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  • The Latticed Gate Ch. 01

The Latticed Gate Ch. 01

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and situations are used fictitiously. Any similarities to persons living or dead (unless explicitly noted), events, or locales are merely coincidental.

Waking up this morning in her bed at her apartment on St. Anne Street in the Quarter, Elle stood at the doorway of her guest room and stared at the curled up body lying in the queen bed. Lacy, her best friend and former college roommate from UCLA had flown to New Orleans with her last night after the closing of her art show in Los Angeles. They were looking forward to the two weeks that Lacy would be visiting since they rarely could get their schedules together to spend any real quality girl-time, and Elle was in desperate need of her girl time! Her dream this morning was pretty much the same one she had been having since she met Jake Chevalier just a few weeks ago. If she hadn't fucked him maybe she wouldn't have been so haunted by the memories.

* * * * * * *

From the outset, after their first date it was quite clear that Jake was a player! A serious player! Outwardly, he was stellar. Although he was forty with a respectable job and an affable demeanor, Elle, in her sexual escapades had tangled with enough 'bad boys' to know that Jake Chevalier was cut from that very distinctive fabric. She knew not to go out with him, she knew what to expect, but he was so damned fine! Suave, charming, broad and brawn; at six-four he towered nearly a foot over her 5'6" frame. He had a swarthy complexion, straight dark hair and deep blue eyes that he had inherited from his mixed French Creole parents. He was beautiful to look at and it made random women shamelessly flirt with him.

Shit, the first night they went out to dinner, he was bombarded with female attention and while he may have been having dinner with her, the way the women surrounding him, from the patrons, some with their own male dinner companions, to the hostesses and waitresses it was as if she was invisible and hadn't entered the restaurant with him at all! The hostess whom he seemed familiar with had slipped him her phone number, which he discreetly tucked into his pocket. Elle's eyes widened. Nor had she missed how his eyes met with their waitress' across the room, either.

Really?

She bounced back to her initial reservations and censored her emotions while limiting her words to light conversation only to pick at her food.

She was relieved when the dinner was over. He wanted the night to continue but feigning exhaustion she cut the date short and tried to put it behind her.

Jake Chevalier was just too pretty for his own good! She had no intention of being another notch on his belt, or to compete for his attention! Squelching her attraction, she buried herself in a new painting.

While her art style tended towards realism, from time-to-time she also liked to play with styles that fell more in alignment with the impressionist genre. But this one was straight up realism and quite sexually arousing. Her date with Jake had brought up desires within her and she found herself painting a French nobleman in a brothel disrobing in the presence of his favorite whore, whom she painted draped seductively across crimson bed covers completely nude.

Several days later, as Elle crossed Bourbon Street at Orleans, she saw Jake coming out of a shop. Hoping to go undetected, she walked in front of the Bourbon-Orleans Hotel and slipped inside hurrying to the women's restroom.

Her heart was pounding. Fuck! Why was she letting him have such an affect on her? He may be a pretty-boy, but he was no good, her internal voice admonished! Yet, her body was tingling with sensation; tingling with sexual arousal simply because she had glimpsed him!

After twenty minutes or so, she mustered the courage to leave the restroom. As she reached the hotel lobby, he was standing there, waiting for her.

Fuck!

"Why are you avoiding me?" Jake asked as his eyes seductively undressed her.

"What are you talking about?"

"You haven't returned my calls...and just now, you ran in here..."

"I ran in here because I needed to use the bathroom!" she spouted defensively. "And as for the calls...you need to back off..."

"What?" he appeared totally knocked off guard. Good, she thought, he needs to realize that he can't have everything he sees!

"I think you'd be better served if you call the woman that slipped you her number the other night at dinner."

"Elle..." he called her name so soft and sexy it sent feather-like fissures rumbling through her body. "Don't be like that...she's someone I used to know. I couldn't be rude and not take her number..."

Elle turned her head away, casting her brown eyes down. Suddenly, his fingertips were at her chin and he lifted her eyes to his. It was so subtle, so gentle and so sensual her female organ was sparking. Those blue eyes were probing her. Her breath became slightly heavy.

"I'm sorry it bothered you..."

She suddenly pulled her face from his grasp.

"I wasn't bothered!" she snapped. He grabbed her wrist.

"Come here..." he said all sexy and pulled her to one of the antique velvet French couches arranged in the empty lobby and they both sat. Her mouth tightened. "Stop being mad, you're overreacting..."

"Look," she suddenly perked up, "we don't know each other. You do what you want, I really could care less. I'm not involved..."

He slightly frowned and wet his bottom lip.

"Well," he finally spoke, "that's unfortunate..." he paused and his eyes suddenly twinkled. "...Because I have every intention of pursuing you..." he lifted a brow and awaited a response.

"Don't waste your time," she haughtily said.

"Why are you being so hard on me?"

"I'm not!"

"Prove it! Go out with me again?"

"No! You're a player! I'm not what you're looking for!"

"Cher," the Creole endearment rolled smoothly from his tongue. "You're exactly what I'm looking for..."

Too through, she tried to rise but he pulled her down keeping her in place. At his touch her body began tremoring. Shit, her body was refusing to get on board with her brain. If he would just take his hand away from her arm, she thought.

"Why are you trembling," he asked confused. "Are you afraid of me?"

"No...I just want to go!" He released his hold on her arm and sat back gesturing that she was free to do so. She did, leaving him seated and gazing after her.

The next time she saw him was at The Cat's Meow, a bar on Bourbon Street which was headlining a local performance by Dr. John, one of her favorite musicians. She had dressed for the occasion in a short, tight-fitting strapless black dress and short heeled sandals. With her hair falling to her waist, an ample amount of cleavage exposed, her long shapely legs crossed with both arms adorned with bracelets, she had been garnering looks all night.

The set had just ended, when Leslie, Elle's friend from high-school stood in front of her at the far end of the bar making a Hurricane.

"So Leslie, how long have you been working here?" Elle inquired.

"A little over three months..."

Suddenly a raucous crowd erupted at the front of the stage and it was only then that Elle noticed Jake surrounded by a bevy of women. He appeared easy-going bantering with them. Leslie sat the drink in front of Elle and followed her gaze until, she, too, was staring in his direction.

"Elle?" she called over the crowd. "Please tell me you haven't set those eyes on Mr. GQ?" she offered with a smirk.

"You know him?" Elle suddenly swung around to face her.

"Everyone knows Jake!"

"Everyone?"

"Yep," she said sort of reluctantly.

Elle studied her friend and allowed her eyes to fall back in the direction of Jake, who was presently being cornered by a young, blond.

"Do you know him?" Leslie asked.

"No...not really, we went out one time...he seems like a player and I'm not feeling that!"

"Good...because I'd venture to say he's sampled at least half of the pussies in here!" she laughed as Elle gasped.

"So this is a hangout for him?"

"A big one..."

Elle turned and focused her attention back on Jake. She was glad she hadn't let it go any further than their dinner date. It was obvious he was a glut for attention and she knew she'd never act like these women who were fawning over him like bitches in heat.

She turned her attention back to her drink and stared at Leslie who had moved to the opposite end of the bar. A man, mid-forties or so, nice physique with brown wavy hair and light eyes approached the empty stool next to her.

"Is anyone sitting here," he politely asked with a bit of a Southern drawl.

"No, go ahead," she offered turning her attention back to her drink.

"I missed the first set, was it good?"

"Excellent! You can never go wrong with Dr. John!"

"Agreed!" he paused. "Are you from here?"

"Yeah," she said, "born and raised."

"You look like a local...beautiful women down here..."

Elle merely smiled.

"I'm Chuck," he extended his hand. "From Memphis..." She lightly shook his hand.

"Elle."

"Elle..." he said enamored still holding her hand. "A beautiful name for a beautiful woman..."

Suddenly, Elle felt a hard squeeze on her shoulder and she was being pulled from the bar stool. When she looked up, it was Jake's angry eyes that were glaring at her.

"What are you doing?" she hissed.

"Come here..." he demanded.

"No!"

Suddenly Chuck stood.

"The lady doesn't want to go with you...maybe you should find one that's more willing?"

"Fuck off," Jake yelled, fire brimming from those blue eyes.

When Chuck appeared as if he wasn't going to back down, Elle extended a calming hand gesture towards him.

"It's okay...we know each other..." she looked at Chuck who reluctantly sat down.

Jake grabbed her upper arm and led her out onto the street.

She was furious.

"What the fuck? What was that about?" she yelled at him, no longer able to contain her anger.

"I'm taking you home," he said as he put his arm around her waist and pulled her close to him.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" she screamed at him and tried to pull away but his arm was tightly wound around her waist.

"Stop cursing," he gritted through tight lips.

"I do what I want!"

"You think so?" he asked as he dragged her up the street towards her apartment on St. Anne. "I'm not going to watch while you let some random hick hit on you like you're a common whore!"

She was so angered by his words, she elbowed his ribs hard. As he coiled forward she took off running towards her apartment. If she had just been able to take off her heels and run barefoot she might have outrun him, but just as her key opened the latticed gated entry to the downstairs courtyard he was pushing her inside. Her keys dropped to the ground as the gate clanked behind her and he suddenly had her pressed up against the damp inner walls of the bricked hallway.

"I was talking to him, you idiot! And why do you care what I do?"

"Because I respect you and I don't want any of these fucks putting their hands on you! And dressed like this that's all you mean to them...a good time!"

"So what! Maybe I want the same thing, asshole!" she snapped back as she tried to push the weight of his body off of her. At her words, his eyes went furiously tight as he roughly grabbed her wrists and pinned them over her head with one hand. It was only then that she realized how precarious the situation had become.

"Is that what you want, Elle?" His demeanor became dark as his free hand ran down the front of her dress and he pulled it down exposing her bra-less breasts. He pinched one of her nipples bitterly hard.

She squealed in pain.

"No..." she protested, but his mouth covered hers and suddenly his tongue was probing her while his slow hand continued roaming down her body until it slipped between her thighs and began to make its way up. His tongue surged in her mouth and entwined so softly with hers she moaned in satisfaction as her chest heaved with excitable arousal.

Her body began to tremble and the wet desire settled between her legs, already soiling her panties. He suddenly pulled his mouth from hers.

"Answer me, cher," he sexily whispered just as his fingers slipped under her panties. "Is this what you want?"

"Oh God, please don't do this..." she whispered; yet, her body was begging for his touch. "Jake...?"

His thumb pressed against her clit and she gasped.

"Is this why you're ignoring me, Elle, you're afraid you might like me?" he asked again only to send one of his digits exploring her tightness. He slurped in a breath of excitement. "I think it is," he whispered, "hot and wet." He now slipped two fingers into her and pumped the muscled walls of her vagina.

"Oh my, God," she squealed in pleasure.

"I've wanted to feel this for a long time," he let out a satisfied breath. "Fuck, you feel nice, let me show you how good I can make you feel," he stated before placing his mouth at her neck where he began to shower her with soft nibbles and sensual kisses.

"Jake...no," she whimpered with desire as she felt her body turn to putty to his touch. Elle knew she should be fighting him, protesting, but the sensations he was sending through her were making her melt.

Still holding her arms up, Jake rescinded his fingers from inside her and tugged at his pants freeing his engorged dick. When he pressed it up against her body, she gasped but quickly quieted just as revelers passed the latticed gate a few feet away outside.

"Shhhh," he whispered and wiped the fingers that had been inside her along the outline of her lips. She opened her mouth and licked as he wolfishly eyed her breasts before bending to one and sucking before moving to the other. His sucking mouth was brutal, vacillating between nips and hard sucks. As he assaulted her nipples, each tightened and puckered like two hard berries and her arousal level shot skyward.

This isn't happening, this isn't happening, her mind kept repeating, but in truth, she didn't want it to stop! It was raw to the core and she reveled in it! Jake Chevalier was going to fuck her in public, in the small hallway just feet from the street outside like a slut from one of his stables and she was going to let him!

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