Crimson Kisses: Valentine’s Day Edition: A Zodiac Shifters Paranormal Romance Anthology

by Shifters, Zodiac

  Uncertainty gripped Tammy. She sensed they'd reached a critical juncture in their relationship. It'd snuck up on her, catching her wholly unaware. Unprepared. She faced a precipice—her only choices being to turn back or take a leap of faith. Is it worth the risk? Is he worth it?

  Of course he is.

  She lifted her chin and took the plunge. "During the drive over, I was thinking about how badly your bitch-ex mistreated you."

  He smirked. "She has a name."

  "I know her name. Bitch-ex suits her."

  Aaron chuckled. "Fair enough. Go on."

  "So, that led to me thinking about how much trouble you have with trusting me. Heck, you're suspicious about my opinions on the weather."

  He narrowed his eyes. "I didn't realize I'm that bad."

  "Well, you are. Sorry, but you asked for the truth."

  "Don't apologize. Give it to me straight."

  Darn, she wished she could read minds, because the man was darn near inscrutable. He wanted straight? Well, she intended to let him have it—point blank—both barrels. "I want you to believe in me, Aaron. I really do, but I have a whole bunch of doubts that it's even possible. I'm constantly worried about what you assume. Take tonight, for instance..."

  "What about tonight?" Tension gathered in the set of his shoulders. To the outside world, he appeared a man engaged in an intense conversation, but she perceived a panther prepared to spring.

  She softened her tone. "Please don't take this the wrong way. But this restaurant... I've always wanted to come here and I'm thrilled you brought me..."

  "But?"

  "But I can't stop worrying. Why are we here, Aaron? It's not my birthday or yours. It's not our anniversary or Valentine's Day."

  "This is our pre-Valentine's Day date."

  Her jaw dropped and hung for a second before she closed her mouth. "Really?"

  "Really," he said with a sardonic smile.

  "Is that a thing?"

  "I guess not." Aaron ran his hand through his short, dark hair. In that moment, his formidable facade cracked, allowing her a brief view of the part of himself he kept hidden. What she saw both astonished and gladdened her. He's scared, too.

  Her heart melted. She blurted, "This place is expensive. Did you bring me here because you think you need to spend a lot of money to impress me? Do you think I'm like her?"

  His jawline hardened. "Absolutely not."

  "Are you sure?" She averted her gaze, but he refused to allow it.

  "Tammy, look at me."

  A lump formed in her throat. She gulped and forced her eyes to his face.

  "I know you're not materialistic or mercenary, baby. I know you're nothing like..." He hesitated, but then smiled. "My bitch-ex."

  "Yeah?" A huge smile swept her face.

  "Yeah." He grinned in return.

  They tilted toward each other—a kiss on their horizon. Their server chose that exact moment to deliver their meals. A classic example of "worst timing ever." He refilled their glasses and they sampled their food. Eventually the waiter left them alone again, but the romantic mood had been broken.

  While they dined, Tammy mentally circled the idea of how to get back to where they'd been, but the most direct choices struck her as too obvious... And way too desperate. Ultimately, she opted for levity. Aaron had a great sense of humor. If she could get him laughing, the walls would come down. Polishing off the last bite of her chicken cordon bleu, she set aside her fork.

  "Wow, that was amazing. How was your steak?"

  Aaron cast a regretful glance at his empty plate. "Perfectly rare and now gone."

  Okay, here goes nothing. She drew a breath and took the plunge. "You know, things looked so bleak at one point, I Googled feral cat rehabilitation."

  He blinked. "You're kidding."

  "Nope." Tammy gave an exaggerated shake of her head. "The first recommended steps are trapping and neutering."

  "No way." His jaw dropped. The sheer astonishment on his handsome face was priceless.

  She snickered. "Don't panic. I'm way too fond of your boys for something so extreme."

  Aaron burst out laughing. "Good. I'm fond of my boys, too."

  "You should've seen the look on your face—too funny."

  "Heh. You got me." He leaned in close for that delayed kiss. Their breath mingled in a sultry steam. His mouth grazed hers, a teasing caress. His potent scent had underlying notes of aftershave and musky maleness. The richness of the wine lingered on his lips; she got drunk on the taste of him.

  When they broke apart, Aaron captured her hands between his own. "Let's talk about Valentine’s Day."

  "Valentine's Day?" Tammy parroted. With her thoughts all awhirl, the words sounded right, but made no sense. She shook her head to clear it.

  "It's next week."

  Anticipation swelled like a ripe peach begging to be bitten. She could hardly wait to learn what he had planned. "So it is."

  "Tonight was supposed to be all about that." He hesitated, watching her face. "What's wrong?"

  She cleared her throat. "Nothing. It's just, no one has ever made a big deal about Valentine's Day before... Not for me."

  He squeezed her fingers, stroking the back of her hand. Her heart raced and her insides liquefied. "I want this to be a big deal. You're important to me. I need to show you how much."

  She gulped, swallowing around the lump in her throat. A sense of surrealness gripped her, because she couldn't quite believe this wasn't all a dream. "What do you mean?"

  "I want to take you on your fantasy date. But to do that, you need to tell me what that is."

  "Are we talking flowers and dinner out? Like tonight, except next week?"

  A sinfully wicked smile played on Aaron's sensuous mouth. "Maybe a little sexier?"

  "Strawberries and champagne sexy?"

  "We're heading in the right direction, anyway," he said with a rueful grin.

  Tammy hiked her brow. "Strawberries, champagne, and whipped cream? Or do you intend for this to get even naughtier?"

  "Naughtier," he drawled in a rough voice. His gaze burned with searing intensity. Cat's eyes. "Now that's a great word. But this is for you. If all you want is a fancy brunch, then so be it."

  She laughed at his exaggerated shrug. "Who do you think you're fooling? You were hoping I have a secret lesbian fling fetish where you get to watch, weren'tcha?"

  "Not even close." His expression turned contemplative. "But I wouldn't object—"

  "Hah, not even close, buddy! That's not what I fantasize about."

  "Then tell me. I'll make your fantasy come true." Aaron leaned forward. His posture had a certain slinky quality that reminded her precisely of a hunting cat. That hint of danger thrilled and tantalized her.

  Beneath the table, she clenched her legs together to alleviate the ache at her center. Her imagination ran rampant; her head spun at all the possibilities. Her palms became sweaty; her heart beat faster. She was acutely aware of the busy restaurant around them. What would people say if they could eavesdrop on their conversation? The prospect had a certain illicit allure, but it was nothing compared to the internal battle she waged between doubt and desire.

  "I'm a little bit scared," she admitted.

  "You don't have to be afraid of with me. Not ever. You can tell me anything. But if you're not ready, that's okay, too."

  She nodded.

  The silence stretched out. Erotic tension built in the atmosphere like the charge before a lightning storm. All the while, Aaron waited while she considered. He applied no pressure at all. Ultimately, his patience gave her the courage to cross the line.

  She licked her dry lips. "I do have a fantasy involving you... in uniform."

  He stroked the inside of her wrist. "I love where this is heading."

  "I thought you would. My fantasy involves your patrol car and handcuffs. It could be construed as a misuse of county equipment…"

  Aaron's pupils dilated, eclipsing his irises. "For you, that's a chance I'l
l take. We'll have to be discreet, of course."

  "Of course."

  She started to say more but he pressed a finger to her lips. "Before we go any further, you need to choose a safe word."

  She blushed, stammering a bit, "A safe word?"

  He dropped his chin. "Choose a safe word you will remember, but not something you'd normally say when we make love. No matter what happens, you have to feel secure. This whole thing is under your control. If you say your safe word, I'll stop."

  "No matter what?"

  "No matter what."

  She gnawed her lower lip. Her gaze dropped to the dessert menu—a word leapt off the page. "Okay, tiramisu."

  "Tiramisu?" Aaron looked down and then smiled in sudden understanding.

  Tammy snickered. "Have you ever heard me shout 'tiramisu' in bed before?"

  He laughed. "No, I can't say that I have. Tiramisu will work. Now tell me more about how we'll be misusing my handcuffs and patrol car?"

  The Moon & Knight of Swords

  Madame Claire drew two more cards from the tarot deck. "The Moon and the Knight of Swords." She pursed her lips, studying the reading.

  Tammy huffed impatiently. "Well?"

  The seer smiled. "You will meet this man under the full moon, somewhere far away from the harsh lights and prying eyes of the city. I see a deserted road, and just the two of you, alone together. The woman on the Eight of Swords is bound, but she's not trapped. The swords are behind her, not blocking her way. She could escape at any moment... but she chooses not to. When you find the right man—this bold Leo—then you can dare to explore your darkest desires."

  Tammy swallowed. Her mouth suddenly felt as dry as the summer hills, and her heart was pulsating. Her attention focused on the Knight of Swords. "I take it this guy is Sir Kinks-a-Lot, charging to my rescue, ready to save me from my life of ho-hum sexual drudgery?"

  Madame Claire chuckled. "Make as many jokes as you like, darling. The truth is in the cards. This man is strong. He's got you. Look at the Knight of Swords! He's rushing toward the Devil and the Eight of Swords, right? It shows your man is more than willing to make all your dreams come true. He embraces who you are, light and dark, good and wicked. So, let him."

  * * *

  Valentine's Day

  The moon hung heavy and yellow in the clear night sky. The jeep's tires crunched on the uneven surface of the dusty backroad, empty of other vehicles in both directions. Tammy drove with the top down and the radio cranked up high. She wore a tight halter-top that showed off her pebble-hard nipples, a mini skirt, and high heels. She was freezing her ass off, but she looked great.

  Singing at the top of her lungs, she sped along, happy and carefree.

  Lights flashed behind her and a siren whooped once.

  "Shoot, of all the stupid luck. Speed trap." Tammy cast a quick glance at her rear-view mirror, assessing the vehicle on her tail. Yep, that's definitely a police car.

  With an unhappy sigh, she eased her foot off the accelerator and slowed the jeep. Her forehead furrowed and her mouth curved down at the corners. She'd been speeding, but only a little. Maybe the officer would let her off with a warning? Or maybe she could flirt her way out of the ticket?

  She pulled over onto the side of the road, shut her engine off, and waited. Her side mirror reflected movement: the silhouette of a large man climbed out of the patrol car. It didn't look like he had a partner.

  A trickle of anxiety ran through Tammy. Sharp pain stung her lower lip. Belatedly, she understood she'd bitten it. Other than the vehicle lights, darkness blanketed the landscape. They were miles from civilization... miles from safety. Just the two of them... all alone.

  She turned in her seat, watching the officer approach. His footsteps crunched on the dry dirt. He loomed closer and closer, larger and larger. Pure menace. A trickle of cold sweat ran down her back.

  Unable to stand it any longer, Tammy released a twittering laugh. "Good evening, officer. Is there a problem?"

  "Do you know how fast you were going, miss?" the man asked in a husky voice. He halted beside her driver's side door. He wore a San Diego County Sheriff Department's uniform, complete with a shiny gold badge and a holstered firearm.

  "Thirty-five?" Tammy schooled her expression to angelic innocence. She smiled, but he didn't return it.

  "Fifty-five in a thirty-five zone."

  "That can't possibly be right. I haven't seen a single sign for miles." She had to crane her neck to take in the whole of him. Good grief, the man was huge. Despite apprehension, her eyes roamed. His uniform hugged his muscular physique like a second skin. He had broad shoulders, a powerful torso, and muscular limbs. Her attention got stuck on his firearm until she noticed the dense bulge at his crotch. A gun's not the only heat he's packing!

  Hello! Are those tennis balls or are you just happy to see me? Shivers ran down her spine. She desperately wanted to ask what he kept in the front of his trousers. The man was a giant. It made sense that he had proportional equipment. Stop staring! With a monumental effort, she forced her eyes to his face.

  His expression was inscrutable. "What's your name?"

  "Tammy Payne." She blew stray blonde bangs out of her face.

  "Can I see your license and registration please?"

  Her smile faltered. "Sure. My registration's in my glove box. Can I reach over to remove it?"

  He held his muscular body tense and alert—a jungle cat about to pounce. A delicious shiver ran the length of her body. She quickened to the core, a surge of wetness; molten heat. "Do so slowly."

  Tammy nodded. She released her seat belt, leaning across the gearshift. She popped the glovebox and rummaged through the stack of papers. The position boosted her curvaceous bottom into the air. With any luck, maybe the view will earn me a little leniency.

  If he's going to give me a ticket, I'll make him suffer. She decided to give him a show so she rolled her hips, adding a suggestive little wriggle. The hem of her skirt rode high, exposing the underside of her butt cheeks. The officer should have a picture-perfect view of the red strap of her thong as well as the swollen lips of her pussy.

  "Much more of that and I'll place you under arrest." His hand cracked against her buttocks, delivering a stinging slap.

  A startled yelp tore from Tammy. She jerked, twisting around, and landed in her seat. Paperwork scattered everywhere. The shock of disbelief stunned her more than the actual spanking. The thought rang through her mind, I can't believe he did that.

  "Arrest for what?" she blurted.

  "Indecent exposure for starters, and solicitation."

  She sputtered, "Solicitation! Well, I never."

  "There's always a first time. You seem to have a natural-born instinct for it." He chuckled and her face burned.

  "That's it! I'll have you arrested for assault and battery!" Riding a swell of anger, Tammy shot out of the car. Her feet hit the uneven ground and the world wobbled. Belatedly, she recalled her high heels. She stumbled and fell.

  He caught her. For the briefest instant, she knew relief. Then he seized her wrists and turned her to face the car. His hands were like iron shackles. Fear jolted through her. She struggled, but he overwhelmed her feeble resistance. Their proximity brought home the huge disparity in their statures. Even though she wore four-inch stilettos, the top of her head only came to his chest. He must outweigh her by close to a hundred pounds of pure muscle.

  She yelped when he forced her arms behind her back. "Stop! What the hell are you doing?"

  "Placing you in restraints." With one hand, he held her wrists; with the other, he removed handcuffs from his belt. In short order, he shackled Tammy to the roof rack of her jeep.

  The vulnerable position scared her witless. "Am I under arrest?"

  The solid wall of his chest pressed against her back. When he chuckled, the deep rumble reverberated through her entire body. "No."

  She yanked at her restraints, but it was of no use. Metal clanked against metal; the bonds held. "What a
re you going to do to me?"

  "Whatever I want." Three ominous little words.

  She shuddered. Her pussy clenched. Wetness dampened her panties. Humiliated, she pressed her thighs together, fighting the shameful arousal. "Please."

  "That's right. You're going to beg. But first..." He brushed his rough hands along the insides of her arms, skating toward her elbows. His heat scalded her everywhere he touched, and his breath huffed against her nape. He stroked her upper arms and shoulders and then caressed her stomach. Her muscles twitched. The halter-top exposed so much bare flesh—his for the taking. The whole while, she twisted and turned, panting frantically, powerless to escape.

  When he lifted the bottom of her top, she cried out. "No, stop!"

  "Make me," he taunted and yanked her shirt up so her cleavage spilled out. Exposed to the nippy winter air, her nipples were taut. She shivered but she didn't stay cold long. He flattened his palms over her breasts, abrading her tender skin with his hard calluses.

  She leapt, trying to evade his touch. The movement propelled her back against him. Her ass drove into his crotch, bringing her into intimate contact with the rock-hard swell in his pants. She thrashed within his grasp. The steel chain of the handcuffs clanked against the metal roof rack.

  "You are one gorgeous woman, Miss Tammy Payne."

  "You can't do this." Tammy mustered what felt like futile defiance, fighting a battle she knew she was doomed to lose. Her sides heaved, and she gasped for air as creamy fluid soaked her panties and mixed with perspiration on the insides of her thighs.

  "I can do anything I want to your beautiful, helpless body, and there's nothing you can do to stop me." To make his point, he plucked her nipples.

  The slight pain heightened her arousal, driving her to new apexes of need. The humiliation hurt far worse. A ragged moan dragged from Tammy's throat. An involuntary urge drove her. Before she could stop herself, she rubbed against him. Driven by need, she sought the friction of his solid chest at her back and the grinding of his groin against her backside. Just like a cat in heat. It hurts. I need him inside of me...

  "You want more," he hissed into the shell of her ear. His voice was dark and honeyed. A seduction; perilous. He kneaded her breasts with his huge hands "You're hot for me. Say it, and I'll give you what you want."