by Sable Hunter
Small talk was overrated. “Damn, you’re gorgeous. I guess men tell you that at least twice a day.” He rubbed his thumb over the smooth skin of her cheek. “I love this tan. I’d like to lick your sun-kissed body from head to toe.”
Hannah felt her whole body go warm with a rosy glow. “It’s not a tan. My dad’s Hispanic, and my mom’s Irish. That’s why I have auburn hair and blue eyes. I’m a mutt.”
Kyle laughed, the first real laugh he’d had all day. “Hell, no form of the word dog could ever apply to you. You’re exquisite.”
“Thank you.” Was she beautiful? It didn’t really matter if she was or not. She wanted to believe it, at least for tonight. Sadly, Hannah listened to the song as it came to an end. If she had her way, their dance would’ve gone on and on.
With a screech of an electric guitar, the band changed tempos, breaking out into a rousing, hard-driving beat. Kyle glanced over his shoulder and saw Saxon was on his phone. The woman Anna had been with was nowhere in sight. Good, time to get down to business. Swinging her out into an arc, he pulled her up tightly to him, this time fitting his thigh between her legs. “Now, I’ve got you where I want you.”
“Oh,” Hannah breathed, shocked at the feeling of her femininity pressed against his hard muscle.
Kyle’s blood spiked at her sexy little gasp. Looking her straight in the eye, he asked, “Are you enjoying yourself?”
“I am.”
“You better.” He teased her with a wicked grin.
“Tell me about you,” she encouraged. Hannah wanted to press every memory of this evening in her mind like petals in a keepsake book.
Talking about himself wasn’t what Kyle wanted to do, but he humored her. “I graduated from UT, intended to play a little football, but decided to serve my country instead.” That was a whitewashed version of the truth. “I’m here tonight with one of my buddies. I have five close friends who do their best to keep me out of trouble. Two of them are in town now, and I hope to see the others soon.”
His voice was deep, with a rough rasp which sent shivers over her skin. “Do you get in trouble often, Kyle?”
“Yea I do, but a little trouble is fun. Do you want to see if we can stir up some trouble of our own?” He kissed her on the corner of her mouth and grinned when she turned her lips to collide with his. The little darling was hungry for him. “I think I got my answer.” With another shift of their bodies, he had her riding his thigh. The heat of her pussy seemed to almost scald his leg. “Do you like the way I make you feel?”
“Yes,” she confessed without hesitation, her sex throbbing with unexpected need.
“Good. Let’s go get a table.” He pulled her from the dance floor, needing a little more privacy. Kyle moved her out in front of him, liking the sway of her hips as she walked. Keeping Hannah a little ahead of him covered up the bulge in his pants. The throb in his cock was driving him crazy. “God dammit,” he muttered under his breath and bit his knuckle.
Hannah looked over her shoulder and caught Kyle staring at her bottom. His interest made her feel so feminine that the wiggle in her steps got a little loose. Is this what it felt like to be desired? Hannah knew she could get used to Kyle’s sexy eyes on her body.
Another woman approached him as he led her through the bar, but he said inane words of apology and walked on. They ended up at a booth in a far corner of the room and he scooted into the seat next to her, pushing Hannah all the way against the wall. “Now, you tell me about yourself, Anna. I want to know everything.”
“Hannah.” She corrected him again, wishing she didn’t have to.
“That’s right, sorry.” He motioned for a waiter to bring two more beers. “How old did you say you were?”
“I didn’t, but I’m twenty-three.”
“You’re just a baby, and I’m on the other side of thirty.” He took a long swig of a dark pungent beverage. “I’ve been a helicopter pilot for eight years, taking classes at night. Hell, I even passed the bar while on active duty.”
“I’m impressed, but thirty isn’t old.”
“It can be, sweetheart. What do you do for a living?” He wanted to know more about the girl behind those deep blue eyes. He drained the bottle and sat it down, eyeing the full one she held in her hand. “Don’t like beer?”
What she did with her time wasn’t something she wanted to discuss, but Cinderella wasn’t ready to leave the ball quite yet. “I’m not much on beer. Have you had too much to drink?” She didn’t want her Prince Charming passing out on her before the clock struck midnight.
“Don’t worry about me, I’m fine. I’ve only had…” Kyle looked up toward the ceiling, furrowing his brow with concentration. His lips moved as he counted in silence and Hannah wanted to have them pressed against hers again, badly. “Oh, hell, I can’t remember how many I’ve had. Let’s just say it’s more than one and less than a hundred. Enough about me, now what do you do for a living?”
Hannah hedged. “I want to own a nursery or become a florist someday. I love flowers.” She wanted desperately to get the focus off of her for a minute. “What does your family do?”
“My family dabbles in oil, but I’d rather go into business with my friends.”
“What kind of business would that be?”
He was pleased she hadn’t asked him more questions about his family. Usually you mention oil to a woman in Texas and all she sees when looking at you is dollar signs. “Security and investigation. We’re ex-marines and I think we could put the skills Uncle Sam taught us to good use.”
He looked thoughtful and Hannah touched his shoulder. “If that’s what you want to do, do it.”
“Oh, I will.” Kyle began to peel the label off his beer bottle. “But, I still have family obligations which will take precedence. When you’re the only child, you don’t have a choice.”
“Children always have an obligation to their families, Kyle. You don’t have to be an only child to be in that predicament. Have you ever been married?”
“Nope, never been married. Are you going to drink this?” She shook her head and he claimed her beer. Damn, he had to get a grip. The funeral was over and there was nothing he could do for Nina, except—hell, he didn’t know what to do. He stared at Hannah, watching her wrinkle her nose as she sipped her drink. “Let’s get you something you’d like better.”
With an apologetic wink, he grabbed a margarita from the next passing waitress. She didn’t argue. Apparently, Kyle had a way with women.
“Try this, it’s good.”
She did and he was right, it was very good.
Kyle reached over and brushed a grain of salt off her lip. “I’m so glad I ran into you. You’re exactly what I needed tonight.”
“Why is that?” She took another sip of the sweet concoction.
“I lost somebody I cared about and I just found out about it today.” There, he’d said it. For some reason, it made him feel better. Like he’d let go of a heavy weight.
“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Hannah touched his face in sympathy.
“Don’t be, life goes on. Let’s get you another drink. Something different.”
She wasn’t through with this one, but she didn’t argue. Instead, she thought about how he must be feeling. “I know what it’s like to lose someone you love. I lost my mother.”
Kyle thought how sad it would be to lose his mother. He covered her hand with his. “That’s too bad. I’m sorry. I can’t even imagine how hard that must be.”
If he only knew, but she didn’t want to weigh him down with her problems. He seemed to have enough of his own. “The passing of time makes it easier to bear.”
“I’m sure you’re right.” He raised his bottle in a toast. “Let’s get off these morbid subjects.” Motioning to a waitress, Kyle called for yet another drink. “Bring the lady a Tequila Sunrise and maybe I can tempt her into watching one with me in the morning.
Thunderbird – Equalizers
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A Glimpse into…
A WISHING MOON
MOON MAGICK SERIES
Arabella Landry is a witch on a mission. She is desperately seeking for the incredible lover that has been setting her dreams on fire. With the help of the powerful women in her family, she finds him. Unfortunately, he is completely paralyzed from a devastating rock-climbing accident.
Jade Landale, a conservative Texas Congressman falls head over heels for the beautiful woman that refuses to give up on him. Soon, his world turns topsy turvy as he finds himself embroiled in a world of magic, murder and the hottest, sweetest love-making imaginable.
Arabella lifted her hips off the bed, searching in vain for someone who wasn’t there. Quaking with desire, she wrapped her arms around herself and tried to breathe. Lying still, she listened to the lonely sounds of silence. The house was quiet. She was all alone, as usual. How wonderful it would be to have someone in her life like that incredible man. She lay there for a moment and relished the sensations she had enjoyed in his arms. Never had she experienced a dream so intense, yet the climax still vibrating between her legs was definitely real.
Searching her memory, she relived the dream. Who was he? He seemed so familiar, but for the life of her, she couldn’t remember where she would have known him from. Maybe the sense of recognition was just an after-effect of the incredibly erotic dream. A face and a body like his would have been impossible to forget. Hugging herself tightly, she fought to hold on to the memory of his touch. When she had awakened from the dream, finding herself alone had been sheer torture. Every fiber in her being longed for him, making her want to reach out and take him in her arms once again. Only, he wasn’t here.
How frustrating. Perhaps the time had come to find a real lover.
She flung the sheet off her body and sat up on the side of the bed. Slowly she stood, and steadied herself enough to walk to the bathroom. Pulling the silk gown over her head, she turned on the shower and faced herself in the vanity mirror. Lifting her long hair from her neck, she twisted the long honey colored strands into a knot and secured the heavy weight with a clip. Leaning closer to the mirror, she gasped. Flipping on the brighter overhead light, she could not believe her eyes or her fingers. Dream or no dream, her neck and upper chest was covered with a faint red rash; a rash left behind by her dream lover’s five o’ clock shadow.
The abrasions on her soft skin seemed to be evidence that more had happened in the twilight hours than just a dream. This intrigued her. How could this be possible? Could he be a real person? Could she return to his arms? The possibilities racing through her mind would have been unusual for most people. However, Arabella Landry was definitely not your typical twenty-four year old woman.
Arabella looked at life through different eyes. For her, the world was a magical place, where probability and certainty could be manipulated by sheer will, and forces existing beyond the bounds of imagination could be tapped into and used to create reality. She had been brought up accepting magick as a way of life.
When she viewed last night’s dream through the lens of magick, a whole new world of possibilities opened up. Something deep within her seemed to be convinced the Adonis with the incredible body actually lived and breathed. Arabella wanted to believe he was a flesh and blood man more than anything.
He had to be real. The words he had whispered were burned in her memory. “Come to me,’ he had said, and she intended to do exactly that…just as soon as she figured out how. She made her shower quick, and after towel drying her body, she slipped on jeans and a soft cotton top.
From the mirror, she could see the reflection of her bed. Nothing would have made her happier than to crawl back between its soft, welcoming sheets and dream. She wanted to see him again. Closing her eyes, Arabella remembered nestling against that incredible chest and clutching those shoulders, which were as broad as a bus. And his face! He had the face of an angel. Undeniably, her dream lover had to be the most powerfully built man she could ever remember seeing, touching, or kissing.
Arabella didn’t have a lot of experience with men. Opening up to people had always been difficult for her. So often when she tried, she’d been slapped down for her trouble. So far, she hadn’t been lucky enough to find a man who could accept her different lifestyle. How incredible it had been to see no judgment in his eyes, only acceptance and desire.
She wanted to hold on to every detail of last night’s dream. The desperation to do something to connect with the sexy phantasm bedeviled her until she realized she needed to make a sketch of him before a single detail of his beautiful face faded from her memory. She sped down the stairs and found her sketchbook. Flipping on the coffee pot, she hopped up on a bar stool and began to draw…him. High cheekbones, chiseled features, soft hair, well-defined abs and steel-strong legs all added up to much more than a sum of his parts. The smoldering look she added to his face came straight from her mind’s eye. Arabella ran her fingers over the drawing, remembering how caressing his skin felt. Propping the sketchpad up on the bar, she poured herself a cup of strong, fragrant coffee. Adding sugar and cream, she stirred the mixture and licked the spoon, all the while studying the portrait she had quickly drawn. He still looked vaguely familiar.
A sense of urgency washed over her. How could she just go about the tasks of the day after last night’s experience? How could she think of anything else but him?
* * * *
Jade Landale was a prisoner in his own body. Just a few weeks ago, he had been vibrant, alive and free. Now, he might as well be dead—in fact, he fantasized about escaping this nightmare. Paralyzed from his neck down, he couldn’t even swallow on his own. Communication proved to be impossible. Reese had tried, he had continued to ask him questions and instructed him to blink if he understood, but the doctors were not the least bit encouraging. They kept using the term catastrophic injury. Apparently, this time he had really screwed up. Kate had been after him to give up the extreme sports he loved so well, she said his career needed to come first. But he loved the feeling of scaling a sheer rock wall or free diving in the depths of the sea. She told him he would end up killing himself, and, apparently, she’d been right.
Since the diagnosis, Kate had only been in to see him twice and the last time she made an appearance, Jade could tell she’d given up on him. She couldn’t even bring herself to touch his hand. His girlfriend had always been overly squeamish. Apparently, she didn’t have the stomach for a fiancé who might never be more than a vegetable. Despite what Reese told her about the blinking, Kate didn’t believe he could hear her or understand her. Frankly, he wished he had the opportunity to tell her how hard conveying a message to someone who wouldn’t look you in the eye could be. Dr. Reynolds did not want to give up on him; he had said more tests needed to be done before they could be positive of Jade’s prognosis. One of the other doctors assisting on his case said he wasn’t sure Jade was cognizant of his surroundings at all. But he was, much to his dismay—he was, achingly, aware of everything.
The realization of his situation terrified Jade. He screamed endlessly in his head. Over and over, he relived the moment when the bolt failed and he had fallen from one of the sheer faces of E-Rock. He’d known from the moment he landed so brutally and awkwardly at the base of the cliff that his situation was bad. Blessedly, he had only remained conscious for a few moments before passing out. From the moment he regained consciousness, he had known something was horribly wrong, because he felt nothing—absolutely nothing.
The only relief Jade found were his dreams. When he closed his eyes and slept, he could walk and talk and hope and believe that somehow this nightmare would soon be over. Reese and other members of his staff still refused to believe fate could be so cruel. After all, they had pinned their hopes on him being the next governor of the great state of Texas. Now unless a miracle came along, all of his dreams had come to an end.
While a nurse turned him from side to side, giving him a sponge b
ath, he escaped to a better place deep within his own mind. Last night, he had experienced a particularly intense and strange dream. He had been back on Enchanted Rock—not climbing this time, but with a woman—an amazingly beautiful woman. His dream body had reacted instantly to her, and without the expectations of reality, he had enjoyed her in ways he knew he would probably never enjoy a woman again. She had been so lovely and so very responsive.
Dreams were his only solace, now. He much preferred an alternate reality to this one. The land where he escaped to when he closed his eyes reminded him of something his great grandmother used to tell him. The only daughter of a Cherokee medicine man, she carried with her the old ways and the old beliefs. She used to tell him that even though her body had grown stiff and uncooperative with age, at night—in her dreams—she went to places she could no longer go and did things she was no longer capable of doing. She had called the odd phenomenon ‘walking on the wind’. Maybe, that’s what he had been doing. One thing he knew, his dreams sure beat the hell out of where he was now. He shut his eyes and left the room.
A Wishing Moon
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A Glimpse into…
COME WITH ME
(Dixie Dreaming)
Jake is the manager of the golf course at the country club. He’s designing and overseeing a building project and the sight of him shirtless and sweating and flexing…has given Lacy ideas. Jake has a certain reputation of being able to handle almost any task he’s given. Rumors of his sexual prowess are legendary. Now, every time Lacy sees him working with his hands, doing some heavy lifting, his body gleaming with the sheen of exertion – she begins to hope that Jake can give her what no one else ever has.
IF - she can just figure out how to ask him. But what Lacy doesn’t know is that Jake has ideas of his own. His outlook on love and life has been molded by the mistakes of his family. He doesn’t think true love exists, there’s just sex. Until he meets Lacy. This Fourth of July celebration proves to have more explosions in store than those in the sky, for Jake sets out to prove that he can give Lacy exactly what she needs. In fact, Jake intends to show Lacy that what she needs – is him.