Aaron's Kiss Series Boxed Set (Books 1 - 7) (88 page)

“Bailey, I’m going to fuck this tight ass and it’s going to hurt.” He removed his fingers and moved his now drenched cock head to her entrance. Moving slowly against and away, he waited for her to answer him, all the while stretching her wide, opening her for him.

“Please, Tristan, please, fuck me.”

He pushed the engorged head into her. She cried out but didn’t pull away. He moved another few inches in and pulled back, then into her more. He did this slowly over and over until he was buried to the hilt. Sweat was pouring off him. He’d never worked so hard for something in his life, and it was worth every bit of it.

He stopped moving. As much as he wanted to fuck her now that he was inside of her, he didn’t want to hurt her any more. Leaning into her, he reached around to her pussy and found her clit. She was swollen and the little nub was no longer covered by her nether lips but peeking out for his touch. He teased it with his fingers, and when she started to ride against him, he began to move inside of her again. The grip she had on his cock was tight to the point of near pain but he couldn’t stop.

He was close, the heat and the tightness making it impossible for him not to shoot his load into her sooner than he wanted. Pinching her clit, he felt her contract tighter around him as she came, crying out his name over and over. He roared, his own climax seizing him quicker than it ever had as he rammed deep and emptied himself into her.

He couldn’t move. He knew that his weight leaning onto her had to be too much, but he simply couldn’t make his legs move to stand up, much less hold his own weight. He kissed her shoulder, tasting the salty sweat. Bath, they needed another bath. He wished he was home in his lair. The underground pool that he’d had the room built around would have been wonderful right now. But he didn’t have the energy it would require to transport them both there. She had drained him. He chuckled out loud at that thought.

“If you can laugh, you can move.” She started to move, to stand, but he wasn’t ready to leave her body just yet. Pulling her hips back against him again, she moaned before she leaned back against his chest. “I don’t think…I can’t again, Tristan. I’m…I…”

“I know, love. I just wanted to hold you. I hurt you, I’m sorry. Next time it won’t be so bad.” She turned to him and brought her mouth to his for a gentle kiss, her back still pressed to him, his semi-hard cock still deep inside of her.

Pulling away and out of her, but not breaking the kiss, he bent over, picked her up in his arms, and carried her back in the bathroom. The water was still running, but he stepped into it and sat in the warm water. He held her tight against him and after a few minutes, he sat her up and began cupping water over her hair. When it was wet, he poured a good amount of shampoo into his hand and started working into her hair. Rinsing it proved a little tricky, but she gave him a plastic glass she had hidden among the plants around the tub. When he had finished washing her body, using more of her scented soap than necessary, he stood her up, set her outside the tub, and dried her off, moving the fluffy, thick towel over every inch of her body. Sitting down on the toilet, he sat her on his lap and began running his fingers through the tangles in her hair. When he had removed as many as he could, he picked up her comb and ran it through the long mass.

“No one’s ever bathed me before. It’s very decadent, isn’t it?” They were in bed now, her in yet another pair of lounge pants and sleeveless tee. The pants were a strange-looking sponge in a pair of shorts and a sailor hat. The shirt was a picture of the same character, but he was swollen up with water while sitting in a tub.

“It can be if it’s done correctly.” He pulled her close to him and held her tight. He realized after a few minutes that she was asleep, her soft snores puffing against his bare chest. He yawned himself and pulled the blankets up and over them both. He inhaled her scent deep into his lungs, thinking that he would need to buy the company that made that particular soap; it would be so worth every penny of whatever they wanted. He fell asleep with a smile on his face and one in his heart.

~CHAPTER SEVENTEEN~

It was late afternoon when he woke up. He knew right away that she was gone, knew that she had gone on her assignment. He went into the bathroom and found her note to him. 

“Thanks for making the bed,”
it started. He looked back into the bedroom and noticed that he had indeed made the bed, the linens in a pile at the foot and the fresh ones he’d found in her closet now on it. He started reading again.

“Thanks for making the bed. I knew you wouldn’t be able to help yourself.

I’ve gone to take care of the target. I’m sorry you’ll feel that I’ve disobeyed you, but I have no choice in this matter. 

Griff has some things for you to sign and a few things I’d like for you to have. I don’t have a lot, but it’s all yours. 

There will be some things said, most of it will be true, but I wanted you to know that I love you. I don’t know how long I’ve known, it seems like all my life, but I love you. 

When this is all over, please go to see the queen. She has something for you as well. Goodbye, my love. 

Bailey St. James.”

~~~

“Where is she? I know you know, so tell me who the target is and where she is.” He had stormed into the castle as soon as he left her apartment.

“I can’t tell you and you damn good and well know that I can’t. I also don’t appreciate you slamming doors and acting like you own the fucking place. She said to come here when it’s over. I don’t have the energy to deal with you today. Go home.” When she turned her back on him, he lost control. He leapt across the room and had her throat in his hands before her guard could react.

“They move and I will take this pretty head of yours off at the shoulders. The woman I love is out there somewhere and I want you to tell me where.” She wasn’t struggling against him, which should have been his first clue; his second should have been the buildup of power surrounding her. He was across the room and against the wall before he drew his next breath.

“The two of you need to learn protocol when it comes to touching me. I can’t tell you where she is, Tristan. I can’t break a promise. I would like to, but it’s in my blood. Once I make a promise, I cannot break it.” She had walked over to where he sat on the floor.

“She’s out there, she’s in trouble, and I can’t help her. I need her, Mel. I need her more than I’ve ever needed anything in my life. Not just for blood, but her. I love her.” He hadn’t even bothered getting up, but sat slumped on the floor in a pile of wood that had once been a Louie the Fourteenth chair. 

“I wish that I could help you, I truly do. She needs to finish this, Tristan. There isn’t any way for her not to. Others will die if she doesn’t.” Mel took his hand in hers. “Like me, once a promise is given, she cannot break it. She left you something, your freedom. She bargained for your life before she left. When she dies, you will be free of the bond you have with her. You will no longer be her lifemate. She wanted you to be able to live on without her.”

“She thinks that’s all it takes? Just a little magic and I won’t need her anymore?” He wouldn’t believe she thought so little of him, so little of his feelings for her. “I love her, don’t you get it? I fucking love her. I don’t think I’ve loved anything as much…she’s my life, all of it. Without her, my life isn’t just meaningless, it’s not worth living. I would rather meet the sun than to go a day without her.”

“Tristan, did you tell her that you loved her? Does she know what you just told me, that you love her with all your heart? That you’ve loved her for a very long time?”

He hadn’t, he realized. He’d never once told her that he loved her. He had called her his love plenty, but never once had he said the words, those three little words.

“I see that you haven’t. Then why should she think any differently than she does? Your freedom is granted. The moment she dies, you will be free of your bond with her and able to feed as you had before meeting her. And don’t even think about meeting the sun, bucko. You already fixed that little out. You can walk in the daylight, eat food, and everything else she can do. Once her blood mingled with yours, your fate was sealed.” She sat down on the sofa and stared at him. “And just so you know, I love the twit as well. Damn her for putting me in this position.”

“I need to find her. Please, tell me how I’m going to find her.” Before he could plead with her any more, Sara stormed into the room in much the same way he had only moments before.

“You are not going to believe what’s just happened!! The Printer, Bailey, has killed Bradley Wolff, killed him right in front of half a dozen people.”

~CHAPTER EIGHTEEN~

Bradley woke and knew immediately he was in wolf form. He also knew that he was deep within the earth, the smell of soil teasing his senses. Raising his muzzle, he sniffed the air, blood and lots of it. Some of it was his, he realized, but not all.

“You can shift at anytime. She had to pull your wolf to expedite your healing process.” The voice was deep and accented, Celtic, he thought, somewhat like his friend Colin’s.

“I should like to meet him one day,” the voice beyond the darkness said. “If that is possible after this is over. It is always nice to meet one’s clansman. Yes, I can read your mind. It is the only way I have been able to survive this many years. Shift, please. I have human food for you and when you are ready. I will light the room.”

Bradley shifted and had to sit down. He was weak and sore. His body felt abused and he was sure that if he could see it, it would be bruised. He hurt in more places than he thought he had parts for.

“Where…” His throat was sore and tight. “Where am I?”

“You are in the belly of a cave, deep within the mountains of the Netherlands. A friend of my mistress has given you shelter for now. Your throat, its soreness will dissipate soon. Are you ready to remember what transpired?” 

Bradley wasn’t sure, but he didn’t like the fog that he felt either. He was almost afraid to ask what he didn’t remember, and then chuckled. He supposed that was the point, wasn’t it? He nodded to the voice across the room.

And just like that, he suddenly remembered what had happened. It came crashing into him like a rolling boulder down a hill, picking up more and more as it went, speeding its way to the bottom. He had to put his head between his legs when the realization hit him about why he was here.

“She…that girl, she tried to kill me.” He moved then, and tried to sit up. He felt clothes hit his chest and the scent of blood increase. Someone else, a female, had entered the room. And she was injured. 

“I did kill you, as a matter of fact. Griff saved you.” She sat down hard on something. Her body sliding down the wall made him look to where she was. “Hello, Bradley, I’m the Printer, Bailey Morrison. This is my friend Griff. Please don’t be alarmed by him. He won’t hurt you. Griff, lights, if you please.” The room lit with hundreds of candles at different places around the cave. 

He noticed the creature first. He was huge and wide. A Cynogriffon, if memory served him. Then he saw the woman, a girl really. She was sitting on the floor, huddled in the corner near a pool of water. And she was bleeding very badly. Bradley, not shy about his nudity, stood up slowly and began to dress.

“Why?” His throat hurt, and talking strained it, so he used as little of it as he could.

“I guess you deserve to know. You should also know that it’s not over yet. I’m sorry, but you’ll need to remain here for a few more days. I should…Griff will take you home as soon as it’s safe.” She nodded toward the creature and he left them alone. “Several days ago, a female vamp called in a hit. At first I refused it, not even knowing who the target was. But she had information, and details that she could only have gotten from compromising my offices and computers. A lot of information.”

“So you took the hit to save your own ass? How very noble of you.” Bradley sat down and pulled the tray of covered food toward him, hunger making his belly growl. “So this was all a ploy to get money. You are a piece of work, aren’t you?”

“You’re still alive, pup, and you’d do well to keep a civil tone in your head when talking to my mistress.” Griff had pounced when he had returned and now stood over Bradley, his massive paw pressing hard into his chest. “I have not decided you are worthy of her death yet.”

“Griff, it’s okay” Bailey said. “He has every right to be pissed. But I would prefer, alpha, if you would keep a civil tone. Griff and I aren’t the only ones that are in this mountain. No, I didn’t do it to save my ass, but others, the master of his realm and his family being just a few. The information wasn’t about me, but about the people I’ve worked for. The queen is…was one of my employers, as were many other beings. Over the years, I’ve completed many hits for her, both magical and human. Your father was another person I worked for.”

“You lie! My father was a good man, and has been dead for nearly ten years. He would never stoop so low as to hire someone like you to kill another person for him.” He struggled to stand, but Griff simply growled a warning.

“Does the name August Sheppard ring a bell? I was hired to just target him, to gather information on him and bring it back to your father. Bradley Senior thought Sheppard was into drugs, selling to the younger pack members and making a profit. It wasn’t until I was on his tail for several days that I found it went much deeper than that.” Bailey shifted on the rock and continued her tale. “He was also selling the younger females, some wolf and some human, to another country to be used as prostitutes. I couldn’t come back and let your father know about the crime without leaving the others still at his mercy. The young girls with him were dying. So I killed him. Cut his throat and freed the women. Several days later, before I could let Bradley Senior know what had happened, he was killed in that car accident with your mother.” 

Bradley did remember something about the man and his father’s involvement. He had been killed not long after the grisly discovery was made. There had been ten young women dead in an abandoned building on the estate, and twenty more starved and ill. It had taken weeks to get them home again, some of the deceased never claimed.

He looked at the woman before him. That had been over ten years ago. She didn’t look any older than some of the pups in his pack. She could have only been in her mid to late teens when she had done this for his father. Then something occurred to him.

“Were my parents’ deaths in any way connected to this Sheppard?” He had never thought of the two being connected before, but now that he did, he was terrified of her answer.

“No,” she told him, sorrow evident in her voice. “Your parents’ deaths were just as it was thought, an accident. I looked into it personally just be sure.” He heard her moan deep and then Griff move to her side.

“You’re bleeding. What’s happened?” He stood now, but Griff blocked him from getting close to her.

“Your brother is a good shot. I…he was armed and I didn’t see it until too late. He couldn’t harm Griff or you wouldn’t have survived.” She moaned again, and the smell of fresh blood permeated the air.

“How bad is it?” Bradley knew it was bad. He could hear her heartbeat and it wasn’t strong. If she didn’t get medical treatment soon, she’d die. He realized that they both knew this as well. He looked at Griff and the other man shook his head sadly.

“Sit down, alpha. I don’t have a lot of…I need to explain to you why you were targeted. You have to tell…The contract was to take you out, kill you within seventy-two hours or she would kill Tristan. But I didn’t bite at that. Something in her voice told me that she wouldn’t hurt him. But then she targeted the MacManus children and the adults. While I don’t know them, contrary to popular belief, I’m not so cold hearted as to have children die, even by my hand indirectly. I’m sorry it had to be you, but you were the easiest to target. And that proved to be harder than I hoped.” She gave a short bark of laughter and then winced.

“So you faked my death, brought me here. How long will I…Christ, my grandfather! He must think I’m dead. I have to let him know. He’s an old man. This could kill him.” He moved toward what he had spied as an opening and was blocked by Griff again.

“You don’t get it, do you? There’s more to this than you remember. Think, Mr. Wolff, think about what happened.” She moved to the opening that was being blocked until she moved out. “I have to go out. I’ll be back in about an hour.”

“Mistress, you should really wait, or let me…” The rest of what Griff said was cut off from the door closing. There was no lock, but he knew that he wouldn’t make it very far.

Bradley leaned back against the wall and thought about the last thing he remembered. He’d been at the pack house. His grandparents had walked over from their house for dinner. They were walking around, just talking. He closed his eyes as it washed over him.

“Bradley, my boy, this is the best this house has looked in a coon’s age.” He and his grandfather were walking around the old gardens. Bradley had just pointed out the new ones that the new cook had insisted on having put in.

“What the hell is a coon’s age anyway?” He grinned at the old man. “Yeah, it does look good, doesn’t it? Martha is saying that this little project will save the house several hundred dollars a month during the summer months. She said I was to tell you if you pick one tomato, she’ll beat you with her broom.”

Martha had said more, but he hadn’t shared that with his grandda. She hated that he’d pick the biggest green ones for fried green tomatoes. Bradley thought they were nasty tasting when they were ripe, much less green and fried in cornmeal.

“That woman always did have a mean streak. And you tell her I’m not afraid of her old broom. I’ll just have your grandma have a little talk with her again,” his grandfather groused.

They had walked around some more, ending up on the front porch. That’s when David came by, right before supper as always, he remembered now. He and David had fought over escorting their grandmother inside. Good naturedly, of course.

The table had been groaning from the weight of all the food. Martha, even with her taking exception to his grandfather’s snitching vegetables, set a great table. He could almost taste the roasted beef and potatoes again. There was green beans and corn on the cob. Plus, she had made homemade noodles, Bradley’s favorite. The tea his grandmother made that was so sweet most of the pack shied away from drinking it and given no choice, would dump it in a potted plant or over the rail if they were lucky enough to be outside.

He tensed now, remembering David saying something about Tristan being mated to a woman no one had met. And wondering what kind of person she was. It was said that she was giving him a run for his money, and Aaron was enjoying the hell out of it.

He felt the presence seconds before the creature—he knew it was Griff now—appeared on the table, standing in the middle, growling at everyone there. He had his clawed paws, swiping at anyone who got close enough to try and stop him. Then his hair…someone pulled his hair hard, had grabbed a handful and yanked his head back, exposing his neck. The blade, holy good Christ, she had slit his throat. He felt his blood, warm, running down his chest. He’d tried to hold it, stop the flow, but he was fading fast. The room became fuzzy. He remembered the gun now; he’d heard it at least twice and someone screaming. Then nothing. He knew he had died. She really had killed him.

~~~

She had killed Bradley. Her contract was to kill Bradley, the alpha wolf of the largest pack in the United States. No wonder she thought she wouldn’t walk away, every being in the United States was looking for her.

That thought had been circling around Tristan’s head for the past three hours and he was no closer to believing it now than he had been when it started.

She had said that she had had no choice. Why? Why didn’t she have a choice? And even if she did somehow live through the gunshot wounds, the entire wolf population was out to get her, not to mention every vampire within the realms Aaron knew. That must be what she meant when she said she wouldn’t live through this, that she would be killed.

And she had been shot. No one was sure how many times, or where the bullets had entered her. But there was enough blood to indicate that she had taken at least one, maybe as many as two. David had said that she had stepped in front of his gun when he went to fire at this large creature that had come before she killed Bradley. 

But Griff was an immortal. The bullets wouldn’t hurt him. Maybe weaken him, but not kill him. He sat up. Griff couldn’t be weakened, he realized then. Bailey needed him at full strength. Why?

He went to see Mel. He would get answers or else.

“I don’t care why you’re here, but I want you to go back where you came from. Why I gave you free access it beyond me.” He hadn’t even spoken yet and Mel was already fussing at him.

“Tell me where she is, Mel. I need to find her. I’m in love with her and I want to find her to tell her.” She was in the estate room. Her mother was there too. Tristan knew Bailey needed him, but without her help, he couldn’t go to her.

“No, no, no! Damn it, Tristan, didn’t you ever hear that word as a child? No!” She was pacing the floor and kept looking at the side door, and now that he noticed, so did her mother.

“I don’t remember, damn it. That was nearly forever ago. What’s going on?” The door opened and in stepped her father. And the relief was evident on her face.

“Oh thank goodness. Now, Tristan, ask me again.” She looked so happy, he nearly missed what she said. “Ask me, damn it!”

“Melody! Was that necessary? Poor man has been through enough. His poor mate is the target of a viscous man hunt. Is it a man hunt when it’s a woman? I don’t know that I’ve ever run into that before. I’ll have to look it up on the Internet to see if there is a difference in gender hunts.” James pulled out a small pad of paper and wrote himself a note before sitting on the sofa.

“Tristan St. James, ask. Me. The. Fucking. Question. And yes, it is necessary. Dad, please, I love you, but please be quiet.” She was growling at him, he thought.