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Let the Dark Seduce You...
CAJUN HOT by Nikita Black
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In the primitive wilds of the South Louisiana
swamps, the hot-blooded Cajun Cherchat brothers take lost
photographer Sahara Jensen captive, planning to use her
soft, warm flesh for their—and her—sexual pleasure.
But when one of them unwittingly falls in love with the
woman, who then is the captor, and who is really the prisoner...?
ISBN 0977426912
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2001
Dorothy Parker Award of Excellence
2001 Write Touch Readers Award
2000 Rising Star Award
"There's
nothing to describe this book, it's in a class all it's
own. VERY RARE FIND! Gold Star."
— Kathy
Boswell for Raves and Faves
"Nikita
Black is sizzling her way to erotica romance stardom! Her
books take you away on a delicious erotic fantasy ride!"
— Suzanne
Coleburn for The Belles and Beaux of Romance
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Excerpt
"God, that was better than sex, Jacque."
At Sahara's comment, he paused in his dinner
clean-up and grinned broadly.
Quint nearly choked. "Now, I agree,
Jacque here makes the bes' gumbo east or west of the Atchafalaya
River. But chère, I mean to say, if you think dis is better'n
sex, you been wit' the wrong men."
She giggled and took another sip of wine.
"What's your secret, Jacque?" She looked right at him,
her eyes all innocent and curious. He was tempted to sweep the rest
of the dishes off the table and show her right there.
Later, Chat.
"My tongue," he said, coming
to a halt beside her. "The tongue is the secret—"
He shouldn't. He really shouldn't. But
her little surprised intake of breath clinched it. He leaned down,
inches from her face and paused until knowledge of what he was about
to do flashed through her pretty blue eyes. Slowly, he extended
his tongue, and flicked it over her bottom lip.
Inwardly he moaned. Dieu, she tasted good.
"—da tongue is the secret to both cookin' and makin'
love."
Her succulent lips parted, sudden apprehension
battling with hot desire in her expression. He wanted more, but
it was too soon.
He straightened and picked up her empty
plate. He almost lost his own battle when he realized her robe had
gaped open, giving him a fine view of her plump breast, her nipple
pert and taut. He made himself walk to the sink instead of taking
her in his mouth and suckling till she begged for what they both
really wanted.
She swallowed and looked at her glass,
making an admirable attempt at pretending what had just happened
hadn't happened at all. But she knew. They all did. The electricity
arcing between the three of them could power the cabin for a year.
He glanced at Quint. The man was actually sweating, and he'd bet
half his stock options it wasn't because the gumbo was too spicy.
"Cajun Hot?"
Jacque snapped his eyes to Sahara and narrowed
them. How had she found out?
"Is that what you used for the gumbo?
I thought I recognized the flavor..." Her words faded as he
continued to stare at her. "Guess not."
He pulled himself together. Non, she couldn't
know about him. She was just asking about spices.
"Yeah, it's Cajun Hot. It's all I ever
use. Got a cupboard full of the stuff. Every spice and sauce they
make."
Hell, now her other breast was visible.
He dumped the dishes in the sink and grabbed
the espresso pot from the stove. Not that he needed the caffeine.
He just needed something to occupy his hands.
"Me, too. Cajun Hot is great. Yep,
the man who came up with those sauces, he's really got a tongue
on him."
The robe gaped wider.
Quint grinned. "Mais non,
dat Cajun, he probably burned off his taste buds years ago."
Jacque dead-panned his smirking brother.
"Bien amusant." He poured espressos all around,
lingering over Sahara's cup and the incredible view above it. Tortueux—pure
torture.
His eyes met Quint's over her head and
he nodded imperceptibly. He couldn't take it a minute longer. He'd
been hard for so long he ached.
Understanding immediately, Quint smiled.
"So, Chat," he said casually, "you got any dessert
for us?"
Jacque put down the coffee pot and slowly
shook his head. His cock danced in anticipation. "Non.
Rien—not a thing."
"Nothin'? No pie?"
Again, he shook his head.
"Or maybe a li'l bitty piece of peach
cobbler?"
He glanced at Sahara, her breasts tantalizingly
framed by the gap in the robe. Did she have any idea what she was
doing to them? His mouth watered. "Sorry."
"Now dat's a damn shame. Me, I could
really go for somethin'. Somethin' hot an' real sweet."
"Mm-hmm. Somethin' that would go down
nice an' easy," he agreed. His imagination spun at the image.
They looked at each other, letting the
silence lengthen. Sahara glanced nervously between them. The pink
tip of her tongue poked out and swiped over her lips. He wanted
that tongue on him. All over him.
"Well, then," he said quietly,
anticipation all but making him burst. "I guess there's only
one thing to do..."
They both set their sights on Sahara, hotly,
expectantly. Excitement flooded his body, headed straight for his
cock.
"Looks like dessert's gonna be you,
chère."
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