Operation G-Spot

by Jodi Lynn Copeland

  “How long have you been watching me?” He breathed a sigh of relief. Fiona didn’t sound upset, just intrigued.

  “Long enough to be jealous of several dozen men whose faces I never saw.”

  Jonah’s very real jealousy came through in his voice, and she took his face between her hands and leaned down for a lingering kiss. “Lose the jealousy, because you’re the only man who’s ever been able to make me come.”

  He inhaled a sharp breath. “You’re serious?”

  “That’s the rest of my confession. I knew from the second a friend of mine sent me King Simon and he was able to make me climax—something that had never happened before—that only a human Simon would be able to accomplish the same. Just in case I was wrong, I did sleep with some other guys. But none of them mattered because you’re the only one for me. My Simon. My love. My sexy, naked stud of a bed warmer.”

  “I think you might be pushing it just a little, but what the hell, I’m not about to complain.” Fiona laughed, and Simon joined in with his own laughter, though his was for an entirely different reason. The happy sounds turned to sighs of bliss as he slid his tongue between the warm, sweetness of her lips. Still, he smiled to himself.

  Eventually he would have to tell her that his real name was Jonah Meadowbrook; Simon King was simply the one he’d chosen to publish under. And he would, after he’d given her another ten or twenty dozen orgasms and she had no doubt that his ability as her lover and the man who loved her were anything but 100 percent authentic.

  From Vivi Anna, author of HELL KAT,

  comes a trip into INFERNO,

  coming this month from Aphrodisia!

  1

  Not again. Oh, please, God, not again.

  That was all Hades could think of when he stepped into the dank, dark chamber of his dreams and smelled the familiar metallic tang of blood.

  She was there, hanging by her wrists, shackled to the ceiling of the cold, empty, cemented room. Blood pooled beneath her feet. Hades knew there would be long raised welts across her slender but muscular back. He’d seen them before in his dreams.

  With slow, hesitant steps, he neared her swinging body. Praying under his breath that she still had a pulse, he reached toward her and stroked her leg. Her waxy skin was cold to the touch.

  Swallowing the bile rising in his throat, Hades swung her around and glanced up into her face. With a heavy sigh, he closed his eyes.

  It wasn’t her. It wasn’t Kat.

  He didn’t recognize the dead woman. Her anonymous face would, hopefully, not haunt him in the future. But if he was here again, in this nightmare, Kat was here somewhere, too.

  He never came alone.

  Cautiously he strode through the lofty chain room to an open metal door. Stepping over the threshold into a dimly lit hall, Hades had the distinct sensation of being led. As if some phantom chain had been attached to his neck, and he was being tugged forward into the unknown.

  With each step, the overhead fluorescent lights flickered. When Hades reached a T intersection in the hall, each thin bulb blacked out one by one, and he was once again thrust into darkness.

  There were only two ways for him to go. And he suspected that horror lay in wait in either direction.

  Turning to his right, Hades reached out blindly for the door. He grasped the metal handle and pushed down. The door unlocked with an audible click and creaked open of its own accord.

  At first, the room seemed just as dark as in the hallway. But then Hades could see a glow emanating from the middle of the room. Compelled, he stepped into the room and walked toward the faint yellow light. It grew brighter as he advanced.

  Eventually he came to a four-poster bed. A red candle burned brightly in a glass holder on a small table next to the bed.

  The bed was empty. But Hades could hear movement near him, a soft swishing sound, like flesh rubbing against fabric. Undeniable aromas of sweat, musk, and arousal floated to his nostrils. The overpowering scent of sex.

  Scrutinizing the mattress, he could see the bedcovers ripple and bunch as if one or two people were moving over top of them. Clear indentations of a hand, a knee, and other body parts pressed into the mattress.

  A low whimper reverberated from the bed. He recognized that low, husky sound. He’d heard it moan deliciously into his ears.

  Kat.

  She was there. Somehow she was on the bed in front of him, although he couldn’t see her.

  A light breeze blew over his arms as if someone was moving in front of him, moving toward him. Within seconds he felt a hand on his forearm. Her hand. Unable to pull away, he allowed the phantom fingers to stroke him, trailing up and down his skin. He sucked in a raspy breath when that hand brushed his crotch with a knuckle or two. It didn’t take much for his cock to respond to her touch.

  Iron hard and aching with desire, Hades allowed the apparition to pull him onto the bed. Reaching out, he found her body, all hard planes and slopes but soft and pliant where a woman should be. He molded his hands over her breasts, teasing her rigid nipples with his thumbs.

  Again she moaned. This time it was in his ear. He could feel her lips so close to him, so warm and inviting. Turning his head, he captured her mouth with his. She tasted as he remembered, like rain, cool and refreshing. She swept her tongue over his and then nipped at his bottom lip.

  Before he could respond, he could feel her pulling away. Blindly he reached out but couldn’t find her again. He knew she was still there, could feel her heat and smell her scent. Why couldn’t he touch her?

  He motioned as though to sit up but was forced back down onto the mattress. A heavy weight settled on his legs, as if someone had straddled him. Hades reached forward and touched warm, inviting flesh. He moved his hands up over the smooth skin of Kat’s muscular thighs. When he could reach no farther while lying down, he felt her take his hands in hers and raise them up.

  Sighing, he closed his eyes when a pair of soft, full lips touched his skin. A tongue traced a wet path over his wrist, suckling every now and then. His eyes sprang open when he felt the scrape of pointed fangs on his flesh.

  Pain, immediate and sharp, sang up his arm. He scrambled away, pulling back his arm. Hades jumped off the bed and cradled his hand to his chest.

  Shocked, his stomach roiling in revulsion, Hades watched as two forms materialized on the bed.

  With smiles, blood dripping down their chins, Kat and Baruch reached out to him and spoke in unison. “You can’t escape, Hades. You’re ours.”

  Heart hammering in his chest, Hades bolted up in his bed. Cold sweat dripped down his forehead and into his face. The salty liquid stung his eyes. Lifting a shaky hand, he wiped at his eyes.

  It had been more than seven months since he’d had a nightmare like this—one his mom would have called a premonition. When he was a child, she had called him a Dream Seer because of the constant images in his head that had come true. Like so many times before, he hoped this was just a dream and nothing else.

  Swinging his legs off the bed, he set his feet on the cold wood floor and peered around his small bedroom. It was still dark, and the air felt crisp. He had heard that there might be a frost in the night. Frost. Cold. These things were still so new and surprising to him he welcomed the ice on the ground and the bitter chill in the air.

  He’d spent his whole life on the outer rims, where the scorched earth tried to resurrect itself from the devastation caused by nuclear war. Snow, cold, and ice were foreign occurrences, ones he had read about only in books and heard about through rumors of the Promised Land in the north. A land he had finally found.

  With practiced ease, he found his fur-trimmed leather slippers with his toes without the aid of light. Sliding his feet into them, he stood, wrapped his deerskin robe around his bulky form, and shuffled to the small window. Cracking open one wooden shutter, he peeked outside. The sky was still dark, but the promise of the sun had started to trim the edges with a dull pink. Dawn was close by.

  It being a l
ittle earlier than he wanted to be rising, Hades resigned himself to starting his day. He still had wood to cut and a fence to mend before winter settled in for the year. Rubbing a hand over his bald head, he sighed and shuffled into the kitchen to make tea and start his breakfast. Maybe a shot of whiskey would help erase the bloody images of his dreams.

  Even in the dark, Hades made his way around his cabin with proficient effortlessness. When he neared the stove, he opened the little iron door, tossed in a few logs, and grabbed the box of matches sitting on the counter. Before he could strike the flint, the hairs on his arm stirred to attention.

  Someone was in his cabin.

  Dropping the match, Hades reached for his knife lying on the counter near the sink. Even now, his weapons were not far from him. When he spun around, knife poised to strike, a soft light emanated from the kitchen table. The lantern sitting on the wooden surface sparked to life, and the person, sitting in one of the chairs behind it, took form.

  A pale luminance played over Kat’s sharp, angular face. “You’ve lost your edge, Hades. Country living and clean air have made you slow.”

  The sound of her voice instantly tightened things inside him. She had that effect on him. Her laugh alone could spur a raging hard-on. He must be getting lax if he hadn’t noticed the moment she had stepped into his cabin.

  He took in a ragged breath, inhaling her scent. She still smelled of spice and musk. His cock twitched at the memory of her.

  He eyed her, taking in everything. Some things had stayed the same. The way her full lips lifted at the corners in a sexy sneer. The sharp cut of her cheekbones and chin. In addition, the look in her eyes—that devilish, dark look that sent shivers down his back.

  Other things had changed.

  She no longer possessed the tumbling mass of ebony hair. Instead, shocks of dark hair stuck up in random order over her head. Short and spiky, her hair was a carefree mess. Somehow it suited her and only helped to accentuate her piercing facial features. Hades also noticed the absence of her eye patch and the fact that her eye no longer looked opaque and useless but seemed to be changing back to its original emerald green even as it tracked him from across the table.

  Obviously the Dark Dweller virus was still hard at work inside her, healing past wounds.

  Turning, Hades set the knife back on the counter and reached for the banged-up teapot. “Do you want some tea?”

  There was a long pause while Hades lit the stove and set the teapot on the burner.

  “Yeah, sure,” she finally said.

  Taking two cups from the cupboard above, Hades set them on the counter and added some peppermint and sage herbs from his tin canisters. He grew his own herbs in a small boxed garden in the den. Kat, he was sure, would laugh at that—Hades having a garden. But he would not feel ashamed of it. He had earned this little thing. Had bled for this place in utopia where he had found relative peace and sanctuary. A haven he had hoped to, one day, share with her.

  “Nice place. Very cozy.”

  Hades turned back around. Leaning against the counter, he crossed his arms over his chest to cover his hands. He hoped she didn’t notice the slight quiver in them. They ached to reach across the table and touch her. To fill his palms with her hard, hot flesh. It had been only in the past three months that he had stopped aching for her in the middle of the night, stopped having sweaty, erotic, wet dreams in which he could find no release.

  “Built it myself.”

  “Huh.” She nodded. “Who knew you had skills?”

  He chuckled. “You know I do, babe.”

  His heart skipped a beat when the smile finally lifted the corners of her delicious mouth. The woman didn’t smile often, but when she did, it squeezed him in low erotic places like his cock.

  He sighed. “Damn, woman, where have you been?”

  “All over the fucking place.” She spread her hand over the table and leaned back in the chair. “Ended up in Atlantis for a month.”

  “You’re kidding? That’s the last place I’d expect you to go back to.”

  “I guess I needed a place to heal and think. I even did their weird cleansing ceremony.” She rubbed her hand through her cropped hair as evidence of her words.

  “Hmmm, I was wondering about that.” He smiled, lifting his brow. “So is it growing back in other places, too?”

  He remembered watching one of the Nerieds’ cleansing ceremonies during which the young woman had had all her hair removed. Even over her pubic mound.

  “Maybe.”

  When she cocked her brow with that sexy grin, Hades realized how much he had truly missed her. And how much she had hurt him when she had left. Seeing her now made him realize that he could go on without her, maybe even find some happiness, but he damn well didn’t want to.

  APHRODISIA BOOKS are published by

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  850 Third Avenue

  New York, NY 10022

  Copyright © 2006 by Jodi Lynn Copeland

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  Aphrodisia and the A logo are trademarks of Kensington Publishing Corporation.

  ISBN: 0-7582-2175-4