Who Do, Voodoo?, page 24
“What’s that she’s playing with?” Nick said as I leaned back on his chest with my head on his shoulder.
The kitten tossed the pouch into the air, then scuttled after it.
Dilemma. I was either going to tell Nick the truth or tell him a more reasonable, less embarrassing lie. I respected him too much to lie. No, it was more than that; I liked him. Actually, I was falling for him. Get real, I thought, I had already fallen for him too hard to lie. “It’s the pouch from a lust gris-gris Madame Iyå sold me,” I said.
He put his chin on top of my head and stroked my cheek with the back of his hand. Then he kissed his way down the side of my head to my ear. “Did it work?”
His soft, warm lips at the crook of my neck sent a light, dizzy shiver through my body. “Not sure,” I whispered, with my lips on his forehead.
We watched Erzulie nudge the pouch next to Nick’s foot, where she sat straight up, waiting for attention.
“What do you want, kitten?” Nick said.
That little trollop answered by falling onto her back with her legs spread open and her chest exposed.
“I think the gris-gris may have worked for her,” I said.
Nick shifted me around and lightly kissed me. Then he kissed me. Then he really, really kissed me with a hunger that shot a sweet bolt of heat through my body.
“What about you?” he said between kisses, brushing back my hair.
“The gris-gris was meant for you, not me.” I could barely catch my breath. I tasted his lips on mine, pulling me in.
“Then you wasted your money.”
“Did I?”
“I’m way past lust.”
“You are?” My words barely made it out as he slid his warm hand under my T-shirt and up the flesh of my back. With a flick of his fingers, my bra was undone. Oh my. I pushed him back and sat up. My equilibrium was gone.
Nick folded his arms and watched me pull off my boots. I flung my socks across the room. Erzulie picked up the chase. I stood up.
“Come on,” I said, holding my hand out to him.
“Where are we going?” Nick smiled.
“Upstairs.”
“To dance?”
“Oh yes.”
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Rochelle Staab, Who Do, Voodoo?
