by Eve Langlais
I found myself teetering on the edge of the plank, counting fins. The damned sharks wouldn’t stop moving though, meaning my ballpark of fifty might be a little high. Or low. I couldn’t really tell.
“Oz!” Jane yelled my name.
“Don’t worry. I got this.” How bad could wrestling sharks be? And I’d have help.
I heard Jellia say in the background, “Someone hold my sunglasses.” The equivalent of a beer.
“You are not walking the plank, Oz. Do you hear me, Daddy? Oz is…” Jane’s voice trailed off. “What is that in your hand? Is that my locket? Hand it over.”
I peered over my shoulder to see her hand outstretched, beckoning.
Davey tucked it behind his back. “You know I can’t do that. Your mother would kill me.”
“Don’t involve me in this. This fiasco was your idea.” A wave rose on Theodore’s left and deposited a woman on deck. Given her resemblance to Jane, it didn’t take much to guess that I was meeting Mrs. Davey.
“We both know he’s not the man for her. This,”—Davey shook the locket—“will lead her to the right man.”
“I don’t want it to.” Jane stamped her foot. “Give it so I can break the spell.”
“No.” Davey tucked his other hand behind his back and held the locket tight. “I’ll find another pirate to give it to. A less drunk one this time.”
Jane screeched. “Don’t you dare!”
“Enough of this.” Jane’s mother swept close to the pirate and held out her hand. “Give it.”
“I swear, I know a better pirate. Handsome. Still alive. Has his own boat.”
Mrs. Davey’s fingers waggled.
The dreaded pirate sighed as he held out the chain, the locket on it spinning, in front of more than a few cats.
Jinjur, Jellia, my mother, and a few others who crowded close to the spectacle tracked it. Back and forth. Dangle. Twist.
Swat. No surprise, a few paws batted at the shiny thing, knocking it from the pirate’s grip.
It fell, right into the midst of the churning fins.
Only one thing to do.
I jumped in after it.
16
Jane: The things I do for love.
For a moment, after the idiot had jumped, there was stunned silence. Then a flurry of clothes flying and bodies leaping for the rail. There went Oz’s sisters, his mother, and who I assumed were other family members after him, turning the waters into a chaotic mess.
I glared at my dad. “Are you happy now?”
“That depends. Are you mad?” My dad sidled closer to the edge, his nervous sweat keeping him damp.
“You made my boyfriend walk the plank.”
“It should be noted that he jumped of his own volition.”
Doubtful. I was more convinced than ever that the locket was having an effect on Oz.
“Take note of the fact, Daddy,” I said his name with a snarl, “that I’m going after him.”
Despite knowing that I might die and get stuck with my parents, I jumped. Straight-bodied, I plummeted down, closing my eyes to the churn below me. The hooting. The hollering. The splashing. The…shark that hit me midair and tumbled me upside down.
I hit the water with my mouth open and swallowed some. The problem with coughing? I couldn’t catch a breath. Too much ocean.
My lungs tightened. Fear rose in me. Annoyance, too.
Drowning really wasn’t what I had planned, and I was feeling pretty testy at the moment. Not to mention, I was in my element. The seat of my daddy’s power. It meant this princess of DJ’s Locker wasn’t without some skills.
I swirled my finger in the water and pushed some magic into the motion. Pushed and pushed, widening the swirl, the water spiraling with it, turning into a reverse cyclone made of water and fury.
Kind of satisfying on a primal, visceral level.
As the water spun, it caught the cruise line passengers and sharks alike, sending them spinning. Every now and then, a head popped out for an excited scream of, “Yeehaw!” or a less than pleased, “I’m gonna puke!” Then some shrieks when someone did.
The maelstrom kept churning until it reached the bottom of the ocean and cleared the water from the ship sunken there.
The Sweet Jeanine. Named after my mom. My parents’ home. I stood on the weathered deck, ignoring the flopping fish and gasping coral. Noticed some engravings done in metal and kept tarnish free on the wall leading to the cabin. Images of me. And Mom. My family.
Aw, how cute.
But distracting. I glanced back at the whirlpool and noticed that I had some help.
People began to pop free of the wall of water, and an arm of liquid carried them back to the Sushi Lover. All of the passengers were rescued, courtesy of my mother, while I concentrated on Oz.
Unlike the others, he still played with the sharks, coasting to the ones caught in the spin, wrestling them, and then wrenching their mouths open before shoving his fist inside. Not finding what he wanted, he’d then heave the shark from the whirlpool and head for another.
I knew what he looked for.
And when he found it, he kicked free of the spinning vortex and landed with knees bent on the deck of my parents’ ship. He stood, and the damned locket dangled from his fist.
He smiled wider than the kitty in Wonderland. Smugger than the one who got into the cream.
“Oh, Jane,” he crooned. “Look what I found.”
I saw it, the necklace dangling from his grip, the spell obviously working its magic on him despite his shifter heritage. But I ignored it in that moment to admire the crazy bastard who’d jumped off a ship into a pile of sharks to wrestle them to find it.
There was no surprise that Oz swept me into a distracting kiss. Potent enough that I began to lose my grip on the magic and water rushed in. It smothered us, and I retained enough sense to propel us to the surface where we burst free of the water, hugging each other, our lips meshed, our temperatures rising. We landed on the deck of the cruise ship where there was hushed silence and then a roar as people cheered.
Not everyone was happy. When I finally broke the kiss, it was to see my father glowering. “I can’t believe you went after him.”
“What did you expect?”
“That you’d remember who you are.”
A woman in love? I was well aware. And, apparently, I wasn’t the only one annoyed that everyone kept telling us to stay apart.
Oz growled. “I swear, the next person who says we can’t be together is getting his face chewed off.”
“You tell them, Ozzie,” Jinjur hollered. “You’re a king. No one can boss you around.”
A king? I eyed Oz. “What’s she talking about? Is this like the whole lions are king of the jungle thing or…?”
Jinjur giggled. “More like he’s king of the South Coast pride.”
“He presides over the bottom ten states including Texas,” his mother announced with pleasure.
I felt faint. “You can’t be a king.”
“King and a, like, billionaire. He paid for the entire wedding,” Jellia announced.
“You’re rich, too?” I shopped the bargains whenever I went out.
“It’s not a big deal,” Oz muttered.
Yet, it was. He was a person of import. A big deal. Oh, damn. Wouldn’t you know, all of a sudden, my daddy was singing a different tune.
“Southern states, eh? They’ve got some nice beaches.”
“Indeed, they do. I own a house in east Texas along the shore. With a pier that goes out to some fairly deep water.”
As my father suddenly found interest in Oz, I retreated, only to be stopped by Jellia. “I can’t believe he called it a house. More like a castle.” His sister snickered.
“I can’t live in a castle.” I was used to living in cozy spaces. To a cramped kitchen where I bumped hips with Grandma when she cooked. A small couch perfect for sharing a cozy blanket while mocking episodes of Sabrina the Teenage Witch. A castle…would we even share the same
bedroom, or be on opposite ends of the dwelling? Panic filled me.
As if sensing my unease, Oz turned his attention on me. “You can choose from any of the properties.”
“You own more than one home?”
“If you don’t like any of them, then we’ll buy a few more.”
The casualness had me almost hyperventilating as I panicked.
Good thing Mother was there to whisper, “They’re just things. It’s who you’re with that counts most.”
She had a point. Did I care about rank and wealth if I got to be with Oz?
He chose that moment to smile at me, teeth gleaming. His hair was slick and sexy, framing his face.
The locket hung around his neck.
Which was probably why he said to my dad, “Sir, I’ll probably never get a better chance to ask permission for your daughter’s hand.”
It took my dad being elbowed by my mother before he said, “I guess you can marry her.”
The spell had worked. I was engaged.
I fainted.
17
Oz: Who’s got the pretty shiny? I got the pretty shiny.
Jane never hit the deck because I caught her.
But her father panicked. “What’s wrong with her? Janey! Speak to your daddy. Fix her, wench!”
“Nothing to fix,” soothed Mrs. Davey. “She’s just overwhelmed. Which is to be expected after everything that’s happened.”
“Who can I kill to fix this?” Expression full of thunderclouds, Theodore squinted at the passengers, who chose that moment to leave. Quickly. Some at a run.
“There’s no one to kill. Jane just needs a bit of peace and quiet. We should get going. Leave Jane alone with her suitor.”
“Just because he’s got the locket doesn’t give him any rights. They’re not married yet.” The squint turned in my direction.
“Ozmodeus isn’t going to do anything that Jane doesn’t want.”
“Not reassuring, wench.” Whistled through a tight jaw.
Meanwhile, I was fascinated. My father had died at a young age. I’d never gotten to see this kind of repartee between married couples. “I can assure you, sir, that I have nothing but the utmost respect and admiration for Jane.”
Davey turned to his wife and, in a loud whisper said, “He called me sir again. I think I like it.” Formidable beetled brows turned in my direction. “No fornication until marriage.”
Yeah, that wasn’t happening. A nugget I kept to myself since my future father-in-law still held his sword.
“I’ll take good care of Jane.” With a nod at them, and a smile at the wink Mrs. Davey tossed at me, I left with Jane, only to find myself mobbed once I got inside the ship. Everyone had something to say.
“Holy shit, we’re going to have a pirate in the family!” Jinjur clapped her hands and bounced.
“I could have married a buccaneer,” my mother sniffed.
Whereas Jellia arched a brow. “Should I say congratulations?”
“Do you want me to die?” I might plan on mating Jane tonight, but being a man who wanted to keep his head, I’d keep it on the down low until we could do a proper ceremony for her father. He seemed like the type who’d want to walk his daughter down the aisle.
Which meant another wedding cruise. The very idea made me want to groan. Until I looked down at the bundle in my arms.
Worth it.
Given my well-meaning family wouldn’t shut up, I finally had to roar at them and stalk through the hush that followed.
“Just like his father,” whispered someone.
“A great king,” sighed another.
“Until the safari.”
My dad had seen a giant bird and went to play with it. Drunk. The ostrich won.
Escaping them all, I noticed that the ship had started moving again, sailing us out of the pirate’s reach even as I carried Jane to my bed. I placed her upon the tightly made sheets and then stared at her.
Kept staring.
It didn’t take long before she whispered, “Are they all gone?”
“Yes.”
“Thank God.” She groaned and rolled over, burying her face in a pillow. “I’m sorry. That was such a mess.”
“It’s actually not that bad. You forget who you’re talking to. In a lion household, drama is a daily thing.”
“I grew up with drama. It’s exhausting. I miss my parents, but I have to say it’s nice to not come home to Dad bellowing that the postman was staring at Mom. Or wondering if he was going to chase off the boy I was tutoring.” Even as Jane made these intimate admissions, she wouldn’t look at me.
“My mother used to sic my sisters onto my girlfriends.”
“Scary.”
“No kidding. Although, you don’t seem the type to be easily intimidated. And I’ll be by your side, helping to handle the drama thrown at us by our families.” Reaching, I turned her over. Her bright eyes showed uncertainty.
“What’s wrong?” I rubbed her lower lip with my thumb.
“You’re a king.”
“Yup.”
“I’m not even close to being royalty.”
“I wouldn’t say that. Your father is some kind of big shot at sea.” I smiled at her, and yet she still appeared troubled.
She reached out to touch the locket on my chest. “I can’t believe you went after it.”
“Only way to make sure I stopped the competition. I love you, Jane.”
For some reason, that only seemed to make her sadder.
“This is where you say, ‘I love you too, Oz, you big, wonderful lion.’”
“I do.”
“I hear a but…”
“We come from different worlds.”
“Which is what makes you perfect.” Before she could argue some more, I reminded her how things could be between us by kissing her.
She melted for only a moment before pushing at me. “This isn’t what you really want.”
“I beg to differ.” I moved atop her, letting her feel the evidence of my desire.
“Oh, Oz.” The way she sighed my name had me kissing her again. And this time, I didn’t give a damn how hard the boat rocked, I wasn’t stopping until I’d made Jane mine.
I wasted no time removing the maddening outfit she wore, the long skirt stripped to reveal her legs and the frothy lace panties underneath. The blouse went next, and I made a sound as I saw that she wore nothing over her breasts.
They peeked at me, brazen and tempting. I had no willpower or resistance. I pounced.
The swirl of my tongue across her nipple drew forth a cry from her. A sound that brought a rumble from me.
I scraped the flat edge of my teeth across the tip and then gave it a little bite.
That got my hair tugged. And then almost yanked when I sucked her breasts into my mouth, one by one, pulling and sucking on her flesh. I could gauge her enjoyment by the dig of her nails on my scalp.
The tiny bit of pain only aroused me more. She loved my touch, and I loved the taste of her, so I kept teasing her nipples, switching back and forth between them as she moaned.
The scent of her arousal surrounded me. Sweet honey waiting for a lick. I blazed a trail with my lips and tongue down her body to the pucker of her navel. My bristled jaw stroked against her skin, and a shiver went through her.
She’d be doing more than that before I was done.
My lips kept stroking, a feather-light touch that brought me to a thigh in need of a nibble.
She gasped and giggled.
Unexpectedly ticklish. For some reason, that elated me. I rubbed my unshaven jaw against her next and nipped at her some more, but things turned serious when I chose to stare at her sex. The pink flesh beckoned, her honey making it glisten.
“Pull up your legs,” I whispered, blowing the words onto her mound.
Her legs were already spread, but she pulled them up, bending her knees, exposing herself to me.
For me.
I leaned forward and just breathed, the hot air ca
using her to shiver. The enticing scent of her arousal surrounded me. I needed a taste. I licked her, the decadence of it making me rumble with enjoyment, pleasure she shared.
She sighed my name again. “Oz.”
Parting her petals, I lapped and stabbed my tongue into her heat. I could feel her getting close to climax, and I wanted to experience it.
My fingers took the place of my tongue, a pair to stretch her. Hot. Tight. I kept lapping at her sensitive button, teasing it well enough that she gasped and squeezed the thrusting fingers.
When I grabbed her clit with my lips and tugged, her whole body arched off the bed. Her orgasm hit with a hard clamp on my fingers, and I exulted in the waves that pulsed through her body.
But we weren’t done yet. I kept thrusting my fingers in, stroking her, making sure to draw out her orgasm, building her to the point where she was panting my name again.
I positioned myself between her legs, the tip of my throbbing cock pressing against her, feeling the heat. I held myself there and whispered, “Jane. Look at me.”
Her eyes opened, and she looked upon me, her expression soft, her lips parted.
With our gazes locked, I thrust into her, into that decadent heat. Felt myself fisted by her tight channel.
“I want to stay like this forever,” I groaned, holding myself still inside of her, my love for this woman consuming me.
“Forever would be perfect,” was her sighed reply.
“Are you sure?” I insisted, nudging just a little with my hips. “We lions tend to mate for life.”
“Yes. Yes.”
Which was the reply I’d been waiting for.
Even though she gasped and dug her heels into my back, she held my stare, kept it as I began to move inside her. I slammed myself deep—so deep—and ground myself into her, teasing that spot within, the one that triggered her second orgasm.
“Oz.” She let go and climaxed, whereas I held on just a bit longer, thrusting in and out, drawing out her pleasure before diving in for a kiss and one last deep stroke.