Okay, luhvahs…here is a little taste from Control, The Soul of Voodoo, Book 1
As soon as my thoughts drifted back to Andre, my dirty-girl imagination took over, making it too easy for my focus to slip into a nice little daydream where Andre’s bare chest took center stage. In my mind, I began running my hands over the smooth, tanned skin. My eyes drifted shut and the hand I had been running along the bar began to move seductively across the wood. I let out a heavy sigh that turned into a soft moan. The smile that had begun to curve my lips turned into a grimace when I heard wild peals of laughter directly behind me. Without turning around, I knew that James had busted me thinking dirty-girl thoughts. Again.
“Oh my God, girl! I am going to make you one of those little rubber bracelets, WWFS – What would Freud say? Every time I catch you stroking Andre’s wood, unless it’s the real thing, honey; your WWFS bracelet will shock your Va-J-J.” His chocolate-brown eyes twinkled at me as he started to cackle, and continued with his rant at my expense. “You better not slide off that bar stool now, I’ve lost track of how many times your panties have melted off while you stroke Andre’s wood!”
Ewww…and with that one, the cackles turned into full-out squeals of glee. James was now half sprawled on the bar stool next to me, while his upper body was draped across the bar shaking with laughter. I simply glared at him, patiently waiting for his inner drama queen to regain some dignity.
“Oh, speaking of humiliating moments and Andre. Please allow me to thank you for changing his personal ringtone to ‘Hot in Herre’,” James looked up in anticipation. “Yeahhh, so when he called and woke me up this afternoon, I just assumed it was you…” The worst thing that anyone could do to James is leave him in suspense on a really juicy story, so with that in mind, I pulled out my phone to check my email.
“Nuh uh, no way, ho! What did you say? I know it was good, I can see it in your devil eyes. Spill it, sister,” he was beside himself; I think he would have promised me a love child to get me to finish the story. I ducked my head and covered the smile that was becoming impossible to ignore.
He was not finished yet…he stomped his foot. Seriously. He stomped his foot, and demanded, “You will tell me now, bitch, or I swear I will drop some voodoo gree gree on your ass that will make it so big I’ll be able to serve high tea off of it!” I turned to look at the ass in question and gave it a little smack before looking back at him and cocking my eyebrow up.
His face was pinched as he glared back at me, and since I could no longer hide my amusement, I took pity on him, “Okay! So, I answered in a really sexy voice and said something along the lines of, ‘I knew you always wanted see me naked’,” James had covered his mouth with both of his giant hands and his eyes were about to pop out of his head. But before he exploded with the laughter I knew was coming, I told him the rest, “Oh, but that wasn’t all, after telling him I knew he wanted to see me naked, I then let him know that he was in luck because I was already naked and in my bed!” His laughter rattled the windows, and I could not help but laugh as well. It took ages to get a hold on our laughter completely, each time one of us would start to calm down; the other would start singing the Nelly song, which led to another several minutes of wild giggles.
James looked at me sharply, “Oh girl, you didn’t!! I almost hate to ask, but what did he say?”
“Well, in typical Andre fashion, he said, ‘As appealing as that does sound…’ and then asked me to work, ‘clothed, of course’”, my smile suddenly faded as I realized just how bad that sounded, like I am some kind of hideous goblin.
“Oh, honey. You need to find yourself another man’s wood to stroke or your sorry little Va-J-J is going to fall off with all of the shocks from your WWFD bracelet.” He said, giving me an exaggerated pout before flopping back onto the bar, and laughing like a madman. Suddenly my humiliation was not all that funny anymore. His laughter slowed down and he lifted his head from the bar to smile at me. For a minute, I thought he was finished, but then I saw the twinkle in his eyes and he started to open his mouth for another round.
My patience snapped, “Oh, all right already! You are the master of double entendre, but it wasn’t Freud who shocked his subjects and you will definitely not be shocking my Va-J-J any time soon!”
“Well, it’s going to need a defibrillator to bring it back to life unless you take pity on the sad thing and give it some exercise,” James replied as he hopped off the bar stool and walked behind the bar. I narrowed my eyes at him, gaining a chuckle for my effort.
I stuck my chin out in defiance, “You just worry about your own Va-J-J, and leave mine to me,” I paused for a breath before continuing in the same sexy voice I had unknowingly used on Andre, “As a matter of fact I enjoy melting my panties off with a steamy fantasy. Panties are overrated anyway.”
My smug expression lasted for about 2 seconds before I realized that James’ smile was showing so many teeth he started to resemble the Joker from Batman. Even worse than the psycho smile was the red blush coloring his cheeks…what the?! James’ skin is a rich luminescent brown, almost the exact color of the mahogany bar I was so recently fondling. I have never, ever, seen him blush. Ever.
I would have still been staring at him in wonder if I had not felt the hand brush softly across my shoulders, moving my hair aside and softly touching his lips to my ear as he whispered, “I agree. Panties are definitely overrated.”
Aaaand they melted right off.
“Andre,” his name came out in a near whisper and I would have kicked myself in the neck if I could have managed it. Unfortunately kicking my own neck is out of the question, but I figured that choking humiliation would be enough punishment for now, so I braced myself for the mockery I would see reflected in his green eyes. I was not in any hurry to be confronted with my embarrassment; so I very slowly spun my bar stool to face him. When I was halfway around, I glanced over my shoulder to see his eyes moving just as slowly, while they moved up my body; burning a trail from the toes of my sandals, around the curve of my hips, lingering on my chest as it swelled above the low neck of the infamous mini dress, and meeting my eyes. Where Andre’s eyes are the green of spring grass, mine are the color of ripe Mediterranean olives. When they met his, my olive-green eyes widened (to what I am sure was cartoon proportions). For the second time today, I realized, I was the recipient of a heated gaze. Where the blue eyes from this morning made my tummy flutter, Andre’s spring green eyes set me on fire.
My thoughts went wild, what the hell is with this dress?! I am going to have this thing bronzed…wait, no. I am going to have one just like it made in every color of the rainbow. Maybe it is like a superhero costume…You can now call me The Seducinator. My brain was spinning out of control as I watched the slow smile spread across his luscious mouth.
Okay Seducinator, rein it in a little bit. You are going to start drooling on yourself, or worse, drooling on him, I thought, giving my overactive imagination a mental slap.
Thank God my whole inner spaz didn’t distract me for very long because Andre had moved in so close that I could tell exactly which herbs he’d just been clipping from the garden in his courtyard. Not only was he standing close enough for me to rub up against, like a cat in heat…wh-huh? Clearly, I need to get out of cat-rubbing proximity before I do something truly creepalicious, like start purring or some shit like that. It took supreme effort on my part, but I knew I should put some distance between the panty-melter and myself, so I tried to spin the bar stool a little further around giving me enough room to hop off. However, Andre chose that moment to prop his foot on my footrest and lean forward onto his raised knee, putting his lips mere centimeters away from my own. I have never been one to be polite in refusing the advances of overaggressive men, so if it had been any other man on the planet that had moved so far into my personal space, I would not hesitate to go Three Stooges on their ass. That shit is just not cool. Nevertheless, this was not any other man; this was Andre St. Clair, Panty-Melter extraordinaire.
That being said, all I could think about when the unearthly beauty of Andre’s face settled a hand’s breadth away from mine; I wonder if he would be put off if I licked him. His eyes stared into mine and for a second, my breath caught in my throat. I swallowed shakily as he opened his mouth to say something and I could feel the soft caress of his breath on my lips, smell the tangy, fresh scent of strawberries…I let out a tiny sigh.
“Cecelia,” he whispered my name like the softest caress.
Oh. My. God. I am not going to survive this conversation if he says my name like that again, my brain whimpered to the rest of my body, which had already surrendered.
“I find myself wondering…who is the star of your panty-melting fantasies?” As he spoke, he drew a little figure 8 on my upper thigh with his free hand. I almost swallowed my tongue.
From the sound of a loud crash behind the bar, James either passed out or dropped a full bottle of liquor. Neither Andre nor I even flinched. I vaguely registered a voice babbling about going to find a broom to clean up…he would look at his house for one…he’ll make sure to lock up on his way out…be back this evening. I love me some James. I noticed, with increasingly shallow breaths, that Andre’s finger slowly moved upward with each step that James made toward the door. By the time the lock clicked, his finger was running along the low neckline of my dress, dipping low into the crevice between my breasts. After tracing the neckline of my dress, he started moving his hand down the side of my body.