by Renee Jordan
“You're...special...” His face contorted in pain. “Hurts...to speak...to breathe...”
“Why am I special?”
“Your...father...needs...” Burt's eyes closed.
“My father?” I demanded. “What does he need? Burt! Burt! Talk to me!” I shook his head, but he didn't answer. His rasping breaths stopped.
“You can't die! You have to tell me what I need to know! What does my father have to do with this? Was he the one that told you to watch me?”
But Burt didn't answer. I let go of his head. His body slumped back.
“Ko...tie...” Forrest panted.
I crawled over to Forrest. “I'm here,” I whispered, leaning down to kiss his furry muzzle. “You can relax. Burt's dead. Fiona's driven off. You're safe. I'm safe.” I kissed his snout again.
Forrest's fur retracted, his body changing, his longer limbs shrinking into his stout arms. I kept kissing him as his jaw retracted and formed into his lips. I kissed him hard, holding his naked, wounded body.
We lived. Somehow, the pair of us fought and survived to save the other.
Chapter Twelve: Dying Coals
It wasn't long before Forrest and I were found.
I held onto him the entire time, stroking his black hair as he lay unconscious, his head pillowed on my lap. I was exhausted. I just wanted to sleep. But I couldn't. So I screamed, making as much noise as I could. I knew his pack would be hunting for us.
I was screaming, my voice cracking, when three deputies—one half-carrying a naked, bloody Vanessa—burst into the clearing. “Boss,” Vanessa gasped as the deputies snarled in anger.
“He's alive,” I told them. “I healed him enough so he'll live.”
“Small miracles,” Vanessa said, kneeling next to me. She glanced at Burt, a snarl escaping her lips.
“What happened back at the gym?” I asked. “Did anyone else get killed?”
Vanessa nodded. “The pack's missing three. We think they were in the gym, and there are a few others missing. The entire gym burned down, it's flaming rubble now.”
A tear trickled down my cheek.
“And the entire fucking Donovan clan ambushed us when we came pouring out. We killed half of them, but they got their licks in,” Vanessa snarled, “and that bitch Fiona clawed my leg up before she ran off.”
“Forrest drove her off of me,” I told her. “He broke her leg. She went that way.”
One of the deputies, I think his name was Xavier, broke into a lope and rushed off into the brush after Fiona. The other deputy spoke into his radio, calling for backup.
“He'll get her,” Vanessa growled. “I hope she resists.”
“Did Penny get out?” I asked, remembering my friend.
“Yeah, she used some of her magic to drive back the flames. Saved a bunch of people.”
“Good,” I smiled. “Thank the Lord for that.”
Vanessa nodded.
The night passed in a blur after that. I struggled to focus, my thoughts lost in the last words Burt spoke to me. All that happened tonight was about my father. I was special. And Burt was protecting me. But from what? And who was he protecting me for? My father?
Why did Burt have to die before answering any of my questions?
Paramedics arrived along with the fire department. We stumbled out of the woods, Forrest carried out on a stretcher. As they loaded him on the ambulance, I spotted Xavier hauling a wounded Fiona out of the woods, her hands cuffed behind her back.
I joined Forrest in the back of the ambulance and rode with him on the long ride to the Granite Hills Regional Hospital. I was stuck in the waiting room with the other members of the pack who weren't seriously injured, my brain heavy with exhaustion.
Finally, the doctors finished examining Forrest, and they let me into his hospital room. I was wrapped in a fireman's jacket, my dress torn and ruined, but all I cared about was Forrest. I could buy a new dress.
“I'll heal you in the morning,” I promised, leaning back in the chair. “Get some rest.”
“You...too...Kotie...” he whispered, his eyes golden.
I smiled at him and slipped into a shallow sleep.
Late the next day, the doctors were astonished by the wounded shifter's miraculous recoveries.
“It's just magic,” I smiled at them, feeling tired from all the spell casting.
“I'm ready to go home,” Forrest said, standing up and pulling off the heart monitor sensors.
“But...” the doctor spluttered as Forrest grabbed a pair of jeans Xavier brought from our house. Forrest pulled them on before pulling off his hospital gown. “You need to stay. You had quite the injuries, Sheriff.”
“I feel fine,” he shrugged, grabbing a flannel shirt, covering up his body. There weren't even scars from the cuts and burns. “I'm discharging myself.”
“But...”
“Come on, Kotie,” Forrest said, putting his arm around me and pulling me close.
“Thank you kindly for taking care of him, Doctor,” I smiled as Forrest pulled me out of the room.
“But...That's not possible...he couldn't...”
“I think you broke him,” Forrest laughed.
“She's always causing problems,” Vanessa agreed, striding out in a t-shirt and a pair of jeans. “You should have heard my doctor bleating about my health.”
As we strode through the hospital, Forrest's pack appeared, the newly healed flowing out of their hospital rooms, the uninjured joining us in the waiting room. This was my family now. They were a wonderful, loving, passionate bunch.
I was glad I could be a part of them.
Forrest's SUV had been driven to Granite Hills by one of his deputies. After we climbed in, I said, “Forrest, we need to talk.”
He glanced at me, his eyes patient.
“Burt said he was supposed to protect me,” I explained, “and it somehow involves my father.”
As Forrest drove, I told him everything Burt had told me. He deserved to know. I felt something would be coming. Burt had to protect me for a reason. He could have done it a lot better than using fear and abuse to keep me under his thumb, though.
But he had been so afraid of failing whoever put him up to his task. I shuddered at what that meant. I was afraid someone worse was coming. And that person might be my father.
The Traveler that my mother was so in love with.
* * *
The morgue was cold, but the Traveler barely felt it as the technician led him into the back.
“What's your relation with the deceased?”
“Adopted father,” the Traveler answered. It was mostly the truth. He had found Burt as a youth and molded him for one task.
And the lad had failed spectacularly at his mission.
The Traveler had been surprised when he arrived in Florida to collect his daughter to begin her training. The summer solstice was only a few months away. He had waited long for Dakota to grow up and for a passion moon to fall on a solstice. But Burt's house had been empty when he arrived, his pupil and daughter missing.
Tracking Dakota was not a problem for the Traveler. He tattooed her totem.
Just like he had tattooed Burt's.
The technician walked over to a far gurney occupied by a body covered in a cloth. He pulled it back, exposing Burt's face. The Traveler's green burned. The young man looked calm, at peace. The Traveler clenched his fist.
“That's Burt Mitchel,” the Traveler nodded.
“Okay, just sign here,” the technician said, his voice bored.
The Traveler took the clipboard and scrawled one of his many pseudonym's signature at the bottom before handing it back.
“Would you like a few minutes alone with him? You know, to say your goodbyes and all.”
The Traveler nodded, “I don't want any disturbances.”
The technician stiffened at the power in the Traveler's voice. The youth swallowed, wiping a hand through his greasy hair.
“Er, yeah. Just take all the time you
need.”
The Traveler kept his green eyes fixed on the technician until he slinked out of the morgue, the heavy door closing with a sucking sound as the room was sealed. Then the Traveler turned back to Burt.
“Let's find out how badly you fucked things up,” the Traveler growled.
It would be another lifetime before the conditions would be right. If Dakota has any reason to fear me, her cooperation may be hard to obtain. The Traveler had planned on “rescuing” her from Burt, disposing of the young man and earning her love.
A tremble passed through the Traveler. Age was catching up to him again.
“Spirits of the dead,” he said in a powerful voice, his baritone echoing through the morgue. “Summon the soul of Burt Mitchel. Drag him out of the depths of Tartarus to answer my questions.”
The morgue grew colder as the black spirits, surrounded by the nimbus of purple, disappeared into the floor as they traveled into the depths of the underworld to pluck his pupil's soul. Moments later, they rose out of the tiles, dragging a white, hazy soul with them. Burt's soul fought, struggling against the Death spirits until they forced the soul back into its body.
Burt's eyes opened, the blue iris cloudy with death. “Ma...ster...” the corpse moaned, the words harsh and dry.
“Did you tell her about me?” the Traveler asked.
The Traveler leaned over, intently listening as Burt's corpse answered each question. His soul was unable to lie, compelled by the Death spirits to speak honestly. The Traveler frowned. Burt had told Dakota too much. The Traveler grew angry.
How will she trust me now? How will I compel her to act?
“Who are her allies?”
“Forrest...” wheezed the corpse. “His...pack...”
The Traveler's eyes widened.
“She...loves...the...wolf...”
“Are they imprinted?” Excitement beat in the Traveler's chest.
“Yes...”
The Traveler smiled. His guardian had imprinted Dakota. “I guess you didn't fail as badly as I feared. Your mess can be salvaged.”
To be continued...
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My feet slapped as I came down the stairs, my hips swaying. My nipples were hard, dimpling the front of my nightshirt. I couldn't remember the last time a man had excited me this much. Maybe the first night I had seen Burt play, and he had made love to me with his eyes, I had been this excited.
But that was so long ago, the memory soured by the monster Burt had become.
Tonight would be far more glorious.
“Kotie,” Forrest smiled as he rose from the couch before the fire, setting a paperback book to the side. “What do you need?”
“You,” I purred, striding forward.
That cocky, self-possessed, feral grin spread on his face. His excitement swelled, bulging the front of his jeans. I licked my lips. He was big. A shudder washed through me as I padded closer, my bare feet swishing across the bear-skin rug.
His arms enfolded me. His lips mashed against mine. He kissed me, devouring my lips, his strong arms wrapping about me. I let him hold me, my body pressed against his hard muscles. I moaned into his kiss, my arms hugging his neck, clinging to him.
I felt so amazingly safe, so wonderfully desired in his arms.
Forrest's hands slid down my back, each seizing a cheek of my bubbly butt. He squeezed me, pulling me against his bulge. My hips writhed, rubbing against his passion. He throbbed hard and my pussy clenched. I couldn't wait to feel him in me.
“Kotie,” he groaned, his lips sucking at my neck, kissing up to my ear. His teeth nipped me. He growled, hungry as he feasted.
“Oh, Sheriff,” I groaned, my hands roaming Forrest's hard body. I dipped beneath his shirt, sliding up his back. My clitoris brushed against his bulge, pleasure rippling through me. “Ravish me,” I groaned, my fingernails biting into his back. “I've never...oh, yes...you're driving me...oh, Sheriff!”
His teeth nipped my ears. “You smell delicious,” he groaned.
“I haven't showered in two days,” I groaned.
“Your musk...” He growled, low and throaty. “I'm going to eat you up.”
“Devour me,” I panted as he pulled me down to the bear-skin rug.
His hands grabbed the hem of my nightshirt. I held my arms up, letting Forrest pull it over my body, mussing my red hair even worse. I didn't care. We would writhe in passion.
Forrest's hands seized my breasts. I gasped as he kneaded my round flesh, his rough thumbs brushing my hard nipples. I sank onto my back, the bear-skin rug tickling my sensitive skin. His mouth descended, nipping my hard nipple before engulfing between his lips.
“Oh, yes!” I groaned as his tongue swirled about my nub before sucking hard. He was hungry, engulfing as much of my breast as he could, stirring pleasure down to my fiery pussy.
Forrest released my nipple, kissing and licking his way to my other breast. His tongue trailed up my breast, reaching my nub. He circled, then nipped it. The shock of pain mixed with the pleasure. I loved it.
My fingers scratched at his T-shirt. I needed to see his muscular form. I pulled at his shoulders, his shirt bunching around his neck. With a growl, he rose, ripping his shirt off and throwing it near the crackling fire.
Forrest was muscled like a Renaissance statue. My eyes widened in awe. Sweat gleamed on his perfectly sculpted pecs, and his abs rippled with a six pack. Tattooed across his body was barbwire, the barbs digging into his flesh. He looked chained in the black wire, his muscular physique restrained somehow by ink. His arms were as thick as my legs, the left wrapped in a thick, white bandage.
“Oh, Lord, you are gorgeous,” I moaned.
Click her to read more of the first chapter of Kotie and Forrest's hot, sultry love story!
Other Romances by Renee Jordan
Check out Renee Jordan's catalog of steamy romances on Amazon!
Curvy Maids: These plump and lovely maids find love in the most unlikely places with the hunky billionaires they work for and discover desires they never knew they had. Steamy tales full of desire, sex, and kinky submission to the men they love.
Feathery Discipline (Alexandra's Tale): Alexandra founded her cleaning service, Curvy Maids, and is surprised by the turns of life. When the older, distinguished billionaire Mr. Draven hires her, she enters a world of sultry submission. Her heart beats wildly for the Mr. Draven, but does the powerful man love her back? And when the handsome, African American billionaire, Mr. Curtis, enters the picture, Alexandra is unsure which billionaire to give her heart to.
Love's Leash (Issy's Tale): Issy, Alexandra's best friend, has arrived in Seattle, eager to strut her stuff in the Curvy Maid's outfit and have some dirty fun with the billionaires. She didn't count on having her heart torn between two hunky billionaires: Mr. Chevalier, a handsome Frenchman, or Mr. Curtis, a powerful Black man. Which billionaire should she give her heart two? Which one actually loves her back?
Lacy Bonds (Veronica's Tale): Veronica wants a better life. Her boyfriend's a loser that sponges off of her, and her two friends Issy and Vera have discovered love with billionaires. Wanting a change, Veronica dons a curvy maid's uniform and works for Mr. Marsden. Pain fills her handsome billionaire. He grieves the death of his wife. Veronica wants to heal him, but does Mr. Marsden love Veronica or the memory of his dead wife he sees in her?
Passion Moon: Kotie finds passion and magic in a small town in Montana.
Howling Passion: Kotie is running from her ex. Moonrise, Montana, a mountain town, is as far as her money could take her. But fate has brought her here. Danger lurks as two men vie for affections, the dark and dangerous Christian, and the powerful werewolf Forrest.
About Renee Jordan
Renee Jordan has a dirty imagination, and wants to share all her naughty stories wi
th you! She loves strong men and the hot women they master and love! She wants to share all her tales of true love and happy endings with you.
Renee is from the romantic plains of Texas but has relocated to the rainy Pacific Northwest where she has fallen in love with the gorgeous beauty of the Puget Sound and majestic Mount Rainier. Check out Howling Passion, the first in her romantic, shifter, paranormal series Passion Moon.
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Table of Contents
Chapter One: Nightmare
Chapter Two: Rabbits and Coyotes
Chapter Three: Lucky Penny
Chapter Four: Unpleasant Surprise
Chapter Five: Changing Room Fun
Chapter Six: Spirits
Chapter Seven: Little Black Dress
Chapter Eight: Death Magic
Chapter Nine: Love's Medallion
Chapter Ten: Fiery Dance
Chapter Eleven: Strength
Chapter Twelve: Dying Coals