New Orleans Noir. Joanna Wayne
Friday, March 15
Elizabeth Grayson jerked forward as the car skidded to a slippery stop. The deserted dirt road that had been barely passable before had suddenly disappeared, replaced by clumps of tall grass, deeper pockets of brown water and what appeared to be a wide stretch of swampland.
Her nerves grew edgy. “Where are we?”
“Somewhere we can finally be totally alone.” He flicked off the headlights.
“It’s pitch-black out here,” she murmured.
“Are you afraid of the dark or of being alone with me?” he teased, his voice deep and sexy, almost melting her anxious vibes.
“I’m never afraid when I’m with you.”
“That’s what I like to hear, baby. You always know how to please me.”
She loved the way he talked to her, as if she were his equal though he was older and much more mature than the high school boys she’d dated back home. The sloppy kisses of teenage boys never thrilled her the way his did. She’d never melted at their touch.
He killed the motor, then stretched his arm across the back of the seat and slipped it around her shoulders. “This is a favorite place of mine when I need to get away,” he said.
“Really? It seems so isolated.”
“I see it as private and a little forbidden,” he said, “but if it makes you nervous, I can drive back into town.”
“No. I don’t want to go back,” she answered quickly.
All she’d been able to think about for the past two days was seeing him again. She craved his touch and the way her body came alive when he slid his hands beneath her blouse or when he slipped his tongue inside her mouth.
Unfortunately, their making out had been limited to what they could manage in the back seat of his sports car parked behind a sleazy bar in a part of town she hadn’t known existed until a few nights ago. Even then she’d wanted more, but he’d held back. He’d wanted to wait until everything was right.
They’d met last Saturday night when Elizabeth had been out with a girlfriend who lived in Metairie. Her friend Melinda had managed to snare fake IDs for both of them before Elizabeth had flown to New Orleans to visit her great-aunt for spring break.
Melinda had already been tipsy by the time Elizabeth noticed the hunk of a man staring at her. He nodded when they made eye contact but didn’t approach them. When he smiled and left the bar, she followed him outside.
One hello in his deep, sexy voice and she was certain he was the most gorgeous and exciting man she’d ever met. She’d whispered her phone number into his ear as he opened the door to his black sports car.
He’d called the very next day. She’d thought of nothing but him since then.
He wasn’t driving the sports car tonight, but a mud-encrusted pickup truck more suitable for the terrain. He pulled a flashlight from the truck’s console and flicked it on as he climbed from behind the wheel. He reached behind the driver’s seat and picked up what appeared to be a blanket.
Her pulse went crazy. Spring break was almost over. She’d be flying back to Tulsa on Sunday and might never see him again. Her heart would surely break but how much worse would it be if she didn’t have this time with him tonight to treasure?
Complete privacy. And a blanket. They were surely going to make love. It would be the first time for her to go all the way. He would be experienced. He’d teach her all she needed to know.
He walked around the truck, opened her door and took her hand. She quivered in anticipation, ready for this in every way.
Aunt Ella still thought of Elizabeth as a kid and constantly warned her to be careful. As much as Elizabeth had hated lying to her tonight, she’d had no choice.
If her great-aunt could see her now, she’d be horrified. She would tell Elizabeth she was tempting disaster. The thought intensified Helena’s anxiety.
“Okay. I can tell you’re not ready,” he said, dropping her hand. “I obviously misread the signs.”
“You didn’t,” she assured him. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be than here with you.” That much was true.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, she stepped out of the truck. The earth was damp, sucking like quicksand. The grass was almost to her knees, hiding anything that might be crawling beneath it. Like snakes. Or tarantulas.
He put a thumb beneath her chin and nudged until she faced him. He leaned over and his lips met hers. Desire pummeled her as heated juices seeped into the silky red panties she’d worn just for him.
She’d be a fool to do anything to spoil this moment. He wasn’t the man of her dreams. She’d never had dreams this good.
They walked for ten minutes or more, dodging spreading palmetto fronds, clumps of reeds and the exposed roots of cypress trees until they reached the slippery bank of a murky bayou.
The moon finally peeked from behind the clouds, providing enough illumination that he turned off the flashlight. A few yards farther and he took a different path, not stopping until they reached a slightly higher and dryer area. He dropped her hand and her insides quaked as he spread the blanket.
He kicked out of his shoes and lay down on his side, his right elbow supporting