A Spartan's Kiss

by Billi Jean

  Aeros sucked in a breath at the word whore. His body turned to steel the more the crazy goddess spoke, but when the witch threw Tabithia’s past out at them, even showing her cutting herself, Tab had enough. Something inside snapped.

  “What the hell!” She broke away from Aeros and stood, fists clenched, power filling her as she faced the witch. “You little whore. How dare you? I’ve lived and you’ve what? Read books? Played with your damn animals and men’s lives, it would seem! Where were you all these centuries, getting a manicure? If you wanted Aeros, you should have stepped up to the plate, chica. It’s too late to call foul ball now. He’s mine and no one, not Ares, not you, will take him from me. Got it?”

  She added a blast of power on the last and shoved the goddess back against the nearest tree, about three hundred feet away. Holding her there, she made sure the little goddess could hear every word she said.

  “And if I catch you near me or near Aeros again? I’ll let him kick your ass.”

  Aeros stood next to her and chuckled. “Damn straight, baby. Now let up on the goddess, so she can leave.”

  “As long as she doesn’t come back.”

  Artemis fell to the forest floor, gasping and holding her throat. She struggled up and glared at them both. Head up, she straightened her robes and gradually drew closer. Tab kept her power ready, and Aeros, her man, brought his sword up.

  “You heard her, Artemis. Tabithia is mine. And I am hers. Always hers.”

  Making a nasty face, the goddess sniffed and glared at them, then over at the Three. “This is your fault.”

  “Nay, ‘tis your fault. Aeros was always made for Tabithia, just as Tabithia was meant to give him enough strength to want to live. They are parts to the same whole, Greek. Best remember that.”

  “If you ever want to, you know, break the mood again,” the warrior Bridget muttered. “Now, go. We have a ceremony to perform.”

  With another dirty look, Artemis spun and disappeared in a flash of light. What an actress. Tabithia rolled her eyes at the youngest Bridget, and the child smiled over at her.

  “You kick ass when you wish, little witch,” Bridget called, tugging her bow out of sight again. “I worried for a bit there, with the little cutting scene, but you have closed the page on that part of your life. Aeros will heal you, as you will heal him, I believe. But maybe work on the temper, eh? And maybe work on trusting your instinct more, Aeros and Tabithia.”

  “Aye,” Aeros murmured and captured Tabithia for a big hug. “I am sorry, Tabithia for not telling you I knew and for not telling you my fears.”

  “Oh, Aeros, I’m sorry too. I wanted to tell you, to talk about it with you, but after the alley, and your home, it just never felt like the right time, and it was such a good time. I think”—she broke off and took a deep, stress-free breath—“I think maybe Bridget is right. That part of my life has changed. Let’s just say you and Trouble have given me something more to fill it.”

  “Ah.” Aeros grinned and snatched a quick, hard kiss. “I will fill your life, with love, so much love Tabithia.”

  “You love me.”

  It wasn’t a question, but her Spartan gave her a smouldering look. “Always. I’ll love you always. And beyond, Tabithia.”

  She squealed from pure delight and didn’t even try to stop the happy sound.

  Aeros grinned his cocky, heart-stopping grin and picked her up, spinning her in place.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  “Aeros, put her down, you’ll get her too dizzy to say the words.”

  Tabithia sucked in a breath and cupped Aeros’ face, pressing wet kisses all over him as he set her down. She grinned up at him and turned towards what had to be her two aunts. Trouble he knew, but Sorcha he’d not met. Not even in council. She looked a great deal like her niece but not as vibrant. Tabithia laughed. She sounded so happy he couldn’t stop smiling. She glanced up at him and tiptoed to press a kiss to his jaw.

  “Be right back.”

  He didn’t stop her from racing over to her aunts. She practically toppled the two other women with the hug she gave them. He walked over in time to hear her aunts whispering.

  “Goddess, I’m proud of you,” Trouble murmured in her hair.

  “Ah, Tabithia, my love, you are whole, are you not?” Sorcha pulled back from their group hug to meet her eyes.

  “I am.” She tossed her hair and gave him a happy look. “We both are.”

  Sorcha lifted a delicate eyebrow and nodded. “Then we’d best get this ceremony started.”

  Aeros cleared his throat. He’d been ready to bond her at home, even here in the glen, but a ceremony? He’d not brought the ring he’d found for her. Tabithia turned to him. She was so beautiful, and he was so damn lucky she’d forgiven him.

  He swallowed twice before he could speak. “I don’t have her ring.”

  She smiled and wiggled out of her aunts’ arms. “We don’t need a ring, just our words—those bind us.”

  Just their words. He’d told her he loved her, but she’d not said the same. Something of his thoughts must have been clear to her for she walked up to him, closing the distance until she could reach up and touch his jaw. Her touch felt necessary. Her green eyes turned soft and warm and she leaned against his chest so that her body rested on his. His arms came up and curled around her automatically. She felt so right. All of this felt so quick, the truth about Ares and Dare, Artemis and her crazy accusations and now Tabithia in his arms. But her lovely face, full of such tenderness, reminded him of every other time she’d met his eyes. Love simmered there. He hoped.

  “I love you, Aeros.”

  Ah, God, his vision blurred like a baby. “I love you, Tabithia.” He sounded choked and later he’d be embarrassed but right now, with her looking at him like he could lift the world on his shoulders for her, he simply let her words settle over him. She loved him.

  “With this breath, with this body,” she began, “with this heart,” she cupped his hand over her heart and did the same to him. “I freely bind myself to you for all time.”

  Sweet gods. “With this breath,” he leant down and took her lips, kissing her thoroughly before drawing back far enough to say, “with this heart, I freely bind myself to you for all time, Tabithia.”

  Instantly, the palm he had over her heart warmed and tingled until he felt his body trembling like a tuning fork. Light flooded him. Pure, beautiful Tabithia filled every secret place of his lonely soul and surrounded him with love and laughter. Against his body, he felt her shiver and gasp as the binding deepened until their hearts became one.

  “With those vows, you are bound for all eternity. Life, happiness and love await you both.” The words dimmed and the sunshine slowly eased away until the warmth from their fireplace replaced it.

  “Oh!” Tabithia huffed a laugh and shook her head against their coverlet. “Roses.”

  He lifted his head and glanced around them. They were in his home—their home—but the bedroom was lit by the soft glow of firelight, and red rose petals left a trail across the floor all the way to the bed. “Beautiful.” He gazed down at her smiling face and brushed a kiss to her lips. “Can you ditch our clothes without me having to move, baby?”

  She laughed, and, with a small wave of her slender hand, their clothes disappeared.

  He frowned. “Now how long have you been able to do that?”

  “Mmm, I don’t know. No one ever asked me to before.”

  He laughed and sank his naked body down on hers. “Well, let’s keep it that way. From now on, I’ll let you do that, and in turn? You’ll let me do this.” He shifted his hips and sank into her. They both moaned at the feel, and deep inside he felt her pleasure at his touch, just as he knew she felt his.

  “Oh, that is a deal, Sparkie. But just remember, we need to seal this deal, over and over and over.”

  “And over, baby,” he added with a slow, leisurely thrust of his hips. He bent his head and nipped at her throat, earning a low moan from Tabithia. She w
rapped her slender thighs around his hips and met his next thrust with one of her own.

  He bent to brush a light kiss against her jaw, not even needing to look to find her mouth. She whispered his name against his lips and tugged his head down until he kissed her more thoroughly. Their bond sizzled with their passion, and he shivered at the feel of her rising need.

  “Love you, baby.”

  She smiled and slid her hands around to cup his ass. “Show me,” she whispered in his ear.

  Aeros groaned again and cupped her closer. “All night, baby. All night.”

  “That’s a start, my love.”

  He laughed and rolled, bringing her up and over his body while keeping himself firmly seated in her wet heat. She sucked in a breath, making her lush breasts quiver too close to his mouth for him to resist. Curling his arms around her lower back, he thrust into her and latched onto one breast.

  Eternity. He’d show her such love that she’d never know darkness and pain again—only pleasure and more happiness than either of them could contain.

  “Oh, yes, yes, Aeros, just like that.”

  He smiled against her tight nipple and surged upward, tightening his hold when he felt her spiral into an orgasm.

  “Always, baby,” he managed, feeling more happiness settle over him than he’d ever dreamed possible.

  He held Tabithia, willing and loving Tabithia, in his arms, and with another cry she bent to capture his lips for a kiss, whispering his name once more before she began rolling her hips and stole his breath.

  “Always, my love. Always sounds very good. Now let me show you,” she murmured.

  With a sultry smile she rose up to display every inch of her beauty for him. No longer was his Tabithia shy and unsure, but so bold she sizzled along his senses.

  “Ah, baby, you do that, then it’s my turn again,” he said, pulling her down by his grip on her waist to whisper in her ear, “and maybe, this time, I’ll be the one tying you up.”

  The rush of excitement surging through their bond was all the permission he needed to flip her to her back and capture her lips for his kiss.

  Also available from Total-E-Bound Publishing:

  Running Scared

  Billi Jean

  Excerpt

  Chapter One

  There has to be some kind of mistake.

  The MapQuest directions sat on the truck seat next to Lacey, outlining that this was the right exit. She hadn’t accidentally decided to take a wrong turn. Besides, there weren’t any decisions in her life right now, only directions. She smiled at the thought. Yeah, her attempts at making colossal, life-changing decisions had landed her here, in the middle of nowhere, with no one and nothing around her.

  Well, not exactly nothing. There were mountains everywhere. Huge, monstrous mountains, like the kind you could see on the Travel Channel seconds before some giant paw-waving, open-mouthed, roaring grizzly ate the cameraman.

  Oh, yeah, this had to be some kind of mistake. Lacey needed the beach. And people. At this point, she’d settle for a pizza from her favourite beach shack. To hell with anyone else. She needed out of this truck, she realised, surprising herself with a broken mini-sob.

  There wasn’t a car in sight when she pulled her truck off the turn lane and stopped a few hundred yards onto the cracked asphalt of the old highway.

  Two fumbles at jerking the door handle open, and she jumped down, the map in her hand. Blue sky, a cold November breeze, clean air and mountains filled her senses immediately. One deep breath, two, and half the tension simmering along her skin disappeared. Not the unease, though. The breeze felt different from home. Smelt different. Was different.

  This has to be a mistake.

  She rubbed her hand through her hair at the thought. Yeah, sure, this had to be a mistake, right? Wrong. Throughout this mess, she’d kept thinking that any time now she’d wake up, that this couldn’t be happening, that there had to be some kind of freaking mistake. Life couldn’t turn from normal to horrible in the blink of an eye. A decision to go outside a club trying to avoid a creepy guy couldn’t destroy everything she’d worked so hard to build.

  But, yeah, one look at the rugged, wilderness reminded her that, yeah, one thoughtless decision had ripped her life to shreds.

  If she could reverse time, she’d—what? If she’d known that by leaving the bar she’d witness a mob hit, would she have taken her chances with the creepy guy? Probably not.

  So here she was, standing on the side of a road on what looked like some crazy Wild West movie set.

  Reality sucked. Delusions worked so much better—at least for about ten seconds. Lacey hadn’t witnessed a murder. She hadn’t been beaten to within an inch of losing her life. She hadn’t spent months in a hospital trying to breathe on her own. She hadn’t been forced to testify against some of the nastiest criminals in the world. She hadn’t been left out to dry like this, forced to move, alone, to a place so remote and far from normal she might as well have been on another planet.

  She was used to people, sunshine that smelt like the ocean…heck, music and noise, for God’s sake. She was used to delis filled with adorable little old Italian men, smiling at her and asking about her day. She was used to Jewish bakeries with bagels that she’d get up at seven for on a Sunday morning. She was used to coffee shops brewing wicked espresso by the cup. She was used to nice people. Beaches. Safety.

  The landscape facing her she was not used to. Big open grasslands, lined with the brilliant colours of fall foliage. Yellow and burnt cinnamon, deep green pines next to the white bark of some other kind of tree—beech or aspen, she didn’t know—all created a wildly beautiful picture.

  The view gave her the creeps. Maybe she was afraid of wide-open spaces. Agoraphobia was a possibility.

  Humour bubbled up and she rubbed her face with both hands. The map crumpled a little, reminding her of the brutal reality of her new life. She was running scared. Nothing was going to change that. Not standing here, not staring off at the mountains, nothing.

  So many regrets washed over her. Tears stung her eyes—she felt like they were clogging her throat. Lacey fought them and ignored the deep hollow pit in her stomach.

  She needed a plan. Action washed all the turmoil aside—always had. She’d always filled her life with action. Being forced to sit in a truck for days on end had driven her slightly insane, no doubt.

  The real estate office in Troy couldn’t be too far. She’d find that, then her home, and see her new address for the next… Ah, God, who knew how long she’d be here?

  Forever?

  And didn’t that thought put a huge dollop of pity into her pity-party sundae? Two blinks and the tears held off, so she focused on the mountains. The peaks looked white, possibly ten feet deep in snow by now. She could hike up to that snow; feel the cold on her face, maybe trail run along the ridges and ravines? They would be a challenge. Something to do. Later, maybe, after she’d settled in.

  A truck slowed behind her, bringing the heartbeat she’d settled down to normal skyrocketing. What felt like ice water flooded her veins, while goosebumps beaded along her arms and a huge whoosh of adrenaline raced through her veins. The FBI agents had been clear: do not act anything but normal. What that meant, really, after all she’d endured, was a bit unclear. She didn’t feel normal in her own skin, let alone here in this wilderness. Besides, she doubted she would look normal to a small western town filled with redneck cowboys. She was a beach babe, had always been one, and didn’t think the changes of hair and scenery were going to make a difference.

  Truck doors closed and she turned to face two guys—two cowboys, she corrected herself, taking in their jeans, rough looking tan jackets, scuffed boots and dusty black cowboy hats. Both walked over, and she panicked. What was she supposed to say?

  They don’t look Russian. The thought ran a frantic circle in her mind, followed by, what does a Russian hitman actually look like? God, did he have to be Russian? Or even a he? A humorous hysteria built up, but
she took a deep breath and clenched her hand around the map. She steeled herself not to take a step backward as both men walked right up, almost breaking her bubble of personal space.

  “Miss, can we help ya out?” The blond guy stopped a few feet from her. At least six feet two, broad shouldered, his face worn with sun and weather, he towered over her five feet three inches. His blue eyes crinkled in a smile that looked genuine enough, but it slowly faded when she didn’t respond.

  She managed a shaky smile.

  He glanced at the other guy and so did she.

  The other guy wasn’t smiling. She caught a flash of his grey eyes in a lean, tough face set in a stern expression. Dark brows, dark shadow on a square jaw, he reminded her of the FBI agents. With broad shoulders packed with muscles, he was handsome in a rough and rugged sort of way. Her heart skipped around.

  Lacey was normally a picky kind of girl. Not picky as in the guy had to be this way or that—she never knew what would attract her—but picky as in not many men drew a second glance. She couldn’t pinpoint her attraction to a certain look or background or genetic makeup she could name, but this guy had it, whatever it was. And he had it in a bad way. Her heart fluttered in her chest. Her skin tingled, and not because of the cold air. Suddenly very conscious of the scar along her temple, she forced herself not to brush her hair over her forehead to hide the damage.

  She was on the run, starting a new life alone, and now her heart was tripping against her ribs for a guy she hadn’t even met. Life was strange.

  Suddenly Lacey realised she’d not spoken. With heat hitting her cheeks, she broke eye contact and turned to the first guy, but the other man took a step closer and instantly drew her complete attention.

  “Trouble?” the darker-haired guy asked.

  Oh, yeah, he was a heartbreaker. He had a deep, kinda rough voice, but crisp and used to authority, which reminded her in an odd way of her father. And made her groan inside her head because, yeah, deep voices like that made her weak in the knees. And from a guy that looked like this? Bad, very bad.