Bayou Bad Boy Read online

  BAYOU BAD BOY

  By

  Sophia del Fuego

  Copyright 2011 by Linda Campbell

  Published by Dark Hallows Publishing

  2011 All Rights Reserved

  ISBN: 978-1-937432-01-0

  CHAPTER ONE

  Sam Thibodeaux could bang out a job in no time. Too bad it wasn’t the job he wanted to bang. The only thing Hannah Mattay wanted him to do was her master bedroom and bath. He had other ideas. He gazed down her body and ached to fondle those ripe curves right there in aisle fourteen of Home Depot. She bent and her short jeans skirt rode up along a long tantalizing thigh until a bit of a black, lacy panties peeked out from beneath the skirt’s edge. He swallowed hard. A trickle of sweat rolled down his back as he fought his cock’s reaction. With his erection ready to play before he could blink, it was hard to focus on reality instead of creamy, vanilla flesh and lace.

  He cleared his throat.

  “Oh, hi, Sam,” she said with an innocent glance over her shoulder.

  Her chocolate brown eyes floored him almost as much as the view of her lace panties. Damn, at this rate, he’d need an hour before he got his hard-on under control.

  “So many sizes of screws to choose from; how do I know which ones I need?” she muttered.

  He cleared his throat. With an internal wince, he squatted beside her and hid adjusting himself by seeming to fidget with his tool belt. “Size is determined by the job, chère.”

  “I’m not sure what I need. Charlie gave me a list, but I forgot it at home.” She flashed him a weak smile. “All I remember is they shouldn’t be too long or too short, either, and it needs to have the right kind of head.”

  His cock twitched. “This is for your deck repairs, right?” At her nod, he inhaled her scent, wild jasmine with a touch of musk, and tried to ignore his balls tightening and his cock thickening. He was in deep trouble here and worked to stay on the practical issue of Hannah’s project. “Single slot works best.”

  “Oh. Are the connections hammered in?”

  “Definitely screws for a power screw.” Merde, now he was speaking in inane dialogue. “You also need some good wood.”

  She slanted a glance at his groin. “Right, nice and straight, not warped. Could you help me? I mean—” She licked her lips again. “—the deck needs to be fixed before you and the crew start work Monday and I’m not good at power tools and getting into unusual positions. Unless you could show me?”

  His eyes narrowed at the laughter he saw in her gaze. Not good? Merde! No doubt, she would be excellent at the skills he taught her. He was also confident she thought the same thing. She had been screwing with his mind, and libido, for the last six months. Now in the heat of late July, he was ready to do the nailing along with some screwing with a definite application of power.

  He stood and helped her up. Not able to resist, his fingertips lightly stroked her cheek. “Ah, chère. I’ll get the supplies and repair the deck and in turn, you can make me dinner tonight.”

  “Six o’clock?”

  Finally, an end in sight. His mouth turned up in what women called his wicked smile. At the bright gleam in her eyes, Sam fought the urge to brush a kiss across her lips right there in the hardware aisle. He glanced at his watch. Yes, he could wait four hours. “Bon, don’t worry about the materials. I’ll get everything I’ll need.”

  ***

  Sam Thibodeaux’s drawl of “chère,” had almost fractured Hannah’s tenuous grip on her lust right there in the superstore aisle filled with nails and screws. She groaned aloud in her car just remembering his voice and glanced around the parking lot for witnesses. Thank the good Lord she had parked out in the boondocks.

  She grabbed her finger vibrator from her purse, slid her fingers beneath her skirt and thong, and flicked it on. Her clit was already swollen thanks to Sam and her overactive imagination. Her head fell back against the seat as her moan escalated into a scream, she managed to bite back with her lower lip clenched between her teeth. The orgasm was good. Not nearly as good as the images in her mind of Sam’s cock providing her release, but it would have to do.

  She sagged in the seat with one more furtive glance around. She was chemistry teacher, not a sex addict. This obsession was a branch of ‘chemistry’ that was really overblown biology perplexed her. What she did comprehend was that lust had consumed her for over a year. In the beginning, all she acknowledged was a tall, dark-haired, handsome man with powerful strong shoulders that tapered to a perfect...well, ass. Yes, definitely a great ass. She spent the first two months fantasizing about slowly stripping off his shirt and then ridding him of those jeans. And that was all he had on, because in her fantasy, there was nothing beneath those jeans but hot, hard Sam.

  That’s when she had started buying her toys.

  Now, four months later, she could practically open her own store. Blessedly, the hot, humid Louisiana summer hit and he had removed his shirt. Fantasy to reality. Who knew the heat could be such a Godsend. For the first time in her life, she climaxed just seeing him through her front room window.

  Hyperventilating from the recollection, Hannah gripped the steering wheel, her knuckles white as she tried to control her reaction. His hips were so slim she thought his jeans would slide right off. That’s when she discovered he didn’t wear briefs or boxers. Muscled shoulders and a chiseled chest captured her living fantasy, finished off with rippling abs that were such the definition of a six-pack that she looked for the pull-tab. She’d was tempted to ask if he’d let her bounce a dime on those beautiful sculpted stomach muscles, then chickened out.

  It had cost her. During summer break, she was home while he worked across the street. The distraction of Sam kept her hot, horny, and in a perpetual state of lust limbo. Hot flashes of need consumed her days and cold showers ruled her life.

  That ended tonight. She had the toys she’d bought the first day she had seen him—even at a distance she knew she wanted him—and they were waiting in her bedroom along with another set hidden in the dining room. The man was good with tools. His life revolved around tools. Well, she had the tools for this job, now she needed the right formula to begin. If she handled it right, she might have him not just Friday night, but all weekend.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Red-hot heat enveloped Sam’s body. It started in his groin and flared to his stomach, hands, and behind his eyeballs. Hannah’s gaze always did that to him. He knew the moment she spotted him. His blood heated and headed south. He had become the joke of his crew, having gone from hardhat Sam to rock-hard Sam. Blue balls had lost by one vote, and then only because he threatened to fire the lot of them. Not that he would, of course. Each one was famille, so what could one do but endure their teasing?

  With a growl, he jammed his crowbar beneath the first rotted plank and jerked. Bits of wood splintered, practically dissolving under the pressure. The damned deck had been built with ungalvanized nails. Still, the treated wood shouldn’t have rotted like this. Hell, that Hannah hadn’t fallen through the flooring was a miracle. As the boards popped loose, he examined them. Except in specific, strategic areas, the wood was fine and the joists seemed solid. However, the worst sections almost looked burned.

  He glanced up, smiled, and waved at Hannah watching him from the kitchen window. He’d confirmed his suspicion that the minx had purposely trashed her deck as a pretext to getting him over here. Well, two could play games and he was about to up the ante.

  Time to prime the well. He stood and then pulled his t-shirt over his head, using it to wipe the sweat from his face and chest. Tossing the shirt over the railing, he returned to removing the damaged planks. Slowly. Granted, he felt a little like a Chippendales ad, but he didn’t care if it worked.

  The glass French doors off
the dining room creaked open. “Sam, would you like some iced tea or a cold Corona?”

  He lifted his head and met her gaze. “Tea for now, a beer after I finished. Do you mind if I shower before we eat? I have a clean set of clothes with me. Sure do hate to sit around in my sweat after a day of working.”

  “Oh, no, not at all. You have your choice of bathrooms. If you want, you can even use mine in the master bedroom.”

  Nodding, he flashed his big, bad wolf grin. She may have started this game, but he’d finish it. The duffle bag in his truck held more than just clothing. He’d brought along a mini toolkit for fun and games. After his shower, he’d investigate her bedroom. If he was right, his blushing Hannah wasn’t so demure and would richly deserve what he had in store for her. He planned to make certain she enjoyed the evening, and if he was lucky the entire weekend.

  A minute later, she was at his side with a frosty mug of sweet tea. His fingers brushed hers as he took it from her. Tingles of electricity arced between them. Merde, it had been like this from day one. How he had kept his hands off her until today still defeated him.

  She knelt beside him and poked at one of the planks. “Charlie said the problem with the deck was probably that the nails had rusted out. I guess that’s why he suggested I buy galvanized screws. I should’ve written down the exact materials. Sometimes I’m such a blonde.” She frowned, then beamed a huge smile at him. “Thanks, Sam, for coming to my rescue once again. I’m not sure what I would’ve done if you hadn’t.”

  Yes, Hannah was quite a tease. But he had her number now. He was more than prepared to come to her rescue, though he had no problem pushing her to the edge first. With the backs of his fingers, he caressed down her cheek to her neck. Keeping his gaze riveted to her brown eyes, he slid his fingers over her breast and tweaked the hard bud of her nipple as he brushed her lips with his. Her shallow pants graced his lips, a confirmation that her arousal was exactly where he needed it to be. “Good thing you didn’t have to find out.”

  Her face reddened to a lovely shade of pink.

  “Umm, I’d better get the salad made. You can grill the steaks after you’ve showered.”

  With a grin, he watched her sashay into the house. Deck first, shower, then dessert. Steaks, bah, who wanted beef when he could have a beautiful, luscious woman to feast on?

  ***

  Waves of aching arousal shot through Hannah in desperate need of Sam’s touch to be quenched. Every time he had touched her hand, forearm, and today, her cheek, it got worse. At first she wanted to wooing, kisses, and tender seduction and foreplay. Now she’d settle for a quick encounter on the kitchen table just so they could make it up the stairs for something longer. She’d seen him a year ago supervising the renovation at Savoi High School, where she taught. He hadn’t spotted her, which was good because she had been a drooling idiot after her first glance with even the mention of his name. From that momentous day, she and her vibrating dildo had become best friends, which was good, because her situation was hopeless.

  Sam Thibodeaux was known for being the bayou bad boy, in the best possible way. Every woman who ever mentioned his name did so with a sigh. She doubted one night with him would be enough. No. She shook her head. Having lusted after him for over a year, of course, one night wouldn’t satisfy her. A night for every time she thought of him or had to fulfill her needs alone because of him—four hundred twenty-two days, eight hours, fifty-three minutes and counting.

  But if one night was all she got, then she’d make each second count.

  Hannah wrapped her arms around herself and stifled a groan as she tiptoed into her bedroom. He was in her shower, using her soap, her shampoo, maybe even her razor. Nah, he would keep that sexy, five o’clock shadow. It didn’t matter, just the thought of rubbing the same bar of soap over her body later made her tremble. As the water pounded down, she heard him singing I’m Too Sexy and almost didn’t catch the giggle that bubbled up in her throat. Damn straight, he was. In her all fantasies, he left the shower, yanked her back against his damp, hard chest as his engorged cock slipped between her butt cheeks, rubbing her aching clit.

  With a hitched breath, she left her room and rushed into the guest bathroom to remove her bra and panties. Then she smoothed her clothing, avoiding her sensitive nipples pressing against her scoop-necked t-shirt.

  Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to remove her panties. Granted, he’d have easy access to all the places she wanted him to explore, but the evidence of tightly wound arousal would be obvious as well. For a second, she felt a little vulnerable, then she heard the water stop pulsing through the pipes. Too late to change her mind now.

  Please, please, be as stunning a lover as you look.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Sam entered the kitchen. His heart stuttered through a couple extra beats. Beneath Hannah’s t-shirt, hardened nipples pebbled and the soft color of her areoles was visible through the soft, white cotton. The tension ratcheted through his body as the plump globes drew him like a moth to a candle. Between when he had finished the deck and now, she had removed her bra. There was an even chance that skimpy bit of lace thong was one less obstacle as well. Not that it would matter, he would just push it aside or snap the crotch. Nothing would come between him and Hannah’s sweet, hot pussy.

  His gaze met hers. Hunger radiated from her. Her gaze skimmed him, pausing on his bare chest, and lingering on his cock, now pressing painfully against his zipper. Her lips parted and she took a shallow breath. Sam held back a chuckle, and forced himself not to move to shift his erection. If she wanted to look, he was happy to let her. The more he teased her, the tighter she would be wound when he went to work coaxing orgasms from her delicious body. “Forgot to put a clean shirt in my duffle. Will this bother you?”

  His question brought her gaze from his crotch to his chest with a faint flush of embarrassment. “No problem. Are you hungry?”

  He smiled at her breathless voice, then allowed himself the same liberty she’d taken. His gaze appraised the way her tight jean skirt smoothed over her luscious hips and blossomed in the most incredible manner over thighs a manner dive between in pleasure.. He didn’t bother to hide his low grumble of satisfaction. “Very hungry. Starved. Been four months since I ate—”

  “The coals should be ready. I’d better put the steaks on.”

  She turned after cutting him off to open the refrigerator door, but her shaking like a teenager on her first date gave away her nervousness.

  Ah, chère, you’re in good hands with me.

  Sam inhaled the faint, lingering scent of jasmine from her perfume. Strange how none of his crew noticed it, but it haunted him even in his dreams. He could identify it she was within a fifty-foot radius of him. No one else used that perfume. Or perhaps it just smelled different on Hannah added to the sweet scent of her lust. He moved behind her, his arms wrapping around her as he pulled her back against him. The door slid closed, his hand resting on it. “The steaks can wait, chère, I can’t.”

  He nuzzled her neck where her pulse raced under his lips and then spun her toward him and wedged them against the door. Her legs wobbled, but she wasn’t in danger of falling while he held her. “Ah, chère, we’re finally together. Are you ready to have some fun?”

  She threaded her fingers through the damp hair at his neck. Her passionate, wide-eyed, chocolate stare took his breath away. “Fun, yes, but what kind, Sam?”

  What a minx. He’d done a little investigating before his shower and discovered her stash. Except for the dildos, everything else was new and untested. She even had some things that had surprised him. It seemed his teach enjoyed adventure. “You like games?” Her yes was a slight puff of air against his lips. “You been thinking o’ them, chère. How ‘bout we take out some of your toys and play?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “You were snooping in my drawers?”

  “In the drawers of your dresser, oui, not the drawers I love. So, c’mon, chère, so let’s play.”

  Hannah stepped
back. She was supposed to be in charge. This was her fantasy. “I’m not sure I like that.”

  His big, callused hands cupped her bare butt. “Ah, chère, those toys give control to me. I think that’s exactly what you like and that’s ‘xactly what I plan to give you.”

  Her eyes widened at his bluntness and thickening Cajun accent. Unprepared for his next assault as he lifted her, she instinctively wound her legs around his waist with a tiny gasp. “What’s the plan?”

  He winked, loosened his grip just enough so that she slid a bit down, the sensitive swell between her thighs now resting against his thick erection.

  The cold marble of the kitchen island shocked her heated bottom as he set her on its edge. With one hand, he pulled off her top and tossed it atop the table in the eating area. In less than two seconds, he’d shoved her skirt to her waist and stepped out of his jeans. With a wicked grin, he reached for her tall bottle of EVOO, fitted with a pour spout. “Ah, then maybe you like this. Extra virgin—that you? Or maybe a little less than extra virgin, oui?” He paused, his large hand hovering beside it, then lifting the small purple, crystal bottle almost hidden behind the olive oil. “How ‘bout we try some o’ Mama Cezelia’s special oil instead?”

  “Yes.”

  One brow rose as his lips lifted in a devious smile. “She made this jus’ for you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Ah, chère, we have a good time, oui?” He lifted one of her legs, resting her foot on his chest, and drizzled a narrow lined of her secret oil from her foot to her thigh. With a grunt of satisfaction, he placed the bottle back on the counter and started swirls of decadent heat with his fingers on her leg.

  Hannah took a deep breath, partially to keep herself from floating away under Sam’s ministrations and also because she loved this scent. It was made just for her with its top note of spicy jasmine followed by a mid-note of cinnamon with a nice woody cedar rounding it out. It reminded her of her fantasies of Sam—long, summer nights in her bedroom overlooking the bayou, the slow moving ceiling fan caressing her with soft breezes, and her lover’s calloused hands igniting all her secret spots.