by Taft, J L
Nervousness assailed her. She couldn’t remember the last time she had a man in her bed when she woke. She had safely moved them on their way long before the sun rose.
“Morning.” His voice was thick and rough and he reached out to roll her on him. Straddling his hips, she smiled down at him, waiting for him to make the next move.
Trent couldn’t believe it but she was even more gorgeous this morning. Waking up next to a woman who looked better in the daylight was something he honestly couldn’t say had happened to him before. Usually after the effects of the alcohol wore off and the excitement of a first encounter was gone he found that women were different when the sun came up than they were the night before. He normally liked to be up and gone before the awkwardness of the break of day came along.
He was very thankful he had been too exhausted to do anything but throw his arms around her and sleep. Otherwise he would have missed this.
He looked his fill of her in the morning light, her high, firm breasts and pale-pink nipples. Her golden-red curls caught the sun and turned to fire around her face, and her dark-brown eyes stared back at him, letting him take his time looking.
Last night had been amazing. He would remember it, and her, for a long time to come. Gazing into her eyes, he did notice one thing about her that he had only touched on the night before.
She held herself back. She may let it all go in the throes of passion but otherwise she held herself in check. She was never going to let him get any closer than she wanted him to be.
He suddenly wondered what it would be like if she did let it all go, with him. He had a feeling it would be worth climbing the walls she had erected around herself.
Her tits kept drawing his gaze back to them and he reached to pinch her small nipples. They hardened and stood at attention, just waiting for his tongue. Her head rolled back and her long hair brushed his thighs, making him harder.
He fumbled with another condom and smiled up at her when he heard her chuckle.
Not wanting to wait another second, he gripped her hips and slid home in her wet, waiting body. She was so tight he wanted to come right then but he couldn’t bring himself to disappoint this woman who had given him the best sexual encounter of his life.
Rocking his body, he groaned when she ground herself on him, taking him deeper. Filling his hands with her tits, he busied himself massaging and tweaking her nipples as she rode him, slowly at first and then harder and faster until he flipped her on her back and plunged into her.
“Yes!” she moaned up at him, urging him on and meeting his thrusts. She dug her fingernails into his back, the pain only making his pleasure more intense. He felt her tighten and squeeze, sending him over the edge and making him come deep inside her.
Rolling onto his back next to her, breathing heavy, he let his thoughts wander. She seemed to love sinking her nails into his back and she liked it when he pulled her hair. Maybe next weekend he could get her to try some of the other things he wanted to do. Like tying her to the bed or spanking her perfectly rounded ass.
The thoughts made him hard again and he sat up just as his stomach growled in hunger. He heard her giggle as she got up to slip on a dark-blue silk robe. “Hungry, big boy?”
“It seems that our activities have left me with an appetite,” he told her as he laced his fingers behind his head and watched her move about the room.
“I guess I will have to feed you. Go ahead and take a shower if you want, I’ll meet you in the kitchen.” She lightly trailed a finger down his chest but he caught her hand.
“Don’t do that unless you’re ready for another round.”
She smiled at him but moved away, giving him his answer. He watched her until she was out of sight and then he heaved himself out of bed and headed for her shower.
Fiona needed to distance herself from him for a few minutes. She liked all of this a little too much and she didn’t want to set her heart up for pain. Even if he didn’t mean to he would cause her hurt if she let him get too close.
Leaving the sexy man in her bedroom, she went down to make them some breakfast. Taking out a skillet, she fried some bacon and then started some eggs. The smell of the food made her realize how hungry she was as well.
Deciding to make toast too, she flitted about the kitchen getting dishes out and minding the stove. If things were out of reach she didn’t stop to think about holding out her hand and the spatula floating across the room to land in it. She was too caught up in the memories of last night.
But it all came rushing back when she heard the shocked, “What the fuck?” behind her. She whirled around and saw the confusion on Trent’s face. He was still damp from the shower and was wearing nothing but his jeans. Taking a deep breath and turning back to the stove, she tried to stay calm and act as if nothing had happened, even if her heart felt as though it were going to pound out of her chest.
“Fiona?” She didn’t turn at the question in his voice. She felt him come closer and she moved to slide eggs and bacon onto plates. Turning to hand him one, she kept her gaze averted. She didn’t want to see the questions swirling in his eyes that she couldn’t answer.
“Here you go, eat up before it gets cold.” She went to the breakfast nook beside the windows and sat, taking a bite of her food, struggling to act normal when really she was so nervous her insides were shaking. This was exactly why she used the spell.
He stood for a moment and she could feel his intent stare. He suddenly seemed to come to a decision and sat down across from her. She felt his eyes on her and when he finally picked up his fork to eat she breathed a sigh of relief. She was hoping he would just let it go. Most would and she mentally kicked herself for not being more careful.
He finished his food and pushed his plate away. “So are you going to tell me about your little kitchen trick?” Damn, she really didn’t want to talk about this and she suddenly had a hard lump in her throat.
She knew what she had to do. She had done it before but it didn’t hurt any less.
“I’m not sure what you are talking about,” she told him but he remained quiet. “Unfortunately I don’t think our little tryst can go any further than last night,” she blurted out.
He still just sat there quietly, his intense gaze searching her face for something she hoped he would never find.
“Look, I can see that you aren’t used to letting people get close but I want an explanation,” he demanded.
“What makes you think I owe you anything? My business is just that, my business. I think it’s time that you left.” Keeping her voice even around the lump that was clogging it was a challenge but she thought she did okay. She blinked rapidly to keep the tears at bay. What was wrong with her? Almost blubbering all over herself after one night with a man? It must be getting on to that time of the month.
She braced herself for the anger he would surely release but it never came. He stared at her carefully for a few more seconds and then rose from the table. Heading for the door, he picked up his rumpled t-shirt that was still lying there from the night before. Slipping his feet into his boots and not bothering to tie them up, he reached for the handle.
She saw him hesitate and then turn back to her. “I thought that I had been leading a lonely life by not letting my emotions get involved but you have me beat by a long shot.” With that puzzling comment he closed the door behind him and walked out of her life. She told herself it was better this way, that he had seen too much, but the tears flowed freely down her cheeks anyway.
Chapter Four
Trent walked back toward the bar where he had left his bike the night before, channeling his anger into his steps. He had gone several blocks before he realized he hadn’t had a woman get to him like this since… Well, never. No woman had ever gotten under his skin so effectively in so short a time. He lived by the love-’em-and-leave-’em policy, rarely ever spending more than one night with a woman.
She was gorgeous, no doubt about that, and she had a body that was made for lovi
ng. Her hair was a glorious mass that drew him like a moth to a flame. It was an unusual color, a color he had only seen on one other person in his life. His grandmother’s best friend, Eleanor.
He stopped dead in his tracks as childhood memories came to him, rolling over each other and exploding behind his eyes. Lost memories of spending weekends with his grandmother and Eleanor, of helping in the garden and playing in the woods behind the house, of the conversations between them that would suddenly die when he came within earshot.
Then other things came to him, such as how his granny opened doors with her hands full without touching them. The television switching off when she deemed it time for him to sleep, even if she had been in the other room. He never thought those things had been odd, they had just been normal. How could he have forgotten?
Eleanor had been his granny’s closest friend for as long as he could remember. Granny had written him when Eleanor had died last year but he had been away on an assignment and couldn’t make the funeral. But her hair had been the same flaming red as Fiona’s. Add to that her little trick this morning in the kitchen and he figured there had to be a connection.
He wasn’t sure what he was going to do about it but first things first, he needed to talk to his granny. Pulling out his cell phone, he dialed her number and waited while it only rang half a ring before it was answered.
“Trent, dear, how are you?” Her voice hadn’t changed at all and he smiled.
“I’m fine, Granny, how are you?”
“I’m wonderful, but don’t bother with the small talk. Go ahead with your questions.”
He was silent for a moment. Her uncanny knack to get right to the heart of the matter had always been brushed aside by his family. They all thought her to be a little off her rocker. But that was why he loved her so. She didn’t care what others thought and had always walked her own path. She had inspired him to do the same.
“I’m not sure where to begin.”
“You’ve met her, haven’t you?” The question was quiet.
“Who?” She couldn’t possibly be talking about Fiona.
He heard a deep sigh on the other end. “I think it’s time that we had a little talk, Trent, when can you come?”
Since he didn’t have a job and had just planned on going home, there was no time like the present. “Today, I’m on my way.”
“I’ll be waiting.” She disconnected first and a sense of foreboding stole over him. What had that been about? Now he had more questions instead of answers and he wasn’t going to just let it ride. Jogging the rest of the way to the bar, he got on his custom-made dark-blue-and-chrome motorcycle and headed for his granny’s.
As soon as the engine roared to life he felt better. It was always like that with his bike. It was his favorite possession and the one he had no problem lavishing time and money on. The motorcycle was reliable and never caused him to have confusing thoughts, unlike a certain redhead who had come slamming into his life.
* * * * *
Fiona spent the rest of the day telling herself it was silly to be so upset over a man whom she had only known for the span of twelve hours. But no matter how much she wanted to believe it, it wasn’t true. It had hurt to send him on his way.
Suddenly the house was too quiet and she roamed around restlessly. With nothing better to do and her mind pleading for something to keep busy, she went in to write. She might as well start another book. Her editor would be pleased at least, even if her heart wasn’t in it.
It took her a while to get into it but then the words began to pour out and her fingers flew over the keyboard of her laptop. It was a different story than what she normally wrote, a tale of love and hatred, a battle of wills and a stubborn man. No vampires and no killing.
It was good and the story consumed her. She wrote long into the night. After sleeping halfway through the next day she wrote some more. The days slid together and she did okay holding her thoughts of Trent at bay, when she was awake anyway.
Otherwise her dreams were filled with him and what terrified her most was that they weren’t all sexual. In some of them they simply sat together in her breakfast nook and she didn’t have to hide herself away from him. She dreamed she used her skills in front of him and he simply smiled at her and reached out to take her hand.
Shaking it off, she went back to her writing and lost herself in it once again but when she closed her eyes to picture the male character only Trent’s face would show itself.
* * * * *
Trent made great time to the little town his grandmother lived on the outskirts of. His apartment was only a little more than a half hour away but he didn’t see Granny much. He pulled into her long dirt driveway and a smile split his features. He had always loved it here. The trees closed in overhead and blocked out some of the sun. The birds made a chorus of sounds around him when he shut off his bike.
He wasn’t surprised to see her standing on the porch waiting for him. She was small but sturdy and wore her hair in a no-nonsense knot at the base of her neck. If it was grayer than he remembered, it was the only part of her that had seemed to change.
He would come and see her more often now that he was discharged, he promised himself.
“Come on in.” She turned and went into the house, a large orange-and-white cat following close at her heels.
Following behind her, he stopped at the open screen door. As he stepped through it, it closed behind him. Maybe he was losing his mind.
He followed her to the kitchen where she ordered him to sit and then she put a glass of lemonade in front of him.
She sat down across from him and folded her arms on top of the scarred wooden table. He couldn’t help but look back at the screen door that had stood open for him. When he met his grandmother’s clear, green eyes they were narrowed at him and he wondered what he had done. He remembered that look too well from childhood.
“Look, Granny, I just need some answers.”
“I have a feeling that you aren’t going to be asking the right questions. I think I will start at the beginning so that you will be sure to understand.”
He nodded and knew she would do this her own way or no way at all.
“I see that you have noticed something about me that I’m sure you have many memories to support. I’m just going to put it out there. I’m a natural witch. A telekinetic natural witch.” He started to interrupt but she held up a hand. “Let me finish. I was born with this, I didn’t sell my soul to the devil to acquire it and I have lived with the secret for many years. I’m only telling you now because it may prevent you from making the biggest mistake of your life.”
“And what would that be?” He saw her eyes narrow and he was suddenly afraid he was missing something big. He felt as if he should know what it was but somehow it seemed just out of reach.
He was trying to decide if she was pissed at him or maybe just trying to figure something out. Unexpectedly she jumped from her seat and moved to one of the overflowing bookshelves that lined her living room. She pulled a relatively new book from the shelf and brought it over to the table with her. It was one he recognized, one that was on his own bookshelf at his small apartment.
It was one of his favorites. He had read it several times and others that had been written by the same author. He couldn’t guess what she was trying to get across when she dropped it on the table and looked at him expectantly. It was about an underworld of vampires and a warrior woman who hunted them.
He sat quietly, not sure what she expected of him. “Do you know this book, Trent?”
He hesitated, not sure how it mattered one way or the other. “I’ve read it.”
She heaved a sigh and pushed the book across the table to him. Opening the cover, she pointed to the write-up about the author and the picture accompanying it. He felt the air leave his lungs in a rush. It was Fiona.
She did say she was a writer and she never did tell him what she wrote. He loved this series of books. The strong, beautiful vampire hunter sear
ched out her revenge for the man she had loved and lost. They had a lot of action and after the heroine had lost her husband her sexual exploits were intriguing to say the least.
That meant he had spent the night having the most amazing sex of his life with his favorite author. While that was an exciting thing to think about he still didn’t understand why his grandmother was staring at him, waiting for him to say something.
“Okay, so I met her. Care to explain to me what the hell is going on?”
“Trent, you already know what’s going on.”
Irritation tensed his muscles. Through gritted teeth he said, “Granny, explain yourself! And quit speaking in riddles, you know I hate that!”
“All right, all right. Don’t get your boxers in a twist.” She raised her eyes to his. “Do you remember Eleanor?”
“Yeah, you two spent a lot of time together when I was a kid.”
“Fiona is her granddaughter and the stories Fiona writes are about Eleanor and her adventures.”
“Really? So you’re telling me that there are really vampires and that your friend Eleanor was a hunter?”
“Why is that so hard to believe? I’m a witch and so was she. Granted Eleanor had a different kind of specialty but she was a witch nonetheless. Just like Fiona.”
“Fiona is a witch? Like a real witch?” he asked in shock.
“Yes, like a real witch. Don’t be stupid, Trent, you know I hate that,” she said with a small, knowing smile.
“So even if I did believe in all of this, what does it have to do with me?”
She reached out to take his hand and said, “Trent, you and Fiona are destined to be together, soul mates if you want a name for it.”
“And you know this how?” She couldn’t be serious. It was crazy to think like that.
“When Fiona was a baby Eleanor brought her here to meet us. You were about three. You stood staring at her for the longest time and then you looked at me and said, “Granny, I’m going to marry her someday.” I wouldn’t have thought anything about it but Eleanor’s gift was to see things that most don’t. She saw the connection between you two and it was as strong as the connection between her and the husband she lost.”
