Authors: Hope Welsh
Tags: #good vs evil, #romance, #contemmporary, #romantic suspense, #occult, #ghost, #paranormal, #prophecy
He smiled as he intensified the
caress, cupping her as he drove two fingers deep, teasing himself as much as
her.
As she started to clench around
his fingers, he drove her to a hard climax, loving the sound of his name on her
lips as the world spiraled away. Only then did he slow the caress, bringing her
back to earth gently. He knelt down between her spread thighs and lowered his
head.
“I—”
“Shh,” he murmured huskily. “It’s
only loving,” he soothed as he tasted her. He flicked his tongue against her
and felt her start to rise again. He held her hips tightly, controlling her
movements as he laved her with his tongue, tasting the sweet essence of her.
Finally, he lifted his head and gazed into her eyes, now dilated with desire.
“Now,” he said as he moved his body over hers.
“Now,” she agreed on a breath as
he entered her in one sure stroke.
His muscles strained as he tried
to regain some control. He didn’t want this to end too soon. He was seated to
the hilt in her hot sheath and he wanted to take her hard and fast.
But not this first time.
This first time would be for her.
Finally, he felt he had gained a
little control and started moving within her gently, clenching his teeth as her
inner muscles clasped around him. Suddenly he felt primitive, like the animals
he could so easily become. So much more than love making—it was mating. He
lowered his head and nipped her neck with a growl. She tasted of sweet woman
and salt. He laved the skin he’d nipped with his tongue.
Lost as those muscles tightened
around him, he paused long enough to make her look up. “Watch us,” he growled
huskily against her ear. And so it began. His eyes locked with hers as he
moved, swift and strong. She closed her eyes and arched against him and he let
go of his own desire, thrusting hard to his own release.
“I can’t move,” Lana said,
breathlessly. “I think my body turned to Jell-O.” She ran her hands across his
back. “Thank you. That was…something.”
He lifted his head and chuckled.
“Yeah, it was. Are you okay? I know I’m heavy.” He put one hand on her bottom
and started to roll to his side, but she stopped him.
She held him close. “Nuh uh.
Don’t move. I like the feel of you,” she said, making even more color rise to
her cheeks.
He kissed her forehead and
wrapped his other arm around her. “I like the feel of you, too.”
“I feel…revived. Satisfied for
unknown reasons,” she said with a quick grin.
He pinched her ass and said, “I
sure hope so.” He lay quiet a moment, then moved his hand to her face. “This is
special, Lana. It wasn’t just about sex.”
She studied him intently. “How
could it be anything else? We don’t even know each other, not really.”
He tamped down his surge of
anger.
I’ve known you forever
, he thought. It was no more than the
truth. He’d connected with her from the start. This act only solidified it. She
was his.
Her eyes widened. “What do you
mean you’ve known me forever?”
“Reading my thoughts again, are
you?” he queried softly with a gentle smile and tug of her hair.
“Oh, God,” she said and shut her
eyes. “I guess I was.”
“That could get me into some
trouble, huh?” he teased, trying to ease the tension on her beautiful face.
She grinned. “Well, you won’t be
able to keep things from me, that’s for sure,” she said with certainty as she
touched his face. “I guess I’m not so afraid any more.”
“Good. I hope you didn’t plan on
getting out of a bed for a while, because I have plans for you,” he said as he
thrust against her on a renewed surge of desire. He watched as her eyes
darkened on a moan.
She stretched up and nibbled on
his ear, her answering smile bright with feminine power. “Promise?”
§§§
Cole awoke several hours later.
He smiled down at the woman sleeping next to him.
What have I gotten myself
into here?
He wondered if he’d ever be able to let her go.
But this wasn’t how things were
supposed to be. He was better off alone, wasn’t he? Did he really need the
complications a relationship would undoubtedly bring?
He brushed the hair from her
face, letting his fingers linger a moment longer than necessary. God, he loved
her hair, the feel of her skin. The way her dark lashes rested against her
cheek made her look so fragile and vulnerable just then.
She was a paradox. Prickly one
minute, sweet the next. Scared, then fighting mad. And, damn it, sexy as
hell—whichever part of her happened to be on the surface. Mufti-faceted. That
term fit her best.
The question remained—what did he
do with her? How could he let her go? Did he want to let her go? The questions
ran through his mind, over and over. If he didn’t decide soon, they might drive
him crazy.
Not that it mattered yet, keeping
her safe and whole did. Thoughts of the threat made him stiffen. He needed
answers, and he needed them now. If he didn’t find out what they were up
against, he’d have no way to battle it, but something told him she had a part
of the fight. Her abilities would have a role to play.
With a sigh, and still no answers
to any of his questions, he slid his arm under her, pulling her close as he
closed his eyes and waited for sleep to take him again.
§§§
Who did they think he was?
Mortal, like them? He had known of this battle for millennia, whereas they had
known of it only days and still, they did not fret.
It infuriated him.
Did the mortals not realize how
precarious their position in this world really was? How could death not be
something these mortals feared? Or did they choose to ignore it in the hopes
that it would go away? Perhaps they thought him merciful.
The woman and her shifter
protector remained the only obstacles left in his way. The Druids had paid for
their treachery. Now these pesky humans would pay as well.
He could have disposed of them as
he might a bug, making their deaths swift and painless. It would have been over
in a blink of an eye, but there would have been little enjoyment in that.
A quick death would be wasteful.
Tasting their fear—and blood—would be more pleasing. He demanded that
satisfaction.
The Evil One paced. In just a few
hours’ time, the mortals would be standing in his way no more. His name would
become the meaning of fear before their end.
No one would stand in the way of
his power and nothing would stop his reign of terror.
A cold smile touched his lips.
Yes. Soon their time would end, and his as ruler would once again be at hand.
Cole woke her several times
during the night, his hunger for Lana nearly insatiable. Each time, though, she
opened her arms to him as if there were nowhere else she’d rather be.
He’d loved her gently the first
time, but each time after had been hotter and more erotic. She had never lost
her responsiveness, he mused, watching her sleep.
Cole knew he was lost. No point
trying to deny it or logic his way out of it. She belonged to him, even if she
didn’t know it yet. He’d not only loved her, he’d mated with her. Would she be
ready for that?
They had a powerful connection
between them, and somehow he knew that connection would be important. And much
more than just physical—the connection had a strong mental element to it, too.
But, she was wary—he knew that,
too. He’d take it slow, he decided. And give her time to get used to the idea.
Just looking at her made him hard
again. He shouldn’t want her again, but he did. He’d made love to her repeatedly
for hours. Now, she needed sleep.
Restless, he climbed out of bed,
careful not to wake her. He grabbed a pair of shorts from the chair and padded
quietly into the living room.
Before he could concentrate on
their relationship, he had to learn more about the danger surrounding her. He
was sure there had to be some clue left behind in her mother’s journal. No way could
he believe her mother knew something of what was going on and didn’t leave her
daughter any hints or clues. That made no sense.
As much as he wanted to take a
look at it himself, he knew diaries to be a private thing, and he didn’t want
to read it without Lana’s permission. He could wake her up and ask her, but he
decided against it. Morning would come soon enough.
Still restless, he paced the
small confines of his living room. Part of him wanted to shift and run. He
couldn’t do that, though. Leaving Lana alone was out of the question—even if
only for a few minutes.
He heard a noise and cursed. He’d
awakened her. “Hey, darlin’. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”
Lana smiled sleepily and walked
to stand next to him by the window. “You didn’t. I just knew I was alone.”
He pulled her against him and
gave her a gentle kiss on the lips. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she assured him,
wrapping her arms around his waist. “What’s wrong, Cole? I can feel your mind
whirling a hundred miles an hour.”
Well, that was one way to keep
you honest
, he mused. Date a psychic. “We need answers, Lana. I want to
read your mom’s journal. May I?”
“Of course,” she said and nodded.
“But I don’t think there’s much in there. She’d started dabbling in awful
poetry recently. I really don’t know how much help it will be, but I’ll go get
it.”
Cole watched her as she walked
toward the bedroom. She’d pulled on one of his shirts. They never looked that
good on him. For half a minute, he considered reading the journal in the
morning and following her back to bed, but he stopped himself.
There would be plenty of time for
passion. First, they needed answers.
She came back out a minute later,
her hips swaying as she moved, making the shirt ride up and…. He shook his
head. Later.
“Here you go,” she said and
handed him the leather bound journal. “I just don’t think it’ll help much.”
He kissed the top of her head.
“Can you fix a pot of coffee?”
“Sure.”
Cole sat down on the couch with
the small book and started to read. Random stories of Lana’s escapades as a
child, and a teen, and then her accomplishments as an adult filled the first
half of the book. Later, written accounts of the things she’d seen and felt. He
could only imagine the pain from some of them and the sense of helplessness.
About three quarters of the way
through, though, the entries began changing. The writing seemed to turn urgent.
The words jumbled together. Much of it was, as Lana had said, apparently just
bad poetry.
One line caught his eye and had
him sitting forward.
Two become one and one becomes
two
.
There was nothing else on the
page. Did it mean something?
Distracted, he didn’t hear Lana
come back into the room with the coffee until she stood in front of him holding
the cup out. “Oh, sorry,” he said and took the cup from her, sipping the hot
brew.
He waited until she sat down then
showed her the passage. “Do you have any idea what this means?”
Lana read it, her brow furrowing.
“Not really. I just figured it was a poem she never finished. Why?”
Cole shrugged. “It just struck me
in a weird way. I seem to recall something similar that my grandfather told me
years ago.”
That got her attention. “Really?
Do you think there’s some connection between what’s happening and our
families?”
That was just it—he didn’t really
know what to think. But he would damn well find out. “I’m not sure, Lana. But
since we’re both awake and it’s almost morning, why don’t we go see my father?
I want to see if this means anything to him.”
“It’s not too early?”
Cole glanced down at his watch
and laughed. “My mom is up at five every morning, and Dad goes out for his
daily run,” he explained. One thing his folks couldn’t be accused of was being
spontaneous. “No, it’s not too early. By the time we get there, it’ll be
lunchtime for them.”
“And you’re sure they won’t mind
your bringing a strange woman to their home?”
He shook his head and ruffled her
hair. Her tone made him wonder if she didn’t want to go. “Don’t worry, they’ll
love you as much as I do,” he assured her with a grin. He hadn’t meant to say
that out loud—hadn’t known he felt it until he’d said it. Now that he had, he
waited to see what her reaction would be.
The color fled from her face
quicker now than it had when the wolf had vanished in front of her. “What?” she
croaked.
“You heard me, Lana. I love you,”
he said seriously. “I know it’s quick, and really unexpected—on both sides, if
you want the truth—but I know what I feel.”
Lana stood up and paced. She
paused as he came up behind her and didn’t turn around until he pulled her into
his arm, resting his chin on her head. “Are you sure?” she asked against his
bare chest.
“I’m very sure. You’re mine. I
planned to give you time to get used to the idea, but to hell with it.”
She pulled back and stared into
his eyes. “I wish I could say I didn’t need time, but I think I do,” she
whispered as she lowered her head.
Cole didn’t respond for a moment,
wasn’t sure he could. After a long moment, he said, “Let’s get dressed.”
§§§
Lana watched as he walked from
the living room. She knew she’d hurt him, and that was the last thing she’d
wanted to do. All the events from the past forty-eight hours finally caught up
with her. Everything had happened so fast. She barely had time to catch her
breath, let alone think.
She loved being with him—that she
knew without a doubt. He made her laugh. As a lover, he’d been wonderful,
fulfilling fantasies in the darkness that she’d not even been aware she had.