Table of Contents
Excerpt
Shadow Whispers
Blurb
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Epilogue
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Note from Lexxie
eBooks by Lexxie Couper
Excerpt
A harsh sob ruptured from Tess’s mouth. “Oh, God, no.”
She stared at it, sweat stinging her eyes, and shook her head. You’re going mad, Tess. That’s all. You’re having a psychotic episode.
No, you’re not.
An icy breath slipped into her ear, like a tickling wisp of hair, and she lifted her head.
Tessa…
She recoiled, stumbling backward, eyes wide. Her ass bumped into the edge of the sofa, sending shots of sharp pain up into her spine, but Tess didn’t take any notice.
The living room walls warped and twisted before her, one moment clean and wallpapered, the next dark and rusted, smooth plasterboard to corrugated iron to plasterboard again, as if two realities fought for existence in the same space.
She sucked in a breath, icy air invading her lungs, engulfing her in a hideous compression. Icy, not burning, despite the fire still roaring in the fireplace. Her flesh rippled into goose bumps, pinching her nipples into painful rock-hard points. Her scar erupted in pain, an excruciating tear in flesh both chilled and burning.
All around her, the walls continued to warp and bend, bleeding from one surreal state to another. Rusted metal. Wallpapered plasterboard. Pulsing and distorting like a living, breathing thing. A living, breathing hideous thing intent on shattering her sanity.
Another cold gush of dead air struck her, wrapping around her sweat-soaked limbs, her perspiration now beads of frosted ice scalding her skin. She shivered, teeth chattering a violent tattoo. Oh God. What was happening to her?
Ice-fingers smacked at her thighs. She flinched, wild stare snapping to the grime-covered headstone where her television should have been, thick, old blood the color of poisoned oil oozing from its cold pores to stain the rug underneath. A rug wavering between freshly vacuumed plush pile and old rot reeking of decay and mould.
Welcome home, Tessa…
The deep, empty voice seeped into her head, a parasite seeking the rich nourishment of her sanity. Those fingers of ice brushed over her cheek, across her lips, deathly cold and dry. Tess jerked backward, elbows cracking the edge of her cluttered bookshelf. “Get the fuck away from me!” she gasped, staring at the frosted air.
Why would I do that when I’ve been waiting for this moment?
The walls wavered again, growing black with old rust. The lounge grew fat, seemed to bloat and stretch until a bed stood in its place. Liquid-red sheets undulated across the mattress, alive with insidious need.
Tess flattened against the bench, palms pressed to its solid wooden surface, her heart frantic as she stared at perversion around her. Not real. Not real. It’s not real, Darcy.
Yes, Tessa… Those cold, dusty fingers slid across her cheek again, across her bottom lip to snake into her mouth. It is.
Shadow Whispers
Lexxie Couper
Published 2016 by Book Boutiques.
ISBN: 978-1-944003-27-2
Copyright © 2016, Lexxie Couper.
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of Book Boutiques.
This book is a work of fiction. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, locales, or events is wholly coincidental. The names, characters, dialogue, and events in this book are from the author’s imagination and should not to be construed as real.
Manufactured in the USA.
Email [email protected] with questions, or inquiries about Book Boutiques.
Blurb
Lust. Desire. Danger.
Temptation…
Jared died twenty years ago. Now he’s trapped between Heaven and Hell, sent back again and again to protect those whose time has not yet come. Never before has he been tempted by the desires of mortal flesh. But then, he never had to watch over Tess Darcy before. For Tess he’ll break every rule, even if it costs him his immortal soul.
Haunted by nightmares of the stalker who nearly killed her, Tess has buried herself deep in the Australian Outback to escape her past. But Kangaroo Creek isn’t quite the quaint little town it looked on the map. Nothing is what it seems here. Every night, the same incredibly sensual dreams visit her, leaving her wanting more. The Librarian’s channeling demons, and assures Tess the handsome hunk she just ran into is dead. The bookstore seems to have rather unusual clients, and destroyed photos have a way of reappearing over and over again.
Other than that it’s a peaceful little town…until the man who nearly killed her returns from the dead. Is Jared the man of her dreams? Can he save her from her nightmares, or will the magic that haunts this town consume them both?
Previously Published
(2014) 5x5 Publishing, Ellora's Cave
Acknowledgements
Cover: Valerie Tibbs, Tibbs Design
Prologue
The traffic moved like thick sludge along Main Street, New York, the sticky heat of the late summer day causing cars and motorists alike to simmer. Tempers rose, horns blared, and in his old car with its finely tuned engine, Chad Fisher watched his ex-girlfriend.
Watched her walk along the busy New York sidewalk. Watched her firm ass cheeks bunch and flex under the faded denim of her shorts.
His cock twitched, a painful rod of eager steel too long deprived of the velvet rasp of her tongue. A low groan rumbled in his chest but Chad kept his hands on the wheel. In fifty yards, Tess would be home.
He had to get to her first.
The forgotten shack deep in the scrublands two hours north awaited them. Prepared for their arrival. The double bed dusted with blood-red rose petals, the scented candles strategically placed. The heavy chains oiled and bolted to the concrete slab.
His obsession boiled like a vat of sickly sweet molasses churning in the cauldron of his skull. It was time to make Tess understand whom she belonged to. Whom she would always belong to.
He shot a look at the empty seat beside him. Plastic cable ties just waiting to lock around Tess’s wrists and ankles. Cloth and chloroform in easy reach in case she put up a fight.
A slow grin pulled at his lips and his deprived cock began to pulse with greed. It was time to bring their “break” to an end. For good.
Eyes back on Tess, Chad watched as she approached the intersection. Watched her turn the corner and disappear.
Now.
With a quick glance over his shoulder he planted his right foot, the powerful engine launching the unassuming car into motion.
After Tess.
A car blasted its horn as Chad cut across the congested traffic, a woman squealed as he crossed the sidewalk. He didn’t stop.
Sixty-two steps and Tess would be at her front door.
The undercarriage of the car ground over the gutter as, with a sharp turn, he left the sidewalk and turned into Tess’s street, leaving Main Street behind him.
There she was. Almost at her small apartment.
The street was empty, the sidewalk clear. The sun sat low on the horizon behind him. When Tess turned, its blinding rays would be in her eyes.
Chad’s cock sprang into ravenous life again.
Too fucking long deprived…
His foot flattened th
e accelerator.
With a savage growl, the car, so long straining at the leash, leapt forward after her, closing the distance in a heartbeat.
He screeched to a halt and jumped out of the car before Tess even turned.
“Hi, blossom.” The words were a whispered breath as they slipped from his lips.
Eyes the color of dark chocolate locked on his. “Chad?” Recognition shattered to terror, seconds before he smashed his fist against her finely sculptured jaw. A jaw he had kissed a thousand times.
A jaw he would kiss a million times more.
She dropped into his snatching arms, limp.
Pliant.
Chad’s smile grew wide as, with an action he’d practised for the last six weeks, he threw her into the backseat of his car. Slamming the door shut, he moved to the driver’s side, calm, relaxed and totally at ease. If anyone looked out his or her window, all they’d see was a bloke in a baseball cap climbing into a late-model sedan. Nothing more. Nothing to remember.
Dropping into his seat, Chad snapped on his seatbelt, shooting Tess’s inert form a quick look in the rear-view mirror. “I’ve missed you, blossom.” He ran his tongue across his bottom lip, throat dry, balls aching. “You have no idea how much.”
With a silent chuckle, eyes lingering on her long, bare legs, his cock a straining shaft of hot steel in his jeans, Chad pulled back out into the street.
Straight into the path of an oncoming RV.
The last thing he saw before the RV tore him in half was Tess’s eyes. Wide and dazed, meeting his in the rear-view mirror.
Then nothing.
Chapter 1
He crossed the floor of her bedroom as he had every night for the last five: eyes burning with desire, cock a rigid pole pointing straight up from the dark thatch between his thighs. Moonlight filtered through the open window, playing over his almost pearlescent flesh and casting his face in shadows.
From her bed, body quivering with hungry anticipation, Tess Darcy watched him, pussy sodden with aching lust.
Muscles seemingly sculpted from smoke coiled and flexed as he approached her, fluid and steely all at once. The contradiction drove her wild and her pussy fluttered.
Her fists knotted in the tangled bed sheets, breath growing short and shallow with each step he took closer. A gust of hot wind blew through the window, kissing her already fevered flesh until she shivered with wanton pleasure. She pressed her thighs together, squeezed her pussy tight and bit back a moan.
How could she be this aroused? When even a summer night’s breeze almost brought her to climax?
Eyes that glowed with consuming passion raked over her and Tess gasped.
That was how. Her lover.
Silently he reached the foot of her bed, gaze burning a slow path over her tingling limbs, caressing her breasts, belly, pussy. Cool fingers, long and impossibly strong, curled around her ankles and as his hypnotic eyes held hers captive, he thrust her legs apart.
Wet tension flooded Tess’s sex. Oh, God, yes.
With fluid ease and undeniable purpose, he placed one knee and then the other onto the mattress, the corded columns of his legs pushing hers further apart, exposing her throbbing sex to his inspection.
Waves of hot want crashed over her. She arched her back, lifting her ass from the bed to meet her silent lover’s descending mouth. Immediately his tongue found her swollen clit, like the cool kiss of spring mist on her flushed sex. She bucked, wanting that tongue, that mouth, to devour her. “Jesus. That’s so good.”
The fingers around her ankles relaxed—just enough to let his cool hands slide up her calves to her knees, forcing her thighs even further apart. The tongue on her sex stabbed between her hot folds, lapped at the fresh cream coating them. It flicked the small nub of flesh until Tess flung her head from side to side and rammed her hips harder to his face.
Tension mounted. Her pussy contracted.
The tongue rolled over her clit, plunged into her slit and back to her clit again.
“Oh, fuck me.”
Her cry was hoarse. Raw.
The cool hands at her knees slipped to her thighs, icy on her fevered, wanton skin. Pushed her wider. Wider. Granting his insatiable, masterful mouth complete and absolute access to her clit, sex and ass.
Tess’s fists pulled on the sheets, tore them from the mattress. Juices flooded her sex.
Lick.
“Oh…”
Flick.
“My…”
Stab.
“Fucking…”
Suck.
“God…”
Bite.
“Yes.”
Just as she knew she could take no more, that she was on the edge of the precipice ready to fall, her lover stopped. Lifted his head.
Eyes like ice stared into hers, boring into her soul.
“Tease.” she gasped.
He didn’t reply. He never did. Instead he straightened, knees still firmly planted beside hers, and wrapped one large hand around his rigid organ, stroking its bulbous head with his thumb.
Tess sucked in a breath, the squirming tension in her pussy impatient. That massive, solid cock would be soon embedded in her sex, stretching her to the very limits. Meeting his burning stare, she caught her breath as he moved closer, cock lined up with her spread folds.
She was ready.
Ready to be consumed.
To be—
The raucous laugh of a lone kookaburra shattered the night.
With a gasp, Tess sat bolt upright, heart hammering against her chest, nostrils flaring.
She stared about the room, her eyes darting from one dark corner to the next. Nothing but unpacked boxes, stacks of books and deep moon-cast shadows. Alone. She was alone.
A growl of frustration tore from her throat as she dragged her hands through her tousled hair. A dream. Just another goddamn dream.
Outside, the insomniac kookaburra screeched with mirth again.
Biting back a curse, Tess dropped back onto her bed. “Fuck.” Her mutter fell heavy in the silence of the night, as did her angry sigh.
Five nights. Five nights in a row of the most explosive sex of her life, only to awaken every time to discover it was just a dream. She stared up at the still unfamiliar ceiling of her bedroom, craving release.
Five nights.
She shook her head, pulse leaping into frantic flight at the tickling strokes of her hair on her neck. “This is getting ridiculous.” Jumping from the bed, she crossed to the window, gripping the sill with hands that still trembled from sexual tension.
The distant flickering lights of Kangaroo Creek dotted the blackness, like some higher being had thrown down a handful of stars on a velvet blanket.
Tess snorted. Stars on velvet; what a romantic way to describe the weird little country town. She’d only been in the Creek, as the locals so eloquently called it, for four months now but already she knew there was little romance to it. Outback Australia might look like an amazing adventure in all the tourist pamphlets, full of exotic life and breathtaking scenery, but for a girl from New York trying to find herself again, it was just plain lonely.
But isn’t that what you wanted? Isolation?
A shiver rippled up Tess’s spine and the hair at her nape stood on end. Yes, that was exactly what she wanted. After the hell she’d been through—the nightmare of Chad’s obsession—the thought of letting anyone close to her again made her stomach roll and her chest ache.
She should have known he was unhinged the very first date. After only an hour in, his ice-blue eyes shining with a fervour at the time she’d found intriguing, he’d begun talking about their future. She’d thought he was joking at the time, the detailed description he gave of their future home—a small apartment overlooking Central Park, with an office for you and a personal gym for me, their future days—cuddling on the sofa as Frank Sinatra plays softly in the background, and their future nights—exploring each other’s bodies on red satin sheets. Slowly. Completely. Nothing but the
feel of skin on skin, sweat on sweat—making her laugh. By the third date, that zealous enthusiasm for their “Happily Ever After” had tempered. He didn’t mention their supposed days to come, only the minutes they spent together, complaining occasionally that they weren’t enough.
It wasn’t until three weeks into the relationship, just when she was beginning to relax and begin to contemplate the possibility of their “days to come,” just when she’d let him move beyond the heavy necking session in his car or on her sofa to the “exploration” of each other’s bodies he’d spoken of on their first date, that she noticed he was everywhere. If she was having coffee with friends or colleagues at an inner-city cafe, he would conveniently be walking past, explaining away the coincidence with a laughing “What are the odds I had a meeting in the same suburb?” If she was conducting an interview on the steps of New York’s Town Hall, he’d be standing at a nearby newspaper vendor, an open magazine in his hands.
When she’d called him on it, a sense of disquiet squirming in the pit of her stomach, he’d scoffed, laughing at her over-suspicious journalist’s mind. But his eyes hadn’t laughed. His eyes had been flat. Unreadable. And when they’d made love that night—the last time she’d ever let him touch her—he’d whispered into her ear over and over again that she was his, only his, forever and ever, he loved her, loved her, pounding into her, punctuating each feverish statement with such brutal, savage greed she’d yelled at him to stop.
She’d told him it was over the following day. When he’d turned up at her office with a dozen roses, a diamond necklace, and an apology she didn’t want to hear. She told him it was over and she didn’t want to see him again.
But she had. Everywhere. He joined her gym, despite having his own in his garage. He started to jog the same route around the park she did. He shopped at the same grocery store she did. He sat in his parked car half a block away from her apartment, watching her leave for work. Waiting there when she came home. He sent her roses, after roses, after roses.
Then came the attempted abduction and the accident.
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