Bourbon Street Inspiration by Jade Buchanan

Well, I’ve had a week to recover from the New Orleans trip and I’m already wanting to go back! In light of the fun time I had I wanted to bring back a little inspiration. This particular bit of fiction was inspired by a couple of odd cuts I ended up getting on my foot while out in the French Quarter with Ally and Jet ;) I’m not sure what I’ll do with it yet… any ideas? LOL!

Bourbon Bites by Jade Buchanan

©2010 Jade Buchanan, all rights reserved

Jimmy groaned, rolling over in bed. His mouth felt like something had died inside and his head was aching. Oh, not good. Not good at all.

“Jimmy!”

Grabbing his head before it careened right off his shoulders and splatted on the floor, Jimmy let out a heartfelt moan. Oh man, something smelt good. Coffee. Where was the coffee?

“Jimmy boy, where’d you go last night? You dead?”

No, he just felt like he was. Finally squinting his eyes open, Jimmy stared up into the bright blue eyes of his friend, Trav. “Wha happen’d?”

“You bailed on us. We figured you were still alive since we found you when we came back to the hotel but you’re an ass for leaving. Where’d you go?”

Where’d he go? He was with his friends the whole night. Wasn’t he? Trying to rack his brain, Jimmy kept coming up with a blank. What the hell? Surely he wasn’t stupid enough to go wandering off alone on Bourbon Street. How’d he get back to the hotel? He couldn’t remember a danged thing.

Gingerly sitting up, Jimmy accepted the cup of liquid gold from Pete. The man wisely stayed silent, letting Trav talk. Of course, Pete looked a little worse for wear himself. “What time’d you guys get in last night?” He sipped the coffee, groaning as it went straight to his aching head.

“I don’t know, it was after midnight. Early night for us. Even earlier night for you, buddy,” Trav said.

“I left?”

“You don’t remember?” Pete asked.

“Man, I have no idea what happened. I remember drinking three hurricanes at Pat O’s, then we had the rum and coke.”

“Then the cherry bombs.”

“Right. Cherry bombs. Shit, Everclear is not my friend.” He placed the mug carefully on the bedside table and grabbed his head again. “There was something else after that, wasn’t there?”

“I remember shots, but the rest is a bit fuzzy. I got tanked. Can’t even remember what places we went into. Everclear is noone’s friend, man.” Trav threw himself down on the other bed in the room. “There was something about a lifeguard, wasn’t there? Did I miss the lifeguard?”

A flash of dark eyes. Jimmy remembered dark eyes. A soothing cajun accent.

“The lifeguards were at that beach bar, remember Trav? Well, you couldn’t have been too drunk, Jim. I think someone got laid last night.” Pete said, dropping down to the ground. “You’re lucky Trav and I are sharing a bed. You were bare assed nekkid when we got home last night. Sheet barely around your waist.”

What. The. Hell?

Naked? He was naked? Snatching the sheet up, he glanced down at his very naked body. Okay then. Laid? Had he gotten laid? Moving gingerly, he realized he was definitely feeling the effects of something. “Why’d you think I was with someone and not just… you know?”

“Having a little party with Mr. Fist? Well, we found this and I know it ain’t yours.” Trav held up a black silky looking handkerchief, balling it up and pitching it at Jimmy.

A sweet scent drifted up from the handkerchief. Lemons? Mixed with a deep smoky cigar? A scene popped into his head, him stumbling along and being caught in hard arms before he could faceplant on the ground. Bodies moving together beneath the scratchy hotel sheets. Being held down by a much stronger man but feeling so incredibly safe. Teeth. He remembered teeth. Scraping along his body, nibbling his toes, sucking marks along his cock.

Holy shit. He’d brought a stranger back to the hotel? Nah. Couldn’t be. Jimmy swung his legs off the bed, careful to keep the sheet bunched around his waist. His ass was a tiny bit tender, making him think something really had happened last night. Not sore, really, just a twinge to let him know he’d had a good time and would be thinking about it all day. He really wished his memory wasn’t so fuzzy, though.

“Huh, what happened to your foot?” Pete bent over, squinting.

Jimmy glanced down, frowning at the sight of two perfectly round scrapes spaced neatly apart on the top of his right foot, in front of his toes. Well, that was weird. He wiggled his toes, suddenly getting a picture of the dark eyed man. He’d never met someone with a foot fetish before. But, what was up with the scrapes?

“So, who’s up for going out again tonight? Only a few more days left in NOLA, boys.” Trav moved into the bathroom, his voice drowned out by running water. “It’ll take us half the day to recover but we should be fine tonight to start all over again.”

Wiggling his toes again and feeling an echo of teeth biting into his skin, Jimmy nodded. “Yeah. I think that’s a good idea. Maybe let’s steer clear of alcohol, though.” He wondered who his mystery man was. If he’d see him again.

Only one way to find out.

Written by Jade Buchanan

Jade’s writing is as eclectic as her reading tastes, with over thirty erotic romance tales currently published. She’s also been known to accept writing challenges from friends and family just to see their reactions. She’s a firm believer that love and romance are universal concepts, no matter a person’s gender identity or sexual orientation. Originally from Northern Ontario, Jade has lived in British Columbia and the Sultanate of Oman in the Middle East. Jade currently lives in Calgary, Alberta, where she’s hard at work on her next story. Jade loves to hear from readers! Send her an email at jade.buchanan@yahoo.com.
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