Illicit Passions

by Crystal Jordan

  Then he dropped his hand between them and thumbed her clit. “Come for me, honey.”

  She could do nothing else. Goosebumps broke down her limbs as climax crashed over her in a wild rush of sensation. He fucked her hard, his hands gripping her thighs to hold her in place as he hammered deep. She exploded again, a broken cry ripping from her. Her pussy fisted around his dick again and again until she felt lightheaded and giddy with the pleasure of it.

  Still, they kept the eye contact and she saw the moment orgasm took him. His gaze lost focus, and great shudders racked his big body. His hot fluids pumped into her, his claw-tipped fingers digging into her flesh as he rode her through his climax. They were shaking when it was done, the experience even more powerful than the ones they’d shared before. They may have already marked each other, but this time they’d committed to each other. This time it meant more. His head fell forward and his arms cradled her close. Sweat glued their skin together, but she ignored the slight discomfort.

  She slumped against his chest, breathing hard. He buried his face in her shoulder and cuddled her for long moments. She heard him swallow, and his voice was rough when he spoke. “There were times I was scared I’d never get to do this again. Hold you.”

  “Bastian.” Her heart turned over. The man was usually confidence incarnate. In the days they’d been together, he’d always been one step ahead of her, so accepting of their mating, their love. So certain of their future. “I was scared too.”

  “You?” His fingers drifted down her spine. “Why?”

  She turned her nose into his hair and breathed in his scent. “I was scared I couldn’t be what you needed. That we’d make each other miserable just by being who we are. In private, we fit so well, but you have a very public life.”

  “For now.” He pulled back and looked at her, his gaze fierce. “Don’t ever leave me again, Tori. Ever.”

  “I couldn’t.” She’d barely managed it this time. She might have to kick his ass occasionally if he got a little too Alpha on her, but she didn’t think she could leave. She loved him too fucking much.

  “I’m glad.” His embrace tightened, crushing the breath out of her. “I’ve been dying without you, but I couldn’t get away sooner. Things are still too unstable for me to be gone long.”

  “I know.” She ran a soothing hand down his back. “Meetings with the president, protecting shifter rights. I’ve been glued to the news keeping tabs on you.”

  His laugh was little more than a huff of air. “All you had to do was call. Email. Send up a smoke signal. Anything. I would have answered.”

  “I was too mad.” Too busy going over every nanosecond of her abduction, second-guessing every move, playing the blame game that nobody won. Least of all her.

  His fingers squeezed the back of her neck. “Forgive me. Forgive yourself.”

  “I don’t think I can ever forgive your father or Hector.”

  “That’s okay.” He hesitated. “You may have to tolerate Dad during the occasional family visit though. Maybe Hector too, if we’re visiting Celeste and Lyra. He’s gone back to Arizona.”

  She flicked her hand dismissively. “Lots of people have in-laws they don’t like. I’ll deal.”

  He crooked a finger under her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. “You’re an amazing woman.”

  Her nose wrinkled as she made a face. “If I were that amazing, I wouldn’t have gotten kidnapped in the first place.”

  “Stop that,” he ordered gently. “If it hadn’t been you, it would have been someone else. Maybe a child who couldn’t have escaped. The blame rests on Hector’s and Michael’s shoulders. No one forced them to betray their kind. The blame rests on Powell’s and Hastings’s shoulders. No one made them abduct you. You have nothing to feel bad about. You made the best decisions you could under bad circumstances. That’s all anyone can expect. They can agree or disagree, but they weren’t there and can never really know what they would have done in the same situation. We can only move forward from here.”

  He was right. It was going to take some time to internalize it though. But it would be easier with him around to remind her, to understand what she’d been through and why she felt the way she did. Then again, considering what he’d said about feeling ashamed of himself for not saving her, he might need some reminders occasionally too. She gave him a wry smile. “How’d you get so smart?”

  His smile was sardonic. “I had a good teacher—my dad—even if I’m still unhappy with him. He did what he thought was right.”

  “I can’t understand why he thought exposing us was the right thing.”

  “Me neither, but to his mind, it was.”

  She sighed. “Now we just pick up the pieces he left behind.”

  “Yep.” His broad shoulder lifted in a shrug.

  “Five years.” She nodded. “Longer if I can handle it.”

  He swept a hand through her hair, his expression tender. “I’m in if you are.”

  “As long as you’re with me, I’m all in.” Everything inside her settled, all the bullshit and worry fading. She’d spent so much time stressed that Bastian’s job would change her that she hadn’t recognized how much their love had already changed her. For the better, she thought. They were both strong, hardheaded people, but they’d learned to bend. Compromise was part of relationships, and knowing she wasn’t trapped as the clan leader’s mate forever would go a long way toward helping her cope with whatever problems came because of it. She had an out, if she wanted it. She’d have the career of her choosing, and he’d have her back if anyone ever challenged her for that choice. He’d made sure she had what she needed, which was all she could ever ask for.

  He hadn’t tried to cage her—he’d given her space to fly.

  About the Author

  Crystal Jordan began writing romance after she finished graduate school and needed something to fill the hours that used to be eaten away by homework. Currently, she serves as a librarian at a university in California, but has lived and worked all over the United States. She writes contemporary, paranormal, futuristic and erotic romance.

  To learn more about Crystal please visit www.crystaljordan.com. Send an email to Crystal at crystal@crystaljordan.com or join her mailing list to get updates about Crystal’s contests and new books! www.crystaljordan.com/newsletter.

  Look for these titles by Crystal Jordan

  Now Available:

  Edge of Night

  Demon’s Caress

  Wasteland: The Wanderer

  Treasured

  Forbidden Passions

  Stolen Passions

  Fleeting Passions

  Unbelievable

  If You Believe

  Believe in Me

  Make Me Believe

  In the Heat of the Night

  Total Eclipse of the Heart

  Big Girls Don’t Die

  It’s Raining Men

  Crazy Little Thing Called Love

  Destination: Desire

  Vegas Vacation

  Hawaiian Holiday

  Coming Soon:

  Italian Interlude

  Roman Reunion

  Alaskan Adventure

  Passion and danger awaken in the dark…

  Edge of Night

  © 2013 Crystal Jordan

  The Night, Book 3

  Like most humans, Erin was totally in the dark about the hocus pocus going on around her, until she learned a hairy little secret—her aunt and her new husband were both werewolves.

  To say family politics got complicated is an understatement, especially when she dated and broke up with a vampire. She has no plans to get involved again with anyone anytime soon, but hey, a girl has to scratch an itch every now and then.

  FBI agent Luca Cavalli doesn’t mind Erin’s occasional booty call. He’s not looking for commitment, either. Plus, her family would be none too pleased to learn she’s seeing another vampire.

  But when a stalker starts making Erin’s life hell, memories of other w
omen Luca’s loved and lost punch him in the gut. She’s in danger and he’s determined to provide her with protection that’s as up close and personal as it gets…

  Warning: Stalkers and werewolves, vampires and gun-toting FBI agents out for vengeance. Vampire-on-human naughtiness in every imaginable position—front door, back door, tied up, upside down, and sideways. A little orgasmic biting just makes it that much better.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Edge of Night:

  Someone was watching her.

  Awareness prickled along Erin’s nerves and made the hair rise on the back of her neck. She froze, her breath stopping as her gaze darted around the empty restaurant. Cold sweat broke out on her forehead. She’d watched the last of her employees leave ten minutes ago, and no one had come in since, but she could feel eyes on her. Staring. Boring into her skin.

  It wasn’t the first time she’d had this feeling recently.

  She needed to get the hell out of here. Her purse, with her car keys, was in the kitchen, so she hurried in that direction, hoping the sense of being watched, cornered like prey, would fade as she went. It didn’t. When she reached the threshold of the kitchen—normally her domain as the chef—she hesitated, glancing around again. Had someone managed to hide in there? She swallowed, swiping her clammy palms on her pants. There was a wooden stand with her knives to the left, and she grabbed the closest one.

  Not bothering to strip out of her chef’s jacket as she normally would have, she scooped up her purse and scurried down the long galley kitchen toward the back door. Ten more feet left…five…a few more steps and she’d escape. A clattering explosion of sound erupted just behind her and she whirled and screamed, the knife raised to fend off her attacker.

  A massive orange tabby cat hissed and spit, leaping over the soup pot he’d overturned. In the process, he careened into a stack of freshly-washed muffin tins, scattering them across the counter. He looked at her, blinked. “Meow.”

  “Balthasar,” she said faintly.

  Her heart slammed against her ribcage and she sucked in a breath. Adrenaline still pumped through her system, making her hands quake. She dropped the knife onto the countertop and bent over to brace her hands against her knees. “Jesus.”

  Just a cat, Erin. Nothing to freak out about. She shook her head. Letting the air ease out of her lungs, she straightened and found the big tabby had parked himself on the counter nearest her, purring as if scaring the shit out of her was no big deal. Sighing, she rubbed his back. “Sorry, kitty, the kitchen is closed for the night. No scraps for you.”

  His whiskers drooped pathetically, as if she’d stolen his will to live.

  “Besides, you made a mess.” She gestured with the hand holding her purse.

  Looking over his shoulder, he flicked his ears at the offending cookware, which rose in the air for a moment before settling back into its former order. Goose bumps shivered across her skin, the only indication she, a Normal, would have that magic was occurring. Erin arched her eyebrows at the cat. “Impressive.”

  His purr revved, and he bumped her fingers with his head, indicating that she should pet him for his efforts. She snorted and picked up the familiar to cuddle him close. He didn’t belong to her. Magickal animals didn’t attach themselves to non-Magickal people, but she knew his owner well. She’d been sleeping with him off and on for almost a year. The booty-call arrangement worked well for both of them. Lately, though, the man’s familiar had been making himself at home in Erin’s restaurants and condo. How Balthasar got inside them, she never knew. The security systems she had in place had been installed by Magickals, and they used magic and technology to ward off uninvited visitors. Her security systems should keep the cat out, but they didn’t.

  Maybe all the creepy, being-watched feelings lately had come from Balthasar. The sensation had stopped now that the cat had popped up. She didn’t know though. The stare had felt more…malevolent…than she thought the familiar could ever manage. Maybe she was just being paranoid. Nothing had ever come of the feeling—no one had ever approached her or jumped out from behind a dumpster. No boogiemen in the dark.

  Perhaps she just needed more sleep. Blowing out a breath, she gave Balthasar a last cuddle and then set him on the floor. “Time to lock up. Behave and I might have a treat for you at my house.”

  The cat made a little chirrup of interest, darted ahead of her and sat by the door. She set the alarm on her security system, then ushered Balthasar out and turned to lock the door behind them.

  “Nice night out.”

  She jolted at the voice that sounded directly behind her. But she knew that voice. Relief crashed over her just as suddenly as the terror had—a rollercoaster that left her head spinning. Her hand clamped tight on her keys, trying not to let them betray the shudder that ran through her. When she knew her expression wouldn’t give her emotions away, she finished locking the door and turned around.

  “Hey, Luca.” A thought occurred to her. Had Luca been watching her? Maybe through a window? No, his gaze would definitely feel more naughty than malevolent. Still, she had to ask. “How long have you been waiting for me?”

  “I just got here. Your timing is perfect.”

  Balthasar wound his way around his owner’s ankles, getting cat fur all over the expensive-looking suit. Luca glowered down at his familiar, flashing a bit of vampiric fang when his lip curled in disgust. His familiar didn’t appear impressed, so Luca shook his head and sighed. “Really? Must you shed all over the Armani?”

  The cat’s eyes widened in an innocent look that didn’t fool anyone.

  “Your accent gets thicker when you’re annoyed.” Erin dropped her keys into her purse. Though she knew Luca was originally from Italy, his accent was faint enough that it was difficult to tell. Unless he was irritated. Or passionate. She had no idea how long he’d been in America or even how old he was. He could be forty or four hundred, and she wouldn’t be able to tell. Magickals tended to stop aging somewhere in their thirties and stayed that way for five hundred years before they croaked. That kind of lifespan still boggled her mind, but she’d only known about magic of any kind for a handful of years, so there was a lot she didn’t know and even more she didn’t quite understand.

  Her Aunt Angela had married a werewolf, Darren Kerr, and he’d Changed her into a wolf too. But it was all one massive secret—Magickals were as far in the closet as they could get. They had to receive approval from the All-Magickal Council to tell anyone about the existence of magic. Angela and Darren had been married for decades and Erin hadn’t known a thing about their big hairy secret. It wasn’t until she’d moved to Seattle and opened a restaurant with Darren’s other niece, Holly, that they’d gotten permission to clue her in.

  “You can take the man out of Italy, but you can never take Italy out of the man.” Luca glanced up and snared her with his gaze. A little grin kicked up one corner of his full lips. “I came to see if you were available for the evening.”

  “They have this invention now, you know. It’s called a cell phone.”

  “True.” He stepped closer, ducking down until their eyes were level. Almost close enough to kiss. His breath brushed over her lips when he spoke. “But I find I get better results in person. If I’d called, you might have said you’d had a long day and were too tired to see me.” The tips of his fingers grazed the curve of her hip, and her breath hitched in reaction. Even so simple a touch could make her body begin to ready itself for more. “It’s harder to say no to someone standing right in front of you.”

  He was being presumptuous, but that didn’t mean he was wrong. Her pulse sped, heat flowing inside her like liquid fire. She wanted him. Always. She could pretend to be pissy, but as a vampire, he’d be able to tell her heart-rate and body temperature had elevated. As a regular person, she was at a disadvantage most of time, but she didn’t have to let that stop her from winning. Holding his gaze, she reached out to cup his cock through his trousers. He choked, sucking in a shocked breath as her fin
gers traced the outline of his shaft. A low hiss burst from his throat, his fangs baring as he thrust his hips forward to increase the contact.

  She felt him lengthen by the second and lust tightened his features. In the harsh light of the parking lot, she could see his face flush. Making him respond for her was a rush—it always had been. The man was powerful in every sense of the word—rich, well-connected, Magickal, an FBI agent with all the authority that came with it—and there were times when she could make him beg for her. It damn near made her purr.

  Her grip tightened on the rigid arc of his dick, and she rolled her thumb over the head where a bit of precome had seeped through his pants. “You’re right. It’s so hard to say no to someone standing in front of you.”

  “Your place is closer than mine.” His voice dropped to a low, dangerous growl. “Let’s go or I will take you against the door. Now.”

  No one can outfly the speed of fate.

  Secret Passions

  © 2013 Loribelle Hunt

  Forbidden Passions, Book 5

  Though Sara Beth Reynard shuns the spotlight, her sensual animal nature always draws unwanted attention. On the rare occasions she leaves fox territory to supervise a construction project, humans are her number one hassle.

  When the discovery of human/animal DNA makes her a sleazy tabloid’s lead story, Sara finds the whole thing laughable. Right up until some goon attempts to kidnap her. Worse, her alpha sends her to the wereeagles, clan of her childhood nemesis, for help.