Raz

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Raz Page 10

by J. S. Striker


  Lastly, he was the appointed guardian for Peter, with Peter only allowed to live so long as Raz was alive.

  It was a pretty tall order, and Eva reeled back from the information overload. She realized now that Lucinda setting her free hadn’t been because of mercy—it was all part of her strategy to get Raz to work for her some more and to set the conditions that Raz could do nothing but agree to, given that both Eva and Peter were to live in the end. It made her dislike their society even more. However, she had to hand it to the vampire leader for being so clever and couldn’t help but admire the tough, cold woman.

  Peter was quiet at first as he listened, but Raz put him at ease, bringing to the forefront their closeness that transpired in New Jersey. It was obvious that Peter looked up to Raz, and the way Raz doted on the boy had Eva’s heart melting. At the same time, she couldn’t stop staring at him and just taking the sight of him in, like he was water and she’d been thirsty for so long.

  It wasn’t one-sided. She thought it was at first—until she caught him looking at her like he wanted to devour her. Those dark eyes and that intense look combined had the sparks flying in the air and had her body responding, tingling little by little until it built up into a very pleasurable heat in her stomach. Her hands couldn’t contain themselves, and she had to repeatedly check herself from touching him right in front of her nephew.

  Finally, Peter declared that he was so full and needed to take a swim. He loved swimming near the cliffs and staying there for hours, and when he came back, he was often so tired that Eva had to remind him to take a shower first before crashing straight to bed.

  “Don’t wander too far,” Eva said softly, hugging Peter.

  “I won’t,” Peter promised.

  “Want to go hunting tomorrow?” Raz asked. “There’s an area here overpopulated with birds.”

  Peter lit up like a Christmas tree. “Neat! Tomorrow, then!”

  Then he was off like a rabbit, the door slamming shut. Eva stood up and listened to his footsteps, and Raz did the same. Silence filled the air, as if they both knew a single word spoken right now would ruin the mood.

  Five minutes later, when no sounds came from outside at all, they stared at each other, green clashing with blue.

  Then they jumped each other at the same time.

  Raz’s mouth fused with hers, kissing her hard and prying her mouth open with his tongue. She readily let him in, glorifying in the way he kissed her and made her feel things. Her tongue slid into his mouth, too, almost sobbing at how good he tasted and how much she missed this—how much she missed him.

  Wanting more, wanting all of him, she started sliding his shirt up. But he pushed her hands away and ripped at her shirt instead, making her gasp. Then he was lifting her using one hand on to the kitchen table, and a few dishes hit the floor.

  “Raz!” she protested, scandalized. “Peter will hear—”

  “He’s gone,” he clipped out, the lust barely contained in his voice.

  Then he turned her protest into moans as he yanked her bra down and latched on to a nipple, sucking hard and making pinpricks of pleasure shoot inside her in intense spurts. Her hands grabbed his hair and pulled him tighter, and she spread her legs and ground against the hardness that she felt underneath his trousers.

  She tore at his shirt, too. Then she frantically unzipped him and held his large shaft in her hand, feeling him grow harder and wanting that pulsing heat inside her.

  “Raz,” she sobbed out. “I want…”

  “I want, too,” he murmured. But it was his fingers that slid in, where he found her wet and clamping around him. He thrust those fingers repeatedly in a playful motion, then intensified the movement. “Come for me, Eva. Come hard for me.”

  The words were said in a low voice that sent shivers down her spine. He kissed her again, his other hand teasing her breasts, and she did come—in fact, she came so hard and violently that she had to brace herself against him as it racked her body up. Dimly, she felt something else sliding inside her and realized it was his cock, sliding in smoothly to the hilt. He wrapped her legs around him and started thrusting, even with his trousers still wound around his ankles and his torn shirt still half on him.

  Her orgasm ebbed away, but the buildup returned as he used speed and strength to tease her all over again. They bumped against the nearby kitchen island, then crashed into the coffee table trying to reach the bedroom. But they couldn’t, and he ended up bumping her back against the nearest wall and using the leverage to piston his cock in and out of her until she lost her damn mind.

  Pleasure rose from deep inside. When his tongue teased her neck, his scent filled her again. Then she was climaxing once more, crying out his name as she did so and reveling in the way he kept pounding inside her. Like he lost all control altogether, and it was all because of her. Her nails raked his skin, drawing blood, and she found herself sucking on it and on him.

  He called out her name, too. Then his fangs grew as he pierced her skin, drew some blood and elevated her orgasm to another level. She felt him buck against her, and she whispered for him to let go. When he finally did, she rode the wave of pleasure with him that took them to the skies and left them floating there.

  They pressed against each other, breathing harshly. She watched in fascination as his skin healed instantly from her scartches, and she was sure hers was doing the same. When she caught a bit of her breath back, she looked at him.

  He looked back.

  “I just made you my mate,” she declared. “And we’re stuck here. How are we going to survive this, Raz?”

  The corner of Raz’s lips lifted up, taking her breath away all over again.

  And he knew it.

  She snorted. He laughed, the pleasant sound filling the air.

  “We’ll find a way,” he promised.

  Love shone in those normally calm blue eyes. Eva held on to that.

  And she held on to him.

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  CHAPTER ONE

  Valley Joy was the kind of sleepy town that didn’t really bring much excitement about, considering its main hobbies involved the following: too little population where everyone knew everyone, gossiping between neighbors being a common thing, and no fun places to go to at night.

  Erik O’Riley wasn’t a fan of the first, because he couldn’t be as invisible as he wanted to be. Cities and crowds were much better for the likes of him, where he could move without too much detection.

  He didn’t really like the second, because what if one of the neighbors found out his true nature by accident? It would be all over town in less than a day, and they’d probably hold pitchforks while demanding to burn him at the stake.

  He definitely wasn’t a fan of the last because…well, where were you supposed to drink and pick up women willing to heat up the sheets with you?

  But Erik had a job to do—and unfortunately, that job included going to Valley Joy.

  It was late afternoon by the time he arrived in town, and he headed straight to the police station and looked for the town sheriff right off. Erik waited in the station’s tiny waiting room, trying to ignore the young blonde secretary gawking at him. He’d give it five hours, tops. He was pretty sure his appearance would be described a couple times over as gossip was passed around regarding the new neighbor.

  Ten minutes later, he was ushered into the sheriff’s room and finally met the man.

  John Malone was as robust as the day Erik had met him ten years ago in the city—but the man looked somewhat happier now, he had lost that sour expression he wore all the time. They exchanged pleasantries for a bit, with Erik politely asking about John’s family and kids. He didn’t miss the way the sheriff’s face lit up when he answered.

  Then John got right down to business. Without preamble, he pulled out a folder and slid it on th
e desk towards Erik, who picked it up without a word and began reading. There were pictures along with the files of victims and the nature in which they died—each eerily similar, each more violent than the last.

  John didn’t interrupt, waiting patiently and as still as a cat. It gave away his true nature, though no ordinary man would have figured it out.

  When Erik was done, he looked John in the eye.

  “So these happened in other towns?”

  John nodded. “Neighboring towns. Started further away near the border and steadily drew closer. The last few victims were in the town nearest to ours, a week ago. Then it stopped.”

  “Hmm. Did someone warn you? Gave you these reports?”

  “The sheriff in the neighboring town did. We all look out for each other.”

  Erik looked at the file again, his attention riveted on the bite marks of whatever was left of the victims. They were a combination of violet and black, with yellowish bubbles forming at the sides. Odd.

  “Any clues as to what we’re after here?”

  John shook his head. “It’s not a shifter. I can’t identify the marks.”

  “Doesn’t look vampire, either,” Erik murmured.

  “No. Can you stop this from happening in Valley Joy?”

  “I’m the man for the job.”

  “Great,” John said with a sigh. “I could help, but I want to keep up my human appearances and not disappear when we get victims. I need to reassure the townspeople with my presence.”

  Erik nodded, opting not to say that a cat shifter wouldn’t be much help, anyway—not when the victims were torn apart like this. John went on to explain that the attackers didn’t stay in the same town for too long—either they got tired of staying in once place easily, or just didn’t want to draw too much attention.

  When they were done discussing, they both stood up and shook hands.

  “I’ll take care of this problem for you, Sheriff.”

  That was, after all, what he came here for. Shifters like his kind were meant to protect—with the right incentive and motive.

  “Great. Let me show you where you’ll live in the meantime. There is plenty of food and honey in stock.”

  Wonderful. A sheriff after Erik’s heart.

  The sheriff led the way out of his office. With one last glance at the folder, Erik followed.

  *****

  He hadn’t been lounging in his new house—a one-story suburban style place with a bedroom and the basic appliances needed—for more than an hour when he saw lights turn on at the house next door, and voices carrying through. He was standing in the kitchen, eating a juicy steak and contemplating dessert when his sensitive ears picked up the male and female tones.

  Quietly, Erik moved towards the living room, not turning any of his own lights on. Through the window, he saw the man—an affable looking fellow who seemed to be trying his hardest to make the woman laugh. Erik noted that his tone was verging on desperate, and wondered how long until the woman cracked.

  Erik couldn’t see the woman with the way the porch arch was blocking her from sight, but it was obvious from her tone that she was being painfully polite…and putting him in the friend zone. Erik couldn’t help his grin when the persistent date finally got the picture as she didn’t invite him inside for coffee and practically slammed the door in his face.

  “Call me when you can!” the man shouted hopefully before dejectedly shuffling away.

  Erik chuckled, then shook his head. He went back to the kitchen to take care of the dishes, the neighbor forgotten as he got lost in his own thoughts. It was too early to shift and scout the area, especially with someone his size—he would need to do that later when everyone was asleep. Valley Joy had lots of forest areas, but it would be best to start securing the houses nearby first before venturing there. In this case, he only had two neighbors in this particularly area, so that was going to be a cinch.

  He placed the dishes in the dishwasher, then decided that dessert would be a good idea right now. A light turned on in front of the kitchen window beside his sink. Erik looked up.

  He froze.

  The polite woman from earlier was now in his field of vision—clearly so. She’d turned on the lights in her kitchen, where a wide window gave him a view of her going to the fridge to pour herself a glass of white wine.

  But that wasn’t the only thing she was doing.

  Erik watched as the woman drank the wine in one huge gulp, then took out the bottle again and started drinking from there. Two gulps, before she placed it back.

  He watched as she began removing her dress, right there in plain view, shimmying it down until he was treated to the sight of creamy skin, a perky butt and a handful of breasts encased in tight, tight underwear. Her hands went to remove her hair from its chignon, and brown hair cascaded down her slender shoulders. He could see her face—not gorgeous, but arresting enough to catch his attention as he took in her long lashes and dark-colored eyes.

  Pink lips made for kissing.

  Then the woman turned around and bent over to pick up something she’d dropped.

  And what had been passing interest for Erik suddenly shifted to full blown desire.

  He imagined that ass on his hands, where he molded them as he pressed his front against her back and kissed that soft-looking spot at the nape of her neck. Then he imagined sucking on it before he turned her around to face him and kissed her mouth instead, her soft moan urging him on as he began sliding her underwear off. Then his fingers would be there, slipping inside her. Then his fingers would be replaced by his cock as he thrust inside her wet heat…

  The fantasy was so vivid, Erik had to take a physical step back as he felt his blood pound and his erection strain against his pants. Then he reined in his control, telling himself to get a grip. This wasn’t the time to be a horny bastard, not when he had a job to do.

  But Jesus, it had been a few months since he’d last slept with a woman.

  Still, this was wrong. He shouldn’t be peeping on an innocent woman, because that just made him an asshole.

  He glanced through her kitchen once more, and to his relief, she was no longer there. But where were her curtains? Why were her windows all open?

  And why the hell was she undressing just for anyone out there to see?

  Arousal changed to irritation. Erik shook his head, deciding it was none of his business—for about five minutes.

  What if her desperate date came back and did more than look?

  Erik growled at the thought. Then he was marching out of his house and striding towards hers before he could even think about it.

  Someone needed to be lectured about the importance of safety and not undressing for the world to see.

  CHAPTER TWO

  That had to be one of the worst dates of her life.

  Charlotte tried not to let the frustration of the night get to her as she went to her bedroom to don a robe before going back to the kitchen. She took out ingredients from her cupboards, intent on baking some gooey brownies and drinking wine for the rest of the night.

  The evening had started pretty well. George had been nice and well-educated, and they got along well chatting over dinner. But then he started to hint about after dinner, and maybe she’d have considered it—if he had allowed the first date to stay as it was and asked her out for a second one.

  But no. Nice George turned into persistent George as he insisted that she needed to come to his apartment and see his new stereo. Then persistent George began to turn into desperate George as he then insisted to take her home, where he proceeded to give her a kiss before inviting himself inside for coffee.

  No, thank you.

  And that had to be the most unrequited kiss ever.

  She was done with men for now. None of the guys in town were just worth it anymore—though, if she was to be more honest with herself, perhaps the problem lay with her. It seemed like she couldn’t feel anything with any of the guys she’d gone out with, no matter how charming or
handsome or well-mannered they were. The kiss with George didn’t even feel good—it felt like she was kissing her brother, and Lord knew that wasn’t exciting at all.

  As for sex? Charlotte opened a package of chocolate chips almost viciously. It wasn’t anything home to write about, either.

  She was about to measure all the ingredients when the ding on her bell sounded. She groaned.

  Oh, lord. Did George come back?

  He so was gonna get an ear full.

  Charlotte left the kitchen and stalked towards the front door, glancing down to pull her robe tighter around her. She pasted another polite smile on her face and opened her mouth at the same time, intent on driving him away.

  “George, you really ought to go home, I’m really lacking sleep and…”

  Her voice trailed off when she finally absorbed the sight in front of her.

  It was a man she didn’t know—a vision of a man, to be exact, with a body that looked hard and unrelenting and a face that was equal parts gorgeous and striking. Muscles were obvious on the thighs encased in blue jeans, and under the plain white shirt he wore. There were also tattoos there, swirling just underneath his short sleeves, and it made her itch to touch.

  What a visual, appealing body.

  Then Charlotte got to perusing his face again, where she was treated to the sight of a firm, sensuous mouth, a well-defined jaw, a head of black hair, and eyes that were a deep, smoky gray.

  Oh, God. And she thought he was George. And she—

  “You really ought to buy some curtains.”

  Charlotte blinked, her thoughts interrupted.

  “I’m sorry?”

  It was then that she noticed that his eyes were doing the same perusal as well—only the way he did his felt like he was undressing her with his eyes, and her body reacted almost like...it liked it. Heat shot in her stomach, unbidden.

  “You’re proudly displaying all your assets to all the perverts out there.”

 

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