Biting Me Softly: Biting Love, Book 3
Page 33
Kaine rented a beautiful wedding chapel in the marriage-happy desert town, booting all the other couples ahead of us in line out of the pristine white house. They didn’t mind, however, once he handed them a thousand-dollar poker chip for their inconvenience. Then he arranged to stay at the best accommodation, including private butler and maid service, in a fancy hotel. In blissful wedded happiness, we hopped into the waiting stretch limousine and glided down the Strip.
You got it. I was living the champagne-and-roses life, lying next to the man I loved. And even though I know it’s kind of rude to say so, I can’t help but go there.
Eat your heart out, ladies.
“Chrissy-doll…”
I batted my eyelids at him. I couldn’t believe it. Batting eyelids was so not the type of thing I’d do. Or at least it wasn’t until I met Kaine. “What’s up, big guy?” I grinned, knowing he’d understand what I really meant by big guy.
“We didn’t discuss this, but—”
I laughed. “We didn’t have time to discuss a lot of things.” I wiggled my eyebrows in a so-so imitation of Grouch Marx. “Especially since coming in Vegas.” I winked at him, hoping he’d catch my innuendo. Again, not something I would normally do, but a girl in love does silly things.
He quirked an eyebrow, mimicking my eyebrow play. “Very, very true.”
I reached down to grab his Big Guy and was shocked when Kaine took my hand away. Wow, talk about a short honeymoon. Headache already? However, I decided to keep my thoughts to myself—for once. Instead I cocked my eyebrow at him (ahem!) with a pointed (like he should be) look. This eyebrow-versus-eyebrow thing might have to go to the mat. Preferably the mattress. (I’m on a roll.)
“I’d like to talk about children.”
I froze as though someone had dumped a bucket of ice on me. First, Big Guy was off limits and now he’d brought up the ultimate libido-buster: children. Was he trying to kill the attraction between us?
“Chrissy-doll, are you all right?”
Somewhere deep inside me, a molecular army of child-bearing DNA lit an emergency flame, thawed me out, and went into hiding. Was the man insane? Did he expect me to give up my pursuit of the magical miraculous butt-buster already? Talk about humps! I immediately envisioned my body with not only my little hump on the rump, but a bigger bump in the front.
“Children? Tell me you’re about to say you’ve had a vasectomy. Because if you have, it’s totally cool with me.” I waited—hell, prayed—to see him confirm a little snip-snip to his dick-dick. But it seemed my luck had run out. “Holy crap, are you seriously talking about rug rats? Seriously? What happened to the honeymoon? What happened to just you and me having fun for a while? And I’m talking a long while.”
As in a lifetime.
He pulled away—oh, no he did-n’t!—and I gaped at him. My hope that he was joking vanished along with the sparkle in his eye.
“Yes, I’m serious. I’d like to have a child as soon as possible.”
As soon as possible? Now I was the one pulling away. Away and straight out of the bed. “Are you frickin’ kidding me?” I wrapped the sheet around me, scanned the room and searched for a hidden camera. “Tell me you’re punking me.” I laughed—or at least I tried to—but the noise sounded more like a croak. “This is a joke, right?”
But his expression left no doubt. The man wanted a baby-mamma and he wanted her now. My legs suddenly lost their strength, and I barely managed to sink into one of the cushy armchairs near the bed.
Kaine was up and moving toward me. “Chrissy-doll, I had no idea you’d react this way. Don’t you like kids?”
I tilted my head and peered at him, hoping a different angle would make me see the upward turn of his lips signaling his mirth. I held on to the dying dream that this was a bad joke, but knew that particular funeral had my beloved dream lying four feet under and sinking straight to Hell. “Uh, sure I do.” As long as they were someone else’s. A tickle of apprehension latched onto the back of my neck. No. Don’t go there. Don’t think about it.
He visibly sighed in relief. Uh-oh. Time to nix his dream in the butt. Or however the saying goes.
“Hold on, sport. Let me clarify. I like kids in television commercials, on billboards hawking cereal, and in someone else’s arms, far, far away in a whole different universe than mine. But real kids screaming, pooping and getting dirty within a hundred yards of me? Not a chance.”
The pained expression on his face threw me for a loop and, so help me, I relented a little bit. “Are you like dead-set on having one? And definitely only one?” An inner voice screamed at me, warning me not to go down this path. I suddenly wished I could take back my questions.
I prayed he’d say no—to the first question, that is. Failing help from above, I hoped he would want just one. The thought of two or more children clinging to my shirttail was simply too unbelievable to imagine.
“I must have a child. And soon.” His gaze bore into me and I knew, without a doubt, we had hit a deal breaker. If this man didn’t get a baby from me, he’d go elsewhere.
And, frankly, that just pissed me off.
“You must? What does that mean? And isn’t this something you should’ve mentioned before we got hitched?” Never mind that I’d never brought up the subject either. He started to open his mouth, but I didn’t want to hear anything like baby or pregnant or any other word not in my vocabulary. “You’d better start taking hormone treatments because if anyone in this marriage is getting knocked up, it ain’t gonna be me.”
There’s a fine line between mysticism and madness…one they must cross to win.
Forbidden: The Sacrifice
© 2009 Samantha Sommersby
Forbidden, Book 1
London psychiatrist Wesley Atherton is a man of science. He doesn’t believe in love at first sight…until he finds himself inexplicably drawn to a green-eyed American beauty he bumps into on the Tube. Just his luck, Katherine, a fashion design intern, has an engagement ring on her finger.
Wes knows a thing or two about people, though. Instinct tells him there’s something more than irresistible temptation behind their attraction. She doesn’t love her fiancé, he’s sure of it—now if only he can convince her they’re meant to be together.
Surviving a deadly train wreck is the first sign his intuition is spot on. The second—a psychic who warns them the Reaper doesn’t like to be cheated out of its quarry. The situation defies all logic, but a string of strange and lethal events convinces Wes that he and Katherine are living on borrowed time. Pitted in a battle against death itself, Wes will do anything, make any sacrifice, to protect the woman he loves.
This book has been substantially revised and expanded from its original published version.
Warning: This book contains one bad-ass demon, spectacular shagging, a feisty American heroine, and one very hot, very British, knife-wielding shrink.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Forbidden: The Sacrifice:
“Don’t move.”
I locked the front door, pulled off my boots and socks, then shed my coat, letting it all fall to the floor. There was another roar of distant thunder. Katherine’s back was to the door. I stepped closer to her, then leaned down, lightly brushing my lips across hers.
“I swear, the rain tastes like wine on your lips,” I whispered, resisting the urge to deepen the kiss.
I crouched down on one knee to remove her boots. Then as I climbed back to my feet, I pulled the T-shirt I’d been wearing up over my head. Before I had time to toss it onto the growing pile of clothes, Katherine boldly reached out for me, slipping a finger inside the waistband of my jeans and pulling me toward her.
She unfastened the buckle of my belt then paused, her hand at my zipper. I lifted my hand to cup the side of her face and searched out her eyes.
“Lift up your arms,” I told her, gathering up the edge of her sweater and raising it. We lost eye contact for the briefest of moments as I pulled it over her head. Her cap came off as well
. I carelessly tossed them aside.
“Wes.”
I placed my hand around Katherine’s neck and, ever so slowly, slid it down, gliding it over her damp flesh, heating it, warming her.
A sigh escaped her lips as I brushed my fingertips across the tops of the full mounds of her breasts.
“White lace.” I reached down to palm one. “It looks so innocent, pure, virginal. I’m having horrible, nasty thoughts.”
“Are you now?” she asked in a breathy voice as I lowered my hands to her zipper.
“Oh, yeah.” I pulled her wet pants past her hips and watched them fall to the floor, then I quickly shed my own jeans. “You have no idea how much I want you right now.”
I crushed my lips to hers in the heat of passion. The lace of her bra scratched against my chest as I pressed my body flush against hers. She parted her lips, and I slipped my tongue inside, boldly exploring the warm, wet cavern, holding nothing back.
Katherine released an intoxicating moan into my mouth that made me want her even more.
I slid my arm around her waist and then snaked my hand inside her matching lace knickers to caress her bottom. My kisses followed the path to her neck and I nibbled gently at her pulse point. She was trembling with need and in truth, so was I.
“Tell me you’re cold.”
“I wasn’t shivering from the cold.” She was flushed with arousal.
“I’m going to go get your robe. I’ve got to get some distance.” Before I could step back, she reached down between us, the back of her hand brushing across the front of my boxers.
“Or what?”
I moved in close, pressing my rock-hard cock into the softness of her belly, my face just a hairsbreadth away from hers.
“I spontaneously combust from all this pent-up sexual tension.”
Katherine’s breath hitched.
“Or I throw you onto the cold marble floor and have my wicked way with you.”
“I vote for—”
I placed my fingers over her mouth to silence her.
“I’ll be right back with a robe. Then I’ll start a fire and get the chill out of the air.”
It took me only a few moments to dash up the stairs, put on a dry pair of jeans and grab the robe I’d promised.
I returned to find Katherine in the living room. She was bending over to turn on a lamp, her back to me.
“Here you go, love.” I held the robe out, behind her. Its hem brushed up against the calves of her legs.
When it did, Katherine let out a terrified scream. She spun around and her scream rippled, echoing throughout the room.
“Christ!”
“Sorry, you startled me,” she gasped placing her hand over her heart, trying to catch her breath.
“Didn’t mean to. Here, slip this on.” I held out the robe. She wasn’t moving. “Katherine?”
She was looking past me, over my shoulder. I turned. She was staring at the large mirror that hung on the wall in the entryway.
“What is it?”
“Nothing. It’s…”
“Yes?”
“It’s nothing.”
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