Page 14 of Bootleg Love

I tuck Simone's hand into the crook of my elbow, the gesture both gentlemanly and protective. "Come darling. Let's get you home before someone else decides to crash our party."

We stroll through the lamp-lit streets of the French Quarter, the romance of the evening tempered by the lingering shadow of our mystery voyeur. I keep a watchful eye on the shifting shadows, my free hand never straying far from the hilt of my gun.

10

SIMONE

Auguste guides me up the narrow staircase, the heavy tread of his boots echoing off the walls. The wood is dark and worn beneath my hand, polished by the passage of countless souls seeking solace or sin in the rooms above.

We emerge into his private sanctum, and I'm instantly entranced. The room is a treasure trove, every surface layered with exotic curios and strange artifacts. Tattered maps and faded daguerreotypes adorn the walls, hinting at adventures past. Jewel-toned Persian rugs sprawl across the floor, their patterns dizzyingly intricate. Everywhere I turn, my eyes catch on something marvelous - a brass astrolabe, a carved ivory tusk, a frayed scrap of brocaded silk.

It's as if Auguste has built himself a nest woven from stolen souvenirs of the world beyond New Orleans. Each piece whispers of far-off lands and daring exploits, of a life lived in defiance of boundaries and constraints.

I trail my fingers reverently along the edge of a lacquered side table, marveling at the play of light over its glossy surface. "These are incredible," I breathe. "Where did you find them all?"

Auguste's eyes are soft as they meet mine, his lips quirked in a wistful half-smile.

"Everywhere and nowhere, chere. When you've lived as long as I have, you become a magpie, collecting glittering fragments to line your bower."

"We're cursed, you know," he murmured, his breath a feather-light caress against her cheek. "Destined to remain in New Orleans, tethered to her shadows and secrets."

Simone turned to him, her violet eyes searching his face. "But why? Surely there must be a way to break free?"

A wry smile tugged at the corner of his sensual mouth. "If there is, I haven't found it. Not for lack of trying." He brushes a tumble of raven curls back from my shoulder, his thumb grazing my rapidly fluttering pulse at the base of my throat.

"We are both caged birds, you and I," he murmurs, coming up behind me. "Cursed to remain in this haunted city, bound by the sins of our fathers."

I turn to face him, my breath catching at the intensity in his golden eyes. "Then we must make a paradise of our prison," I whisper.

The earthy scent of his skin floods my senses, awakening something wild within me.

"What are you going to do to me?" I whisper, both aroused and unnerved by the intensity.

His calloused hand cups my cheek and I lean into his touch, eyelids fluttering closed.

When his lips meet mine, heat rushes through my veins. I open for him and our tongues dance, passion rising swift and fierce. "Claiming what's mine," he growls against my lips.

Candlelight plays over the rumpled silk coverlet as he lays me down, never breaking our kiss.

His bitterness is a living thing, throbbing between us. I want to soothe it, to draw out the poison and leave only sweetness behind. Rising on my tiptoes, I capture his lips with my own, my tongue flicking out to taste the hint of whiskey and smoke.

He groans into my mouth. The counterpane is slippery beneath me as I fall back onto the mattress, Auguste following me down. Our mouths slide together, wet and messy and desperate, as we work to rid each other of clothes suddenly too confining.

I gasp as his lips close over the sensitive skin of my throat, his teeth nipping and tongue laving. Fire sizzles through my veins, and I arch up into him, needing more contact, more friction. He's everywhere - kissing, licking, stroking - until I'm mindless with sensation.

He slides one hand down my thigh, hitching it up around his hip and pulling me closer. I can feel the heat of him through our clothes, and I writhe against him, desperate for more contact.

His fingers find the buttons on the back of my dress, slowly undoing them one by one. His lips never leave mine as he works, his tongue tracing the curve of my lower lip as I gasp at the sensation of cool air against my bare skin.

Finally, the dress falls away, pooling at my feet like a dark cloud. I stand before him in my undergarments, feeling vulnerable and exposed but also incredibly alive. His eyes rake over my body, devouring every inch of me with his gaze.

"You're even more beautiful than I imagined," he whispers, his voice ragged with desire.

He reaches out to trace a finger along the edge of my corset, lingering on the laces that bind me. I shiver at his touch, my body aching for him. Without a word, he begins to undo the laces, loosening the corset until it falls away, leaving me in nothing but my chemise.

Auguste's hands are on me again, caressing and exploring every inch of my exposed skin.

He slides one hand up to cup my breast, his thumb rubbing circles around my nipple until it pebbles beneath the thin fabric of my chemise. I moan at the sensation, my hips rocking against him as I seek delicious friction.

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