn’t your place, don’t deny it. Some spirits have a bad sense of direction.” He huffed out a small laugh. “Or they want the challenge of the journey enough not to care where they land. You’re one of the stubborn ones. I’m guessing it was the journey you were after, then you forgot and had to put yourself in a situation that forced the issue. And now you’ve finally reached your destination.”

He was saying New Orleans was her destination? She did feel at home there, and she’d never enjoyed a city more. It was also nice to be so close to Michelle. Someone who was like a sister to her.

“Are you saying if I hadn’t been hurt, I never would have moved to New Orleans?”

He shrugged. “I’ve no doubt you would have come back eventually. But that could have taken years.”

And she might not have met Rousseau.

“Fine. I get it. Everything happens for a reason. Now that we know why I’m here, why are you?”

He used a much nicer cane than hers to pull himself up, placing a straw hat that seemed to appear from nowhere at a rakish angle on his head. “Just helping out a friend. You have another question.” He wasn’t asking.

A wave of realization washed over her. This wasn’t just a dream, and the old man was no figment. “Mambo Toussaint’s charm. I put it under my pillow before lying down after my bath. Is that why you’re here?”

“You have a million questions, I know. Sadly, I only have time for one.”

Allegra scowled. After everything she’d learned, all that she’d been through she was finally standing in front of someone who could have the answers to life itself and he only had time for one question?

He pointed his finger at her. “You know what you want to ask me. Not out of selfish desire, but because you care. Because you know what it’s like not to have control over your body or your life. I can see it, already formed in your mind.”

So could she. She was just afraid of the answer.

“Is there a way to free Rousseau from Bone Daddy?”

“There it is.” He laughed, loud and long, making Allegra smile in spite of herself. “You know there’s not many women alive that would ask that question and mean it. Never doubt how special you are. Or that your soul belongs with young Celestin’s.”

“That is not an answer.”

He took a breath, looking up to the sky and stretching his back with a groan. “As with most things, when you want something badly enough, you’ll find a way to get it. Especially if you have something the other party wants in exchange.”

The old man turned as if to go and Allegra stood up, thoroughly confused. “Wait. What do you mean? I need to exchange something?”

He looked over his shoulder, dark eyes sparkling with good humor. “That’s two questions, and you’ve reached your limit. But you’re a smart girl. You’ll figure it out.”

“That’s what they keep saying.” She sighed. “I can’t help but wish the powers that be were a little more specific.”

“Where’d the fun be in that?”

Allegra’s lips quirked. “Thank you. What did you say your name was?”

“I don’t believe I mentioned it. But you know me, Allegra Jarod. You always have, just as I’ve always known you were on your way. Don’t worry. We’ll meet again. Next time I’m hoping it’ll be someplace a little more comfortable. I’m fairly certain I have splinters in unmentionable places.”

He disappeared between the trees, whistling. The wind picked up and Allegra glanced down at the fire just in time to see the flames shoot up into the air, whirling toward her as if aiming—

She gasped, nearly tumbling out of bed as she scrambled backward. Bed. She was in her bed in the living room. She concentrated on slowing her breathing, listening to the soft sounds of music coming from Michelle’s bedroom, telling Allegra that she was home.

She lay back against the cushions with a groan. She must have fallen asleep right after her bath, her muscles totally relaxed, her mind still in turmoil. She slid her hand beneath the pillow and pulled out the small sewn pouch. What did the dream mean? And who was that old man?

An exchange.

According to Mambo Toussaint, Ben and Michelle, this particular Loa only wanted one thing. Sex.

Rousseau was her only obstacle to that. He obviously didn’t want her to call Bone Daddy. He was the one she wanted. Would she destroy his desire for her if she defied his wishes and asked anyway?

What if that wasn’t the answer? What if Allegra called on Rousseau and his rider, and it didn’t go her way?

She closed her fingers over the buttery fabric of the charm. Last week she didn’t believe in Loa or psychics. Now she was planning a sexorcism.

She smiled. A girl had to do what a girl had to do.