FALL OF A BLOOD MOON

by Jodi Vaughn

  She was done with warnings. She was going to take what she wanted. Life was too short to hesitate.

  “Jaxon.” She said his name, then opened her mouth and licked the length of him.

  He growled and rested his hand on her head to draw her closer.

  After a few more torturous licks, she opened and filled her mouth with him.

  She sucked him deep, twirling her tongue along his erection. She didn’t use her hands, just her mouth.

  “Ahhhhh.” He threw back his head, and she could feel him tremble where she rested her fingertips on his hips. His breathing grew rapid.

  Pleasure shot through her core and soon she was aching to have him fill her between her legs. She looked up and met his heated gaze.

  “It feels too good,” was all he managed to say before she felt him lose control. She tightened her hold on his dick and his hips, sucking him as he spilled his release into her greedy mouth.

  She finally pulled away and looked up at him. He pulled her up to standing. He cupped her head and covered her mouth with his, kissing and tasting his own scent as he did.

  It turned her on even more.

  She clung to him as his hand went between her legs, circling her clit.

  “We’re nowhere near done, baby,” he whispered near her ear before sucking her lobe into his hot mouth. She shivered against him, and she thought she would explode before he made it in inside her.

  She felt his dick grow hard once again, straining and lengthening against her stomach. He wanted her as much as she wanted him.

  “I need to be inside you, now.” He looked into her gaze, awaiting her reply. She knew then, why.

  She’d lived under the abuse of a violent husband who took what he wanted with no conscience. Jaxon knew that she needed to be in control of this situation when it came to her body. He was letting her know that this had to be her decision to let him inside, both physically and emotionally.

  It shattered the veneer around her heart.

  “Yes.” She pulled his head down for another kiss, letting him know that she was choosing him and that she would always choose him. She’d never felt as much love as she felt for Jaxon Taylor.

  He swept her up in his arms and stood there for a moment just gazing at her with so much love her chest ached.

  “It might not be a honeymoon and champagne, but you will always own me, Ginny, my heart and my body.” His voice whispered through the old barn.

  He was trying to make this as special as their wedding night might have been years ago.

  A tear slipped down her cheek, and he bent his head to hers. She buried her face in the crook of his neck and hugged him tight.

  He knelt with her in his arms and gently placed her on the small blanket on the old wooden floor. He kissed her as he positioned himself between her legs. His erection, hard and insistent, nudged at her wet entrance, and she widened her legs to accommodate him.

  “Now, Jaxon,” she whispered against his ear.

  He thrust inside her, and she gasped as her body stretched. She was no virgin, but her husband wasn’t exactly a large man in that department. Jaxon, on the other hand, had been blessed by the genital gods. Very, very blessed.

  He looked down, worry in his eyes.

  She pressed the pad of her finger to his lips, silencing any concerns before he voiced them.

  “Don’t you dare think of stopping. Not now. I’ve waited all this time for you. I want all of you,” she whispered.

  He grinned, male pride stretching across his handsome face. He pressed his lips to hers, slowly moving his body against hers and thrusting in and out of her with precision and care.

  She moaned as his fingers found her hard nipple, and she clawed at his back when he kissed her neck. He’d always known how to touch her, fondle her, make her sigh. But they’d never actually made love. She’d wanted to save that for their wedding night.

  She’d been so wrong to wait. She’d wished a thousand times Jaxon had taken her virginity instead of John.

  But now, with his hands on her body and his mouth on hers, all off those thoughts and regrets disappeared like vapor. He was slowly replacing all her regrets with faith and hope in their new future together. A future that in that moment seemed like a strong possibility.

  “I’m going to come home to you every night and make love to you like this.” He spoke as he thrust, his eyes dark with desire and his voice husky. “You are not getting away from me again. You’re mine, and no one is taking you away from me again.”

  “Yes,” she murmured as pleasure stretched across her sensitive flesh. She dug her fingertips into his shoulders and bit down on his neck.

  He growled and moved faster, thrusting deep and powerful within her wet heat. Their bodies, slick with sweat, strained and clung to each other. She hungered for him.

  Pleasure streaked and built. Promises hung in the dark night, and hope swelled within their tiny barn.

  He lifted his head, and in the dim light of the solar lamp, their gazes met. In the small space of time before climax threatened to pull her under and yearning crescendoed, her heart fluttered in her chest.

  “Jaxon.” This time when she came she whispered his name, promising to be his from that day forward.

  * * *

  Jaxon couldn’t take his eyes off Ginny as she slept against his chest. They’d made love for the first time in a barn that was about to fall down.

  It was perfect.

  And it was more than he’d hoped for.

  He had found his second chance. With someone he thought had abandoned him.

  He wasn’t going to let her slip through his fingers a second time. This time, he was going to hold on good and tight.

  This time, they were going to make it.

  * * *

  Jaxon swiped against the buzz against his head. He hated mosquitoes, and he hated being woken up from sleeping up next to Ginny.

  When the buzz didn’t go away, he swiped harder. His hand landed on something hard and plastic. He blinked open his drowsy eyes and realized it wasn’t a bug but his cell phone ringing.

  He quickly disentangled himself from Ginny’s arms and legs with regret and answered the phone.

  “Hello?”

  “Jaxon, what the fuck took so long? You in the middle of something?” Lucien’s tone was gruff.

  “Please tell me you have good news from Lorcan.” He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and blinked a few times.

  “I finally got a message back from him.”

  “So did you actually talk directly to him?” He didn’t have time to play telephone. He needed answers and directions. Lorcan was going to have to be his inside intel to get out of Louisiana in one piece.

  “I left a message, explaining things.”

  “Is that safe? Just leaving a message on his phone? I mean, who knows who else might get it? Or who might be bugging his phone?” He didn’t put it past Boudier to keep tight tabs on all his Guardians and his Assassins. Especially since he might suspect that Lorcan had helped them escape. He might be watching him harder than the others.

  “I left it in code.”

  “Code?”

  “Yeah. We used to use a code language when we were little. We could have a total conversation in front of our parents. They thought we were talking about girls or football. In reality, we were talking about sneaking out and stealing our neighbor’s car for a late-night ride down to New Orleans.”

  “And here I thought you were straitlaced in a wealthy family.” Jaxon snorted. He glanced down as Ginny stirred awake. She blinked and smiled. She sat up when she realized he was on the phone.

  “We lived out in the country. We got bored. Sue me.” Lucien snarked.

  “Since your family is filthy-ass rich, I’ll be sure to do that. But right now I need a way out of Louisiana and back into Arkansas.”

  “He says that your best bet is to leave now. While it’s raining. He says there is minimal security on the smaller roads. Boudier has rerouted the
majority of his men to the interstates and the highways. He suspects you’ll have to cross into Arkansas by the interstate because of the heavy rains.”

  Jaxon glanced out the window and scowled. The thunder and lightning had eased up, but it was still raining. He was not looking forward to riding with Ginny in this mess.

  “Okay. There’s a road a few miles from here where I can possibly cross. I’ve studied the map, and that’s the closest thing to us besides the interstate.”

  “Do that, then.” Lucien’s tone dropped. “Jaxon, you are running this by Barrett, right? I mean, he did tell you to have me get you hooked up with Lorcan?”

  Jaxon’s gut twisted. He hated lying, but he had to get Ginny back to Arkansas safe and sound.

  “Barrett told me to do whatever it took to get back to Arkansas. That includes talking to Lorcan.” Jaxon scrubbed his hand down his face. “Look man, when I get back home, I’m going to owe you big time for this.”

  “Nah. Besides, you were there in New Orleans helping me get out. We’re Guardians. It’s what we do.” Lucien ended the call before Jaxon could respond.

  “Is everything okay?” Ginny pulled her knees up to her chin and looked at him with wide eyes.

  His head nearly exploded with the love he felt for the woman in front of him. He’d never loved anyone as much he loved her.

  “I’ve got good news and bad news.” He cocked his head.

  “What’s the good news?” She arched her perfect eyebrow and studied him.

  “We have a way out of Louisiana and back into Arkansas.”

  “And the bad news?” She bit her lip.

  “We have to leave now.” He glanced over his shoulder and out the window at the rain pelting the glass. “And we have to ride in this.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Edward Boudier sat behind his elaborate gold desk and listened to the current updates from his Guardians as to the whereabouts of his worthless daughter and that fucking Arkansas werewolf she was with. His Guardians had never been inside his office before. He could smell their fear filling the room.

  None of them knew about the call he’d gotten only a few minutes ago from a particular witch from Yazoo City who was proving to be quite an asset. He usually didn’t fuck with witches, but this one was going to prove very useful indeed.

  He picked up the crystal glass of sherry and swirled the garnet liquid, watching it change colors in the light.

  “What do you mean, you lost sight of them?” He continued to gaze into his glass. This was no ordinary glass. It had come all the way from France in the 1900s when his ancestors had settled in New Orleans.

  “Sir, we’ve continued to monitor the roads and interstates. We’ve had no sign of Jaxon trying to cross into Arkansas. It’s probably the rain that’s keeping him off the roads somewhere until this weather clears up.” Manny’s voice droned like the buzzing of cicadas.

  “Tell me, Manny.” He lifted his gaze and looked around his office, which was filled with priceless paintings, ancient artifacts, and swords from countries all around the world. “If you were on the run, would what would you do?”

  Boudier let the silence fill the room. He knew his other Guardians were waiting for Manny’s response. He knew they were waiting to see what he was going to do to Manny if he gave the wrong response. He also knew that though they were loyal, they were also scared of him. And that was how he kept control of his state and control of his wolves. Keeping them scared to keep them loyal.

  “If I were on the run, I would…”

  He stood from his desk and held up his hands, silencing Manny. Tension thickened in the room like a good New Orleans roux.

  “Tell me, Manny. If you were on the run from me. What would you do?”

  Manny blinked and then spoke. “I would continue trying to find a way to pass into Arkansas.”

  Boudier smiled. “Would the rain stop you? Would you take the time to stop and find some romantic spot to hide away with my daughter while you fucked her into oblivion?”

  “No, sir.”

  He narrowed his eyes on Manny, anger sparking like a match in his gut. “Are you saying my daughter is not fuckable?”

  “No sir, I didn’t imply…” Manny’s eyes grew wide and he cleared his throat.

  “Are you saying that you want to fuck my daughter?” Boudier growled. Sometimes these Guardians were fucking animals. Unable to control their urges and lusts.

  “No, sir.” Manny shook his head furiously and held his hands up and bowed his head. “I would never disrespect you or your daughter like that.”

  He cut his eyes from Manny to study the audience in the room. He knew they were waiting to see his response.

  “What about you, Brutus?” He cocked his head at his lead Assassin. Brutus looked like he belonged in the military with his buzz cut, black fatigues, and no-bullshit attitude.

  “I am trained to track down and execute. That is my job, and it’s my only job.” Brutus met his gaze with steely-eyed determination.

  “I see. So you don’t have time to fuck.” He nodded approvingly. “I like that. I like that a whole lot.”

  He turned his attention to Killian, his other Assassin. “Killian, what about you? I’m awaiting your answer with bated breath.”

  “I am an Assassin. I’ve taken vows to uphold any order that you give. Like my brother Brutus, execution is my job.”

  Boudier cut his eyes over at Lorcan. He walked the room until he stopped right in front of his third Assassin. He smirked and pointed his finger in Lorcan’s direction. “Lorcan. Same question.”

  “Sir, I, like my fellow Assassins, am trained to kill. I don’t have time to fuck anyone,” Lorcan deadpanned.

  Boudier broke out into a smile. “As usual, I’m not disappointed by your smart-ass mouth, Lorcan.” He slapped the Assassin on his back and leaned in. He measured his next words carefully before he spoke. “Let’s not forget that those who betray me face the cruelest punishment imaginable. Worse than death.”

  Lorcan didn’t blink, nor did he flinch. That meant the Assassin was on the up and up and hadn’t been behind Lucien’s escape. Or maybe Lorcan was a really, really, really good liar.

  Whichever it was, Boudier was going to find out.

  He stepped back and walked back over to his desk. He picked up his glass of sherry and took a sip. He stepped back in front of Manny and held out the glass to the Were. “Drink?”

  “No, sir.” Manny’s eyes grew wide. “I’m on duty and not worthy of such expensive liquor.”

  “Go on. Take it. I insist.” He shoved it in Manny’s chest, forcing the Guardian to take it.

  Manny held it out and blinked.

  “Try it.” He ordered.

  Manny lifted the glass to his lips and took a sip. The Were winced slightly but covered it up and fixed a neutral expression on his face.

  “A lot of people don’t like sherry. It’s more of an after-dinner drink. Or served in the afternoon with cookies.” He smiled. “I know in Charleston they serve it like that. With cookies. It’s a genteel sort of thing that I like to keep alive. I am very fond of traditions. It’s what separates us from the animals, so to speak.” He smiled and looked to his audience of Guardians.

  “Look around my room, gentlemen. Everything in my office has value.” He pointed to the painting to his left. “That painting right there is from a famous artist in France. I paid over twenty thousand dollars for that piece.” He turned and nodded at the tablets that looks as if they were made out of cement. “And that. That right there was discovered in a pyramid in Egypt. In the pharaoh’s tomb.”

  He walked over to the wall where his most prized swords hung. “And here. Right on my wall near my desk. Swords from every country.” He ran his finger along the tip of a Samurai sword. Blood welled and dripped from his finger onto the floor.

  “It’s sharper than any sword you will ever find. Enough pressure, and it will take my finger clean off my hand.” He cocked his head and popped his finger i
n his mouth, sucking the coppery blood from the tip.

  “Why do you think I keep these things?” He waited for a response, but no one said a word.

  “Give up? I’ll tell you.” He waved his hand around the room at all the items he’d just discussed.

  “You see, everything in here has value, whether it’s a painting, an artifact, or a sword. It holds value.” His gaze landed on Lorcan. “Even my Assassins hold value because they carry out a special function. They’re probably my favorite objects in the room.”

  He had to hand it to Lorcan. The Were didn’t flinch or break eye contact.

  He took the sword and walked over to Manny and touched the metal to the middle of the Guardian’s chest. Not hard enough to break the skin—just enough pressure to let him know he was there.

  “Tell me, when should I expect Jaxon captured and my daughter returned to me?” He cocked his head.

  Manny swallowed.

  “Before dawn, sir.” A bead of sweat rolled down his temple and bled into his T-shirt.

  “Well then, I suppose you all should get going. He’s not going to get caught with all you assholes standing around here holding your dicks.” He snatched the glass out of Manny’s hand and tossed it against the fireplace. The crystal broke into a thousand shards. It was going to be a bitch to get out of the carpet.

  Everyone in the room turned and hurried to the door.

  “Except you, Manny,” he said slowly. “You stay.”

  Manny turned his wide eyes on him and looked around the room for some allies. What Manny didn’t know was that in the Louisiana Pack, there were no allies. Boudier had made sure of that.

  The best way to control his werewolves was to have their undivided loyalty to him and not to each other. Barrett Middleton was a weak and foolish leader to encourage his Guardians to rely on each other. All it did was make the Pack weak. A weak Pack wouldn’t bother to protect their Pack Master.

  That’s why he demanded complete loyalty to him. It ensured his survival. And the survival of his Pack.

  “Sir, I…” Manny swallowed and blinked so fast that he thought the Were was going to burst out in tears in front of him. Manny was a pussy. And he didn’t tolerate pussies.