Chapter One
Swan
The burning Texas
sun set over the distant hills in spectacular bursts of amethyst,
cardinal red, and tangerine while a warm breeze moved over my skin
like a caress. It was late summer nights like these, idyllic evenings
when laughter and the smell of cooking food filled the air, that made
me regret ever leaving the raw beauty of the Texas hill country. I
took a long pull from my cold beer and gazed across the yard to where
my amazing man, Smoke, stood talking with my good friend Indigo’s
parents, Ron and Bettie, an older Asian couple. They looked like a
couple of tie-die-wearing hippies that time had forgotten while Smoke
seemed all the more dark and dangerous standing with them, like some
kind of post-apocalypse War Barron…an apex predator. Except right
now he looked like an amused predator conversing with two earnest
chipmunks.
Ron and Bettie were
actually pretty sane for preppers, but they’d talk your ear off
about ‘the man’ if you gave them half a chance, and I wondered if
Smoke was perplexed or amused by them. I know Indigo thought they
were just batshit crazy; they drove her nuts with their ever evolving
list of people they swore were trying to kill them. Funny thing was,
the more you listened to them the more you started to believe that
their weird conspiracy theories might have a ring of truth to them.
Memories of nights
spent at Indigo’s compound flitted through my mind like sheets of
paper caught in a windstorm as the years peeled back. Ron and Bettie
were more than a little odd, but they treated me like one of their
own and were two of the few people I trusted on sight. They were
close with my parents and would often come over to play cards on our
big, screened-in back porch and laugh about the world going to hell.
A bolt of melancholy tightened my chest as I realized how much I
missed them…though right now I was far more interested in my man
than my friend’s parents.
Poor Smoke, he
actually looked like he was really thinking about what they were
saying with a slightly bemused smile curving his lips. Considering
Ron and Bettie were conspiracy theorists he was probably getting an
earful about the Vagrants, an evil political entity Ron and Bettie
believed was slowly taking over the world. That was why they’d
decided to stop watching cable TV. They swore mind control devices
had been implanted by the Vagrants inside of cable boxes and got all
their news off the Internet instead from websites of people who’s
wacked out political views made Ron and Bettie look sane.
Indigo had a touch
of their paranoia, but she was one of the best private investigators
in the country at twenty-one so maybe that wasn’t a bad thing.
I had to laugh at
myself as I watched my big, badass biker boyfriend talking with them
in their faded tie-dye clothing. I swear they were roughly half his
massive size, and his commanding presence made them seem even
smaller. Smoke’s fist was nearly as big as Ron’s head, and the
memory of those big hands on me sent rather pleasant sparks of
pleasure dancing through my body.
Yum.
From the top of his
head covered in curly black hair to his sexy feet—no, seriously,
the man even has gorgeous feet—he was one hundred percent mine. The
good and the bad. Sometimes I saw a hint of true darkness in him, the
dispassionate gaze of a killer, and it scared me and aroused me at
the same time. But if Smoke was the king of the jungle, I was his
queen, and I had a touch of darkness myself. We were an odd couple,
to be sure, but beneath our skin our hearts beat to the same savage
rhythm.
Even though my sex
was still sore from the hard fuck he’d given me last night I craved
him to the point where I planned on throwing myself on him and
tearing off his clothes the first second we were alone. When he’d
taken my virginity he woke a hunger in me that bordered on ravenous.
I wanted to devour him, to lock us away in my bedroom and make him
give me pleasure until I passed out. I knew how good those perfect,
full lips of his felt wrapped around my nipples and how his big hands
could hold my body still while he bit me with little stinging nips
that set my body ablaze.
He was just such a
big, solid man all over. Including his magnificent cock with the
piercing beneath the base that rested against his balls. A shiver
raced down my spine and settled between my hips as I imagined how
that wonderful bit of metal would hit my clit just right while
fucking doggy style. Another wave of heat sensitized my pussy and I
shifted, somehow drawing his attention to me past all the other
people at the big party to where I stood leaning against a tree and
watched the festivities around me..
When his dark gaze
met mine I swore the world hushed for a moment, nothing existed
except my pounding heart and his handsome face. The setting sun hit
his cheekbones and his bold, Aztec nose just right, turning him into
the living statue of a warrior. Without even trying he enchanted me
and my knees weakened to the point where I had to brace myself
against the tree. I was spellbound by his dark gaze, completely
ensnared by his raw, masculine beauty.
That was the only
way I could describe my feelings for him, that he wove some type of
magical enchantment over me that held me in ethereal bondage,
draining my will and replacing it with his. I gladly surrendered to
him, and my breath caught at the flare of passion between us as he
casually rubbed his lips while pretending to listen to Bettie yammer
on about the world ending.
Despite the fact
that I wore a pair of faded jeans and a black tank top with a pair of
my beat up old boots, he stared at me like I was nude and had been
rubbed down with oil, cranking my overwhelming arousal even higher. I
didn’t like getting turned on with my parents around—it was
weird—but at the same time, I loved the way the heat built between
us until I was melting with it. If he slipped his long, rough fingers
between my legs right now he’d find me slick with desire.
I had to tighten my
grip on my beer bottle, suddenly certain that it would slip from my
useless grip as my heart raced when he began to make his way across
the yard to me. Yelling children ran past him while people eating
burgers and ribs tried to get his attention, but he avoided the kids
and ignored the adults. His attention was focused totally on me and I
couldn’t help the goofy smile hurting my cheeks as he came closer.
Elation filled me and I took a step away from my tree, then another,
eager to bask in his presence like a cat in a patch of sunlight on a
cold winter day.
When Smoke gazed at
me like this I knew I was the center of his universe. He looked at me
in a way no one ever had, like I was more important than air and the
most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. I would never, ever get tired
of the way Smoke watched me. Putting a little swing in my hips I
stepped up beneath the green leaves of the old tree until the toes of
my battered cowboy boots were touching his black motorcycle boots.
The scent of summer filled the air around us, the sun-baked earth
mixing with the sharp spice of the fire and the sweet darkness of
barbeque. He smelled really, really good, a hint of sweat mixed with
sun-warmed skin and his soap. He’d actually brought a bar of his
personal soap with him and insisted on washing me with it when we
shared a shower this morning. He really, really got off on me
smelling like him. Not that I was complaining, being bathed by Smoke
was a decadent experience and one of the best ways in the world to
greet the day.
I looked up and
brushed a strand of hair from my face while we stared at each other
like love-besotted fools. Tonight I actually wore my high maintenance
hair down and loose at Smoke’s request. I was constantly moving it
off my face, which was annoying, but totally worth every bit of
irritation when Smoke ran his fingers through the long strands with a
look of pure satisfaction. He cupped my cheek, leaned down and rubbed
his nose along mine, then brushed a soft kiss over my lips. Even that
modest touch made my skin tingle, and I sighed against his mouth,
pressing my body against his even as I kept my hands at my side. If I
touched him I’d either grab his magnificent ass or run my fingers
through his dark, silken curls while hauling his mouth to mine in a
rather wanton display that would be totally inappropriate in front of
my neighbors.
The slightest hint
of his tongue brushed my lips and I groaned softly, stealing a taste
of him before he lifted his head and grinned down at me, still
stroking my cheek in a hypnotizing rhythm. I knew I was the only
person who ever got to see the soft, tender side of Smoke and I
relished his open affection for me. In the world of the Iron Horse
MC, where he was the Master at Arms for the founding chapter, Smoke
was feared, and with good reason. I’d witnessed him losing his
temper when we first met, and the pure rage he put off scared me.
Even back then he’d been oddly attuned to my every need and had
immediately calmed himself when he saw that his anger scared me.
“Hey, beautiful
baby,” Smoke said with a rough purr in his voice. “You tryin’
to get your daddy to shoot me?”
I laughed, very
aware of my father glaring at Smoke from where he sat at a picnic
table near the fire pit. A hint of unease moved through me; my dad
could very well be considering how to end the life of my much older
boyfriend. Or, as Smoke liked me to call him, my man. Even my dad’s
disapproval couldn’t quell the need coiling inside of me, and I
slipped my hands into Smoke’s and gave a soft squeeze. Out of the
corner of my eye, I watched Mimi sit down on my dad’s lap and he
glared at her for a second before his lips curved into a reluctant
smile and his eyes filled with warmth. They were true soul mates and
I was happy for them, happy to have been blessed with parents who
could show me what true love meant.
“No, I don’t
want my dad to shoot you. He might hit something important. Something
I really like.” I bumped my hips to his, the press of his big
erection against my body sending a shiver of electric desire down my
spine and straight to my clit. Fuck, knowledge was a dangerous thing.
Before Smoke I’d been totally inexperienced and I had no idea how
good sex could be. I have this issue with people touching me, a
sensory issue combined with a fear of strangers, and before Smoke I’d
never met a man who could touch me like he could. My body belonged to
him from the very start and I loved the way he made me feel.
It would be nice to
relax with Smoke, once we found my sister and my mom, then keep the
Mafia, the Russians, and the Los Diablos MC from killing me. Once
this was all over I wanted to spend a solid week in bed with Smoke,
fucking each other senseless. My body hummed with arousal and I
rubbed against him again, unconsciously seeking the relief I knew he
could give me, and the ability to escape my worries and fear that I
could only find in his arms.
His deep chuckle
vibrated against my breasts. “What naughty things are you thinking
about? Is it about my tongue in your pussy, or my cock?”
I frowned up at him,
trying to ignore the way my lady bits were now throbbing. Damn he had
a sexy ass voice, all deep and growly. Male, primal, hot. “How do
you know I’m thinking about sex?”
“Because you do
these long, slow bites on your lower lip when you’re getting turned
on. When I see those pretty white teeth sinking into one of my
favorite places to kiss I know you’re thinking about me touching
you. I could fuck you for days at a time, satisfy you until you don’t
know your own name, but now is not the time or place so stop being so
fuckin’ sexy. You’re killin’ me.”
I sighed and wrapped
my arms around his waist, resting my cheek against his chest with a
low sigh. “I was just thinking that it will be nice to go home when
this is over…and touching you.”
He made a happy
sound and pulled me tight against him, his arms solid as a tree
trunks wrapping around me and holding me close. “I can’t wait to
get you home either.”
Ann is Queen of the Castle to her
wonderful husband and three sons in the mountains of West Virginia.
In her past lives she's been an Import Broker, a Communications
Specialist, a US Navy Civilian Contractor, a Bartender/Waitress,
and an actor at the Michigan Renaissance Festival. She also spent a
summer touring with the Grateful Dead-though she will deny to her
children that it ever happened.
From a young age she's been
fascinated by myths and fairytales, and the romance that often was
the center of the story. As Ann grew older and her hormones kicked
in, she discovered trashy romance novels. Great at first, but she
soon grew tired of the endless stories with a big wonderful
emotional buildup to really short and crappy sex. Never a big fan of
purple prose, throbbing spears of fleshy pleasure and wet honey pots
make her giggle, she sought out books that gave the sex scenes in the
story just as much detail and plot as everything else-without using
cringe worthy euphemisms. This led her to the wonderful world of
Erotic Romance, and she's never looked back.
Now Ann spends her days trying to tune
out cartoons playing in the background to get into her 'sexy space'
and has learned to type one handed while soothing a cranky baby.
Something bad has happened in Dusky Beach, and Rita Deltone, a tough
talking waitress from Lemon Run, Florida, is smack in the middle of it.
Waking in a hospital with a bandage on her head and her hands tied to
the bed can't be good. Yet, she knows all too well the dirt road she
took to get down so low and doesn't mind taking the long way around in
the telling.
