by Vella Munn
Sometimes raking lightly, sometimes pressing with enough force that it bordered on the painful, he branded her now pulsating bud. He teased at the entrance to her passage as she broke out in a sweat, but although he must know how desperately she wanted it, he didn’t penetrate. Just the same, she felt herself rising, rising, growing and becoming hot. No, not just hot. On fire! It was happening so fast. So hard. So close to climax. So close!
“Fuck me,” she begged. “Damn you, do it!”
“No.”
“Damn you.”
“Not yet.”
“Yet? What—” Before she could continue, he caught her swollen bud between thumb and forefinger. Gasping, she arched toward him, nearly levitating off the bed. Just one more touch, please, just one and she’d be there. Gone!
“No! Please,” she gasped when suddenly, cruelly, he released her. “Don’t stop. Not now!”
“Soon. I promise.”
Still on fire, she threw herself into a sitting position and looked wildly around. She was wet between her legs. Throbbed. On the brink.
Brought to that place by a man who existed only in her mind. Who spoke and commanded and claimed in ways that defied description and both thrilled and terrified her. Like a drunk without a drink for too long, she couldn’t focus on anything except the next time. And there would be a next, damn it! Only, when he again clamped his hard, powerful hand over her cunt, he’d better be there in person.
Can she handle everything they are?
Studs
© 2012 Vonna Harper
True to her Hopi mother’s restless spirit, Terena Rothrock follows news stories all over the Southwest. Lately, though, her heart is calling her back to the rez. But not before she swings through Phoenix to see her cousin race his amazingly fast new horse.
At the track, two powerful men watch the horse with suspicion in their eyes. Watch Terena with the drive to possess her oozing from every pore. When they seem to shift into stallions in her mind’s eye, shock—and arousal—flood her body.
Far from home and their herd, Nokoni and Hah-Tee can’t afford to draw attention to themselves. Instant attraction to Terena complicates their already competitive relationship, but she’s their one connection to the man they suspect stole one of their mares.
Overcome by instincts as ancient as time, the urge to mate rolls over them with the speed and ferocity of a desert storm. Yet even as Terena struggles to make sense of her desire for the swift, mysterious shifters, danger lurks. Someone is out to collect every last one of the horses born with wings on their feet—even if it means bullets must fly.
Warning: Studs doing what studs do, hormones raging, and of course the whole complex threesome thing.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Studs:
Backing up and rearing, Red whinnied again. The high scream-like sound seared Terena’s nerves. Despite her concern that the horse might hurt herself, Terena couldn’t keep her attention off the men. They were maybe a hundred feet away and walking with slow, measured steps, as if giving her time to comprehend what was happening. When she’d seen them earlier, they’d been closer but surrounded by race-goers. Now, nothing stood between her and them.
They weren’t friends with each other. She sensed their complex relationship in the space they kept between them. Despite that, they walked in sync, the slightly shorter man lengthening his stride to match the other.
What did their relationship matter? They were coming toward her, staring intently.
Ahote was out of sight, more concerned with his damn conversation than her or his horse. He’d left her to—
Sudden anger washed away the fear she didn’t want to acknowledge. This wasn’t the Wild West. A couple of cowpokes couldn’t march into town and take over. Take her.
Red’s hooves tattooed the ground. “It’s all right. You’re all right,” she soothed without taking her attention off the stalking men. “I won’t let them hurt you.”
Galvanized by her promise, she stepped fully into the sunlight and crossed her arms over her chest. The newcomers still walked in slow-motion with their arms by their sides, their body-hugging clothing revealing every move. Her throat dried, her nipples hardened and her core heated.
Determined to get control over her misbehaving body, she pressed her forearms against her too-sensitive breasts and lifted her head so the breeze stroked her throat. She had a few seconds before they came so close their energy touched her.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
Instead of answering, they continued to approach her, or was it stalking? To her disbelief, they pulled their T-shirts over their heads, revealing twin six packs. Still holding on to their tops, they started unbuttoning their jeans.
“This isn’t funny.” She couldn’t speak above a whisper.
“No,” the slightly older man said, “it isn’t. Be patient. You’ll soon understand.”
She wanted to tell them she’d never ever understand what was happening, but that would have to wait because they’d stopped and were removing their socks and shoes. Next came their jeans, drawn down over non-existent bellies and muscled thighs.
“You can’t—” she started.
“We have to.” Instead of explaining, as if there’d ever be an explanation for this, the two made short work of their briefs. They were semi-erect.
“Shit,” she whispered, then covered her face with her hands and turned her back to them. The faint popping sounds behind her made no sense, and their low gasps made her wonder if they were in pain. Any thoughts she might have had of fleeing died. When the sounds stopped, she forced herself to turn around.
Where were the men?
And where had the two magnificent stallions come from?
It couldn’t be! The nearly identical four-legged animals didn’t exist! Couldn’t. The highly arched necks, hard-muscled chests, breeze-tossed manes and long, uplifted tails were her imagination.
Despite the denial running through her, she continued to stare. They weren’t as tall as draft horses, but close. The similarity ended with height comparisons, because, unlike a Percheron or Clydesdale, these creatures were built for speed, not pulling power.
Sunlight caressed the mostly black bodies and played up where black slid into copper on their bellies and flanks. Large, pure-white splotches splayed over their chests. Their ears pointed forward as if listening for any sound she might make.
Red pranced while these two turned their gait into an art form, with high-striking front legs and unbelievably muscled hindquarters. Their nostrils flared; they held their heads high and proud. Long, thick erect penises jutted forward.
“Oh shit. Oh shit.”
The duo stopped, glanced at each other, reared in unison. She stared, uncomprehending, at prime horseflesh balanced on powerful back legs while their front legs stabbed the air. Their heads arched even tighter, making their necks bow and the tendons stand out. She waited for them to bellow like the aroused studs they were, but they remained silent. It was, she crazily concluded, as if they knew how to show themselves off to best advantage.
If only she had her camera with her.
If only this made sense.
Overwhelmed, she hugged her waist for comfort. She closed her eyes. Maybe two seconds passed before she found the courage to open them again.
The stallions were gone, the men back, their lack of expression unnerving as they redressed.
“No.” She began rocking herself. Her mind snagged on the white markings on the horses’ chests. Should have paid closer attention to them. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, she was incapable of fully comprehending what she’d just experienced.
Or imagined she’d experienced.
That was it. She’d had a mind meltdown.
Red still moved about but seemed a little less agitated. Maybe she’d locked in to Terena’s mind glitch, and that was what had upset her. Well, it wasn’t going to happen again.
Realizing she was still hugging herself and rocking, Ter
ena forced her hands to her sides. With each step they took, the approaching men made an even greater impact on her system.
Comanche.
Was that what they were? Damn it, why couldn’t she think? Besides, what did it matter what tribe, if any, they were members of?
The day wasn’t that hot, mid-seventies with a nice breeze, but she was on fire. Praying she’d wake up from this crazy dream while reverently wishing she could stay deep inside it, she swallowed several times to work moisture back into her throat. The duo was no more than ten feet away.
“What do you want?” she asked. And how did you morph into stallions, if you did?
“Where is he?” the taller, slightly older man asked.
Ahote! Get back here. “Who are you talking about?” There was no denying their body heat or the hit-her-over-the-head sensual impact. Time needed to slow down. Hell, it should stop so she stood a chance of taking in everything she was experiencing.
“We saw you embrace him,” the apparently designated speaker said. “Who is he, your lover?”
“No. Of course not.” The speaker’s tone revealed nothing of what he was thinking. Knowing they’d come looking for Ahote—and that they’d been watching her—knocked her even more off balance. But, as overwhelmed as she felt, she wasn’t about to put her cousin at risk if she could help it. “What do you want him for?”
“That’s between him and us.”
Her short nails dug into her palms, but she couldn’t think what to do about the discomfort. Behind her, the lightning-fast Red’s breath huffed in a way peculiar to mares in heat. Oh, shit, what if Red had seen them in stud form?
“Wait a minute. If you’ve been watching us, you must have seen where Ahote went. Why are you talking to me?”
The speaker’s mouth thinned, and he squinted, the gesture highlighting faint lines at the corners of his ebony eyes. God, but he had beautiful eyes, deep and full of layers she couldn’t comprehend.
“You really have no idea why we chose to approach you?” he asked and pointedly looked down at himself.
He had an erection, his hard-on straining his jeans. If she hadn’t been so unnerved and locked on to his features, she would have already noticed what was going on below his waist. When they’d morphed into stallions—what was she thinking!—the two had been ready for sex. Obviously, that hadn’t changed.
Heated moisture pooled inside her. Some leaked out to dampen her panties. “Look, this is crazy,” she said, backing up a little. “I don’t know what the hell this is about, and unless you’re willing to spell it out to my satisfaction, I’m leaving.”
“Not yet.”
At the comment from the until now silent man, the speaker jerked his head in that direction. “It isn’t your turn,” the older, taller one snapped. “I told you—”
“Look,” she interrupted. “I’m not interested in listening to the two of you argue.” I just want to know if you have any idea what I thought I saw a few minutes ago. “You can’t keep me here. One yell from me, and—”
“You won’t.”
At the two words, the indignation she’d been trying to feed evaporated and was replaced by another heat wave. Did the man with the faint crow’s-feet know how sensual his voice was? It came from the depths of his broad chest, the sounds seeping over and into her.
Wild and Free
Vella Munn
In the face of love, some hearts retreat. Others stand their ground—and fight.
After a difficult year licking her emotional wounds at the family ranch, Calley Stewart jumps at the chance to return to her beloved Montana wilderness to continue her work with the Border Grizzly Project. Determined to never again repeat the mistakes that drove her away.
When she meets the project’s new director, though, there’s no ignoring the magnetic pull between them. Dean Ramsey is a man so in tune with his surroundings, he moves in on the closely guarded territory around her heart before she has the chance to shore up her defenses.
Tracking grizzly bears is dangerous business, and the last thing Dean needs is a team member who isn’t wholly focused on the project’s critical research. Except before he’s even laid eyes on Calley, the sexy sound of her voice through the trees sends a jolt of electricity up his spine.
Their work carries them to the wilds of Alaska, but the shadows of their pasts follow. And when they face the ultimate test of courage, those shadows threaten to cloud the path to safety, to their future…even their very survival.
Warning: Contains a sexy hero with the heart of a bear, and a heroine with an independent streak to match. May induce an urge to go skinny dipping in winter; author suggests there be a steaming hot tub involved.
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They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
11821 Mason Montgomery Road Suite 4B
Cincinnati OH 45249
Wild and Free
Copyright © 2012 by Vella Munn
ISBN: 978-1-60928-981-2
Edited by Linda Ingmanson
Cover by Kim Killion
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Original Publication: 1986
First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: February 2012
www.samhainpublishing.com
Table of Contents
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
About the Author
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