SEDUCTIVE SUPERNATURALS: 12 Tales of Shapeshifters, Vampires & Sexy Spirits (221 page)

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Authors: Erin Quinn,Caridad Pineiro,Erin Kellison,Lisa Kessler,Chris Marie Green,Mary Leo,Maureen Child,Cassi Carver,Janet Wellington,Theresa Meyers,Sheri Whitefeather,Elisabeth Staab

Tags: #12 Tales of Shapeshifters, #Vampires & Sexy Spirits

BOOK: SEDUCTIVE SUPERNATURALS: 12 Tales of Shapeshifters, Vampires & Sexy Spirits
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He pulled one hand away from her hip so he could hold her breast, his thumb making delicious circles around her nipple, then grasping her breast gently and drawing one bud into his mouth, softly sucking and drawing on it until she moaned.

Having his mouth on her somehow sent fresh waves of heat to her core and she squeezed against his erection in rhythm with him as he sucked...then he withdrew his mouth gently and turned his attention to the other breast, drawing the bud into his mouth, rhythmically sucking and pulling at her nipple…until she couldn’t bear it a moment more.

Groaning, she pulled away from his mouth so she could once more sink against him until he disappeared within her. Again, she ground her hips against his, pressing her clitoris against his shaft as she found the perfect position to pleasure herself as she pleasured him. This time, he grasped her waist, encouraging her rhythm, changing it slightly, pulling her hard against him and then slowly pulling her away, their bodies in exquisite harmony, the tempo of their lovemaking soon spinning their world in sweet agony.

A moan escaped Jackson’s lips as she felt them both release and she joined him in the shared moment of uncontrolled, shuddering ecstasy. As she slumped against his chest, he held her tightly against him. They lay for a long moment before either dared speak.

Finally Jackson cleared his throat. “I’ve never felt like this before,” he began, “it’s never been like this for me.”

“It almost felt...dangerous...didn’t it?”

“I’ve never felt so...strongly before, Rose. Did you feel it, too?”

“Yes. Like we were meant to be together. There were times when I couldn’t tell us apart. Our bodies were so…joined—it felt like we would never be apart again.”

“And I don’t want us to be apart. You’ll stay with me tonight, won’t you?”

“Of course. There’s nowhere I’d rather be than with you—right here, right now.”

Jackson drew her closer and wrapped his arms snugly around her. She still grasped him inside her and he felt a oneness, a belonging that he’d stopped dreaming he’d ever find. He knew things would never be the same now...now that he had fallen in love.

 

Forever Rose: Chapter Twenty-Seven

 

 

Taylor’s eyes blinked open, immediately confused—not quite sure where she was. A split second later, though, she realized she was snuggled against Jackson, whose own eyes slowly blinked open. A lazy smile curved his lips upward and he pulled her close in an affectionate squeeze.

“You’re still here,” he murmured and kissed her forehead.

Before she could reply, her stomach rumbled noisily, sending them both into fits of laughter.

“Well, I can’t help it,” she explained, “I’m hungry.”

“And, hopefully, I’m partly responsible for giving you a good appetite,” he added.

She turned her head and glanced at the food tray on the table. “Well, I did bring a dinner tray last night.”

“All right, my hungry one, let’s have a snack and rebuild our strength.” His smile changed to a wicked grin as he dramatically threw the covers back.

Taylor playfully jumped out of bed and raced to the table where she had placed the dinner tray, with Jackson not far behind, pausing to pull on his trousers and grab his shirt for her to wear.

“Here you go, put this on so you won’t catch a chill.”

She slipped her arms into the sleeves of his shirt and turned to face him. With unexpected delicacy, he fastened each button while she stood silently, captivated by his almost dainty movements.

Answering her quizzical expression, he smiled and said, “Towards the end of my mother’s illness, I had to help her a lot. I dressed her and fed her; took care of her as best I could.” His voice reflected his loss and a look of tired sadness swept over his features.

Taylor wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled him to her in a long embrace. She could actually feel the grief in his body—his muscles felt tense, restrained, tired.

She held him until she felt his body relax—as though years of stress and worry eased just a little. It was a beginning.

“She was lucky to have you there with her. You were a good son.”

“I don’t know...it just seems like she shouldn’t have died, you know? Such a horrible sickness, a horrible way to die.”

Silently, she agreed. And if his mother had been living in
her
time, she probably wouldn’t have died of Tuberculosis at all.

“Come on,” she said, hoping to shake away the lingering gloom, “let’s have a bite to eat. Dinner should taste just as good for breakfast—and, besides, we need to keep our strength up, right?”

“Yes we do,” he answered, giving her a squeeze before he released her.

As they sat at the table, she busied herself fixing two heaping plates of food from the feast that Maylee had prepared, and soon both were happily enjoying roast beef and cabbage salad.

Jackson watched her with amusement as she eagerly consumed all the food on her plate and reached for a piece of cake.

“No wonder your stomach was growling—you look like you haven’t eaten in a week.”

Gracefully, she wiped the crumbs from the corners of her mouth. “Well, I’ve been a bit preoccupied lately solving mysteries—so, who had time to eat, anyway?  Now,” she asked teasingly, “are you gonna eat that piece of cake or what?”

“Touch my cake and lose your hand,” he said as he grabbed the plate and moved his dessert out of her reach.

Moving her empty plate out of the way she watched Jackson finish his meal. Positioning her elbows on the table, she held her chin in her hands and stared at the devastatingly handsome man sitting across from her. His wavy black hair was messy from being in bed, and she wanted to bury her fingers in the silky curls. A dark shadow of whiskers had formed on his wonderful face, his eyes a turquoise blue of tropical ocean water, still and deep. She wanted to look into those eyes forever, but she knew she’d better enjoy the chance she had right now...just in case.

Jackson lifted his gaze from his plate and stared back at her. “Go ahead,” he said

“What?”

“Ask me whatever it is that you’re thinking about,” he replied, pushing his plate away. “It’s all right.”

“Well, I was really just enjoying being with you and hoping it wouldn’t end.”

“And?”

“And,” she continued, “I guess I was sort of memorizing your face. I’m feeling just a little insecure, I suppose, because I’m not sure where we stand...with each other....”  Her voice faded to a whisper. She hadn’t realized how fearful she had become in the face of the fact that she might not be with Jackson forever.

“And there’s no way your father can tell you if you’re staying, right? So, there’s really nothing we can do to change whatever is going to happen. I may be simplifying things a little, but I was raised to believe that if it’s something you can do something about, do it. If it’s something you can’t, then live with it.”

She nodded, beginning to understand the comfort in the simplistic conventions of the era. And it really wasn’t that much different from many people’s philosophies in her own time. Jackson’s drive to avenge what he had perceived as the wrongful death of his father was plainly a matter of seeing that consequences were paid.

“Shit!” Jackson slapped his hand on the table, causing her to gasp in surprise. “I’ve got to go talk to Mr. Earp and warn him about the McLaurey brothers! Now that should be one interesting conversation...” He closed his eyes, shaking his head.

He was right. There was more explaining to do.

Eyes now wide with worry, Jackson scooted his chair back and began pacing the floor. “He’ll probably have me thrown in jail before I can even get the whole story out. What’ll I tell him to make him understand?”

 

* * *

 

“Jackson, what are you doing here on your day off?”

Wyatt Earp was behind the bar when Jackson and a young woman walked in the door of the saloon. He had a soft spot in his heart for the young man, and he had been devastated when his wife had come to him with some crazy story about his bartender getting involved with the McLaurey boys. He had reassured her that he would confront Jackson with her accusations and get to the bottom of things at the next opportunity.

And it looked like opportunity had just walked through the door.

“Mr. Earp, this is Rose Martin. Could we have a few words with you?”

Wyatt stepped out from behind the bar to extend his hand. “Pleased to meet you, Miss Martin.” He gazed into her eyes and squinted at their familiarity. “Have we met somewhere before, ma’am?”

“Well, sort of...” She squeezed his hand, then released it to point at one of the tables towards the back of the gambling area. “Shall we sit?”

 

* * *

 

Jackson followed her lead and walked toward the table. When they were all seated, he cleared his throat and hoped that he would choose the right words to convince Earp that he was no longer interested in killing him. As he began, he felt Rose’s hand on his knee, squeezing it with encouragement.

When Wyatt had heard the entire story of the murderous plot, he leaned back in his chair and placed his hands behind his neck.

“Well, I’ll be,” he began, “I guess Josie was right about you being up to something with the McLaurey boys.”

Jackson looked at Rose in surprise, then brought his gaze back to Wyatt. “How did she know?”

“She said she followed you one night over to the Acme Saloon. I guess she heard you talkin’ to them and finally came to tell me about it.”

“So,
she
followed me that night too. I was so sure that someone was following me, but I thought Rose was the only one.”

“Well, I promised Josie I’d get to the bottom of it, and I guess we just did, didn’t we? I thought San Diego might be different,” Wyatt said, shaking his head. “I thought I might have gotten away from all the darn fools with crazy plans to gun me down.”

Jackson examined Earp’s face for hints of his real reaction to the murder plot. His expression had hardly changed during the entire conversation, making his mood difficult to peg.
Poker face
.

“So, I guess we ought to either find the two scoundrels or come up with a plan to stop them.” Wyatt glanced first at Jackson and then Rose. “Any ideas, you two?”

“Well,” Jackson began, “there’s no way for me to contact them at this point. That’s the problem. We’re set for this Saturday night.”

“But, I can’t have them arrested just for coming in the place,” Wyatt muttered, “and I sure as hell don’t want to give them another chance, even if I do scare ‘em off.”

“This is probably not what you had in mind,” said Rose, “but have you considered allowing them to come in, let them just get to the point where they are arguing and Jackson is supposed to pull his gun...and
then
have them arrested for conspiracy to murder? Jackson, you’d have to testify—”

“—not a problem. I’d be happy to.”

Wyatt rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Not the best idea in the world, but it’s probably the only real way to foil the plan and send a clear message to the McLaurey boys.” He looked at Jackson. “And you think we can pull this off safely?”

Jackson and Rose exchanged serious looks, then both nodded their answer.

“Well, so be it,” declared Wyatt. His face erupted into a warm smile as Josie suddenly appeared in the doorway next to the end of the bar.

“And I agree,” Josie confirmed as she walked toward the threesome at the table, her face radiating relief and determination.”

“Ah, Sadie,” he said, “won’t you join us?” Wyatt rose from his chair and pulled another out for his wife. “You’ve been eavesdropping, have you?”

“Well, what do you expect? Someone around here has to be concerned about fools wanting to gun you down right and left.”

“And you exaggerate, my darling.” Wyatt scowled good-naturedly at Josie. “I sure hoped San Diego would be a place where a man could settle down. Now I’m not too sure. City’s getting too darn big. Too many people. Maybe we need to find us a quiet place out in the desert somewhere.

Jackson regarded the affectionate arguing between Wyatt and Josie. Their love for each other was indisputable, evident in the sparkle in their eyes and the electricity they produced together.

Finally taking her attention away from Wyatt, Josie turned to Rose and extended her hand. “It’s good to see you again, Rose, and I’m certainly glad the circumstances are positive. I was a bit worried about your connection to all of this, you know.”

Rose took Josie’s hand in hers and replied, “And I’m glad that all the pieces fell into place before something dreadful happened...believe me.”

Josie patted Rose’s hand in an almost motherly way that surprised him. Though both women were close to the same age, Josie’s twenty-four had seen rough and ragged days, something he had a feeling Rose could never understand. Though she had aged emotionally due to her experiences, her exterior portrayed a young, exotic temptress in love with a legendary lawman.

“I have a feeling, everything will work out just fine,” Josie said.

Jackson hoped so. And there was something else he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Something Rose had said…something that made him wonder about her connection to Josie, that they were supposed to meet…something like that.

Another mystery.

 

Forever Rose: Chapter Twenty-Eight

 

 

Will McLaurey leaned casually against the corner of the building across the street from Wyatt Earp’s gambling saloon, then pulled out his pocket watch to check the time. He’d sent Dean into the saloon fifteen minutes earlier to help add to the illusion that they didn’t know one another.

Will shook his head in frustration, and his stomach tightened nervously as he walked to the back of the building to check the getaway horses for the fifth and final time. All three horses were still tied securely to the rail, though, just to be safe, he inspected each of them one last time.

No detail too small.

He still had regrets about bringing Dean into the plan. He was too young. Too jumpy—and he’d be glad when they were on their horses and leaving San Diego in their dust.

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