Trauma Alert

by Radclyffe

  “Ali, I need you naked.” Beau gripped Ali’s hips and backed her toward the bed. “Please, I need you to touch me so bad.”

  “Pants,” Ali growled, yanking at Beau’s cargo pants.

  Beau shoved her pants down and Ali hastily stripped. Beau grabbed her and they tumbled onto the bed in a tangle of arms and legs. When Ali’s thigh slotted between hers, the sensation was the most exciting and the most comforting she’d ever experienced. Like almost coming, and coming home all at once. Beau buried her face in the curve of Ali’s neck, cleaving to her, struggling to get every inch of her body close to her.

  “Oh God, I love you.” Beau shuddered, her breath escaping in ragged gasps.

  “Hey, hey, sweetheart,” Ali murmured, tracing the tight muscles in Beau’s back. “It’s all right. I’m right here.”

  “I need you,” Beau whispered. “So much.”

  “I need you too.” Ali kissed her forehead, her eyelids, her mouth. She caressed her broad shoulders, the soft curve of her waist, the hard rise of her ass. When she slipped into her mouth, Beau groaned and twisted against her. Beau’s need ignited her like a torch to gasoline, and she rolled Beau over onto her back. Rising above her, Ali drove her hips down between Beau’s legs. “Do you want me?”

  “Oh Christ, yes.” Beau gripped Ali’s shoulders and rose to meet each downward thrust. “You’re going to make me come. Fuck, I need you to make me come.”

  “Not until you tell me something first,” Ali said, biting off each word as her orgasm boiled closer and closer to the surface. She wouldn’t come. She wouldn’t. Not yet. “Tell me, Beau.”

  “I love you.” Beau arched, her eyes losing focus. “Oh God, Ali. I love you.”

  Ali dipped her head and captured a nipple in her mouth, tugging with her lips. Beau whimpered and Ali licked the spot she’d tormented. “Tell me you’re mine.”

  “I’m gonna come,” Beau exclaimed.

  “No. You’re. Not.” Ali yanked herself up and hovered just out of reach, refusing to let Beau make contact. She sucked her nipples, raked her teeth over her throat, licked her neck. “Tell me.”

  “I’m yours. All yours. I love you.” Beau dug her fingers into Ali’s ass and wrapped her legs around her thighs, driving her sex urgently into Ali’s. The first sharp jolt against her clitoris shot her over and she kissed Ali hard as she came.

  Ali didn’t want to come but she couldn’t stop. The pleasure contorting Beau’s face, her shattered cries of shock, the force of her kiss finally broke her. She lost control and for once she didn’t care. She gave herself over to the woman who’d won her trust, who owned her heart, who’d given her, at long last, peace.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Ali woke as she always did, with near-instant awareness of the time and her surroundings. Years of being called from dead sleep to deal with a crisis had honed her mental reflexes. She registered two things simultaneously—her cell phone was ringing and she was about to have a bone-shaking orgasm. Her shoulders jerked off the bed as she reached down to clasp the back of Beau’s head.

  “Oh my God,” Ali moaned, a flash-fire of pleasure racing along her spine and exploding like an incendiary bomb inside her head. Every muscle contracted at once, her fingers clenched in Beau’s hair, and she came for what felt like forever in the inferno that was Beau’s mouth. When she finally slumped back, her limbs splayed bonelessly and she could barely breathe. Distantly, she heard Beau chuckling.

  “What in God’s name did you just do?” Ali asked weakly, groping around until she found Beau’s face cradled against her lower abdomen. She brushed her thumb over Beau’s mouth and smiled when Beau kissed her fingers. “How?”

  “Uh, I think it’s kind of obvious.”

  “Smart-ass.”

  “I woke up and you were still sleeping,” Beau said. “You were so warm and soft and beautiful. I got excited and I thought you might like it. Did you?”

  “Oh no, not at all.” Ali lightly swatted her on the back of the head. “How long were you…there?”

  Beau kissed Ali’s belly and rubbed her cheek back and forth over her skin. “A while. You were already pretty aroused when I started, though.”

  Ali’s legs twitched and a twinge of excitement rolled through her depths. “Was I now. That seems to happen whenever you’re around.”

  “Yeah?” Beau grinned up at her.

  “You know it’s true.” Ali stretched and murmured with pleasure. “I love your mouth.”

  “I love you.” Beau slid up the bed and kissed Ali’s breasts, slowly swirling the tip of her tongue around each nipple. As she worked her way up Ali’s throat to her mouth, she straddled Ali’s thigh. She was wet. Silky hot. Shivering with urgency.

  “Uh-oh. Somebody needs to come.” Ali kneaded the muscles bunched along Beau’s spine until she got to her ass. Then she cupped her, holding her still as she raised her leg between Beau’s.

  Beau groaned against her mouth. “Every time I touch you, every time I see you, I’m ready to explode.”

  Ali tugged on Beau’s lip, tiny teasing nips. She sighed in satisfaction as Beau’s face grew slack with pleasure. She smoothed one hand around Beau’s flank and between their bodies. “Lift up, sweetheart. I want to stroke you.”

  “I’m awfully close, Ali. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I just want to feel you come.” Ali glided her hand between Beau’s legs, dipping her fingertips inside her as Beau rode over her leg in fast, jerky movements. “Oh, that’s nice. So nice.”

  “Fuck.” Beau stiffened, pressing her face to the curve of Ali’s neck. Her breath blew hot across Ali’s throat, her skin blazed, and her passion ran like molten fury over Ali’s fingers.

  “I love you,” Ali whispered, and Beau came with a muffled cry. When Beau’s orgasm waned, she lay soft and pliant in Ali’s arms, so open and trusting Ali’s heart ached. Ali didn’t think she’d ever been so supremely content or so thoroughly satisfied. She curled one calf over the back of Beau’s thigh, locking her in, keeping her close. “I never want to let you go.”

  “I’m never going anywhere.”

  “Promise?”

  “You can count on it.” Beau kissed Ali’s throat. “You can count on me. You’re all I want. All I need.”

  Ali stroked Beau’s damp hair. “I work a lot.”

  Beau chuckled. “So do I. We’ll figure it out.”

  “We will.”

  Beau pushed up on an elbow. “I have a big family. They’ll be nosy. My mother will probably interrogate you since you’ll be the first woman I’ve brought home.”

  “Really. The first? I like that.” Ali kissed Beau’s chin. “I’m not worried about it. I’ll just tell her I’m crazy about you. Like you said, we’ll figure it out.”

  “Speaking of work, I guess you should probably check your phone. I want to make love to you again and I plan on taking my time.” Beau rolled over, snagged Ali’s cell off the bedside table, and handed it to her. “And I don’t want you thinking of anything except me.”

  “Like that’s even possible with you touching me. But I’m second call today,” Ali said, “and I might have to go in. If I don’t, I intend to keep you right here…” She glanced at the readout and sat up quickly. “Damn. It’s Wynter and she’s not on call.”

  Beau switched on the light. 5:10 a.m. She curled her arm around Ali’s shoulders as Ali hit speed dial.

  “Wynter?” Ali said as soon as the call was picked up.

  “No, it’s Pearce. Wynter’s in labor.”

  Ali took Beau’s hand. “How far along? Is she all right?”

  “Contractions are about fifteen minutes apart, but she said she went fast at the end with Ronnie. We’re heading to the hospital now.”

  “I’ll meet you there,” Ali said.

  “Hold on,” Pearce said.

  “Ali?” Wynter came on the line. “Hey. Hi. Sorry I’m going a little early. Did we wake you up?”

  “No, honey. We were awake. I’ll get there as s
oon as I can. Okay?”

  “That would be good. Pearce is kind of a wreck.” Wynter paused. “We? Ooh. Tell me it’s Beau.”

  “It’s Beau,” Ali said, holding Beau’s hand to her breast. “And before you ask, yes, she’s amazing. Yes, I love her. And yes, I told her.”

  “Well. Life sure is getting interesting.” Wynter caught her breath. “I think I better go now. Love you.”

  Ali put the phone aside. “Wynter’s in labor. I’m her backup coach and…I just need to be there.”

  Beau got out of bed and found her pants. “I know. She’s family.”

  “She is.” Ali stood and wrapped her arms around Beau’s neck. “Will you come with me?”

  “Always. Anywhere.” Beau kissed her. “Forever.”

  The Midnight Hunt Synopsis

  Radclyffe writing as L.L. Raand starts a bold new journey with the Midnight Hunt novels

  Medic Drake McKennan has never been good at following protocol, so she doesn’t think twice about rendering emergency care when a teenager’s life is at stake—even if the young girl is in the throes of Were fever and any sane human should know better. It isn’t the bright shining pain of the bite or even the wrenching agonies of the fever that convinces Drake everything in her life has changed. It’s the way she feels about the blonde with the wolf-gold eyes who awakens a dark hunger she can’t control…and doesn’t want to. Sylvan, the Alpha of the Adirondack Timberwolf Pack, is the one female Drake can’t have. And the only one she craves.

  The Midnight Hunt Excerpt

  Sylvan hungered to free her wolf. After three days in the city, encased in a steel-and-glass building fifteen hours at a time with nothing but concrete under her feet at night, she needed to fill her lungs with the scent of warm earth, sweet pine, and rich, verdant life. She needed to run with her wolves and lead them on a kill. The insistent pressure between her thighs and the shimmer of pheromones coating her skin reminded her of another critical need, one not so readily satisfied. She’d gone too long without sexual release, but she couldn’t risk even a rough-and-ready tangle with a willing female when her wolf seemed insistent on claiming a mate. That she would never do.

  Never long on patience, she was edgy and amped on adrenaline and hormones. Even knowing she could be in her Adirondack Mountain compound in thirty minutes didn’t curb her temper while she sat at a desk in the New York State Capitol Annex building listening to a politician patronize her. But she needed to do the job that had fallen to her when she had ascended to Alpha shortly after the Praetern species had stepped out of the shadows for the first time in millennia. As head of the Praetern Coalition representing the interests of the five Praetern species—Weres, Vampires, Mages, Fae, and Psi—she had been charged with convincing the senior senator from New York to push PR-15, the new preternatural protection bill, through his committee.

  “We’d like to bring the bill to a vote this session, Senator,” Sylvan said into the phone, careful not to allow her frustration to bleed into her voice. She spun around to face the view of the Hudson River six blocks away. A breeze through the open windows of the twelfth-floor office carried a teasing hint of the river on a raft of summer heat, reminding her that her imprisonment was only temporary. “The bill has been tabled for the past six months and the Coalition members are asking why.”

  “We all want the same thing, Councilor Mir,” Senator Daniel Weston said, “but we have to remember, this is all very new for the human populace. We have to give the voters a chance to get used to the idea.”

  The senator’s patrician tone grated, and Sylvan growled softly, her right hand tightening on the leather arm of her desk chair. The wood creaked, protesting the crushing pressure, and she consciously relaxed her fingers. No one knew better than she that for some humans, there would never be enough time to accept those who were other as equals. The nonhuman races had hidden their preternatural essence for centuries in order to survive in a world where they were greatly outnumbered. Eventually global culture expanded until isolation was impossible, and the Praeterns learned to hide in the light, forming uneasy coalitions while building a formidable economic power base. Sylvan’s father had finally convinced the Praetern leaders to make their presence known to the world, arguing that the benefits of visibility outweighed the dangers—their corporations could compete openly in international markets, their scientists and doctors would have access to greater research opportunities, those in politics who now had to work behind the scenes could actively advocate for their rights. And most importantly, they could demand protection under the law for future generations.

  Shortly after Antony Mir had spearheaded the Exodus, he had died, leaving Sylvan to assume the mantle of leadership. She had been twenty-six years old, a year out of law school. Her father had been her Alpha, her mentor, her friend, and her greatest champion. She’d had no time to mourn because the Pack needed a leader, especially in the midst of the chaos the Exodus had incited. His absence remained an agonizing void in her heart.

  “Over a year now, Senator—and several million dollars in campaign donations. That’s a long time to wait for basic protection from those who would destroy us for simply being different.” Sylvan couldn’t help but think of her father’s death and how little progress she’d made in achieving security for those whom she had been born to protect and defend. Anguish and fury frayed the last remnants of her temper and a low rumble resonated from deep beneath her breasts. Her skin tingled with the ripple of pelt about to erupt and her claws sliced through her fingertips. Her wolf shimmered so close to the surface that her slate blue eyes, glinting back at her from her reflection in the window glass, sparked with wolf-gold. Her dusty blond hair took on the silver glint of her pelt. Along with the impending shift came an exhilarating surge of power and raw sensuality.

  The door behind her opened and a husky alto voice inquired, “Alpha?”

  Sylvan swiveled to face Niki Kroff, her second and imperator—the head of Pack security. One of Sylvan’s centuri, her personal guards, Niki was also her best friend—they’d grown up together, tussled and played dominance games as adolescents, sparred together as adults. Tonight Niki wore her usual uniform—a formfitting black T-shirt, cargo pants, and lace-up military boots. Her compact muscular form looked hard and battle worthy, despite the soft swell of her full breasts and the luscious fall of thick auburn curls that touched the top of her shoulder blades. Niki had sensed the rise of Sylvan’s wolf, stirring Niki’s instinctive need to guard her Alpha against any distress. Sylvan didn’t find Niki’s sudden appearance in the office an intrusion on her privacy. Pack members had very few physical or emotional boundaries. In fact, Sylvan hated having the centuri stand between her and the rest of the Pack, forcing her into even more isolation than her status as Alpha demanded. But since her father’s death, the Pack would have it no other way. She was too important to them not to be under constant guard.

  “I’m fine,” she sotto-voiced, too low for Weston, who continued to try to placate her with platitudes, to hear. Niki, though, could hear her easily, and after one last searching look, backed out of the room and closed the door. Sylvan reluctantly brought her wolf to heel, promising her freedom soon. Breaking in on Weston’s monologue, she said, “Some of the Coalition leaders are beginning to question if our friends in Washington are really friends at all.”

  “Now now, Councilor,” Weston said almost jovially, “I’m sure you can explain things to the Coalition and your own…uh…followers.”

  “Pack. My Pack,” Sylvan said softly. She wanted to point out, not for the first time, that the Adirondack Timberwolf Pack was not a cult or a religion or a social organization. They were a community, connected physically and psychically. She was their Alpha, their leader, but she was part of them as well. But she was too weary and her wolf was too anxious to roam for her to repeat what she had been explaining publicly for months. “The Mage and the Fae have never been as solidly behind the Exodus as the Weres. I don’t think I have to remind you how
strong a force those two groups are in industry and international commerce. I don’t think you want to lose their support.”

  “Of course not. Of course not. The committee plans to convene within the month, and I assure you this matter will have priority on our agenda.”

  Sylvan could tell she’d gotten as far as she was going to get with him that night. Human politics were fueled by money, and until the money train carrying funds from the Praetern Coalition to Capitol Hill ground to a halt, the laws to protect them would be slow in coming. Hopefully, once humans began to appreciate that Praeterns had lived and worked among them for centuries, and not only performed many essential functions within society, but were their friends and neighbors and, sometimes, even relatives, popular opinion would swing in their direction.

  “I look forward to hearing from you soon, Senator,” Sylvan lied, and put down the phone. Almost ten thirty. Traffic on the Northway would be light this time of night. She couldn’t wait to shed her pale gray linen shirt and tailored black trousers, a necessary concession to her high-profile persona as the head of U.S. Were Affairs. If she and her centuri left now, they’d be home before full moonrise. Running under the moon was her favorite time to hunt—the forest took on a primeval glow and the very air seemed to glitter with moon dust. She preferred to run in moonlight whenever she could, even though most Weres had evolved to the point they no longer needed the pull of the moon to shift. She and her Pack could shift at any time, although she alone could shift instantaneously. Even her most dominant centuri needed a minute or more to accomplish the change. Her singular ability to call her wolf at any time, to shift partially or totally at will, was one of her greatest joys and helped balance the price she paid in loneliness for being the Alpha.