Free Illeanna by Dixie Lynn Dwyer

behind the couch.
    Illeanna snuck a peek at Julien, who winked then took a bite of his sandwich.
    “I did. I’m sure I will sleep fine tonight.”
    “One of us will stay here with you,” he informed her then walked around to the kitchen to wash his hands.
     
    * * * *
     
     
    Illeanna felt as if her nerves were about to snap. She barely could keep her hands off of Julien when he napped with her, and now one of them was going to spend the night? She would never get any sleep. Were they purposely trying to make her lose her mind? She was panicking. Think, Illeanna.
    She looked at Gustave, and he smiled softly at her as if knowing what was going on and sympathizing with her. But she also knew that as quiet as Gustave was, he also was a Boudoux and they were all in this together. She glanced at Franco as she took a bite of the oyster po’boy sandwich realizing just how hungry she was. But she also missed cooking. Getting up every day to head to Carlile’s was fulfilling despite having to stand second to Jacque. She wondered how he was doing and whether she should call her boss to find out about him. The nervous feeling and almost-anxious feeling began to come back again at the thought of one of these men remaining here for the night. She swallowed hard and almost choked.
    “Hey, sugar, you got awfully quiet over there, something wrong?” Johnny asked.
    They heard a car door, and she wondered if it were Louis. She knew he was pissed at her, but so be it. Then of course she was a hypocrite since she had her little rendezvous with Julien after all that “I ain’t interested” spiel she gave earlier in the living room. She released a sigh as Louis opened the front door and entered the room. He looked a little disheveled but in a sexy, “I don’t give a shit” kind of way. His shoulder-length black hair was messy, and his shirt had a few buttons open in the front, revealing his tan skin. His face showed his need for a shave. The room was silent, and she quickly peeled her eyes from Louis and focused on the group in the living room.
    “I was just thinking about work. I was wondering how Jacque was doing.” She took a sip of beer the men offered. She was trying hard not to stare at Louis.
    “He’s fine. It was just a flesh wound,” Louis stated as he washed his hands in the kitchen then took a piece of sandwich and sat down by the island instead of near the rest of them.
    She felt a bit uneasy and, yes, guilty as Louis exchanged glances with his brothers. She could have sworn she saw daggers in Louis’s eyes as he stared at her. She sucked it up, knowing that perhaps she was a bit tough on him, but she felt out of control between Louis and Julien before and had lost almost all self-control. She wasn’t used to that, and it scared her. She just wasn’t ready to admit that quite yet.
    They talked about their day of work and the investigation over what took place at Carlile’s. She remained quiet as she watched them and tried to eat half a sandwich. The remoulade sauce was delicious as she licked her finger then took a napkin to wipe her mouth. The sight of all five men in her small home was odd. She hated to admit that in the past she wondered about ménage relationships and whether she could handle one. Her main concerns were about commitment, loyalty, and respect. Was it all about sex and being dominated in the bedroom? Not that she saw herself as aggressive in the bedroom, but her one and only time with Louis had been sensational despite the alcohol that initiated the union that night.
    The five minutes she was with Louis and Julien challenged her control and weakened her to their charms. They were just too appealing. All of them.
    She swallowed hard as she thought about that night with Louis. It had been amazing, and she knew a lot of that interpretation had to do with him being her first. She never had sex ever again. Not that the opportunities didn’t present themselves, but she just wasn’t into it when it