Best Man, Worst Man
Page 9
And yet she had gone. Like a lamb to slaughter, she had gone.
It was okay, though. As long as she could save the others, she could be at peace with what had to be done now. Not that she was some kind of freaky saint or anything. It was just that as she’d sat in the transport drowning in images of what was to come, she had reached a very basic conclusion—she would rather die than live with the knowledge that she could have done something, but didn’t.
So she wasn’t a saint, and she sure as hell wasn’t even nodding acquaintances with that thing called bravery. If anything, she was too much of a coward to live with the guilt of surviving while everyone else got blown into unrecognizable bits.
“Via? What the hell—?”
She heard Weddo’s shocked voice, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was focusing on what she knew, what she saw, and pushing it with all her might into Locke. She wasn’t sure if she was doing it right. Hell, she didn’t even know if she was doing anything more than simply kissing a stranger and making a ginormous ass of herself. She had only done this sort of thing once before when she was fifteen, and it had been a total accident back then.
By degrees, the frenzied panic boiling through her blood eased like a tight fist unfurling, and new, thoroughly unexpected sensations began to seep in through the smothering veil of fear. For just a heartbeat the universe seemed to pause, a collective holding of breath while even the sound of the bustling city’s daily life came to a gentle stop. For Via, there was only this fragile moment as her mouth molded to his, and a shocking thrill of pleasure bloomed like fireworks in her brain when his lips softened and returned the pressure with interest. Her booted feet barely touched the ground as she kept her arms wrapped tightly around his strong neck, and delight mingled with relief when his free arm curled about her waist to bring her fully against the rock-solid length of his battle-hardened warrior’s body. His breath was warm, his taste tantalizing. The seductive nuzzling of his silk-over-steel lips against hers invited her untutored mouth to explore deeper, and she saw no reason why she should resist when she knew they were living on borrowed time.
A tremulous note of discord whispered from her psyche into his, a never-ending ricochet rippling noiselessly between them. The pleasure bounced back and forth as well, doubling and trebling as it went, but threaded through it was what the vision had shown her. But that was okay too. If this was to be her last moment of life, she was determined to pour every ounce of joy, vitality and pleasure she could into this kiss. If anything, she was happy for this final opportunity to go out with a bang.
“Lieutenant Locke, attention!”
It was the strangest thing, was all Via could think while her pulse pounded in her ears and in the lips that had become the most sensitive part of her body. It was as though she and this man—a militia man, for God’s sake—had discovered that with a kiss, they could create a magical little sphere where only they existed, and nothing of the gritty, desperate, dangerous place that was their world could encroach on their private slice of perfection. Then her lips drifted like a dream away from his, and the restless throb of the ever-bustling city once again filled her ears. But nothing felt the same. She wasn’t the same. As mad as it sounded, she felt changed from the inside out.
Were kisses supposed to change the world?
Via opened eyes she couldn’t remember closing, and gazed up in dazed confusion at the man she held with all the passionate fervor of a long-time lover. Where was the explosion? Had she interrupted the sequence of events? Was everyone safe?
Everyone except her, of course. Her safe life was officially over now that she had revealed to a gun-toting jarhead member of the militia that she was a psionic.
Dayum.
“What the hell are you hick farmers feeding your oversexed women?” Colonel Fynn raged at Weddo, who was staring at Via in horrified disbelief. Her eyes shimmering with the chaos churning her insides, she could only shake her head. There was no time to explain her behavior. There was no time for anything, except…
Maybe there could be one last way out.
When she looked back to Locke, his flat, not-really-human optics were still trained on her as if he didn’t know how to look away. “Kill me,” she whispered in a rush, and watched his cyberoptics widen in surprise. It was probably the stress that made her think there might have been an impossible flash of emotion there. “If you have even one ounce of compassion left in that meched-out body of yours, please kill me. You’ll be doing me a favor.”
Slowly he shook his head while Fynn yelled at Weddo, “You’re a—”
“Please.” She grabbed the muzzle of his pulse rifle and angled it under her chin with the surreal calm of one who had no other choice. “Do it.”
A muscle jumped in his jaw. “You’re crazy.”
“No one will blame you. I attacked you.”
“Attacked?” His head continued to shake. “That’s not what I’d call it.”
“Locke, you come to attention, you worthless bastard!” Fynn was all but frothing at the mouth while the rest of his troops closed in on the uncharacteristic knot of chaos in their midst, wary and confused. “What do you think you’re doing, soldier, falling for a classic diversionary tactic while the enemy closes in?”
“The no-goods are dispersing, Colonel.” Locke’s voice was oddly remote, as though he was only half-aware of the words coming out of his mouth. And all the while he stared at Via as if the next beat of his heart depended on it. “Look around. Even an untrained eye can see there is no enemy out there.”
Fynn turned an alarming shade of puce, making Via wonder if anyone had ever mustered up the cojones to contradict him. “The moment any soldier thinks that, they become worse than a liability. They become as bad as the enemy itself.” In sheer contempt, Fynn threw the cigar he still held at Locke’s feet. “Lifers, fall back double-time.”
“Bomb!” Locke suddenly shouted and waved at Weddo and the others. “Get in the transport, now!”
“Wait, I stopped—” Via’s protest was cut off as Locke’s free arm clamped around her waist like a vise, and she let out a strangled gasp when it felt like the lower half of her rib cage was crushed. Then, without warning, he leapt an easy fifteen feet off the raised loading dock in a mind-boggling show of inhuman strength, landing on the ground beside the dock so hard Via’s teeth clicked together.
“Get down!” Locke’s roar was superfluous, for his massive warrior’s body crouched over hers like a smothering blanket until she was forced into a fetal position, her head pushed down so far her chin gouged into her chest.
“But I stopped it—”
Via’s strangled protest was interrupted once more by an explosion above them. A sickening, hellish wave of heat billowed out over their heads. The concussive force made her eardrums quake like aspen leaves as the air pressure heaved out, then sucked back into the loading dock, as if a mythical giant were pulling in a massive gulp of air and holding it. Then the world went strangely still, while her stunned brain rattled around in her cranium like a tiny marble caught in a washer’s spin cycle.
It’s bad enough losing the wedding rings, let alone your heart…
Something Blue
© 2011 Serenity Woods
A Come Rain or Come Shine Story
Josh Hamnett is best man at his mate’s wedding, and he’s determined that nothing’s going to go wrong on the big day. That’s before ex-girlfriend Kate Summerton appears in the church, looking mouthwateringly good in her tight red satin dress. Her maid of honor’s dress.
Ceremony, reception, speeches, the first dance…he’s got to go through them all by the side of the woman who still haunts his dreams. And to top it off, she’s not wearing any underwear.
Their break-up three years ago was explosive, and Kate was sure she’d never forgive how he behaved. But now all the memories are coming back—the good as well as the bad. As their wedding duties keep throwing them into each other’s company, Kate can’t ignore the resurging chemist
ry between them—or the nagging thought that maybe, this could be the start of a second chance.
Warning: Contains sexual chemistry hot enough to turn sand to glass—best read while wearing oven gloves and dark shades.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Something Blue:
“Kate, promise me you won’t get drunk tonight and do something you’ll regret.”
Kate looked across at Becca. They were standing outside the reception hall, waiting for Alex to join them and start welcoming the guests. “I’m accident prone when I’m not drunk and in three-inch heels—do you really think I’m going to enhance my special abilities, especially on your wedding day?”
“I’m just saying…”
“Becca, you don’t have to. Honestly, nothing’s going to happen tonight. That relationship ended a long, long time ago. I have no intention of starting it up again, even if it was possible, which it’s not.”
The bride snorted. “I saw the way you looked at him—as if he was an ice lolly and you wanted to lick—”
“Becca!”
“Deny it. Tell me you weren’t thinking about him in bed.”
“I…can’t.” Kate pouted. “He’s hot and he was really, really good at it.”
She turned and took Becca’s hands, looking her in the eye. “But I’m not stupid. Well, not completely. We didn’t end well, Becs. I know I’ve told you before, but it wasn’t an amicable parting. I don’t want to dredge it all up again, and I don’t want a re-enactment. It was kind of nice to see him again, but you haven’t got anything to worry about.” She smiled. “Now come on, this is your big day and all we’re talking about is me. You’ve got to greet your guests and have a fantastic time—please don’t let me spoil it.”
“Oh, Kate, you’re not spoiling it at all.” Becca’s eyes went suspiciously glassy. “I just so want you to be happy and find what I have. You deserve it—you’re such a nice person. I’m so glad you’re my friend, and that you came all the way out here for me.”
“Of course I did. I couldn’t not come to the wedding of my best friend.” Kate’s own tears spilled over and the two women hugged.
“Oh yes,” said Josh as he and Alex walked over. He admired the two women, who were wrapped around each other. “Very nice. Don’t let us stop you.”
They broke apart, both glaring at him, and he grinned. “Guests are ready.” He bent to kiss Becca’s cheek. “You look ravishing, sweetheart.”
She hugged him and he shook hands with Alex before grabbing Kate’s hand. “Come on.” He strode off, pulling her into the reception hall with him.
“Will you let go?” She tugged on his hand, forcing him to stop.
He kept his fingers tight on hers, however, enjoying touching her. “We need to check the top table and make sure everything’s in order.”
“You can do that—I need to visit the Ladies’.” She yanked her hand out of his. “You can’t order me around just because we once went out together.”
He looked at her blankly. “I order everyone around. You’re not getting special treatment.”
She glared at him. “Where are we sitting? I swear, if I’m next to you, I’m going to take off my knickers and strangle myself with them.”
He stopped in his tracks and turned her to face him. “Seriously? You’re not going commando? Damn it. Talk about pop a guy’s bubble.” He looked at her butt and gave her a hard stare. “Wait a minute… There’s no way you’re wearing anything under that dress.”
He could tell by the way she blushed that he was right. He smirked.
“You haven’t changed a bit,” she said icily.
“Nope.”
He had meant the remark to be funny, but he saw the amusement fade from her eyes. He knew she was thinking how difficult it had been at the end of their relationship. The accusations they’d thrown at each other. The cruel things they’d said. He would give his right arm to be able to wipe their memories clean. But it was too late, it was all said and done and that boat had long since sailed.
“No hard feelings.” He brushed her arm. “It’s nice to see you. You look good and I was just window shopping.”
She gave a small smile. “You look good too. That suit suits you. If you know what I mean.”
“I do. But every dude looks good in a tux.”
She shrugged. “But you more than most.”
He studied her face, noticing she had new smile lines at the corner of her mouth and more freckles across her nose. “That was never a problem, was it? Being attracted to each other, I mean.”
“No. That was the least of our worries.”
“Okay.” He sighed. “I’d better start showing people where to sit.”
She nodded. “We’re both at the top table, I guess.”
“You are next to me, you know.”
She started to walk away, then turned back. “Well, I can’t strangle myself. As you know, I’m not wearing any knickers.”
Best Man, Worst Man
Stacy Gail
He’s the one problem she can’t solve.
From hysterical bridezillas to grooms with sub-zero feet, renowned wedding planner Claire Pomeroy has never met a disaster she couldn’t handle. Then she runs afoul of her client’s not-so-best man, a devilishly flirtatious rogue with a killer smile and a chest as solid as a concrete roadblock. Yet their sparks of attraction only highlight his obvious quest—to make sure this wedding knot never gets tied.
Confirmed bachelor Ryder Price knows one unshakable truth: marriage is nothing but a fairy tale. No way is he going to stand idly by while his wingman face-plants into the dreaded marital trap. But there’s a problem. A dark-eyed, dangerously curvaceous problem who’s bound and determined to pull this wedding off.
As her suddenly skittish clients teeter on the edge of cancellation, Claire challenges her nemesis to imagine long-term as something more than a quickie and a vague promise to call. Ryder counters with a challenge of his own. Let him give her a taste of just how fulfilling a little no-strings-attached passion can be.
Warning: This product contains cold feet, heavy petting, heavier breathing, and chocolate-covered fingers. To avoid a sweet-tooth side-effect, the author recommends having a chocolate-covered man nearby.
eBooks are not transferable.
They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
11821 Mason Montgomery Road Suite 4B
Cincinnati OH 45249
Best Man, Worst Man
Copyright © 2011 by Stacy Gail
ISBN: 978-1-60928-542-5
Edited by Imogen Howson
Cover by Kendra Egert
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: October 2011
www.samhainpublishing.com
Table of Contents
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
About the Author
Look for this title by Stacy Gail
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