Mister Landlord - Mister Yum

“Promises, promises,” she says breathlessly.

“It’s a fucking guarantee,” I tell her as we come together.

Pulling out of her slowly, I move out of her space and back into mine. We both lay there unable to breathe properly for several minutes.

“Damn,” we say at the same time causing us to laugh.

“That was amazing,” she says rolling over to face me. Her fingers trace the skull tattooed on my chest for several minutes before she gasps. “Fuck! Is that really the time?” she asks. I look over at her clock. Its harsh red glow indicates that it’s already two-thirty. “I’ve got to go. I am so late. My captain is going to kill me,” she says, causing me to chuckle.

As a native of New Orleans, it’s hard not to know that she means her Mardi Gras krewe captain. From January 6th to Fat Tuesday, most of us live for this stuff, myself included but my Krewe meets at night. Carnival Season is full of the very best parties.

“It’ll be okay,” I assure her.

“You don’t know Tessa,” she says rushing around. I watch her slide the sexiest navy-blue thong on before she puts on the matching bra, then pulls a black dress over her head.

“If she’s anything like my captain, probably not,” I tell her also getting out of bed.

“What krewe are you on? What if we’re rivals?” she asks in mock horror.

“Zed Krewe. You?”

“Krewe of Hedonism,” she answers.

Both are among the oldest in the city. You have to be able to trace your roots back to a founder just to get in them. My family has been in Zed since 1909. While it wasn’t always the float riding, bead tossing sensation it is now, it has always been a social club for certain New Orleans blue-collar professionals. We have our ball on Mari Gras evening. The party lasts until the wee hours of the morning when we head to church for Ash Wednesday services.

Together, we leave her house. I head to my place and she goes to her krewe’s den. With a little less than a week to prepare for Mardi Gras, everyone is getting into high gear. I place a call to my captain to set into motion the idea that has been brewing since I woke up this morning. Asking Elle to be mine forever after a week isn’t as crazy as it seems. I love her, I’ve loved her from the second she opened her front door in that tiny robe. Now, let’s just hope she doesn’t think it’s crazy.

Laissez les bons temps rouler.

Let the good times roll.

Chapter Eight

Eleanor

Mardi Gras, February 25, 2020

The last week with Beau has been amazing. While our days are full of prep for Mardi Gras and work, our nights have been full of sweet dinners and sinfully naughty sex until we fall asleep in a tangled mess of sheets.

I don’t think he has slept at his place since the first night that we made love. On day two, after work, he showed up with a duffle bag with some of his stuff inside, and on night four I gave him a drawer. I know that it seems fast, but I already love having him in my house.

Well, I guess technically I am in his house, but I love him in my space. Every day he shows me what a wonderful man he is, and I fall a little more in love with him. While I am at work, he has been working on the house fixing the faucet and a few other things that needed doing. He always brings me lunch with a flower. He has gotten that for me no matter how busy he gets.

We haven’t said the words out loud yet, but he shows me how much he loves me by the way he takes care of me. I’m just afraid of telling him so soon and freaking him out. Tonight, is our Krewe balls. One thing you need to know about New Orleans is that being in a Krewe means being in a family. We always have each other’s backs. I wasn’t worried about him meeting mine. I knew they were going to love him. I am worried about meeting his though. I am nervous as fuck actually. We went to mine first where I witnessed my dad and all of the guys in my krewe fangirl over my man. Watching grown-ass men stumbling over their words asking him to sign shit was hilarious.

We are now on our way to his and I am trying not to let my nerves get the best of me. When we get out of the car, he takes my hand and brings it to his lips kissing the back of it before putting it over his heart.

“Don’t worry, chérie. They are going to love you. How could they not? You’re amazing.” I can feel my blush and I have never been so happy to be wearing a mask.