Burn For You

9

“I’m fine,” she rasped, waving me away. “I’m just a little dry, chère, I need a glass of—”

A second round of coughing stole her words and bent her in half at the waist.

As I started to panic, the Colonel went to her other side and gently rubbed her back. “Easy, now, Davina, just take it easy, girl,” he said softly. He glanced up and met my gaze.

I knew from his look that this coughing fit wasn’t the first she’d had today. My body went cold. What was she hiding from me?

I rushed to the sink and poured water from the tap into a glass. My hand shook when I offered it to her.

“Thank you, baby,” she said weakly after she’d swallowed it. “That’s better.”

I sat across from her again. Her skin had taken on an unhealthy ashen hue, and little beads of perspiration glistened at her hairline. Like mine, her hands were trembling.

I might not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but something about this smelled bad enough to gag a maggot.

I looked my mother straight in the eye and said firmly, “Mama. You better spit out the truth right now or I’m gonna cream your corn, as Daddy used to say. What did Doc Halloran really tell you about that cough?”

Something crossed her face. It was an expression I’d never seen my vibrant, carefree, and confident mother wear—an awful mix of resignation, sadness, and, worst of all, fear.

When she said quietly, “Owen, would you please give us a moment?” all the tiny hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.

The Colonel gently kissed my mother’s head. “Of course, Davina.” He squeezed her shoulders, shot me a worried look, and left, quiet as a kitchen mouse.

Then my mother gathered my hands in hers and started to talk, but I only heard a single word. A word that made my heart stop beating and my soul bleed.

Cancer.

CREOLE SHRIMP AND GRITS

Makes 4 servings

· 4 cups water

· 1 cup stone-ground grits

· 3 tablespoons butter

· 2 cups shredded sharp cheddar cheese

· 1 pound raw shrimp, peeled and deveined

· 6 slices bacon, chopped

· 4 teaspoons lemon juice

· 2 tablespoons fresh parsley, chopped

· 1 cup scallions, sliced

· 1 clove garlic, minced

· kosher salt

· freshly ground pepper

Preparation

1. In stockpot, bring water to a boil. Reduce heat to simmer, add grits, salt, and pepper, and cook until water is absorbed, about 20 minutes.

2. Remove from heat and stir in butter and cheese.

3. Fry the bacon in a large skillet until browned. Remove to paper towels, drain well, and chop.

4. Rinse shrimp and pat dry. Add into bacon grease and cook until shrimp turn pink. Do not overcook.

5. Add lemon juice, chopped bacon, parsley, scallions, and garlic, and sauté for 3 minutes.

6. Spoon cooked grits into serving bowls. Add shrimp mixture on top. Serve immediately.

FIVE

JACKSON

The feel of her warm, full lips around the head of my c**k made me moan.

“f**k yes,” I whispered, looking down at her. “Don’t stop.”

Beautiful, dark eyes stared up at me as she opened her lips wider and took me down her throat. My pelvis flexed of its own will, sending my hard c**k even deeper into the wet heat of her mouth.

So f*****g good. Christ. So good.

Naked, on her knees between my legs on the bed, she wrapped one hand around my shaft while the other gently fondled my balls.

I was out of my mind with pleasure.

Moaning again, I cupped her head in my hands and started to slowly f**k her mouth, careful not to go too fast, timing my thrusts with the stroke of her hand, the bob of her head. When she squeezed just under the engorged crown and lingered there, sucking and licking like a kitten with a bowl of cream, a shudder ran through my body.

“Oh, you like that,” she whispered playfully. “Let’s find out what else you like.”

Releasing my c**k, she rose and straddled my hips, smiling down at me. My hands encircled her small waist. She reached down and grabbed my stiff c**k again, and then began to slide it slowly between her legs, over and around her wet folds, rolling her hips, teasing me. I let her play and slid my hands up to her breasts.

She gasped when I pinched her n*****s.

She had perfect t**s, round and full but not too big, the weight of them lush and feminine in my hands. I sat up and sucked a rosebud n****e into my mouth, loving the sound of her soft groan as my tongue circled the hard bud. She arched into my mouth, her fingers still lazily stroking my erection.

I bit down gently on her n****e, and she gasped again.

Something about that sound made me feel like an animal. Like a powerful, hungry animal. Suddenly I desperately needed to be inside her.

With a low snarl, I flipped her onto her back. She lay there, blinking up at me with wide eyes, her lips parted, panting softly, a beautiful flush all over her chest. Her dark hair spread wild over the pillow. Her bare skin gleamed in the low light, a rich golden hue like poured honey.

I’d never seen anything as f*****g perfect in my entire life.

“Jax,” she breathed.

Her thighs were clasped around my hips, slightly trembling. I pressed forward, flexing my pelvis, finding her soft and open, ready for me. She arched her back and slid her arms around my shoulders. Her eyelids drifted closed as I pushed slowly into the heaven of her tight, wet p***y.