by Mina Carter
Then his body settled over mine. A hard knee pushed my thighs farther apart, leaving me open completely to whatever he wanted to do to me. And there was plenty I wanted him to do to me.
I still had my panties on. I started to pull away to tell him about the tiny jewelled clips that released the side straps. Ripping my uniform was one thing, but I wasn’t having him trash good, expensive underwear. He was way ahead of me, though. Those clever fingers of his slid under the clasps and snapped them open one by one. He pulled the fabric free to drop on the floor.
His lips left mine, and before I could pout at the loss, he was there. Hand between our bodies, he fitted the broad head of his cock against the arousal-slicked entrance to my body. A quick glance up and he snared my gaze more surely than a farmer lamping rabbits. I was caught, hook, line and sinker.
He pushed against me slowly. Already slick and wet, my body parted to accommodate him as he started to enter me. It was a snug fit. I hadn’t touched his cock yet, but he was built on the big side. Certainly big enough to make my eyes widen a little and my pussy ache for more. Yes, I do like a big cock, but we’ve already established I’m a bit of a tart. Besides, what woman doesn’t like a big cock? Especially when the guy it belongs to really knows how to use it.
“God, you’re tight,” he moaned as he pushed again, riding deeper into me with short, sharp thrusts.
“Harder. I won’t break.” My demand was issued on short pants. I didn’t want gentle, not now. I wanted a hard fuck and I knew he was more than capable of delivering it.
His eyes darkened to near black and he nodded. Then the gloves were off. Grabbing my hands, he lifted them above my head and shoved his cock into me fully. Balls against my ass, he ground his pelvis against mine. Thrills shot through me. Very few men are aware of that move, that they could bring a woman to orgasm by trapping the clit between bodies rather than direct stimulation.
Again it looked as though I’d lucked out. He fucked me with powerful thrusts, each time adding a curl of his hips to the end of the stroke. My clit throbbed and my cunt ached. I was getting the fucking of my life and I enjoyed every minute of it.
“Look at me,” he snarled as my eyes started to close. They snapped open as he slammed his cock into me again, harder this time, as though in punishment. I gasped as pleasure bubbled in my veins. If that were punishment, though, I was about to become a serial offender.
He drove into me again and again, my smaller frame stretched out under his. With my hands pinned above my head he had complete control and I didn’t care. I just wanted him to carry on doing what he was doing.
The chords in his neck stood out, and a tiny muscle in the corner of his jaw pulsed as he moved over me. My world was reduced to just the small motel room, this bed and the man in it with me. Everything else, including my view of the room, was blotted out by his broad shoulders. The room was filled with the soft sounds of sex. The slap of skin against skin, soft feminine gasps and deep, male groans of need.
The tension between us rose to fever pitch and all talking, even the small amount we’d been capable of, ceased altogether.
I felt the shudder as it ran through his hard body, and the bunching of his muscles as he fought hard for control. As sense of my own feminine power swept through me. He was young, good-looking…he could have had any young bimbo he wanted, but it was me, me, causing the tremble going through him.
That thought did it for me.
A cry escaped my lips as the hard knot deep within me uncoiled, and then finally burst. Pleasure hit me hard like the onslaught of a tidal wave, and washed all other thoughts away. My body clamped down tight on the thick cock buried deep inside me.
Jasen swore in my ear, his voice halting as my pussy milked him without mercy. He thrust into me again as I rode the waves of ecstasy. But his rhythm was broken, uncoordinated as he slammed into my tight sheath with more force than finesse. Once, twice, and on the third thrust, he buried himself balls deep inside me, letting out a hoarse bellow as he came.
I murmured in pleasure, feeling his cock pulse and jerk within me. He released his hold on my wrists and I wrapped my arms around him tightly. I stroked his hair, murmuring sweet nothings. Sure, this was a one-night stand, but that didn’t mean there couldn’t be any caring. Did it?
We lay entwined, his cock still inside me, for the longest time. I’d begun to wonder if he’d fallen asleep when he finally spoke.
“I shouldn’t have done that.”
Crap. To say my heart hit the deck was an understatement. Heat crawled over every inch of my skin, and not in a good way, as all my insecurities hit me in the same instant. What was I thinking? I was too old, too fat for any young buck like this to find attractive. He’d probably screwed me for a bet or something.
“What the fuck?” I asked sharply.
I started to struggle out of his arms, but he held onto me easily, my strength no match for his.
“Shhh. I didn’t mean ‘not at all’, just not now.”
I went still, wary, as suspicion filled me.
“What do you mean ‘not now’?”
He looked at me with a rueful grin. “That were? I didn’t get it.”
The door crashed open under the weight of a pissed off werewolf as we both rolled from the bed. Butt-naked, Jasen went for the Colt on the floor at the same instant my hand closed around the grip of the Glock on the bedside table. We both started firing, bullets tearing into the werewolf framed in the doorway and shredding the cheap wall behind it.
Sneaking a sideways glance at my lover, I smiled. Screw a one-night stand, I’d just found myself the perfect man.
The End
Tori’s Secret
by Mina Carter
Chapter One
“She’s all right. Not a keeper or anything but she’ll do for a couple of nights in the sack.” The voice of her date filtered around the pseudo-Grecian column and stopped Victoria Bennett, Tori to her friends, in her tracks.
Not expecting a patron to stop so suddenly, the waiter behind her almost ran into Tori’s back. Managing to scoot around her at the last minute he shot her a glare that suggested she was the living personification of all his woes. On a normal day Tori was polite to a fault but today wasn’t a normal day; she just blinked at the guy like an owl as she tried to process what she was hearing.
The hits kept coming. Richard’s chuckle floated around the column.
“Of course she’ll cooperate. Bit of the Cutler charm…liquid panty remover.” He laughed again, a harsh sound Tori had never heard from the handsome executive before. “And if that doesn’t work, then a certain special…”
Tori’s blood started to simmer as Richard lowered his voice. “Yeah, in her drink.
No, don’t worry…no blood test will pick this stuff up. It’s a lust potion. Mate of mine picked it up at one of those paranormal clubs. Says it turns any woman into an animal.
They can’t get enough of it…”
She was going to be sick. Richard planned to drug her. How freaking low could you get?
“Yeah, sure thing. If she’s any good, I’ll give you a call. No, not tonight. Sorry mate, I want my share first. Tomorrow night? Yeah, sounds good. I’ll get her over to mine and we’ll dose her up. Call a couple of the lads around and have ourselves a little party.”
Tori went from simmering to boiling mad in the blink of an eye. He was planning an orgy, was he? She’d see about that! Her spine straightened and Tori walked around the column with her head held high.
Richard was still on his cell. His lips curved into a smile as he smoothly changed the subject. “Yeah, thanks for that, James. If you could send the Delaney tender over and I’ll review it tomorrow. Cheers, mate, you too. Oh, before I forget…”
Plastering a sickly sweet smile on her face, Tori sidled up and pressed close to wrap an arm around him. With her free hand she reached for her drink. Richard started a little in surprise but recovered well and quickly covered her hand with his own, shooting her
a smile as he carried on his call.
“Richard…” Tori breathed against the side of his neck, whispering a kiss across the sensitive skin of his neck.
“Hmmm?” He flipped the phone shut.
“You know the thing about lust potions?” She pulled away as she twisted her wrist and dumped her drink in his lap. “They don’t work on those with Fae blood.”
Richard shrieked, a full-on girly shriek, as the mixture of alcohol and ice landed in his crotch. “Bitch! What are you doing?”
Tori stepped back smartly and grabbed her evening purse off the table, stopping only to cast a look over her shoulder. “I hope it gets frostbite and drops off. Have a nice evening, Richard. Don’t bother to call.”
* * *
Tori was still shaking when she let herself back into her apartment. Slamming the door shut, she dropped her keys onto the hall table and shrugged out of her coat.
The light on her answering machine winked at her as she hung the coat up on the peg.
“Tori, this is your mother…”
“Ugh, not tonight, Mom.” Tori hit the off button as soon as her mother’s tones filled the small hallway. She loved her mother to bits, but there was no way she wanted to sit through a lecture on how she was getting on in years now, and shouldn’t she be thinking about finding Mr. Right and producing some grandkids for her mother to spoil rotten?
Trudging through to the living room, Tori almost collided with one of the household Wraiths as it went about its business. She stepped back with a quiet apology even though the creature, nothing more than a magical construct powered by her household spells, wouldn’t hear her and couldn’t answer.
Tori flopped down into her favorite chair with relief. Sighing, she dropped her head back and closed her eyes. The trouble was she was trying to find Mr. Right, trying her damn hardest, but so far all she’d found was Mr. Arrogant, Mr. Self-obsessed and Mr. Downright Scary.
“Arrrrrgh! Where are all the normal men?” She ran her hands through her hair in frustration. “Oh, sorry, am I in the way?”
The Wraith flicking the feather duster over the coffee table in front of her had stopped, its route interrupted by Tori’s outstretched legs. It didn’t say anything. It just stayed motionless and silent as it waited for her to move them so it could carry on with the cleaning.
Apologizing again, Tori moved her legs, curling them up under her in the chair as she watched the Wraith idly. They were wonderful things, the stuff of magic made real to cope with all those nasty little household jobs most modern women didn’t have the time for. Tori didn’t know what she’d do without them cleaning up around the place. Sure, she had to do her washing herself—for some reason her household Wraiths didn’t like the washing machine—but that was a small price to pay.
The Wraith moved around the room, ruthless in its pursuit of the smallest scrap of dust. Tall and slender, it was undoubtedly female, shimmering lines giving form to the ghostly figure. Tori turned her head to try and get a good look at it…at her. They were nearly always female although Tori had seen a male on occasion.
The face refused to come into focus and Tori sighed. It was always the same. No matter how hard you tried to get a good look at them to see what they looked like, what color their eyes were…it never worked. It was like they were always out of focus somehow, out of focus and silent.
Tori dropped her head back against the comfortable cushions and rubbed at her eyes. Actually, that sounded like the perfect man; silent, polite and did as he was told.
Her hands, balled into fists as she knuckled the corners of her eyes, stopped. She sat bolt upright and looked at the ghostly figure dusting the already spotless dining table.
The perfect man would be a Wraith?
* * *
“Isskal, either you behave or, I swear to God, you’ll never have sex ever again. Do I make myself clear?”
Jacob stood in the middle of the controller’s hall between two burly guards who were giving him the evil eye. He folded his arms and looked at Miknris, the Duties Controller, a dried up old hag of a woman. He wouldn’t give her a passing look apart from the fact she was his boss and, technically, he was supposed to do what she said.
Why she thought the guards necessary, he didn’t know though. He was more a lover than a fighter, and that was precisely the reason he had been hauled in here.
“Yes, ma’am. Was there anything else or can I get back to it?” He pointed over one shoulder with both thumbs, one eyebrow arched in question. “You know how it is, places to see, bored housewives to do.”
“Isskal…” The controller’s tone was warning as her lips compressed into a thin, white line. Even her nose wrinkled, her expression as disgusted as though she’d just sucked a lemon.
“My name is Jacob.”
Miknris sat upright in her chair and clicked her tongue in disapproval as she shook her head. Jacob had seen her astral form in the “real world” and the form she wore was beautiful…mysterious and seductive. A world away from the dried up prune sitting in front of him with a disappointed look on her face.
“Isskal, Isskal, Isskal…that was your name, before you…” She paused then quickly carried on. “Did what you did and were sent to us.”
Jacob’s face hardened. “You mean before I got screwed over?”
“You weren’t ‘screwed over’ as you so eloquently put it. You died with an un-lifted curse on your soul which qualifies as unfinished business. Which means—”
Jacob finished for her, his voice raised mockingly. “Which means that I’m stuck here being used as a freaking Casanova until I can get some woman to fall in love with me and release me from my curse. Which is never going to happen unless I can talk to them!”
Miknris pulled an expression like a bulldog chewing a wasp. “You know the rules, Isskal. Wraiths do not talk. Ever. To do so risks the mortals finding out and puts our whole society in jeopardy.”
“Puts our whole society in jeopardy…” Jacob mimicked her voice mockingly. “Yeah, lady, I got the whole history lesson when the Fates dragged me in here. What makes you think I give a rat’s ass about your society? I wasn’t born in this godforsaken place and, to be honest, the sooner I fucking leave it, the better. Just those three little words—I love you—from anyone of the female persuasion and you won’t see me for dust.”
Miknris rose out of her seat, her expression going from purple to puce in one easy step. “Are you naturally stupid or is it something you practice at? Because, Lady help me, I can’t tell the difference anymore. Exactly what part of ‘no talking’ don’t you understand, Isskal?”
Jacob just looked at her. The woman was as stubborn as a mule, no doubt about it, but two could play at that game, and before his death, Jacob had been a master at it.
“Exactly what part of ‘I don’t give a shit about your rules’ don’t you understand, Miknris? I died. I expected the big bright light and busty babes with wings preferably not wearing an awful lot. I didn’t expect to be dragged into some sort of netherworld and fucking set to work. Fucking being the operative word here.”
Miknris’ smile was slow but it sent shivers of dread up Jacob’s spine. He knew he was complaining like a bitch about his job. After all, a guy didn’t expect to buy the farm in a car crash and end up in some freaky version of the afterlife where he was summoned at a whim to act as some bored housewife’s gigolo. Okay, so the sex was the upside of all this, even if some of his partners were ten-pinters. All he had to do was lie back and think of England—figuratively speaking, of course—but it wasn’t enough.
To break this damn curse he needed to get one of them to fall in love with him.
To do that he needed to be able to talk to them, say the words himself which would hopefully prompt a favorable response. All he needed was a couple of hours for Christ’s sake.
Women had trouble separating emotion and sex, so the women who called him were already halfway there. Emotionally open and vulnerable, they just needed a little nudging in th
e right direction. Some flattering words and the sort of attention Jacob was so good at and bang, words said, job done. He’d be free of his servitude under Madam Fugly here.
Under Madam Fugly. Jacob shuddered and felt sick.
Miknris smiled suddenly. A sickly sweet smile which rang alarm bells for Jacob.
Whatever she was going to say, he wasn’t going to like it.
“Oh, that won’t be a problem for you any longer, Isskal. I wasn’t joking when I said you’d never have sex again. In light of your inability, shall we say, to control yourself, I’m taking you off the sex roster. You’re being reassigned to domestic services.”
* * *
The perfect man…the perfect man.
The words went around and around in Tori’s head as she lay on her bed staring at the ceiling. Her book lay open on the cover next to her, but unlike normal, it hadn’t sent her into the land of nod within a few pages. Tori liked reading and it was a good book; however, usually she was too tired when she finally tumbled into bed to stick with it. Tonight though, she was awake enough to read War and Peace.
It wasn’t a fictional storyline which buzzed around in her head. It was the possibility about Wraiths which had occurred to her earlier. Perhaps she’d been looking for a man in the wrong places. All the ones she’d met in the last year or so had, to put it bluntly, been complete assholes. All were men convinced they were God’s gift to women, and that she should be grateful they even deigned to look in her direction.
Giving up any pretense of sleep she lifted her head and plumped the pillows.
Despite her words to Richard earlier, Tori only had the barest minimum of Fae blood.
Her great-great-great-something grandmother had been Sidhe but the blood had been filtered down since then. So much so that all Tori had inherited was a mane of blood-red hair, a pair of exotically slanted green eyes and some trinkets, most of which were beautiful but fairly useless.