Tornado_A Paranormal Romance

by Jasmine Wylder

  Mother now sat among the new women that had joined them after they had been freed from the College. They were nervous and shy just like Brighid had been at first but Mother had welcomed them into the fold and they were starting to understand their freedoms. There were even a few priests that had come on board. All of them had been men who begged to be allowed to stay with their wives and their wives begging for their husbands to join them. It was an odd situation for all of them but they were slowly adjusting.

  Eirrick glanced at Brighid and smiled at her. She beamed back at him as she bit into a roasted wing, the grease dripping down her chin. He wanted to let it run all the way to her chest before licking it off but for now, public displays were being discouraged. At least, displays as charged as licking her chest would be.

  He leaned in and licked at her neck, which made her giggle and wipe her chin. Things were going to have to get back to normal soon. How were their new members meant to get comfortable with the openly sexual natures of dragons if they hid it from them? Although, it seemed as though some of the girls were getting quite comfortable with it.

  "It seems we will have a population boom soon," he whispered in Brighid's ear, nodding as half a dozen of the College girls slipped off with the younger warriors. He smiled proudly. Their small clan needed to grow. "We'll have to start looking for a bigger ship soon."

  "A new ship," Brighid murmured. "That might be very nice. Especially since this one is so old and outdated."

  She tossed her meat back to her plate and stood, holding her hand to him. He took it and she tugged him from the room. As soon as they stepped into the hall she pressed herself against him, kissing him fiercely. Eirrick grasped her ass and pulled her tight, grinding at her through their clothes. Brighid gasped and gave a little shudder that had him stiffening. Without wasting a moment of time, he picked her up over his shoulder and raced for their rooms. Brighid giggled wildly.

  As soon as they were alone, Eirrick pressed her against the wall and began to work at the ties on her dress. Brighid ripped at his pants, moaning.

  "I love you," she gasped out.

  "I love you, too."

  Eirrick slowed himself, turning his touch to be gentle rather than demanding. His beautiful wife always needed the tenderness he gave her. After a lifetime of thinking that he was going to be handed off to someone who could do what he wanted with impunity, it was an adjustment for her to speak to her own desires, even now.

  "I belong to you." He cupped her face in his hands. "You know that, right? I am yours and I love you."

  She kissed his palm. "I know."

  "You're so beautiful. So brave." He brushed his mouth against hers again. "I am so lucky that you came into my life."

  Brighid giggled. "You mean lucky that you decided to buy me from the auction."

  Eirrick grimaced. "You're never going to let me live that down, are you?"

  "No. But you're right. Not about you being lucky, I'm the lucky one. About you said at the feast. The population boom. We are going to have a population boom." She giggled again and Eirrick had to laugh with her. She was acting as though she had drunk too much wine but he hadn't seen her drink any wine at the feast. Come to think of it, he hadn't seen her drink wine in a few days now. Brighid took his hand and pressed it to her stomach. "And we're leading the new generation."

  Eirrick's breath caught in his throat. A smile blossomed on his face and he laughed out loud, unable to contain his happiness. He wrapped both arms around Brighid and swung her in a circle. When he set her down, he dropped to his knees and pressed a gentle kiss to her stomach. Brighid smiled down at him, running her fingers through his hair.

  "I'm glad you're happy," she whispered. "After everything that has happened, we haven't been able to establish a normal and—"

  "Normal is overrated." He got back to his feet and beamed at her. "There is nothing that could make me happier than this, Brighid. My love. Our child will be strong and mighty, a great warrior."

  She rolled her eyes. "And what if we have a girl?"

  "Then she will be strong, mighty and a great warrior."

  "Oh, really?"

  Eirrick picked up Brighid and carried her to their bed. "Really. Because all of our children will be strong and mighty. And they will be beautiful like their mother. I hope they all have your dark hair and your eyes. I love you and I want our children to look like you." He laid her on the bed and draped himself over her. "I love you."

  Brighid held out her arms, showing him without words how much she loved him too. Eirrick happily drowned in her embrace, rejoicing internally as he considered the years of life and love they had ahead of them.

  *****

  THE END

  Protected by the Billionaire Bear

  Description

  Being the only witness to a grizzly murder, Jo will have to seek protection from the sizzling hot company’s owner if she wants to stay above ground.

  Josephine “Jo” Wentlandt is a ferocious blue-eyed curvy environmentalist. While protesting the business deal that threatens her home state, Jo unexpectedly becomes the only witness to a murder. As she runs deep into the forest to get away from the murderer she unexpectedly comes upon the one man who can actually offer her real protection.

  Clayton Porter is a reclusive billionaire tucked away in the Montana backcountry, but the sought after man is more than what he seems. With a wild secret he doesn’t share with anyone and a serious aversion to intimacy, he is distressed to find a disheveled woman with searing blue eyes and thick curves standing at his doorstep in need of help.

  With more than just their lives at stake and the hunt quickly moving in for the kill, Jo and Clayton must find a way to move their fears aside and embrace the untamed parts of themselves if they want to surprise their enemy and take him from predator to prey.

  Chapter One

  “We wouldn’t have to create a world on other planets if we just took better care of the world we have right here,” Josephine Wentlandt could feel her voice rising.

  She was well aware that the bulky man, in need of a shower, that sat in front of her was pushing her buttons on purpose, but still, she seemed bent on arguing with him.

  “Why come all the way up here? Why not go to Washington if you want to make a difference?” The man was ruddy faced and Jo could smell his armpits from three feet away.

  “Can I get my check?” she turned to the bartender.

  “Because,” she stood and took out her wallet, “change doesn’t just happen in Washington, it happens right here.”

  Once out of the bar Jo could think more clearly. It was a cool Montana evening with just the right amount of chill to keep things fresh. In truth, Jo had never been to DC and had no immediate plans to ever go. She liked living in a small town where there were far more wild animals than humans, and the only reason she cared so much was because she wanted to keep it that way.

  Jo had put back three beers during her dinner, since the man next to her had been buying them, and now she was feeling buzzed.

  Where had Rick gotten off to? Jo wondered as she looked around. He was supposed to meet her for dinner. Rick had been the one to organize the protest against the Porter Company. An intrinsically optimistic man, he was really quite good at launching a vitriolic protest. He’d managed to stop work for the Porter Company employees for three days when their protest began.

  As the state of Montana became increasingly insolvent, the Porter Company had swooped in to buy up land that had been previously protected for conservation purposes.

  Jo had spent her whole life in Montana. She’d gone to school for wildlife ecology and forestry, and though she certainly appreciated the global perspective, her true passion was for her home state.

  The snow-covered peaks she now looked at had begun forming over 170 million years ago. Jo took in a long breath savoring the smell of the ponderosa pine trees even as it mixed with the smell of pale ale that still clung to her.

  "Ok," Jo turned and began walki
ng back through the trees toward the camp of fifteen-odd protestors. Rick had managed to get a good amount of media coverage for their small group as it stood against a giant company.

  Jo walked into what should have been their camp and stopped. The beer had made her head foggy and she tried to shake her brain free. The camp was deserted.

  The twelve other tents were now gone, the jeeps and trucks of the protesters were nowhere to be seen. Only two tents now stood—Jo's yellow canvas and Rick's blue. What was going on?

  She walked over to Rick’s tent and looked in. It was empty but his things were still there. Where had everyone else gone?

  Jo did a full turn, looking for some clue to the mystery. Had Rick called their protest off? Had Porter Company given in to their demands to cease and desist? Jo walked out of camp, down a little piece of road, and up a small turn off where Rick usually parked. His big blue sedan was still there.

  After looking in the car and finding nothing off Jo turned and began back toward camp. Her only solution was to wait and hear what had happened directly from Rick.

  On her right, a small light sparkled through the darkness and the thick trees then went out. Jo moved off the road and into the forest where she'd seen the flickering light.

  “Negotiations are over,” a hard voice sailed through the darkness. Jo squinted, not recognizing the owner of the voice.

  “If you think we’re going to hand this over to you …” Jo moved forward more quickly now, she would recognize Rick’s voice anywhere. She took a step forward and into view of the back of Rick’s head. Jo watched as the first speaker turned, gun extended.

  It all seemed so implausible… unreal. Jo would think back on that moment many times over. If she’d only been able to act faster, to do something… but she’d not even been able to process the sight of the man holding a gun.

  In one more second the man pulled the trigger and Rick’s head whipped back. Blood splattered the trees around him. It was so unexpected, so drastic, that for a moment Jo thought it couldn’t possibly be real at all, just a figment of her imagination.

  Jo heard a scream in her ears, but barely understood it to be her own. It was in those few seconds when the man turned his attention to Jo that reality came into focus.

  The gun began to lift again and Jo began to move. She heard the first shot as she ran straight into the forest.

  It was dark. Too dark to see properly and she fell over roots, leaves, branches, logs.

  Her movements were chaotic at best.

  She heard another shot fired into the night and Jo's body began to move faster. Her brain was beginning to understand the importance of her movements and suddenly she was pushing forward into the trees with all of her senses on high alert.

  The man, who was that man? He worked for the Porter Company, of that she was certain, but she couldn’t remember his name or his position.

  Jo’s lungs burned but she didn’t slow down. The sound of the man following her began to fade but still Jo didn’t stop. She knew that the more distance she could put between herself and the man, the better her chance for survival. It was dark enough to make it hard for him to follow her.

  It felt like years of running blindly into the forest before she thought she might have lost the man.

  When Jo came out onto the lake she finally let herself stop. It had to have been hours that she'd been traveling, or else she'd been moving very fast.

  Her chest was heaving and her legs, though quickly turning to jelly, were still ready to run.

  She tried to silence her gasps so she could listen for signs of movement but her lungs wouldn’t slow.

  Finally, as her body began to normalize, Jo was able to listen to the world around her. There were the usual sounds of wildlife but nothing that spoke of a killer on the loose.

  She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. Forward, she told herself. It wasn’t time to stop yet. She broke off to the right moving around the lake.

  It was almost dawn when Jo stopped walking for the second time. She sat on a log and stared into the changing sky.

  She’d been forcing herself not to think of what had happened. She knew she had to focus only on the next step and then the next. But as she sat down the entirety of the night swept over her.

  A sob overwhelmed her body. Hot tears rose in her eyes and began to stream down her face. Her body felt like the air was being punched out of it. Her head throbbed. Jo pushed the palms of her hands onto her eyes. The cold sharp air hit her face and neck.

  Just as another sob wracked her body she heard something that made her stop mid-sob. Her breath stuck in her throat. She’d heard the cry of an animal.

  Jo held herself as still as possible. A thudding through the ground shook the log she sat on and vibrated up her body. Jo slowly looked up from the ground.

  Moving into the opening in front of her stood a giant grizzly bear. Jo sucked in her breath. This was no ordinary grizzly. Jo had run into bears many times in her life, but she’d never seen anything even close to the aberration in front of her.

  There was an old wives tale about a giant grizzly that roamed these woods, but Jo had only heard the most ridiculous liars ever claim to have seen such a bear.

  Now, Jo looked up to see a grizzly that defied anything she’d ever seen before. He stood ten feet tall and must have weighed well over a thousand pounds. His paws were larger than her head.

  Her body trembled as the bear moved toward her. All of her normal good instincts were falling away and, if she hadn’t been frozen to the spot in fear, she probably would have run off screaming.

  The earth crunched under the bear’s massive steps. She could smell its hot breath from fifteen feet away and it was still moving closer.

  Jo usually traveled the woods with a bear spray but she had nothing with her now. There was no tool that would get her out of this encounter. She knew all the best practices, don't make eye contact, don't yell, don't run, curl up on your side or lie flat on your belly… Jo sat frozen in her spot.

  Her eyes moved from his massive paws and lifted up along the body of the hulking animal. The grizzly was getting closer.

  Was he just curious about the human in his territory? This had to be a male bear based on size, and the most aggressive bears were usually females with babies to protect.

  The animal made a sound that Jo felt she understood. Without thinking about it, her eyes lifted.

  The grizzly was looking at her with a strange expression, a curious gaze. It seemed possible that she read something else in that look. It felt like… sympathy. Jo looked straight into the animal’s eyes. The bear moved no farther and Jo felt a shuddering breath escape her.

  It was probably only a few seconds that they stood like that, their eyes locked, but it felt like eternity.

  Look away, look away, Jo kept telling herself, but try as she might she could not look away. She felt something passing between her and the grizzly and it was as if they were trapped in time and space together, just them.

  Then, just as quickly as he’d come, the grizzly left. He thundered off into the forest and Jo watched the shaking trees quiver as the only sign of his retreat.

  “I’m alive,” she breathed. She looked down at herself then over at the huge paw prints left in the mud, the only sign that she hadn’t dreamed the creature.

  Jo opened her mouth and let out a shaky breath.

  Chapter Two

  Clayton Porter paced in his library. There was a fire in the grate and Clayton walked close to its light.

  It was quickly growing dark outside and Clayton was still thinking about the girl. His first instinct had been to come home and forget about her, sit into one of his oversized brown leather chairs and get lost in Proust, but he'd been unsuccessful in his attempt.

  His mind kept wandering back to her big blue eyes, the full curve of her face, the full curve of her body.

  She looked like she'd been through something. She looked cold, scared, and she'd been crying. The longer he'
d been home the more he'd been thinking that he'd done the wrong thing in leaving her there… but the longer he was home the less likely it would be to find her. That was an excuse, of course, he could find her if he wanted to, but he wasn't at all sure if he did want to.

  “Are you ready for supper sir?” Lincoln said with the same placid look he always wore. Lincoln had been Clayton’s father’s man and Clayton had decided to keep him on in the twenty years since his father’s death.

  “Yes, I’ll be down in a moment,” Clayton turned away from the other man and looked into the fireplace. “Actually,” Clayton called out to Lincoln’s retreating figure, “I think I’ll be a little late for dinner tonight.”

  Lincoln turned to look at Clayton, “Very good, sir.”

  Clayton listened to the sound of Lincoln’s footsteps receding. Was he really going to put on his boots and tromp around looking for a girl?

  There was no use avoiding it, it would bother him all night otherwise. He would just have to figure it out when he found her.

  Taking a deep breath he walked away from the fire and out of his library into the main hall. Clayton’s parents had owned homes in Connecticut, London, Paris, a penthouse in Manhattan. They'd traveled extensively and lived just about everywhere, but since the death of his father and quick demise of his mother, Clayton had taken residence in the Montana mansion and stayed put.

  He didn't like traveling, he hadn't liked it then and he didn't like it now. He liked the trees of the forest, the mountains, and the lakes. He liked the plants that grew naturally in uncultivated soil. He liked the solitude.

  He'd taken over the family business once he'd graduated with his MBA from Harvard and managed to grow the family's assets by more than 500%. It was something that Clayton gave "staying out of it" a lot of credit too. He had the feeling that most people stuck their nose where it didn't belong.

  Clayton held conference calls and emailed but mostly he relied on cold hard numbers to do the talking for him. He made 99% of his decisions off of the numbers that populated on his computer every morning.