He watched, mesmerized as she dipped her fingers into the honey and traced the sticky liquid around the swirl of her nipple. “You made that?”
“Well, the bees made this particular treasure. I’ve just found excellent uses for it.” She cradled her breast, lifted it in offering. “Would you like to try it?”
Hell yes. He dragged the flat of his tongue over her tightened bud, lapping up the rich honey before closing his lips around her. “Fuck, Kenna. You taste so good,” he growled. “I’ve missed this, sweetheart.” He nipped and sucked her nipples; first one, then the other. “I’ve missed you so much.”
“I knew you’d come back. I’ve always known, Mason.”
Her words set him free. Made him feel alive. Made him whole.
“You’re mine, Kenna. Always, mine. I need you, baby. I need you now.”
“Yes.” His.
Kenna was overwhelmed by sensation. Mason was here. In her arms.
He was here. Kissing the shit out of her.
He’d obviously taken excellent care of himself. His broad shoulders and hard chest were all she could see as he came over her. His biceps pulled tight as he held himself above her, and she didn’t even attempt to resist the urge to trace all the hard lines and ridges. Oh no, her hands worked double-time to make sure she didn’t miss an inch.
She caressed his narrow waist, moved farther down his torso until she could wrap her hand around his thick length. She remembered the velvety steel heat, and how good it felt when he stretched her. And he would stretch her—to her very limits—just as he’d always done.
She traced the bead of moisture that spilled from his crown, slicking it over him with the pads of her fingers, and delighted in the tortured groan that came from his chest. She pulled away from his kiss—her lungs desperate for air, her tongue eager for the taste of him. She brought her fingers up, brushed them over her kiss-swollen lips.
Mason’s eyes flared wide as she sucked his taste off her fingers. His warm, rich scent filled her head, made her dizzy. Her pussy clenched hard, her body more than ready for him.
“Are you going to fuck me, or just play around?”
He grabbed a condom from the bedside table and sheathed himself. “Oh, I’m going to do more than fuck you, Kenna. I’m going to marry you. Someday, I’ll give you babies. I plan to spend the rest of my life with you.”
“Doesn’t sound like you’re asking.”
He shifted until his cock nudged her entrance and then stopped. “I’m not.”
“Do you really want to talk about this now?” She arched her hips, trying to get him to finish what he’d started. “My life is in New York.” She figured she should warn him.
“Then that’s where my life will be.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that,” he confirmed, his tone dead serious. “I don’t give a shit where we live, Kenna. My life is where you are. My life has always been where you are. I can’t change what I had to do, baby. I hope you can forgive me for that. I’ve secured our future. A tiny little device I’ll tell you about later. I promise, I won’t leave you again.”
“You’ll explain it to me? You’ll tell me what you’ve been doing for the last eight years?”
His expression softened. “What I can, yes. I never wanted to leave you.”
“Are you back to stay? For good?”
“Forever.”
“Then marry me, give me babies, whatever. But, I’m not the same young girl you once knew. I know what I like. I know what I want.”
“And what do you want, sweetheart?”
“You. Now. And don’t even think about slow and easy, Mason. I’m not—” Kenna cried out as he thrust inside her. A surge of pleasure raced through her body, tiny sparks of electricity shooting off in different directions.
God, she’d missed this. The hot, thick penetration that bordered on pain—just enough to keep her on edge, keep her wild for him. She lifted her legs, sharing a groan with him at the change in position.
“Kenna. Jesus.” He stared at her with a hunger and need that matched her own.
She pulled him down and welcomed his weight on top of her as she nuzzled his neck. She loved the way he smelled, tasted. She loved everything about this man. And he was all hers.
She wrapped her legs around him and held tight as he worked his hips, driving his cock deep. Her body was on fire, sweat covering them both by the time her muscles tightened and prepared for release.
Mason’s breath was hot against her as he nibbled the sensitive skin behind her ear. The shadow that always seemed to adorn his face gently scraped her skin. Still she needed more.
“Mason,” she begged.
“I’m with you, sweetheart. Right here with you.”
He shifted to his knees. He hooked her legs with his arms and spread her wide.
Kenna watched as he stared intently at where they were joined, as if he were mesmerized by the sight. “I know what you need, but I don’t want to let go of your legs. You’re so wet, Kenna. So beautiful and delicate. God, you’re burning me alive. I want to feel you explode around me, sweetheart. Touch yourself, Kenna. Give us what we need.”
Kenna didn’t waste any time reaching between them. Her fingers, slick with her own juices, teased over his cock before finding the tight bud of her clit. Tortured nerve endings sizzled with excitement as she stroked.
Their gazes locked and then Kenna flew, her body exploding into a million fragments as wave after wave of pleasure rushed over her.
“I love you, Kenna. Love you so fucking much.” Mason’s voice was dark and rough.
She felt him pulse, felt the rumble in his chest as he came. She tightened around him, her body shuddering hard as the last tremors rolled through her.
This was what she’d dreamed about. Mason, her life mate, keeper of her soul … here … with her.
Forever.
“I love you, too, Mason.” She pulled his face down to hers. “Welcome home.”
About the Author
Parker Kincade is the award-winning erotic romance author of The Martin Family Series. Her first novel, One Night Stand, won the 2013 Reader’s Crown Award for Best First Book, the category of Best Erotic Romance in the Celtic Hearts Romance Writers Golden Claddagh contest and was named finalist in the Romance Writers of America/Passionate Ink Stroke of Midnight contest.
Parker lives in the southern United States with her husband, children and beloved boxer sidekick. She loves reading, playing golf, spending time with her family and friends, ice cream from the ice cream truck, taking her dog to the park and watching old musicals.
Website: http://www.parkerkincade.com
Blog: http://www.parkerkincade.blogspot.com
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/parkerkincade
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/parkerkincade
Group Blog: http://www.lovelustandlaptops.wordpress.com
Other Titles Available by Parker Kincade
Now Available:
One Night Stand
Lucky’s Charms
Spring Training
The Martin Family Series
One Night Stand
Shadow of Sin (November 2013)
Game On Series
Spring Training
Southern Heat (Summer 2014)
Coming Soon:
Shadow of Sin – November 6, 2013
Southern Heat – Summer 2014
The Star
Christy Gissendaner
Dedication
For my fellow Love, Lust, and Laptop gals. I can’t wait to meet ya’ll in person. Watch out, NOLA!
The party was already in full swing.
Teetering on hooker heels, Eve Montgomery pushed her way through the crowd. Several partygoers stopped to gape at her costume … or lack thereof. A mix-up at the costume shop forced her to make do. Instead of the leafy bikini she’d ordered, she’d ended up with only a fake plastic snake and a shiny red plastic apple. Not very much of a costume.
Unfortunately it was hard as hell to paint one’s own backside, so she’d had to call in a favor from a friend. Shazzer was a decent painter, more than capable of slapping on some green paint and glitter to cover Eve’s ass.
“Knock ’em dead, girl.” With a wave, Shaz headed for her own cage.
Eve gazed at the other three cages, seeking the one she was supposed to dance in. With a groan, she caught sight of a very familiar male body cavorting a few feet above her head.
Adam London was the bane of her existence. He lived a few doors down from her and made no secret of the fact he found her attractive. When she’d first come to New Orleans after hanging up her Vegas showgirl heels, he’d tried to get her to dance for his company. She’d gone to a few performances. The productions were much too sexy and avant-garde for her liking. Tits and ass had made her career, but she doubted she had the acting chops needed to join The London Company.
The party’s host had sent out invitations to all partygoers, even the staff. She’d received a torn half of a tarot card, The Star. Upon arriving at the party, the dancers had been ordered to find their match for the night. What sort of fucked up luck had made Adam draw her card? She wasn’t into astrology or voodoo mumbo jumbo, and she was sure something other than Fate was responsible for Adam getting the matching half of her card.
The cage was tiny, barely four feet wide. There was no hope of avoiding him in such close quarters. Gritting her teeth, she climbed the steps leading to the cage and slid inside.
Adam whistled after a full six seconds of checking her out. “Sexiness.”
His British accent, combined with a firmly muscled body, was the stuff dreams were made of. Just not her dreams. She’d been burned way too many times in the past to fall for a handsome face.
She put a hand against his chest … his sculpted pecs! … and made him keep his distance. “Listen, London. I’m only here to work. Keep your hands to yourself, capisce?”
His bluer-than-blue eyes twinkled. “Adam and Eve, huh? Very apropos. Are you here to tempt me to sin, darling?”
“You could only be so lucky,” she said with a laugh.
Turning away from him, she wrapped her hands around the bars of the cage and sent a sultry smile toward the crowd. A man in a mask and feathered wings caught her eye. Then his gaze moved to man behind her and lingered. Figures.
Huffing, she glanced over her shoulder. “Seriously, dude. Is there anyone immune to your good looks?”
“So, you do admit I’m good-looking?” Adam’s hand slid around her waist and pulled her toward him.
The feel of his tight body against her bare skin sent shivers racing down her spine. He bent down, his cheek resting on the mass of upswept curls pinned at the back of her head. “These people came to see a show. I can’t have you dancing way over there.”
She arched her spine, which brought her bottom into shocking contact with his crotch. Only a tiny slip of felt leaves and imitation fur covered his manhood. Gasping at his size, she tried to move away.
He clamped his hand against her hip and held her in place. “That’s it, darling. Keep that up and the crowd just might be fooled into thinking you like me.”
Truth be told, she liked him a little too much. Not that she’d ever admit it to him or anyone. Adam was so far out of her league, it was laughable. While she struggled to make ends meet, rooming with Shazzer and two other girls in one of four units created out of an older house, Adam owned a successful dance company and a large, beautiful home.
“Loosen up,” he whispered. “Just dance. This is your favorite song, isn’t it?”
She didn’t even question how he knew. The catchy beat of the latest Robin Thicke song poured through the speakers. No matter how many changes she went through in life, one thing remained constant. Her love of dancing had carried her through some really rough patches. Although her dream of Julliard had been cut short by a torn Achilles, she’d never given up. Instead of a career in ballet, she’d made a name for herself in Vegas. Not exactly the life her parents had dreamed for her to have, but a successful one nonetheless.
That was until the Vegas revue’s married producer had hit on her one too many times backstage. His wife had caught him attempting to kiss her and that had been the end of her career. Names like homewrecker and whore were hurtful, especially when she was innocent. Not that anyone had believed her.
She’d left Vegas behind and returned home to New Orleans to pursue her second hobby, painting. Unfortunately, it didn’t pay the bills. She supplemented her income with waitressing, but it was still hard to make ends meet. The offer of five hundred dollars had come at just the right time. She’d been worried about making her share of the rent.
So here she was, shaking her ass for all she was worth and pretending the man holding her didn’t turn her on. And damn, was she ever. A costume of paint couldn’t hide her response. Her nipples puckered. The green paint and twirling vines were no match for her body’s reaction.
“When this is over, come home with me.”
His audacity made her gasp. “Is sex all you think about?”
He spun her around and dipped her. He brought her body up. His sexy smile made her knees go weak. “Who said anything about sex?”
Pressed tightly against his oh-so-drool-worthy chest, she struggled to remember the reasons why she shouldn’t get involved with him. Not a single one came to mind. “It’ll never work between us.”
“Why?” He calmly stared at her, his eyes daring her to tell the truth.
“I’m not the type of girl you think I am.”
A dark look crossed his face. “I’m probably not what you think either.”
She shivered at his expression. The noise of the music and the crowd seemed to dim. Staring at him, an irresistible attraction pulled her. Why did she keep fighting it?
*
After sixty minutes of dancing, Eve took a break. Adam, who hadn’t even broken a sweat, joined her. Carefully making her way through the sea of guests, she went out a side door that led onto the verandah. For October, the weather was pleasantly mild, which was a good thing considering her lack of clothing.
“The party seems to be a success,” Adam remarked. He propped a hip on the railing and turned to face her.
She kept her distance, stretching her arms and legs to relieve the tired muscles. After an hour of dancing with him, her body hummed with unfulfilled desire. He was sex personified, lounging in his barely-there loincloth.
Moonlight peeped through the overhanging branches and illuminated Adam’s face. A glimmer of white flashed as he smiled.
She blinked. “Are you wearing fangs?”
His smile faded, only to be replaced by an intense look. “Why do you ask?”
She took a step forward, curiosity and an undeniable pull making her gravitate in his direction. “No reason.”
Eve peered at him and wondered if exhaustion had made her imagine the pointy teeth. He smiled again, his canines perfectly human-shaped. Despite the easy smile, his eyes remained guarded.
How could she have missed it? Adam was a freaking vampire.
Everything made sense now. His ageless skin. His seemingly inexhaustible energy. The lack of perspiration. Even her undeniable attraction to him. For centuries, the women in her family had become entangled with vampires, some sort of curse the Montgomery females suffered.
“I’ll be damned,” she whispered.
Adam straightened and reached for her. “What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Judging from the cemetery across the street, it was quite possible a spirit or two lingered around the mansion. But right now the only paranormal creature she was concerned with s
tood less than three feet away. “I’ve never seen one of you up close.”
“One of me?” He frowned. His accent grew more pronounced.
She lifted her hand and touched his arm. Curiously warm, as though blood still moved within his veins. Was it possible she was mistaken and he was merely human after all? Her fingertips tingled where their skin met. She had to be right. “You’re a vampire.”
He moved swiftly and clamped a hand over her mouth. “Are you crazy? You can’t go around blurting out nonsense.” He glanced around as if he were worried someone had overheard her.
She tugged his hand away. There was no one but them on the verandah. “It’s not nonsense. You should’ve told me.”
Resignation appeared. “And risk scaring you off?”
Why wasn’t she scared? She should be. Shouldn’t she? “My family has an odd sort of … history with vamps.”
“Really?” Disbelief colored his expression. “What sort of history?”
A blush tinged her cheeks. “I can’t believe I’m going to tell you this.” She put her hands over her eyes and winced. “Both my grandmother and great-grandmother had vampire lovers.”
“I’m intrigued. What happened to them?”
She lowered her hands and shrugged. “They ended up marrying normal men.”
“So, does this mean I have a shot with you after all?”
She chuckled at the hot look he sent her way. “Keep dreaming, Romeo.”
He moved closer. Bending down, he brushed a kiss across her cheek. “Why break with tradition? You know you want to.”
She did. She really, really did. And not just because he was a vampire. She wanted to know what it was like to be with him … with Adam.
Shaking off the lust swamping her, she glanced at the door they’d exited. “We should get back. Break is over.”
She turned to leave. Adam’s whisper of “Coward” haunted her.
Several hours later, long after the party guests had left, Eve lingered in the cage. The other dancers had collected their pay and left a few minutes before. A pink and gray dawn peeped through the windows. It was time for her to go, but she sat in the cage and examined the torn half of the card she’d been given. The Star. The image was of a kneeling woman grasping two water urns. Supposedly the card’s meaning offered hope or possibility. Speaking of possibility…
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