Hearts on Fire: Romance Multi-Author Box Set Anthology

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Hearts on Fire: Romance Multi-Author Box Set Anthology Page 27

by Violet Vaughn


  “I know.” He pulled me into him. Or perhaps I leaned that way. “There’s something else I want.”

  I looked up at him to find his dark, sad eyes on Jasiri. A tingle of hope fluttered at my heart. “What’s that?”

  “To be a part of Jasiri’s life, not an accomplice in her death. I think I only saw what Brandon wanted me to see of WildLot. If I’d done my due diligence…” The arm around my shoulder began to shake. In anger? Frustration? Sorrow? At that moment I wanted to know everything about Peter’s past so I could better judge the current him based on the history that had molded him.

  “Is the jumbe position still open?” he asked.

  I nodded. “The terms, though, haven’t changed.”

  “No,” he said. “But I think maybe I have.”

  9

  Peter

  I’d let myself be compromised. Not because I trusted too much—trust was a commodity I’d sold back in Afghanistan—but because I was tired. Tired of idealism, tired of the world, tired of caring.

  Tired enough that I was willing to take Brandon’s charming words at face value even though klaxons were screaming off in my head. Tired enough to not care.

  And when Nicky had walked away, I was tired enough to not follow.

  Well, now I was tired of being a fool.

  If I wanted back in the life, to feel again, then the best chance I had at being the kind of man I wanted to be stood now in the shelter of my arm.

  And Jasiri…

  What had I almost done to a soul as broken as my own? I shut my eyes against the days of rage when I had lashed out at the world in my own way, no different than what Jasiri was doing now—and even then she had far more reason. Everything dear to her had been brutally ripped from her. Not just precious family, but the love and security that was a part of them. And now even her freedom was forfeit.

  The clarity of the moment when Nicky had finally gotten through to me was when I understood Jasiri fully.

  And my soul wept for her.

  If it was in my power, I wouldn’t let her—or Nicky—down.

  I held my breath waiting for Nicky’s answer. I had come here intent on betraying her trust in the fulfillment of my orders, my boss’s desires. She was no pushover, but she did seem to have the capacity to open her heart to those who needed her most.

  Could she see how much I needed her?

  She pushed away from me, arm’s length. My hope sank—except that she held my hand yet, rubbing her thumb along my knuckles as she studied me intently. I held my ground, awaiting her verdict.

  “There’s an apartment in the back where you can stay. It’s half a duplex. Steve is in the other half, and there’s another duplex next to it where Melea and Abasi live. There’s a living room, bedroom, kitchen and bath—that’s about all. But it’s dry and fairly private.”

  I had been taught too well to never let the enemy—or even friends—know the depth of my feelings. So I raised my eyebrows in mock surprise. “You expect me to move?”

  She quirked her lip and the sudden glint in her eye matched the banter in her voice. “You’ll find I’ll be expecting a lot from you, Mr. Lawson.”

  I drew her back to me, and she came willing into my space, our faces barely more than a handwidth from each other.

  “You’ll find I’ll always be at your…service…Doctor Nic.”

  I thought I moved first, but our lips touched so fast that couldn’t have been the case.

  On her full lips was the taste of forgiveness, her heady scent that of second chances. It was on me alone now to succeed or fail.

  And how I performed for her now would have nothing to do with how I performed with her between the sheets.

  As a matter of fact, the sun-scented sheets on her full bed encouraged my best performance. She led me to them after our satisfying meal, on plates Kapuki seemed determined to keep replenished, and a cup of rich, bitter tea.

  “You do know the tea is moringa? It’s considered an aphrodisiac.” Nicky laughed, as I sipped mine down with a spoonful of honey. “Apparently Kapuki thinks we need help in that department.”

  “The only aphrodisiac I need is you. Just thinking about you on the way up here was enough to get me bothered. Sitting with you, seeing you… God, I’ve been hard since we first sat down.” Uncomfortably so. And talking about it was making me harder still.

  “Me too.” I didn’t doubt her. Her eyes were bright with desire. When she pushed her plate back and stood up, the invitation to join her was clear. I didn’t hesitate.

  We kicked off our safari boots and I watched as she unbuttoned her blouse, remembering the feel of those perfect breasts under my palms, watching the gentle sway of them as she stripped off her shorts. My attention fell then to the jut of hip and the firm arc of her butt as she bent to slide off her socks. She straightened slowly, intentionally provocative, until my focus was on the strip of trimmed curls below her well-defined waist and the taut muscles of her abs, tautening even more under my stare.

  I was never a man to define myself through sex, but Nicky didn’t just touch something Neanderthal in me, she mauled it. Being in the same room with her meant me needing to prove myself, my manhood—not just to her, but to me as well.

  Especially when she kept refusing me on the business side. Twice now she’d tempted me with the job, then refused to hire me. And then refusing me her elephant today…

  Women talked easily about worth and self-respect. How asserting themselves was a triumph. I didn’t always get that—years in the army spent in the company of alpha males tended to reinforce male dominance—but somehow I’d evolved. Somehow I’d found respect and appreciation for the opposite sex. Sameera had been a big part of that. She’d—

  No. I couldn’t think about her. Not here. Not now.

  Especially not now.

  Where the idea of women constantly asserting themselves failed was when men never got the chance to do likewise. Three times now Nicky had struck me down in the metaphorical boardroom. And as petty and Neanderthal-brained as it was, that made me even more determined to prove myself in the bedroom.

  I stripped in a flash, my cock eagerly trying to bridge the distance between Nicky and me. Naked, I knew I had power. Not every woman responded to it in the same visceral way as Nicky did, but here in this room, with the ceiling fan humming overhead, we challenged one another on equal ground. In a battle that would be won only if both sides fought to a draw.

  We embraced, lips on lips, my hands splayed across her hips drawing her into me, the length of my hard promise pressed between us from thigh to stomach.

  She wrapped her hands around my shoulders and our tongues clashed. Then her tongue was gone and she was nipping at my lower lip, my chin. Her hands slipped from my shoulders and slid down my back. Then she was nipping at the nub on my right pec and I was left with the scent of coconut and vanilla shampoo as my nostrils flared over the top of her head.

  Then her tongue was playing in the hair at the center of my chest and she was sinking down, her tongue following the sensitive skin of my midline across the top ridges of my abs and tickling in my navel. Behind, her firm hands found the planes of my butt and lingered there while the indescribable agony of her slow tongue went on.

  She was on her knees now, still avoiding the goal where we both knew she was headed. Lips sucking on the first curls, she glanced up, the tease clear in her eyes as she drank in the torture on my face.

  Who was I kidding about who held the power in this room?

  The fall of her hair showered over my cock, every strand a jolt of electricity against it. It quivered with the anticipation. I quivered with it.

  “Do it,” I pleaded.

  Eyes on mine still, she dropped her mouth further, running that tease of a tongue along the base, circling till she touched the intersection of skin between cock and balls. She pulsed her tongue there once, twice, three times and I nearly came right then, my whole body tensing as her eyes glittered in triumph.

  Only
then did she stroke her tongue up along the underside of my cock, circling the tip with her tongue. I waited to feel her take it all.

  “Condom,” she breathed.

  I panicked. After that first time, I hadn’t thought…didn’t really think we’d be doing this again.

  “Top drawer.” She nodded to the dresser just within reach, though I had to stretch away from her to see inside the unfamiliar depths. Beside an array of panties and bras I found the box—already opened, though I tried not to think about what that might mean—and passed her one of the flat packages. With deft fingers she rolled it over me, snugging it into place. It was a tight but acceptable fit. Of course, at this point, it could have been an extra-small and I wouldn’t have complained. All I wanted was to feel those exquisite lips on me again.

  Apparently, that was all she wanted too. Capturing the tip of me, she began to suck. I inhaled sharply, pulling at her hair at the first sensation. As she worked more of me into her mouth, her hands returned to my butt. A finger flirted along my crevice but went no further.

  When she swallowed me, I only had a moment to be impressed by how much of me she’d managed before reflex kicked in and I began to move, sliding in and out of the tight chamber of her throat. Wrapping her arms around my hips she encouraged me closer, deeper.

  As amazing as it felt, though, I stepped back, breaking the hold of her arms. A second step and I was out of her mouth.

  “I want to be inside you when I come.”

  Helping her to her feet with one hand, I ran a quick finger between her thighs with my other. They clutched reflexively at my hand, but I’d found what I needed to know. She was wet—and very, very ready.

  We fell together on the bed, and I rolled her under me. Given her penchant for control I was prepared for a protest, but she only pulled me closer with one arm and caught me with an insistent hand in the other. “God, now!” she cried as she guided me in.

  She was warm and wet and my Neanderthal knew exactly what to do. My finger found the outside of her clit and began to thrum as my cock pressed into her, then backed out to thrust again.

  She bit into my shoulder to keep from crying out.

  On the second thrust, I slid in all the way to my balls.

  On the third thrust, knees splayed wide, Nicky wrapped her ankles around my thighs.

  The drumbeat in my blood urged me faster.

  Nicky rocked with me, thrust by thrust, her thighs closing over mine and her ankles slipping to my calves as the rhythm of my cock and finger increased. The pads of her fingers clawed into the hard flesh of my butt as she alternated sucking and biting at my shoulder. Half-strangled moans told me she was close.

  My thrusts shortened and the muscles deep behind my abs clenched as the primal beat of sex and life erupted, pumping into her.

  She quivered as every muscle, inside and out, tightened around me, sucking me in, deeper and deeper until the boundary between us broke and we were one, crying out life and hope to the sun.

  Later, as we lay spent in each other’s arms, drowsing in the heat of the afternoon, I ran my thumb along the line of her perfect lips and, in all sincerity, asked, “So, you never did say for sure—do I have the jumbe job or not?”

  10

  Nicky

  Peter and I were still spooning under the fan when Steve called sometime mid-afternoon.

  “What’s up?” I asked.

  “There was a stretch of fence down on the north side. We got it back up, but we’re running short on post and wire for next time. Might as well make a supply run to Mtwara tomorrow, if you want to make a list.”

  I looked at the man lying beside me. “Sure. I’ll have company for you, too.”

  “You coming?”

  “No, but the new jumbe will be.”

  I heard tires crunching as Steve headed to the gate to let off his day labor. “New—? Hey! There’s a Range Rover from WildLot here! Isn’t that one of those animal seller outfits? You buying or selling?”

  I grinned. “Stealing. Not animals, though. Personnel. Give us 30 minutes then meet me and Peter up at the clinic. Oh, and have Melea put a list together too.”

  “Sure thing, Doc. Peter, huh? I take it he’s not a local?”

  “Ex-army, but we’ll catch up at the clinic. We’re finishing up the negotiations now.”

  I hung up.

  Peter groaned. “Don’t tell me—work.”

  “Yeah, but I did buy us 30 minutes.”

  His groan morphed into a growl as he rolled my way.

  * * *

  We were counting on attributing arriving at the clinic sweaty and out-of-breath to the quarter-mile walk between buildings. One look at Peter’s… everything—face, physique, the way he carried himself…and the side-eye Steve gave me told me we’d been caught. “Negotiations, huh?”

  I smirked his way. Then, “Peter, this is Steve and Melea.”

  “How’s the little…antelope, was it?” Peter asked, recognizing my assistant.

  To my surprise, Melea blushed. Not that Peter wasn’t blush-worthy when he turned those big brown eyes on you, I just wasn’t expecting that reaction. Melea certainly responded better to animals than people, but I’d never known her to be particularly shy.

  She gestured toward the clinic door where the little kudu stood watching us with eyes as equally big and brown and heartfetching as Peter’s. “I named her Zuri. She’s a kudu.”

  “A Greater Kudu,” I added, figuring it wasn’t too early to start lessons. “They’re more prized by hunters than the smaller Lesser Kudus—or at least the males are since the females are hornless.”

  “They’re the ones with the twisted horns?”

  I nodded before turning back to Steve. “What happened to the north fence?” I knew if Steve had thought it a priority concern, he would have led with that on the phone. Hearing now about the more mundane problems that cropped up would be good for Peter.

  “Something big tried to get in from the outside. Must’ve gotten tangled in the fence and didn’t pull loose till one of the wires snapped. He took out six posts, loosened three more and weakened 90 feet of fence.”

  “Is that common?” Peter asked.

  “Not so much this time of year. Mating season we’d be repairing fences every day. A buck on the outside and a doe on the inside…boom, he’s in love, and swears he’ll move mountains and fences for her. Of course, once he’s through the outer fence, there’s a nasty shock waiting for him on the other side. Big enough or determined enough bucks will go right on through. Some will just back up and jump. Most won’t challenge the volts, though.” He chuckled, his tanned face crinkling under a mop of white-blond hair. “It’s the electric fence they mostly leave alone—the one that only takes like two minutes to fix.”

  “Peter’s going to move his stuff into the quarters next to yours,” I told Steve. “He can use the WildLot vehicle to do that tomorrow morning. You can follow him to Kilwa Kivinje while he turns the Range Rover in, then pick up your supplies either there or go on down to Mtwara.”

  “I’ll be picking up Abasi too. The hospital won’t keep him any longer.”

  “Did you try a bribe?”

  “Why do you think they kept him this long?”

  We grinned, both of us joking, but if he was in any way mobile, Abasi was going to be a pain being back. “He’s not going to like Peter being here,” I said.

  “Distract him with the elephant,” Steve suggested.

  I laughed, knowing how lucky I was to not only have staff who were easy to work with, but who were friends, as well. “Okay, so we have a plan. And unless something goes terribly wrong at WildLot, I should see you two back here tomorrow evening. You’ll be tired, so why don’t we plan on dinner for all of us. Sort of a welcome for Peter and a welcome back for Abasi.”

  We broke up then to go our separate ways, but not before I noted Peter ruffling Zuri’s ears before heading out.

  Maybe the man did have a heart after all.

  * * *


  I stayed at the boma most of the next day while waiting for the men to return. Maybe it was my imagination, but Jasiri seemed a little calmer, a little more accepting of me. She still mock-charged me a couple of times—when I first got there and when I first got up to move into better shade—but the threats seemed to be more happy habit than anything else, and the charges stopped well short of the fence. And when she retreated, it wasn’t to hide in the thickets but to stand beside them, head turned toward me, watching, contemplating.

  For the first time, I saw one of the grain bags had been broken open and the contents mostly consumed. Fifty pounds of feed wasn’t nearly enough after days of starvation, but I was happy to see any progress. And to my delight, when she thought I wasn’t looking, I caught Jasiri sampling some of the nearby tambotie leaves.

  It was a good day all-around, a soul-full day of quiet progress, healing animals, and a future filled with a gorgeous man and casual sex. The only thing to mar my private utopia was the financial report I pored over on my tablet as I watched my elephant watching me.

  There was money there, of course. Short-term, I was liquid and solvent. But if this was going to be more than a year-long sabbatical, I needed to figure a way to generate positive cash flow in about eighteen months or risk losing Kulinda. Eco-tourism was the easy answer. Open-car safaris and villas for overnight guests. I hated to even think about losing the privacy I’d already come to enjoy so much, but I’d known from the first it couldn’t last. I needed to start grading the land soon before the rains, then get a plan in place during the rainy season that could be implemented next year as soon as the grounds were buildable. Supplies and investments all needed to be lined up. Eighteen months might seem a long time away, but in reality was almost too short a time to ready the place.

  Especially if I wanted a herd of elephants established before then. And visitors would also want to see hippos at the river and maybe even a rhinoceros or two.

 

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