Shutting off the engine, she turned to him. “Ready for a good soaking?”
“No one in this town seems to carry an umbrella, no matter that it rains without a moment’s notice on a regular basis.”
“A little rain never hurt anyone.”
“Watch it, princess—you’re speaking to a Scotsman. We know rain.”
“Well, I’m no Southern belle who will melt in the rain, either. I’m a Creole woman, and we’re a whole different kind of South. And does this really have to be a competition?”
Duff arched one dark eyebrow. “Apparently it does. But again, marks on the ledger, missy.”
She shook her head to hide her pinking cheeks. “Okay. Fine. Whatever.”
Before he had a chance to realize what she was doing, she clicked out of her seat belt and bolted from the car, her keys grasped in her hand. The rain was a hard pelt against her skin as she ran, laughing—then laughing even harder when Duff caught her around the waist, lifting her off her feet and hauling her to the covered patio of the café before setting her down.
“Oh my God—you’re such a damn caveman.”
Duff was wiping the rain from his eyes with the back of his hand. “I like to think of myself more as a noble knight responding to a damsel in distress.”
“Is that why you call me ‘princess’?”
“Nope.”
She shook the rain from her hair. “Why, then?”
He moved in close, then closer, until he had his hands around her waist and was whispering in her ear. “Because I plan to treat you like a princess. To play you like a princess, the way you need to be played. And then I plan to fuck you like a princess. Like the dirtiest princess ever born. Like it was a fucking royal proclamation. Because in my mind, it is.”
“Jesus, Duff.”
She didn’t know if she was mad or madly turned on. But when he leaned in and kissed her, all question was erased from her mind. All she knew was their lips cool with rain, warming up so fast her mouth tingled with the heat. Then her body followed suit as he pulled her in, his arms tight around her. And nothing had ever seemed this sexy—no memory. No moment. No man.
He kept one hand on her waist—that was all he needed to span her lower back—and with the other he smoothed his palm over her shoulder, sliding it into her hair and clasping the back of her neck. And all the while his mouth was working magic on her—lips and tongue and even his teeth as he nibbled here and there.
Sighing, she let her body sort of fall against his. And sighed again as her breasts came into contact with a wall of solid muscle, as her hips pressed against the growing erection under his rough jeans—then moaned when he yanked her in hard, growling into her mouth. She swore she could feel it in her throat, that primal growl. Knew the animal hunger that was him. Feeding her hunger. Feeding her—something inside her she hadn’t known was there. And she didn’t care how foolish it was to think these things. She shut her brain down and simply felt, fell into the moment while the cool rain fell all around them.
He groaned and pushed her back, one step at a time, until she was up against one of the pale brick pillars. And then he started to pinch her. One small pinch on the outside of her thigh. Another at the curve of her waist. Another on the inside of her forearm. It didn’t even hurt much, but it made her understand on some nearly cellular level his authority over her, that this was exactly who he was. No put-on. No grandstanding. The man who was kissing her like a demon was truly the most dominant human being she’d ever met. And every inch of flesh, everything in her, wanted him. Craved him. Was nearly screaming for him.
Her thighs shook as need washed over her, stinging in her sex, her nipples.
Fucking want him. Now. Now, now, now.
The doors to the café swung open and a young couple walked out.
“Oh, pardon us.”
Duff pulled his mouth from hers, flashing them a grin over his shoulder. His hard-on was still pressed tightly against her. “Sure, no problem, friends.”
The couple hurried away, and despite the sharp arousal rattling her system—or maybe because of it—Layla had to laugh.
“I like how you assured them you weren’t bothered by them walking out of the café, like they’d done something wrong.”
He grunted. “They interrupted us, lovely.”
Reaching up, she patted his cheek. “Poor Duff.”
He smacked her ass. “Poor you, if you keep up with the smart mouth, princess.”
“I’m sure I can handle whatever you dish out.”
He pulled back and arched one dark brow, his hazel eyes glinting in the light from the café. “Are you, now? We’ll have to see about that. Your stamina and tolerance as a bottom have yet to be tested. Not by me, at any rate. Come to mind, we’ve yet to discuss when our first playdate will be.”
“Given the last few minutes I sort of thought it had already started.”
“Mere warm-up. Why don’t we have that talk inside? I smell beignets and my belly wants some.”
She had to shake her head again. Duff could certainly amuse her. Amuse her, confuse her, make her body rage with desire. If only he would stay right there and go back to kissing her and pinching her and making her feel like a bottom.
“I suppose I’d better feed you. I imagine a man of your size needs plenty of fuel.”
“That’s right. I eat bears for breakfast and pretty girls like you for supper.”
She reached up and gave his shoulder a small, playful shove. “You going to start beating your chest now?”
“I just might.” He stepped back and grabbed her hand. “Better not risk it,” he said with a wink, pulling her inside.
They stepped through the inner glass-paned double doors and into the café, the scents of sugar and chicory coffee wafting on the warm air.
“I love that this place never changes,” she said.
“That seems to be true of many places in this city.”
“It is. We try to preserve the old architecture and the feel of the city wherever we can. Our history is important. Maybe even more so since Katrina, in some ways.”