by Brenna Lyons
Beth unbuttoned her blouse and hiked it off her shoulders, her expression uncertain. He unbuttoned the first button on his shirt, searching her face for any sign that she didn’t want him to proceed. He paused, then undid the next two and dragged both the buttoned shirt and t-shirt over his head.
She touched his chest, seemingly committing him to memory...or comparing him to what she already knew. He hoped the comparison would be a favorable one.
She just wants love play, he reasoned. Though he ached for more, it was unlikely that she was willing to let him take release fully with her...or more.
Beth reached for the hooks on the back of her bra. He circled his arms around her, kissing her as he accomplished the task.
He trailed his lips down her chin and throat, groaning aloud as she lay back over the arm of the couch, offering her breasts. James sucked at one, then the other, tasting her, reveling in her grip on his shoulders and the way she arched up for more.
“Please,” she begged. Her hands nudged at his shoulders, not away from her but down.
James explored her ribs and abdomen, tasting the salt of new sweat on her skin. He paused at her jeans. She tipped her hips up, an inarticulate sound of longing giving him leave to proceed. If this was what she wanted, he would gladly comply, even if this was all she wanted and though he felt certain that not completing what they’d started would be torture for him.
Her musk was pungent, drugging his senses. The next few minutes passed in a haze of tasting her skin as he stripped the last of her clothing away. James licked at the rich honey coating her inner thighs, smiling as she draped one leg over his lap and the other over his shoulder, opening herself for more.
He teased her, stroking his tongue and lips up her thighs while she pulled at him, seeking to draw him in. She choked out a cry when he obliged her, her breathing announcing her rocketing ascent toward climax. He slowed, savoring every reaction, guiding her toward her pinnacle.
She shattered, her hands dragging up at him while moans escaped her lips. James captured her lips, and she responded in a fever. Beth pulled his jeans open and started pushing them away, her hands quaking lightly.
He went still. “Are you sure?” He wouldn’t do this unless she was. He wouldn’t convince her to it.
“Yes, James. Believe me, I know what I want.”
That reminder seared him, but her husband was a former life, not a competitor for her affections. Beth had called him by name; she knew who she was with and wanted him. James intended to make the experience unforgettable for her.
Duty intruded, and he sensed her, reaching automatically for one of the condoms in his jacket. She watched it roll down his length, seemingly shocked.
James stroked his fingertips over her cheek. “I would never risk you,” he assured her.
He smiled at her amazement. This went deeper than the rules of sanction. The babies were too young to risk her to another pregnancy. Carrying twins and single motherhood had taxed her system to its limits, and the few weeks of decent food and reduced physical load were not enough to replenish what she’d lost. If she became his mate, Beth would be in pristine health before he’d give her the choice of carrying his sons.
She nodded, her gaze settling on his cock, pleading silently for him to continue. Her hands traced his body, touching, testing, driving him near mad. She guided him in by his buttocks.
He resisted her pull, sliding in slowly, watching her eyes widen in rising concern. She was tight, amazingly so considering the fact that she’d delivered children. Perhaps it was the time without a man that had accomplished it.
“Dear Syth,” he breathed. He forced his eyes to stay open, relaxing only when she pulled him deeper and showed no signs of distress or pain. “If I hurt you—”
“No. Please,” she gasped.
James glided in to the hilt, capturing her squeal of delight in his mouth, praising the fact that her five feet eight allowed him to do so with little difficulty. He went still, listening for the girls, certain that she’d shy from him if they woke. He thanked Syth, Ani, and Tes alike that they slept on.
He slid back, then in again, their kiss less restrained. As if the storm broke, the rest was a blur of touching and tasting, moving bodies and whispers. When the end came, James muted his cry and hers with it. Slow, deep kisses followed and then the soothing brush of fingertips.
Finally, Beth’s breathing was deep and measured. Her hands settled at his hips, no longer roaming.
James eased out of her, hiking his jeans to low on his hips. He smiled at her peaceful expression, sated, her lips thoroughly kissed. He lifted Beth into his arms and carried her to bed. James hesitated, then pulled the blankets over her and went to the bathroom to clean up a bit and dispose of the condom.
He stood over her and considered his next move carefully. There was no way he could conscience leaving her. Though Beth hadn’t invited him to stay the night, he wouldn’t allow her to wake alone and wondering if this was all that mattered to him.
A questioning gurgle solidified his plan. James turned to the cribs and scooped the two wide-awake girls to his chest, biting back a laugh. Joining Beth in bed would be presumptuous. Caring for her daughters, bedding them down in the main room, and allowing Beth to sleep would make his meaning clear.
Chapter Seven
Saturday, December 16th, 1978
Beth sighed, snuggling under the blankets. She smiled, phantom memories of James’s touch dancing over her nerves. Some prudent portion of her mind argued that she should be ashamed of herself. If her mother were alive to see this, Beth would be disowned in a heartbeat.
I deserve some enjoyment! There was never money for dinners out and movies. There were no grandparents to allow her a quiet picnic in the park.
But a fling?
Plenty of women did it, of course. They’d been responsible. A chance like this would likely never come again. Few men were looking for an entanglement with a woman with two small children.
She sobered. It was unlikely that James wanted a long-term relationship either, and their affair would have to end before the girls were old enough to understand...or to form a bond with him. In many ways, she’d been lucky that Ethan had died before they knew him.
Beth yawned and opened her eyes, staring at the clock, trying to force the blur from her vision. She blinked in disbelief. It couldn’t be nearly noon! The girls— She scrambled from the bed and to the cribs, gasping, her heart pounding at the sight of the crumpled blankets and no babies beneath them. He wouldn’t!
A happy squeal followed by a masculine chuckle reassured her that he hadn’t taken her daughters far. She relaxed her death grip on the crib side, forcing her heart to slow to a natural rhythm.
I’m being ridiculous. Hadn’t she just complained that she had no time to herself? James had given her a wonderful gift, a chance to sleep as she hadn’t since the girls had been born. Though they usually slept through the night these days, there was always housework to be done or some other chore that meant she couldn’t really sleep when they did.
A smile curved her lips. She should thank him properly for what he’d done for her.
Beth pulled her hope chest open and dug out the silk robe Ethan had bought her for their first—their only anniversary. He’d given her the robe; she’d given him a silver watch and the news that she carried the children he’d never seen. He’d been killed three months later by a desperate young man—for ten dollars and the watch.
She pushed away the gloom and pulled on the pine-scented silk. Ethan was dead. Whether he’d approve of James or not was immaterial. He certainly wouldn’t want her constantly worn and working either, no matter what small pleasure she carved out for herself.
She padded out to the kitchen, stopping in the doorway and watching James in amazement.
He sat there in nothing but his jeans, chuckling and feeding spoonfuls of oatmeal to the girls. It was so warm and cozy that she found herself smiling.
No. It wouldn’t las
t. It was like a Norman Rockwell print, a slice captured in time that never comes again. Still, who would have thought a vampire hunter would be caught dead feeding a baby? And, he looked so comfortable doing it.
“Now,” James crooned. “We’ve let your Mommy sleep in. We’ve had food and baths and gotten dressed. What would you two say to a nap in the car and shopping for Christmas dresses?”
Beth felt her face heat. “You know I’m here. Don’t you?”
“Of course.”
“I don’t have—”
“Car seats for the girls?”
“You do?” she asked weakly.
“Don’t worry. I didn’t buy them. I borrowed seats from one of my brothers. He and his wife have no little ones at the moment...and no plans for more that I know of, so they won’t be needing them back anytime soon.”
“Good.” She examined her relief in confusion. What did it matter if he’d bought seats? With his money, it wasn’t a sign of anything significant. Maybe that scared her in itself.
“Then you’ll come to lunch and for some Christmas shopping?” he asked cautiously, as if he’d scented her attack of nerves. “After all, you said you’d planned to do it today.”
She weighed the idea of him leaving against the certainty that he’d end up having sex with her again if she invited him to stay. Either option carried a certain amount of discomfort for her, but the up side of each...
Be reasonable! I came out here, intent on seducing him again. Why would I want him to leave?
Because he was asking for things she hadn’t expected him to ask for? Because he was doing things she hadn’t? It was a weak reason to send the man packing, when everything he was doing was so overwhelmingly positive.
“Yes. I’ll need a shower first, though.”
James raked his gaze over her, and her body responded to the promise in his expression.
“The girls can nap just as well here,” he suggested.
Beth nodded. “Yes. They can. Probably better, but they’ve never been in a car, so I don’t really know.”
As if agreeing, Michelle yawned deeply.
“Nap time,” James announced, lifting Michelle and then Melissa onto his hips and marching toward the bedroom.
She hesitated, searching her memory and imagination for the best way to drive James as crazy as she felt. It had been almost a year and a half for her, and James was so different than Ethan, that she felt as hopeless as a virgin.
A protest from the direction of the cribs, most likely Michelle, reminded her that she was anything but a virgin.
Beth untied the robe and let it slide aside, leaning against the counter. James sauntered back in, stopping with a jolt. His cock hardened while his gaze made a slow inventory. That was all it took to make her ache to have him back inside her.
“Stay there,” he rasped. James disappeared into the living room, returning moments later, nude.
He wrapped his hands around her waist, a sealed condom between them, lifting Beth to the counter. She parted her legs, allowing him to step between them. His mouth covered hers, his tongue delving inside as she opened for him. He was thorough, intense.
James pulled back, his eyes closed. “Do you want this?” he asked.
“Oh, yes.” More than she wanted anything in life at this moment.
He smiled. “I know you want...” His fingertips stroked at her clit. He captured her whimper in his mouth, then eased away. “Do you want me to take you here? On the counter?”
Beth pressed to him, needing exactly that, something wild, something hot.
The rip of foil announced his preparations. Then he was inside her in one smooth, deep thrust. His hands supported her, positioning Beth for his possession. Their moans and pleas wove a tapestry of pleasure.
And then he tensed, swallowing a cry as his heat rocked the teasing ripples of her body’s reaction into a wake of pounding waves.
For a moment, they held to each other, gasping for breath. Then a smile curved his lips.
“What are you planning?” she asked.
“Are you intent on shopping today?”
“Well... No. I suppose not. I prefer to get an early start when I do, especially this close to Christmas. Why?”
His lips caressed hers. “I’ll take you tomorrow, bright and early.”
“And today?”
His hungry look left no doubts as to his plans. Beth nodded, feeling abruptly lightheaded.
Chapter Eight
Sunday, December 17th, 1978
“Where are we going, James?”
His smile widened. So, she finally realized that he was taking her away from home. “I thought we’d stop by the manor house and let Michelle and Melissa play with the other children.”
“You’re taking us to meet your family?” she squeaked. Beth looked down at herself in seeming horror, smoothing her blouse.
James took her hand, kissing her knuckles. “Relax. You look beautiful.”
“What if they don’t approve—”
“It isn’t their place to approve or disapprove, and I’ve never seen them snub anyone that one of us cares for.”
She looked over her shoulder at Michelle, biting her lip lightly.
“They’ll love you...all of you. Trust me.”
She nodded, pulling her hand away and looking out the windshield. Beth didn’t demand that he turn around; that was a good sign, he supposed.
The house rose before them. Her mouth opened in an Oh of surprise, and her eyes widened. “My God... It’s...it’s enormous.”
“It’s full of family.”
“Full? That...” she sputtered.
“Well, there is room, but when most of them come in for the holidays, the size becomes necessary.”
He pulled the car up to the head of the drive and got out, flipping the seat forward. He scooped the diaper bag over his shoulder and lifted the sleeping princess onto his arm. Beth fell into step beside him as he rounded the car, Melissa peeking over the back of her shoulder.
The door opened before they reached it, and his mother rushed out, rising on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. Georgia’s eyes lit at the sight of Beth and the babies. “Oh, James,” she gushed, reaching for Michelle. She pulled her hands back sadly when she realized that the little girl was sleeping.
Beth shifted from foot to foot, then smiled widely, offering Melissa. “Would you like to hold her, Mrs. Armen?”
His mother blinked back what looked like tears, nodded, and accepted the baby. “What a baby doll.” She smiled at Beth. “It’s Georgia, dear. Please...make our home your own.”
She swallowed hard, nodding.
James ground his teeth in frustration. He’d hoped coming here would put Beth at ease, but it seemed to be having the opposite effect.
The house was milling with women and children, but none of the men were in evidence. That was unusual. Even men who’d hunted the night before would be awake and interacting with family by now. It was only a few hours until dinner, after all.
Georgia guided them to the library. James raised an eyebrow at that. Michelle had proven she could sleep through a ruckus when the younger boys saw new playmates. If she wanted a quiet place, she would have suggested a crib in one of the nurseries. It was almost as if she was conspiring to keep their guests out of sight. None of this made sense.
“Where’s Dad?” James asked, adding a look that requested an explanation to it.
Georgia placed Melissa on the rug, handing her a cookie from the tray Rachel brought in. She nodded to the doors, silently instructing them shut. Her voice was light, her smile tense. “Meeting with Carrick, the Warriors who were in residence today...and Corwyn Lord Hunter.”
James looked to the ceiling in dismay. Oh, dear Ani! I never would have brought them here if I’d known.
“James?” Beth asked in concern. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he lied, his mind spinning. Perhaps Georgia was right. If they stayed in the library, Corwyn might leave without seein
g them. Surely, one of the women was already passing the news to the Warriors to steer him clear.
“James,” she said sharply, demanding an answer.
“It’s all right, dear,” Georgia soothed her. “One of our other guests... He lost a wife and child recently and... Well, his daughter would be not much older than your girls are.”
Beth winced. “We should go.”
“No,” James and Georgia said together.
“No,” James repeated. “It will be all right. Corwyn will be leaving soon. He never stays longer than an hour or two.” He prayed it would be all right.
* * * *
Beth smiled, stifling a giggle at the ‘lesson’ in progress.
“Like this,” Tim piped up, handing the wooden dagger to Melissa. James’s nephew was a cute four-year-old who was the size of a typical seven year old.
Melissa wrapped her tiny hands around the hilt, and Tim released his prized possession to her.
“That’s right,” he urged her on.
The baby considered it carefully, then started to teethe on the edge. Tim sighed, but he let her continue.
Beth tried her best not to laugh, hoping not to offend the child-Warrior. James was less restrained. He howled in laughter, slapping his thigh with one big hand.
Melissa released her bite, smiling widely at his response. She squealed in delight, dropping the toy to clap her hands together.
The doors burst in, and a Warrior stepped into the room, standing over them, his hard eyes locking on Melissa. He took two steps toward her, coming to a halt as Beth scrambled to the floor and scooped her daughter up.
He met her eyes, and her heart hammered in fear. This man was crazy, and he wouldn’t hesitate to harm her, though she didn’t understand why. Was this the one who’d lost his daughter? Surely, he wasn’t unbalanced enough to think Melissa was his?
James appeared at her side, drawing Beth to her feet and stepping halfway in front of her. She started to transfer Melissa to the hip hidden by his body, but James grasped her arm, shaking his head. Her protest died out as James untied the bonnet and pulled it off Melissa’s head.
