Golden Eyes by Maya Banks
way in a world she doesn’t belong to—and hope that the two men she loves will find their way home.
Warning: This title contains explicit sex, adult language, sweet lovin’, multiple partners and ménage a trois.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Amber Eyes:
The cougar waited patiently until the cabin went dark and all sounds within were silenced. Hunger gnawed at her belly, and pain was her constant companion. She needed food. She needed to shift.
Her eyes glowed in the dark as she stared, alert and listening for movement. It was time.
There on the floor of the porch, the golden brown fur rippled and blurred. Pink skin replaced animal hide. Long, honey colored hair, feminine tresses, flowed down her neck as the eyes of the cat became human.
Fingers curled and dug into the hard floor, and a human gasp of pain hovered in the room as her injured hand protested the change.
Never before had she attempted to shift when she was so close to humans. But she needed food, and she needed the rejuvenation her human form would bring. It had been too long since the cat had made a kill. Game had been scarce.
Now that she was human again, the raw meat of her prey was no longer enticing. Her mouth watered, and her stomach growled at the thought of cooked food. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d enjoyed such a luxury.
She picked herself up and stood, wavering on unsteady legs. Chills chased up and down her naked skin, causing an uncontrolled shiver to quake her spine.
“I am Kaya,” she whispered as she stared down at her human form. It was a reminder, one she gave herself on the few occasions she embraced her humanity. Over the years, her memories had become fuzzy, and it was hard to separate what was real with what was fantasy.
She had been forgotten by the humans, but she wouldn’t let herself forget her past or her heritage.
On silent feet, she crept toward the cabin door, testing the lock. To her relief, it opened easily and she slid inside the much warmer interior. After so long of seeking what warmth she could in dens and small caves, the heated interior of the cabin was as close to heaven as she would ever come.
For a moment she simply stood there, soaking in the warmth, allowing her insides a slow melt. Then, remembering that she was no longer the cat, she hurried forward. It wouldn’t do for the two men to discover her.
Jericho and Hunter.
She didn’t know why she’d been drawn to them or what possessed her to seek them out each time they returned to their cabin. Maybe it was her own loneliness and desire to be around other humans even when she herself was not in human form.
A large shirt lay carelessly over a chair as if thrown there without thought. Her hand reached out and caressed the soft material. She inhaled, scenting the male who’d worn it last. The one called Jericho.
She loved his smell. Him and the one called Hunter. It was what had first drawn the cougar to the isolated cabin high in the Rocky Mountains.
She knew from their conversations that they were as mistrustful of other humans as she was. Had they been cast aside like her? Forgotten?
They liked her and looked forward to her visits. The idea that her company brought them pleasure gave her an inexplicable thrill.
The material of the shirt felt good against her fingertips, and without thought, she picked it up and wrapped it around her body. It enveloped her, brushing across her skin like the warm spring sun after a harsh winter.
She quickly buttoned it, even though it would be ruined when she shifted back. It was a temporary pleasure she wouldn’t deny herself. She enjoyed so few that she clung tenaciously to this one.
Irritated that such a simple treat could sidetrack her from her goal, she hurried into the kitchen, the smell of fresh food guiding her. Her mouth watered as she found a pot of a wonderful-smelling concoction on the stove and next to it a half-eaten round of cornbread.
She stared impatiently at the meat mixture in the pot and sniffed, trying to ascertain the contents. It didn’t matter. She was so hungry, she could eat anything.
Grabbing the large spoon, she dipped it into the pot and brought it to her mouth. She slurped hungrily at the food even as her injured hand reached for the cornbread to the side. When she lowered the spoon to get more, she stuffed a piece of the cornbread in her mouth, chewing rapidly.
She worked at it indelicately, shoveling food into her mouth in an attempt to soothe the desperate hunger beating at her.
“What the hell?”
She froze and then jerked around, her heart pounding viciously. Jericho stood in the doorway to the kitchen, his eyes dark and his expression hard. The light was on behind him in the living room. She hadn’t even registered it or him coming into the kitchen so absorbed was she in eating.
She dropped the spoon with a clatter and immediately sidestepped to try and get around him.
“Whoa now,” he said in a soothing voice. He held out his hands in a placating manner even as he circled toward her. “I’m not going to hurt you, lady. I just want some questions answered. Like what the hell you’re doing in my kitchen wearing nothing but my shirt?”
“Jericho?” Hunter’s sleepy voice, laced with grumpiness, reached her ears. “Who the hell are you talking to?”
Kaya used that moment of inattention, when Hunter rounded the corner of the kitchen and laid shocked, angry eyes on her, to her advantage. When Jericho turned to Hunter, she launched herself across the kitchen and past Jericho.
She heard his curse and then the pounding of feet as he took off after her, but she was out already. She burst onto the porch and flew to the door, her last barrier to freedom.
Fumbling only for a split second with the hook, she flung it open and leaped into the snow. The cold was a shock to her bare skin, but she didn’t stop. Finding the harder, packed snow, she flew across the ice and headed for higher ground. The safety of her den.
She couldn’t be certain whether they followed, so she didn’t shift. Her footprints would lay heavy in the snow, and she couldn’t very well leave a trail that showed human prints turning to animal. And there was the shredded shirt she’d leave behind.
She backtracked several times, trying to mess up the vivid prints she knew she was leaving. And then, as the moon lifted higher in the sky, light snow began to fall, and she gave thanks to the great maker for the protection offered.
She stumbled back onto the familiar trail, numb with cold and fear. The adrenaline that had coursed so readily through her veins, lending strength and endurance, had rapidly diminished, leaving her weak and shaky.
The cougar stirred within her, restless and edgy, wanting freedom it was unused to being denied. It sensed the human was weak and in need of protection.
Kaya leashed the cat, using all her strength to ward off the shift. Not now. Not when she was open and vulnerable. Just a few more feet. She could make it. She was too weak to shift anyway.
The wind picked up as the snow began falling harder. Bitter and unrelenting, it pierced her skin and the meager protection Jericho’s shirt offered.
She stumbled across the smooth rock outcropping and hovered precariously close to the edge. Below was vast nothingness, shrouded in darkness. A river, shrunk down to nothing, carved its way through the valley she stood above. In the spring, it would roar with the rains and melting snow.
Weakly, she walked, and when she fell, she crawled toward the entrance to the small cave etched into the rock. It faced south, protected from the fierce north winds. On hands and knees she forced herself those final few feet until she was out of the wind and snow and into the warmth offered by the cave.
She crawled to the innermost portion and huddled against the wall, exhausted and weak. She needed to shift. Needed the warmth of the cougar’s fur and much stronger body mass. But she couldn’t keep her eyes open long enough to allow the cat its freedom.
A past with three, a future for two…
A Question of Love
© 2009 Jess Dee
Sequel to A Question of Trust
Gabe Carter and his best friend Connor’s passion for threesomes brought Tina Jenkins into Gabe’s bed—and into his heart. As a matter of honor, he gave up the woman he loved. Time passes, times change and old promises fall away, but Gabe is still in love with Tina. Now he’s going after his heart’s desire.
Tina has her own opinion about Gabe’s sense of honor. His departure tore apart the most special of bonds and destroyed her relationship with Connor, leaving her brokenhearted. It took her a long time to pick up the pieces, a struggle she doesn’t wish to repeat. When Gabe shows up at her favorite coffee shop, she knows just where to tell him to stick his apology.
Gabe isn’t so easily put off—and Tina can’t help but respond to his seduction. Picking up where they left off is tempting, but Gabe wants her all to himself. And Tina wants the whole package, which includes Connor.
At the risk of crushing his hopes for the future, Gabe sets out to prove he’s more than enough man for her…
Warning: If piping hot sex, ménage scenes, adult toys, anal play, short blonde heroines and stacked, muscular heroes are not your cup of tea, then don’t read this book. You won’t enjoy it.
Enjoy the following excerpt for A Question of Love:
“Shut up, Gabe.” She punched him again and then again, this time on his arm. “I’m busy being pissed off at you.”
He tensed his biceps, accepting her blows without comment.
Shit, wasn’t that just typical Gabe behavior? Everything went by without comment. Everything. Even his departure from her life. She hit him harder. Then harder again. “Damn you, Gabriel Carter,” she spluttered. “You left us. You left me. You walked away from the best thing that ever happened to me. You bastard.” The hand she’d been attacking with throbbed so she switched arms and pummeled him good. Rage came bubbling to the surface, lending strength to her strikes. “I loved you, goddamn it. You and Connor. You were my world. My happiness. And. You. Walked. Away. You destroyed us.”
Four years, and who would have thought she still had so much emotion left in her? So much bloody anger and despair. Yes, he may have come back six months later, but by then it was already too late. She’d met Grant and tried to move on with her life.
“I destroyed me too,” Gabe whispered.
“Shut up,” she snapped. “You don’t get to have a say now. You don’t get to tell me how you felt. You’re four years too bloody late for that.”
She raised her arm to strike him again, but before her hand found its target, he acted. In less time than it took to blink, Tina hung suspended in space, her legs dangling uselessly below her. Gabe had her caught between his body and the wall. His chest pressed into hers, flattening her breasts against his pecs, against a barrier of super hard male flesh. His thigh was wedged between her legs, holding her up, pushing against her groin, making even the slightest move an exquisite form of torture. And his mouth was inches, centimeters, from hers. So close the rasping heat of his breath warmed her lips, tickled her nose and sent a blast of half-crazed lust careening down her spine.
“You were my world, T. But you were Connor’s first. I didn’t have a choice.” He thrust his thigh up, and she battled against him.
Oh, holy hell. She needed to stop struggling. The sensations smashing through her and lighting up her core had her writhing with need. Either she had to quit struggling—or she needed to go to war with him. All-out war, which would have only one result. An orgasm. And a damn hard one if her current state of desire was anything to go by.
“We all have choices,” she bit back and then added for good measure, “Sometimes we just make the wrong ones.”
“You think I don’t know how bad my decision was?” Gabe’s voice was hoarse, the look in his eyes tortured. “You think I didn’t spend the last three and a half years in hell wondering how you were? If you were married? Happy?” He ground his thigh against her pussy, and she bit back a whimper. “You think this is what I want? My leg here? Fuck, T, I want my whole body between your legs. I want…” He closed his eyes and groaned. “I want to be inside you. So goddamned deep inside you I lose myself. I want…need to feel your warm pussy wrapped around me, pulling me in deeper and deeper…”
Tina gulped, because now that he’d voiced it out loud, she wanted the very same thing. She had a maddening compulsion to tear off her clothes and his, draw him down to the floor and envelop his hard length with her pussy.
He dropped his head, resting his forehead against hers, taking in great gulps of air. She sucked in the air he exhaled, greedy for anything of his to become a part of her.
His voice was erotic as sin as he panted out, “Need to…make love…to you.”
She dissolved. Any reluctance that might have prevented her from responding dissipated in his words, in his raw desire for her. Her eyelids drooped, her lips parted, and she raised her chin to meet his mouth in the inevitability of a kiss. More than her next breath, she wanted his mouth on hers.
Which made the resounding thud beside her left ear all the more shocking.
Gabe pounded the wall with his fist. Once, twice and a third time. With a strangled moan he dropped his thigh and drew away from Tina. He did not release her until her feet touched the ground.
With legs as useless as rubber, she slid weightlessly down the wall, her knees caving beneath her, and came to rest in a shapeless lump on the carpeted floor.
Gabe prowled her lounge, a veritable giant amongst her furniture. He drew to a halt against the wall opposite her, hit it once and then dropped to the floor as well.
For endless moments he stared at her, his eyes hooded, his mouth drawn. The sound of heavy breathing echoed in her ears. His? Hers? She had no idea. Her heart slammed into her ribs, her lungs seeking oxygen in the airless room.
“I’m sorry,” he rasped. “I…shouldn’t have done that.”
She waited until she was sure she could string a sentence together. “I…shouldn’t have hit you.” Yet even with the acknowledgement her hand still curled into a fist, the dull ache in her knuckles nothing compared to the need to lash out at him again.
He stared at her fist and raised an eyebrow. The look on his face might have been skeptical—if longing and naked desire hadn’t shadowed his eyes. “But you’re not sorry you did.”
She forced her fingers to straighten. “You hurt me, Gabe.”
He nodded. “I’m sorry.”
“I wanted to…hurt you back.”
Another nod. “That’s okay.” He slumped against the wall and let his arms drop to his sides. “I won’t respond this time. I swear.” He kept his gaze level with hers. “Come at me. Hurt me as much as you need to.”
Instinct made her hands curl into fists again, but this time, Tina restrained herself. If she went at him now she’d last maybe three seconds before her blows turned to caresses. Instead of inflicting pain she’d draw relief from touching his skin. If she so much as tapped a finger to his flesh now, she’d be naked and begging for more before Gabe had time to register what had—or hadn’t—hit him.
She bit back a frustrated cry. “I just want…” Her voice trailed off. “I want… I need…” She shook her head, unable to put words to her thoughts.
“What is it, T? Tell me. Anything you want. Anything. It’s yours.”
A legend…a myth…a high stakes game that could shatter them both.
Heart of a Huntress
© 2010 Crista McHugh
The Kavanaugh Foundation, Book 1
As one of the oldest surviving vampire hunters in the Foundation, Lana’s learned the toughest lesson: success comes at a price. So while the yummy stranger she bumps into at Caesar’s trips all her temptation switches, duty comes first. Better to be alone than to gamble with someone else’s heart—or her own. Although maybe a one-night stand won’t hurt…
Byron has set a one-way course for revenge against the Vegas vampire who murdered his uncle. When he collides with Lana, though, her scent calls to him like a potent aphrodisiac. The only explanation: she’s his true-mate. And the timing couldn’t be worse. He can’t afford any distractions—not to mention it’ll be hell convincing her to love someone who sprouts fur and fangs every full moon.
One drink together turns into a daring night of passion. Their erotic interlude ends abruptly with the news that Lana’s partner has been abducted by the very vampire Byron seeks. Now Byron has no choice. He must reveal what he is and risk a rejection that could spell his own destruction…
Warning: Contains wild sex you want to sink your teeth into and a shower at the Venetian that may need to be closed for repairs until further notice.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Heart of a Huntress:
His fingers itched to touch her, but he shoved them into his pockets. “No ambushes tonight?”
Lana shook her head and her shoulders relaxed. “No sign of trouble anywhere, and that has me nervous.”
“For what it’s worth, I haven’t seen any of them at Caesars or Bellagio. Care to check out the Venetian with me?”
“How does someone completely untrained know what to look for?”
“Some things are instinctual.” Byron closed the space between them and bathed in her scent. Right now, his instincts told him to get her up to his suite at the Venetian and remove every article of clothing that clung in all the right places to her lean body.
Her pupils enlarged, and her grip tightened over the straps of her purse until her knuckles turned white. Her breath quickened. “Instinctual?”
A grin raised the corners of his mouth. She seemed just as aroused as he was, and they hadn’t even touched each other yet. So far, so good. “Yeah, sort of like that gut feeling you have when you cross someone who isn’t quite right. Or maybe when you bump into someone who seems a little too right.”
There. He’d laid his cards on the table for her, letting her know he wanted her without sounding like some horny pervert. He realized he was holding his breath while he waited for her response.
“I think I know what you’re talking about.” She lowered her eyes and took a step toward the main entrance. “I suppose checking out the Venetian before heading home wouldn’t hurt, so long as you stay out of my way if we find anything there.”
“Trying to steal my thunder?”
“Trying to keep you from getting killed.”
He chuckled at her overprotectiveness. If she only knew that he was really a wolf in human clothing, not some helpless little lamb. “If I remember correctly, I saved your life last night.”
She bristled at his comment. “No need to get cocky.”
“I meant what I said about joining forces. I think we’d make a great team.” He trailed after her as she meandered through the crowd, his strides easily matching hers.
“I’m not authorized to work with outsiders.”
“Who says Big Brother needs to find out? I want to catch my uncle’s killer. You want to kill any bloodsucker that moves. It’s a win-win situation from where I’m standing.”
She stopped and rubbed her forehead once they reached the sidewalk. “Is that the only reason you’re following me around, Byron? To get your revenge?”
“No,” he blurted out.
“Then why?”
A lump expanded in his throat, cutting off the air and causing spit to pool under his tongue. He swallowed hard to push it down into his stomach, where it sat like a lead brick. How much should he tell her now? “The truth?”
“It would be a good place to start.”
He glanced around at the scant traffic on the sidewalk, but still felt uncomfortable telling her with an audience. He wouldn’t be surprised if Alan had spies positioned within earshot, and with a werewolf, that could mean a block away at this time of night. “Can we please go someplace where we can’t be overheard?”
“Where do you suggest?”
“I have a room at the Venetian.”
Her head snapped up, and her lips parted. A new facet enhanced her scent. He’d smelled it last night in the hallway, but now he knew what it was. Her arousal. His cock strained against his zipper as he inhaled it. “No funny business?” she asked softly.
“You call the shots, remember?”
“Good.” She pulled herself together, appearing to be all professional for the
Warning: This title contains explicit sex, adult language, sweet lovin’, multiple partners and ménage a trois.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Amber Eyes:
The cougar waited patiently until the cabin went dark and all sounds within were silenced. Hunger gnawed at her belly, and pain was her constant companion. She needed food. She needed to shift.
Her eyes glowed in the dark as she stared, alert and listening for movement. It was time.
There on the floor of the porch, the golden brown fur rippled and blurred. Pink skin replaced animal hide. Long, honey colored hair, feminine tresses, flowed down her neck as the eyes of the cat became human.
Fingers curled and dug into the hard floor, and a human gasp of pain hovered in the room as her injured hand protested the change.
Never before had she attempted to shift when she was so close to humans. But she needed food, and she needed the rejuvenation her human form would bring. It had been too long since the cat had made a kill. Game had been scarce.
Now that she was human again, the raw meat of her prey was no longer enticing. Her mouth watered, and her stomach growled at the thought of cooked food. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d enjoyed such a luxury.
She picked herself up and stood, wavering on unsteady legs. Chills chased up and down her naked skin, causing an uncontrolled shiver to quake her spine.
“I am Kaya,” she whispered as she stared down at her human form. It was a reminder, one she gave herself on the few occasions she embraced her humanity. Over the years, her memories had become fuzzy, and it was hard to separate what was real with what was fantasy.
She had been forgotten by the humans, but she wouldn’t let herself forget her past or her heritage.
On silent feet, she crept toward the cabin door, testing the lock. To her relief, it opened easily and she slid inside the much warmer interior. After so long of seeking what warmth she could in dens and small caves, the heated interior of the cabin was as close to heaven as she would ever come.
For a moment she simply stood there, soaking in the warmth, allowing her insides a slow melt. Then, remembering that she was no longer the cat, she hurried forward. It wouldn’t do for the two men to discover her.
Jericho and Hunter.
She didn’t know why she’d been drawn to them or what possessed her to seek them out each time they returned to their cabin. Maybe it was her own loneliness and desire to be around other humans even when she herself was not in human form.
A large shirt lay carelessly over a chair as if thrown there without thought. Her hand reached out and caressed the soft material. She inhaled, scenting the male who’d worn it last. The one called Jericho.
She loved his smell. Him and the one called Hunter. It was what had first drawn the cougar to the isolated cabin high in the Rocky Mountains.
She knew from their conversations that they were as mistrustful of other humans as she was. Had they been cast aside like her? Forgotten?
They liked her and looked forward to her visits. The idea that her company brought them pleasure gave her an inexplicable thrill.
The material of the shirt felt good against her fingertips, and without thought, she picked it up and wrapped it around her body. It enveloped her, brushing across her skin like the warm spring sun after a harsh winter.
She quickly buttoned it, even though it would be ruined when she shifted back. It was a temporary pleasure she wouldn’t deny herself. She enjoyed so few that she clung tenaciously to this one.
Irritated that such a simple treat could sidetrack her from her goal, she hurried into the kitchen, the smell of fresh food guiding her. Her mouth watered as she found a pot of a wonderful-smelling concoction on the stove and next to it a half-eaten round of cornbread.
She stared impatiently at the meat mixture in the pot and sniffed, trying to ascertain the contents. It didn’t matter. She was so hungry, she could eat anything.
Grabbing the large spoon, she dipped it into the pot and brought it to her mouth. She slurped hungrily at the food even as her injured hand reached for the cornbread to the side. When she lowered the spoon to get more, she stuffed a piece of the cornbread in her mouth, chewing rapidly.
She worked at it indelicately, shoveling food into her mouth in an attempt to soothe the desperate hunger beating at her.
“What the hell?”
She froze and then jerked around, her heart pounding viciously. Jericho stood in the doorway to the kitchen, his eyes dark and his expression hard. The light was on behind him in the living room. She hadn’t even registered it or him coming into the kitchen so absorbed was she in eating.
She dropped the spoon with a clatter and immediately sidestepped to try and get around him.
“Whoa now,” he said in a soothing voice. He held out his hands in a placating manner even as he circled toward her. “I’m not going to hurt you, lady. I just want some questions answered. Like what the hell you’re doing in my kitchen wearing nothing but my shirt?”
“Jericho?” Hunter’s sleepy voice, laced with grumpiness, reached her ears. “Who the hell are you talking to?”
Kaya used that moment of inattention, when Hunter rounded the corner of the kitchen and laid shocked, angry eyes on her, to her advantage. When Jericho turned to Hunter, she launched herself across the kitchen and past Jericho.
She heard his curse and then the pounding of feet as he took off after her, but she was out already. She burst onto the porch and flew to the door, her last barrier to freedom.
Fumbling only for a split second with the hook, she flung it open and leaped into the snow. The cold was a shock to her bare skin, but she didn’t stop. Finding the harder, packed snow, she flew across the ice and headed for higher ground. The safety of her den.
She couldn’t be certain whether they followed, so she didn’t shift. Her footprints would lay heavy in the snow, and she couldn’t very well leave a trail that showed human prints turning to animal. And there was the shredded shirt she’d leave behind.
She backtracked several times, trying to mess up the vivid prints she knew she was leaving. And then, as the moon lifted higher in the sky, light snow began to fall, and she gave thanks to the great maker for the protection offered.
She stumbled back onto the familiar trail, numb with cold and fear. The adrenaline that had coursed so readily through her veins, lending strength and endurance, had rapidly diminished, leaving her weak and shaky.
The cougar stirred within her, restless and edgy, wanting freedom it was unused to being denied. It sensed the human was weak and in need of protection.
Kaya leashed the cat, using all her strength to ward off the shift. Not now. Not when she was open and vulnerable. Just a few more feet. She could make it. She was too weak to shift anyway.
The wind picked up as the snow began falling harder. Bitter and unrelenting, it pierced her skin and the meager protection Jericho’s shirt offered.
She stumbled across the smooth rock outcropping and hovered precariously close to the edge. Below was vast nothingness, shrouded in darkness. A river, shrunk down to nothing, carved its way through the valley she stood above. In the spring, it would roar with the rains and melting snow.
Weakly, she walked, and when she fell, she crawled toward the entrance to the small cave etched into the rock. It faced south, protected from the fierce north winds. On hands and knees she forced herself those final few feet until she was out of the wind and snow and into the warmth offered by the cave.
She crawled to the innermost portion and huddled against the wall, exhausted and weak. She needed to shift. Needed the warmth of the cougar’s fur and much stronger body mass. But she couldn’t keep her eyes open long enough to allow the cat its freedom.
A past with three, a future for two…
A Question of Love
© 2009 Jess Dee
Sequel to A Question of Trust
Gabe Carter and his best friend Connor’s passion for threesomes brought Tina Jenkins into Gabe’s bed—and into his heart. As a matter of honor, he gave up the woman he loved. Time passes, times change and old promises fall away, but Gabe is still in love with Tina. Now he’s going after his heart’s desire.
Tina has her own opinion about Gabe’s sense of honor. His departure tore apart the most special of bonds and destroyed her relationship with Connor, leaving her brokenhearted. It took her a long time to pick up the pieces, a struggle she doesn’t wish to repeat. When Gabe shows up at her favorite coffee shop, she knows just where to tell him to stick his apology.
Gabe isn’t so easily put off—and Tina can’t help but respond to his seduction. Picking up where they left off is tempting, but Gabe wants her all to himself. And Tina wants the whole package, which includes Connor.
At the risk of crushing his hopes for the future, Gabe sets out to prove he’s more than enough man for her…
Warning: If piping hot sex, ménage scenes, adult toys, anal play, short blonde heroines and stacked, muscular heroes are not your cup of tea, then don’t read this book. You won’t enjoy it.
Enjoy the following excerpt for A Question of Love:
“Shut up, Gabe.” She punched him again and then again, this time on his arm. “I’m busy being pissed off at you.”
He tensed his biceps, accepting her blows without comment.
Shit, wasn’t that just typical Gabe behavior? Everything went by without comment. Everything. Even his departure from her life. She hit him harder. Then harder again. “Damn you, Gabriel Carter,” she spluttered. “You left us. You left me. You walked away from the best thing that ever happened to me. You bastard.” The hand she’d been attacking with throbbed so she switched arms and pummeled him good. Rage came bubbling to the surface, lending strength to her strikes. “I loved you, goddamn it. You and Connor. You were my world. My happiness. And. You. Walked. Away. You destroyed us.”
Four years, and who would have thought she still had so much emotion left in her? So much bloody anger and despair. Yes, he may have come back six months later, but by then it was already too late. She’d met Grant and tried to move on with her life.
“I destroyed me too,” Gabe whispered.
“Shut up,” she snapped. “You don’t get to have a say now. You don’t get to tell me how you felt. You’re four years too bloody late for that.”
She raised her arm to strike him again, but before her hand found its target, he acted. In less time than it took to blink, Tina hung suspended in space, her legs dangling uselessly below her. Gabe had her caught between his body and the wall. His chest pressed into hers, flattening her breasts against his pecs, against a barrier of super hard male flesh. His thigh was wedged between her legs, holding her up, pushing against her groin, making even the slightest move an exquisite form of torture. And his mouth was inches, centimeters, from hers. So close the rasping heat of his breath warmed her lips, tickled her nose and sent a blast of half-crazed lust careening down her spine.
“You were my world, T. But you were Connor’s first. I didn’t have a choice.” He thrust his thigh up, and she battled against him.
Oh, holy hell. She needed to stop struggling. The sensations smashing through her and lighting up her core had her writhing with need. Either she had to quit struggling—or she needed to go to war with him. All-out war, which would have only one result. An orgasm. And a damn hard one if her current state of desire was anything to go by.
“We all have choices,” she bit back and then added for good measure, “Sometimes we just make the wrong ones.”
“You think I don’t know how bad my decision was?” Gabe’s voice was hoarse, the look in his eyes tortured. “You think I didn’t spend the last three and a half years in hell wondering how you were? If you were married? Happy?” He ground his thigh against her pussy, and she bit back a whimper. “You think this is what I want? My leg here? Fuck, T, I want my whole body between your legs. I want…” He closed his eyes and groaned. “I want to be inside you. So goddamned deep inside you I lose myself. I want…need to feel your warm pussy wrapped around me, pulling me in deeper and deeper…”
Tina gulped, because now that he’d voiced it out loud, she wanted the very same thing. She had a maddening compulsion to tear off her clothes and his, draw him down to the floor and envelop his hard length with her pussy.
He dropped his head, resting his forehead against hers, taking in great gulps of air. She sucked in the air he exhaled, greedy for anything of his to become a part of her.
His voice was erotic as sin as he panted out, “Need to…make love…to you.”
She dissolved. Any reluctance that might have prevented her from responding dissipated in his words, in his raw desire for her. Her eyelids drooped, her lips parted, and she raised her chin to meet his mouth in the inevitability of a kiss. More than her next breath, she wanted his mouth on hers.
Which made the resounding thud beside her left ear all the more shocking.
Gabe pounded the wall with his fist. Once, twice and a third time. With a strangled moan he dropped his thigh and drew away from Tina. He did not release her until her feet touched the ground.
With legs as useless as rubber, she slid weightlessly down the wall, her knees caving beneath her, and came to rest in a shapeless lump on the carpeted floor.
Gabe prowled her lounge, a veritable giant amongst her furniture. He drew to a halt against the wall opposite her, hit it once and then dropped to the floor as well.
For endless moments he stared at her, his eyes hooded, his mouth drawn. The sound of heavy breathing echoed in her ears. His? Hers? She had no idea. Her heart slammed into her ribs, her lungs seeking oxygen in the airless room.
“I’m sorry,” he rasped. “I…shouldn’t have done that.”
She waited until she was sure she could string a sentence together. “I…shouldn’t have hit you.” Yet even with the acknowledgement her hand still curled into a fist, the dull ache in her knuckles nothing compared to the need to lash out at him again.
He stared at her fist and raised an eyebrow. The look on his face might have been skeptical—if longing and naked desire hadn’t shadowed his eyes. “But you’re not sorry you did.”
She forced her fingers to straighten. “You hurt me, Gabe.”
He nodded. “I’m sorry.”
“I wanted to…hurt you back.”
Another nod. “That’s okay.” He slumped against the wall and let his arms drop to his sides. “I won’t respond this time. I swear.” He kept his gaze level with hers. “Come at me. Hurt me as much as you need to.”
Instinct made her hands curl into fists again, but this time, Tina restrained herself. If she went at him now she’d last maybe three seconds before her blows turned to caresses. Instead of inflicting pain she’d draw relief from touching his skin. If she so much as tapped a finger to his flesh now, she’d be naked and begging for more before Gabe had time to register what had—or hadn’t—hit him.
She bit back a frustrated cry. “I just want…” Her voice trailed off. “I want… I need…” She shook her head, unable to put words to her thoughts.
“What is it, T? Tell me. Anything you want. Anything. It’s yours.”
A legend…a myth…a high stakes game that could shatter them both.
Heart of a Huntress
© 2010 Crista McHugh
The Kavanaugh Foundation, Book 1
As one of the oldest surviving vampire hunters in the Foundation, Lana’s learned the toughest lesson: success comes at a price. So while the yummy stranger she bumps into at Caesar’s trips all her temptation switches, duty comes first. Better to be alone than to gamble with someone else’s heart—or her own. Although maybe a one-night stand won’t hurt…
Byron has set a one-way course for revenge against the Vegas vampire who murdered his uncle. When he collides with Lana, though, her scent calls to him like a potent aphrodisiac. The only explanation: she’s his true-mate. And the timing couldn’t be worse. He can’t afford any distractions—not to mention it’ll be hell convincing her to love someone who sprouts fur and fangs every full moon.
One drink together turns into a daring night of passion. Their erotic interlude ends abruptly with the news that Lana’s partner has been abducted by the very vampire Byron seeks. Now Byron has no choice. He must reveal what he is and risk a rejection that could spell his own destruction…
Warning: Contains wild sex you want to sink your teeth into and a shower at the Venetian that may need to be closed for repairs until further notice.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Heart of a Huntress:
His fingers itched to touch her, but he shoved them into his pockets. “No ambushes tonight?”
Lana shook her head and her shoulders relaxed. “No sign of trouble anywhere, and that has me nervous.”
“For what it’s worth, I haven’t seen any of them at Caesars or Bellagio. Care to check out the Venetian with me?”
“How does someone completely untrained know what to look for?”
“Some things are instinctual.” Byron closed the space between them and bathed in her scent. Right now, his instincts told him to get her up to his suite at the Venetian and remove every article of clothing that clung in all the right places to her lean body.
Her pupils enlarged, and her grip tightened over the straps of her purse until her knuckles turned white. Her breath quickened. “Instinctual?”
A grin raised the corners of his mouth. She seemed just as aroused as he was, and they hadn’t even touched each other yet. So far, so good. “Yeah, sort of like that gut feeling you have when you cross someone who isn’t quite right. Or maybe when you bump into someone who seems a little too right.”
There. He’d laid his cards on the table for her, letting her know he wanted her without sounding like some horny pervert. He realized he was holding his breath while he waited for her response.
“I think I know what you’re talking about.” She lowered her eyes and took a step toward the main entrance. “I suppose checking out the Venetian before heading home wouldn’t hurt, so long as you stay out of my way if we find anything there.”
“Trying to steal my thunder?”
“Trying to keep you from getting killed.”
He chuckled at her overprotectiveness. If she only knew that he was really a wolf in human clothing, not some helpless little lamb. “If I remember correctly, I saved your life last night.”
She bristled at his comment. “No need to get cocky.”
“I meant what I said about joining forces. I think we’d make a great team.” He trailed after her as she meandered through the crowd, his strides easily matching hers.
“I’m not authorized to work with outsiders.”
“Who says Big Brother needs to find out? I want to catch my uncle’s killer. You want to kill any bloodsucker that moves. It’s a win-win situation from where I’m standing.”
She stopped and rubbed her forehead once they reached the sidewalk. “Is that the only reason you’re following me around, Byron? To get your revenge?”
“No,” he blurted out.
“Then why?”
A lump expanded in his throat, cutting off the air and causing spit to pool under his tongue. He swallowed hard to push it down into his stomach, where it sat like a lead brick. How much should he tell her now? “The truth?”
“It would be a good place to start.”
He glanced around at the scant traffic on the sidewalk, but still felt uncomfortable telling her with an audience. He wouldn’t be surprised if Alan had spies positioned within earshot, and with a werewolf, that could mean a block away at this time of night. “Can we please go someplace where we can’t be overheard?”
“Where do you suggest?”
“I have a room at the Venetian.”
Her head snapped up, and her lips parted. A new facet enhanced her scent. He’d smelled it last night in the hallway, but now he knew what it was. Her arousal. His cock strained against his zipper as he inhaled it. “No funny business?” she asked softly.
“You call the shots, remember?”
“Good.” She pulled herself together, appearing to be all professional for the