by Anna Lewis
The triumphant look on Travis’s face seemed to melt right off. “Your what?!” he growled.
“Ius vendendi pace.” She stared him down, her eyes hard as stone, glaring at him.
Panic pounded in her heart, making her feel dizzy and sick but still, she stared him down, determined not to let this bastard win.
Travis was shaking with fury, but all eyes were on him. He hadn’t banked on her knowing about this right. Most people didn’t, and Travis was powerless against it. The right to end a feud, a battle, unless due reason was given for a fight, and discussed with council.
She stood firm, calm, even as she panicked about the blood that Lucas was losing.
“Fine,” he growled, a dark, sour note in his voice. “Fall back!”
Amongst startled protests and confused men, Travis barked order after order, forcing a retreat on the battle that he had started. Forcing them to back up and leave the dragon shifters alone. Many were injured, the dragons having put up one hell of a fight. They probably would have won.
But Maria could not stand the bloodshed, could not stand the horror of the fight for another moment. Besides, she didn’t think Lucas had much time left at all.
She ran to his side, falling to her knees in the dust and looking him over. He was drifting in and out of consciousness, and Maria felt tears welling up in her eyes. She turned, “Someone call 911, now!” Men grabbed their phones and Maria turned back to Lucas.
She took his hand and shivered at how cold he felt. “Lucas…” She murmured, her voice thick with unshed tears, “Lucas, hold on. We’ll get you through this.”
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, voice barely a whisper. “I should have trusted you.” His breathing was labored and he was so, so pale. He trembled, his hand shaking in hers and Maria felt panic cut through her like a knife.
“No, no, it’s okay. It’s okay.”
“You were amazing.” He managed a smile. Then his eyes fell shut and his breathing slowed. Maria felt panic overwhelm her and she fought the urge to grab him and shake him until he opened his eyes again.
“Lucas?”
Nothing.
“Lucas!”
By now most people had filed out, bikes revving and driving away. It was organized, the tents being packed up, the injured being left, tended two by one or two people, the aftermath reduced to some charred ground, damaged bikes and bloody men.
“I’ll handle the PR,” a man beside her murmured. He had dark, serious eyes. “I’ll also handle the police. You just worry about Lucas.” His eyes filled with worry for a second, but only for a second, before he turned and moved through the carnage.
They must have had a plan, for raids, for things like this. That must have been why everyone fled so quickly. It was so organized, like they were expecting to be attacked. Maria could barely focus on anything but the feel of Lucas’s hand.
When the ambulance arrived, she refused to leave his side. She huddled in the back of the ambulance while they stemmed the blood flow and stabilized him. She trembled with fear at seeing Lucas so quiet and so still. He was strong, confident, wild.
He wasn’t like this. This was so wrong. Maria felt the tears well up in her eyes and she fought them back with all her might. If she lost him, she didn’t know what the hell she would do. He had become everything to her in such a short amount of time.
The trip to the hospital was hell, everything moving either too quickly or too slowly. The hours waiting for him to wake were even worse. She stayed with him through the night, arguing with the nurses to be allowed to stay. They asked her no questions—everything was handled, just as the shifter had promised.
It wasn’t until the following morning that Lucas stirred. Maria’s eyed widened, her heart catching in her throat. Hope leapt in her soul and she held his hand tighter.
“Lucas?” she whispered, barely daring to believe.
Then he shifted and coughed and his blue eyes opened wide.
“I love you,” she blurted out, and before he could reply, she kissed him. It was gentle and sweet and everything that their previous kisses were not. Maria wished that it would last forever, and when they finally broke apart, Lucas was smiling, a tired, genuine sort of smile.
“I like the wake-up call.”
Maria laughed and it was like the bubble of anxiety in her chest had finally popped. And as she sat there in the hospital, holding his hand, she realized that the dull lump of misery in her chest was missing.
She finally felt whole.
* * *
The wind blew through Maria’s hair and she gripped the handlebars for dear life. Lucas was behind her, his hand encircling her and stroking her breasts through the fabric of her shirt. Maria moaned, wriggling her hips and backing up into him with a gasp.
Her head was spinning and she felt lighter than air. Lucas was all healed up now, and the club was back and stronger than ever. She’d been accepted as one of them easily, even though she was a human with a dragon hunter past.
Maria gasped with pleasure as Lucas undid the buttons of her shirt. She heard him chuckle as he realized that she had no bra on.
“Naughty. I like it.” He grasped her breasts in his hands and she moaned with pleasure.
He tweaked her nipples and Maria thrilled at the air that brushed their skin. Out here on the side of the road, anyone could see what they were doing. It both thrilled and terrified Maria and she was starting to learn that she really loved that mix. She panted for breath as he lifted her skirt and pulled down her underwear.
She stepped out of it easily and bent over a little more, wriggling her hips suggestively as she moaned, “More, Lucas.”
“With pleasure,” he groaned into her ear. Then he was pushing inside of her, his girth filling her and making her head spin. She groaned with longing as he began to thrust. Her head spun, her body trembled, everything seemed to hum with pleasure and excitement.
Everything was falling into place. Her boring life was behind her, as was her life in shadow and dark mystery. Here there was light and action, adventure and a man of passion who swept her away, mind, body and soul.
She shivered as he increased his thrusts and she had to hold on tighter to the bike to try and keep her balance. He moved harder and faster and the friction against the seat made Maria’s head spin. It was all consuming, overwhelming, breathtaking.
She gasped with pleasure, moaning as he teased her skin. She breathed in his scent, felt his breath on her neck, and the heat inside her overwhelmed her. Pleasure tingled through her every pore, blinding her to everything but the feel of Lucas.
Maria’s climax hit her hard and fast, making her shake and shudder with pleasure. It overwhelmed her, flooding her core, making her gasp for breath as she was blinded by the feeling.
Lucas climaxed soon after, and she heard him groan into her skin, felt him shudder and hold her tight. It was perfect, blissful, overwhelming. Maria sunk onto the bike and Lucas did the same. It was a long while before either of them dared to move.
Lucas shifted first, helping Maria adjust her skirt and do up her blouse. She panted as she caught her breath, turning and doing up Lucas’s belt. He grinned at her and tugged on his shirt, sweeping her into his arms.
Maria felt like she was about to melt, shivers running through her body. He leaned in and kissed her, chaste and sweet, “I love you, Maria.”
Everything was perfect. Just as it should be.
THE END
= Bonus Book 3 of 11 =
Her SEAL, Her Savior
Even when she was wearing six-inch heels, Alasia Jackson didn’t come close to matching the height of the hulking blond man currently standing between her and the door.
“I need to get to sound check,” she growled, narrowing her dark brown eyes and glaring up at him.
Zach didn’t respond, so she poked him in the center of his broad chest with one bright pink, manicured fingernail. This barely had an effect, either. He just cocked one light eyebrow and coolly informed h
er, “You can get to sound check, ma’am, as soon as security goes over that wiring.”
Alasia sighed and flounced across her spacious dressing room to the leather sofa, finally backing down from the fight. She flopped down onto the thick cushions and dug through the pockets of her skintight jeans for her phone. Flipping it to front view, she aimed the camera at herself for a quick selfie, making sure to catch Zach in frame.
Trying to get to sound check for all my fans in ABQ! Hope my bodyguard lets me out soon so I can rock ya’lls world! She captioned the photo and then posted it to her Instagram. Seconds later, likes and comments began pinging in.
“My fans demand that you let me outta here, Zach,” she said. “A bunch of them got in for sound check and I cannot disappoint my fans.”
“Ma’am, it will just be a few more minutes. I’m sure this delay won’t affect your show tonight at all,” he drawled in his thick Southern accent.
Alasia didn’t know what annoyed her more: Zach’s accent or his constant use of the word “ma’am.” She thought about it for a moment, then concluded that the most annoying thing about Zach was his mere existence. He’d only been appointed to her for less than twenty-four hours, but she was already fed up with the retired Navy SEAL’s oppressive presence.
Her normal security team, Laurence and Cajardo, always let her have her own way, and that’s the way Alasia liked it. She and her boys grew up in LA together, and she’d always been the queen bee. Now, however, Laurence and Cajardo were back in Houston in a hospital wing, recovering from a nasty bout of food poisoning.
Or at least that’s what the organizers of the Pop/Rock Explosion! Parade of Stars tour had told her.
“It’s just food poisoning, Lay-Lay,” Marty had said, but his eyes kept shifting away from hers. As if that wasn’t suspicious enough, Marty had immediately called in a favor from an old friend and snagged her a fearsome new bodyguard, Zachary Severtson, retired Navy SEAL, Southern gentleman and official pain-in-her-ass.
When Alasia had questioned Zach about the “food poisoning” incident, he’d remained stone-faced and only replied that it was classified information.
Considering the alleged “food poisoning” had happened when Laurence and Cajardo had devoured a box of gourmet truffles that had been sent to Alasia, she thought she deserved to know the truth, not get nailed with this “classified information” nonsense. Alasia may have majored in vocal music and not science or criminal justice, but she knew perfectly well that people didn’t get food poisoning from a box of candy.
The whole thing was shady beyond belief.
“Ma’am, we just got word that the stage has been swept and everything is clear,” Zach informed her and finally stepped away from the door. “You’re free to head to sound check.”
Alasia pushed passed him without comment and made her way to the stage. Excited stagehands and PAs whispered as she approached and she took a few moments here and there to stop and snap some selfies with the ones who were brave enough to ask.
She may have only been the runner up on the last season of Pop/Rock Explosion! but everyone knew that she’d deserved to win, and her massive, vocal fan base was loud in their affection for their favorite singer.
A mousy little PA stopped her as she passed the craft services table. “Excuse me? Miss Jackson?” the girl stuttered, her eyes wide and star-struck behind her thick black glasses. “I was wondering if we could take a quick photo?”
Alasia laughed. “I’d be happy to, hon, but on one condition: you call me ‘Lay-Lay,’ okay?”
“Okay!” the girl grinned and framed them both in the lens of her phone’s camera.
Alasia shot the camera a winning smile and took a moment to admire her image on screen. Back when she was playing in small clubs around LA, she’d never bothered to get herself made-up and ready for sound checks, but now that she was suddenly an international pop sensation, she was always on and needed to look her best.
From the screen of the girl’s phone, Alasia’s image stared back at her. Smooth mocha skin, make-up flawless and perfect. She was wearing braids for the tour and her current set had fuchsia streaks woven through them. The angle of the girl’s photo caught a bit of Alasia’s deep cleavage, pushed together by a bold black bustier.
She used to be a jeans and sneakers kind of girl, back when she was just messing around on the scene in LA, but as her popularity grew from week to week on Pop/Rock Explosion!, the producers had started encouraging her to sex up her image. The sweet little singer from East LA had been replace by a flirty siren who paraded around on teetering high heels and left bold red lipstick stains on fans when she rewarded their devotion with pecks on their cheeks.
Alasia was constantly impressed every time she got a glimpse of her new pop star self, but sometimes she had a lot of trouble recognizing the face in the mirror.
A broad male torso suddenly filled the background of the girl’s photo and Alasia saw her image frown. She didn’t even need to turn around to know who it was. The Navy SEAL logo on the t-shirt that stretched tightly across the muscular chest that loomed behind her was enough of a clue.
“Ma’am,” Zach said. “If you could just walk a little slower, I’d be grateful. I do need to you keep you in sight at all times.”
A bit of shame washed over Alasia. Zach walked with a pronounced limp. Although no one mentioned it, it was obvious that the former SEAL’s retirement was not voluntary.
“Sorry,” Alasia said over her shoulder, still too irritated with Zach to look at him. “I’m used to making these short little legs work overtime.”
Alasia was tiny, barely five foot three, and she took special care to keep her curvy form in great shape. “Don’t you go getting too skinny, girl,” her boyfriend, Devan, had warned her multiple times as her ratings on the show had grown and her star had risen. “I like my baby with a bit of booty.”
Well, there was no danger of that. Alasia loved her generous curves and kept herself happy and well fed. There was no way that she’d let herself turn into a nervous, skinny little twig like Genna Reyes, a contestant who was voted off Pop/Rock Explosion! early in the season, but was on tour with them as a back-up singer. Genna never said or did anything that was even the least bit rude, but Alasia had a hard time trusting her. Nobody was that sticky sweet without a motive.
“Ma’am? Shall we?” Zach asked, and Alasia found it hilarious that her bodyguard was now the one urging her to get to sound check. How quickly and conveniently he forgot that he’d been the one holding her back just minutes before. Typical white boy, Alasia thought, always pretending that he’s the one who came up with all the good ideas.
The PA seemed satisfied with her photo op and was happily trying filters on the selfie, so Alasia gave her one last hug and set off down the hall towards the arena.
The second she stepped on stage, the small group of early-bird fans broke into excited cheers. Zach stood in the shadow behind her, arms crossed and expression unreadable.
Alasia waved at the group of devoted on-lookers, then picked up the mic and launched into a series of vocal runs. The crowd went wild. She was a star.
***
When Alasia returned to her dressing room, there was a text waiting from her boyfriend, Devan. Well, actually, there were over a dozen texts from Devan, all variations of Who the hell is that huge guy behind you in that picture? Why do you got a new bodyguard?!
Alasia sighed, pulled a Diet Coke out of the mini-fridge and tapped out a quick reply to her boyfriend. Devan had been so sensitive since she’d started the tour. No, that wasn’t right. He’d been touchy and sensitive ever since she’d been accepted as a contestant on Pop/Rock Explosion! and he hadn’t. She’d tried to explain that shows like these rarely featured rappers, but he wouldn’t listen. He’d been begrudgingly supportive whenever they were seen in public together, but that was about it.
At the moment, Devan was back in LA, in the studio recording a single with some buddies. Alasia desperately hoped it would w
ork out. She was tired of his jealousy.
“Everything all right, ma’am?” Zach asked from the doorway. She’d rudely rushed down the hall, forgetting her bodyguard’s slow walk, but if he was upset, he didn’t let it show.
She had to hand that to him, Zach was definitely in control of his emotions, unlike her boyfriend. Or Demetrius Gallow, the actual winner of last season’s Pop/Rock Explosion! Demetrius was prone to temper tantrums and had a very hard time keeping his resentment of Alasia’s success to a low simmer.
Social media had just about imploded when Demetrius was declared the winner. Everyone had thought that Alasia, with her incredible vocal range and sultry belt, was a shoo-in, but the judges were somehow swayed by Demetrius rock star swagger and smoky rasp. What the rock singer lacked in actual vocal technique, he made up in sex appeal.
“Was that guy out there giving you trouble, ma’am?” Zach asked, stepping inside the dressing room and locking the door.
Alasia would like to have been impressed by the astute observation, but it wasn’t like Demetrius was even making an effort to hide his open disdain and resentment toward Alasia. He’d stood just off-stage during sound check, glowering as she’d tested out her range for the new mics at the venue.
As he pushed past her for his own check, he’d snidely whispered in her ear. “Just because your people tweet about you, it doesn’t make you a star. I still won the show.” He’d then turned and waved to the crowd, which had begun to disperse after Alasia left the stage, and was only greeted with a spattering of applause.
Good. He’d deserved it.
Zach was still waiting for a reply, however, his handsome face cut with concern.
Alasia shook her head. “He always does, don’t worry about him. Just giving me shit about my fan base. Like having a bunch of fans doesn’t mean anything if they’re all black.”
Zach smiled and Alasia almost fainted. It was the first time she’d seen the SEAL crack a smile in days. “Well, if I may say so, ma’am, you’ve got all kinds of fans. I watched you every week.”