by Talyn Scott
“I gotta hear this theory.” Rebecca discreetly studied the vision before them. A hundred and forty two-year old male Caucasian dressed in sandals (mandals), white tube socks, and a vibrantly colored banana hammock.
“Well, listen closely. At the old fart shoe store, where they sell mandals to the aged and wardrobe challenged,” Renee explained seriously, “they hang the white tube socks next to the shoe display. It’s the same as those big hardware stores. You buy the power saw heavily discounted, but need the expensive blades to go along with it. All accessories are priced on the high end. The shoes are probably a loss for the store, but selling several pairs of “matching” tube socks escalates the profit ratio.” She nodded her head, clearly satisfied with herself.
“God, college paid off for you.” Tatum rolled her eyes. “By the way, you need to get out more.”
“No, he needs to get out more.” Renee argued. “Why would you want a sock full of sand?”
“He has on two, which would make it plural.” Rebecca corrected herself, “Actually three, no one is that blessed unless they’re immortal. So another tube sock is definitely hitching a ride in that banana hammock.”
“I’m glad I won’t grow old, now.” Renee drew from her bottle and said, “He has liver spots on his liver spots.”
“God’s gonna punish you for that.” Tatum snapped.
“Don’t I know it? So while I’m already in trouble, I have to know. Why do they get hair coming out of their ears and noses, yet nothing’s on top…or even on their legs. Have you noticed that? Lately, the old men look like they wax their legs.”
“I think it’s some type of medical condition and that’s as far as I’m going with this conversation,” Rebecca raise a brow, daring her to continue.
“How far are you going with everything else, Becca?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I don’t know,” Renee said drolly. “Because you can’t stop rubbing your belly, and you have this goofy look on your face when you’re not in the bathroom puking.” Flashing her white teeth, she smiled with unadulterated calculation. “Or the fact that poor Blade had to go out in the middle of the night to get you not one, but two Big Macs.”
Rebecca and Renee came to an instant and very silent standoff. Tatum broke it. Digging through the cooler, she bypassed the beer, several wine coolers and snagged good old Florida orange juice. “Have another drink and tell us how far along you are.”
“Last full moon,” she shared, “the night everything went to hell and back.”
“I’m gonna be the best aunt.” Renee beamed, hugging her fiercely and wiping away tears.
“Congrats, Becca,” Tatum said, kissing her cheek. “But I’m gonna be the best aunt.”
“Let the competition begin,” Rebecca laughed, readjusted her shades and quickly changed the subject. “Ciaran said most the work is complete on the castle. Mike’s been incredible, overseeing everything with the grounds and the females. The fire damage wasn’t as bad as they all first thought and the structure is sound. The chapel was never touched.”
“The chapel Ciaran and Blade want to marry you in?” Renee stared down at her wedding band the same time Tatum did. Both had recently solidified the human side to their marriages by legally joining with one of their males. Rebecca never asked which ones they technically married. It didn’t matter to them. It didn’t matter to her. They were all in love, all committed, just as she and her men were. “Yeah, you guys can come and frolic in the Highlands.” She wagged her copper brows.
“You know what we could do in the meantime?”
“Damn straight I do,” Tatum laughed, checking out the volleyball game close to shore. Sunset was approaching, but the awe-inspiring horizon left little appeal compared to the sex machines stationed before them. “Men in athletic action are a thing to behold, especially when they’re ours and not exactly men. Have you ever witnessed this much drool worthiness in one concentrated area?”
“Well, I have to pretend my brother’s not in the group. But yeah, the carnal jackpot was hit by each of us.” Rebecca answered, giggling when she saw Bren laughing back at her.
“They’re so hot, muscles on top of muscles and so pretty to boot.” Renee let out a long sigh. “I’d better stop drinking. It makes me horny.” She pushed away her bottle, curiously eyeing Rebecca’s men. “So how good are they in the sack?”
“Shush,” Rebecca scolded. “We can’t have a sex chat right now.”
“I’m whispering,” she glanced behind her and around, “what gives?”
Rebecca turned back, watching the men play. “They can hear everything, you know? Ah,” she tempered her voice. “Maybe you don’t. They’re listening to our conversation as we speak.”
“Why?”
“Protective instincts,” Rebecca answered, giving her a duh look, “and a whole lot of nosiness.”
Tatum lowered her glasses and barely whispered. “Jayce Jordan, you are the Alpha of Alpha males, and I love every square inch of you inside and out, even when you’re angry. Years ago, if anyone would have told me that I would be sitting here hitched to you,” she laughed. “I would’ve flipped them the bird and kept walking. I know better now, so much better,” her breath hitched on a small emotional sniffle.
Turning his sinful body, Jayce mouthed I love you just as a volleyball cruelly slammed the side of his face. He didn’t care. And that was saying a lot considering they were playing werewolf style: feral and blood thirsty with no rules.
Tatum blew Jayce a kiss, after wiping a wayward tear. Only then did she address her other love. “Bren Walker, you scared the hell out of me when we were teens. But I understand now more than ever, knowing what you truly are. You don’t have to feel sorry for that, because I forgave you so long ago.” She watched his shoulders relax. “No matter how crazed you get, you heart is in the right place and my heart belongs to you. It always will. Forever. And I’m going to try harder for you every day, just as you do for me.”
Bren checked for onlookers. Seemingly satisfied, he misted before her and effortlessly picked her up bridal style. “I frightened you? Have you any idea what I’ve been through with you? I think we’re more than even.”
“Most likely,” she murmured, tightening her arms around his corded neck, admiring his male beauty. “I continually lose all senses staring at you and I realize I always will. I’ve said it a million times: I’m a lucky, lucky girl.”
Jayce misted beside them, matching that wicked glint in Tatum’s eyes. “We’re done,” Jayce said to the gathering, as they walked away with Tatum cradled in Bren’s arms and headed for the penthouse.
Renee raised her eyebrows at Rebecca and nudged her knee. “I heard it was ladies night down at Liberty’s. Those particular banana hammocks are filled to capacity, never droopy, and surrounded by pristine youth and man-scaped male magnificence.”
“Oh, shit,” Rebecca covered her face. “You seriously don’t want to do that.”
With his head canted, Arian strode purposefully across the sand, kicking it up with long strides while never misting or losing eye contact with his mate. “He didn’t even mist.” Renee shot back at Rebecca.
“He’s making a statement,” she explained. “It’s a territorial lope. Oh, and you’ve pissed him off.”
“Mine,” he tightly hissed, standing in front of Renee within scant seconds.
“It was joke,” Renee giggled, when Arian gripped her ankles and dragged her down the chaise. “You’re burning my butt,” she complained, rubbing her backside.
“Stop with the thongs,” he ordered, throwing her over his massive shoulder and slapping her ass none too kindly. “That mouth of yours needs something else to do besides provoking me. Tell your friend good-bye.”
“Bye, Becca,” she tried to sound disappointed in leaving, but fooled no one. Renee just couldn’t wipe the silly, love
-sick grin off her face.
“I’m out,” Dru told the others, after witnessing the scene with his co-mates.
“I’m definitely in,” Bane retorted, laughing before misting next to Arian and Renee. “You’re in so much trouble, little one. Now’s as good a time as any to tell you I’ve put a spanking bench in our new playroom,” he murmured against her ear, inducing her shiver.
“Don’t I get some kind of safe word?” she challenged.
“Immortals don’t use safe words, sweetheart, they’re for humans.” Dru appeared alongside them with his fangs elongated, dripping. “Anyway, I have a little endorphin-induced insurance policy against that.”
“Bad vampire,” she scolded, trying to look stern but she couldn’t pull it off.
“That’s the way you like me,” he reminded her with blazing eyes.
“That’s the way I love you,” she promised, kissing Arian’s solid neck while never taking her eyes off Bane and Dru, “all of you.”
“Let’s go home.” Arian nibbled Renee’s shoulder before handing her to Dru. She waved at Rebecca when Dru nailed her throat and misted her out, followed by Arian and Bane.
“The last one standing,” Rebecca sighed, watching Blade near Ciaran, though neither looked at her. “On the whole, I’m now convinced of fate, Blade. You kept telling me something I denied vehemently, but you were right. I’m so in love with you.” She stared down, running her fingers through the powdery sand, making random designs before smoothing them. “I’m predestined with the best of the males and they’re going to be awesome fathers.”
“Ciaran, I heard you talking on the phone, earlier. And I don’t want you to give up Scotland for me. That pack wasn’t handed to you. You earned it. Not many Alphas can claim that if any. Why throw all that away? We should go home to Scotland.” She felt his stare and raised her face to meet it. “I’m desperately in love with you.”
“Ah, lass, I love you deeply,” Ciaran breathed, embracing her with a gentle hug.
“I still can’t get used to how fast you are.” Jarred that he was suddenly in her face, she laughed and kissed the tip of his nose. “I’m hungry.”
“Anything,” Blade said, now next to them. “Tell me what you want to eat, and I’ll get it.” His smile was wide, ear to ear, no doubt thinking of the child they created. So was she.
“Not for food, fellas.”
Gage prowled the roof. Lonely, so fucking lonely, he groaned. All the while knowing Tatum was inside – not lonely in the least - being serviced by two mates. With his keen hearing, he was unable to drown out her cries of pleasure, even mentally. Then Gage pictured himself coming inside her, being Tatum’s only one. But he wasn’t, never would be. He should be happy for her…if he loved her. The whole love them and set them free bullshit should be in full-blown action. Did anyone really do that?
For the hundredth time this month, he wondered: Why can’t I move on?
He was one of the strongest males of their species.
Rebecca just spoke of fate. He pictured said fate in his mind: a cold-blooded bitch that fucked with his life for hundreds of years.
He was sick of fate and quite sick of himself.
Pathetic.
Rolling his head on his shoulders, he felt the tension. The need for the wind on his face, the beast wanted to run. So he hit mid-transformation, keeping control of his ancient werewolf all the while using its primordial power. Feeling the claws sharpen, canines scraped his lower lip, muscles tripled and lengthened as they mapped the planes of his body. Senses tingled with extraordinary awareness.
Gage was pumped.
For the moment, he could forget. Forget Tatum had moved to Miami and lived in his very building. Days upon days of temptation lay ahead.
Run. Run. Run.
Jetting from building to building, Gage wasted no time. Scenery blurred. Roof tiles snapped under his feet as the wind slapped his body. Elation overtook him before he realized he’d gone too far, approaching the club scene.
The sex zones he vowed to avoid.
He skidded to a mind numbing stop and scented her.
Mine, his beast snarled.
Words he’d never imagined. No fucking way, he thought, after all these years? How was it finally possible? But his body convinced him otherwise as he grew insatiably hard after scenting a female arousal. That arousal belongs to me.
Car after car, building after building, humans after humans, the obstacles were endless. Within a mile’s radius, how was he supposed to find a female that just climaxed in a Miami hotspot?
Sanibel Seduction
Is Gage looking for you?
Winter 2012
Up next:
Captiva Captive October 15th