Dual Release

by Tara Nina

  Gently he stroked the back of her head and wished she didn’t feel so phenomenal in his arms. His eyes widened when she placed tender kisses to his neck, then his chin and lastly connected with his mouth. Somewhere in the back of his mind a little voice was screaming, The lass be in distress. This no be the time for sex. Comfort her. But his body wasn’t listening.

  Dour increased the firmness of his lips to hers, sucking her tongue and enjoying her flavor. He knew he should stop but couldn’t. Part of him wanted to know if his shaft still functioned. After all, it’d been quite a long time, if his having been cursed was to be believed.

  Jenny broke from the kiss and frantically pulled off her shirt. When she reached behind her and unhooked the silky piece of clothing binding her breasts, they sprang free for his enjoyment. He couldn’t help but smile at the precious sight. Two perfect globes sat waiting for him to sample. And taste he did. Dour fondled the handfuls, flicking the nipples with his tongue until she moaned.

  “I need you,” she gasped as she fumbled with her pants.

  Why a woman wore a man’s trews, he did not understand, but she looked strikingly attractive in them. He helped her as best he could in the confines of the small car. After a few head bumps, an elbow hard to the window and a gearshift in her hip, their struggle ended and she was naked. Long lean legs straddled his lap and he ran his hands along her thighs.

  “Ye are beautiful, lass.”

  “Thank you,” Jenny gasped, attempting to tug the front of his kilt up around his waist. He lifted, allowing more movement in the fabric, and she bumped her head on the roof again since she sat on his lap. She commanded, “Dour, press your feet into the floor.”

  He did as instructed just as she leaned for something between the lower edge of the seat and the door. The seat slid back with a thud, then lay almost flat, giving him more legroom to maneuver. It wasn’t much, but the slender woman on his lap utilized it perfectly. She repositioned until her knees were beside his hips and his kilt was rolled into a bunch at his waist. She froze and he followed her stare.

  His cock stood hard, straight and ready. In slow motion, she caressed him from base to tip. He liked the feel of her hands and the way they gracefully danced along his skin. He couldn’t take his eyes off her long, thin fingers as they cared for his shaft. If she kept this up, he’d reach his pleasure within a matter of minutes. Dour wanted to be inside her.

  “Jenny.” He spoke her name on a haggard breath. Her eyes met his and he didn’t have to say another word. It was as if she knew his very thoughts.

  He steadied her by holding on to her narrow waist as she guided his cock home. Never had a woman’s sheath felt as magnificent as Jenny’s did the moment his head breached her opening and she slowly sank onto him, taking him in all the way to the hilt. She arched and he grasped her hips, giving her the support she needed to fuck him. He liked this position of a woman in command of her pleasure. But given their location, he doubted they could fuck any other way. With the limited room, Dour’s muscles contracted.

  Och. Now wasn’t the time for his legs to cramp.

  She couldn’t believe her body’s reaction to Dour at a time like this. It had to be the intense stress of the situation driving her to fuck a complete stranger. But she couldn’t stop. She wanted him. No. She needed him to comfort her. She tried desperately to justify her actions. The feel of him against her as she’d cried ignited her senses, making her even more aware of his sexuality. His build wasn’t that of one of those weightlifters or physique builders. It appeared earned through everyday life, chopping wood and hunting, surviving in elements through the sheer will to live.

  Ugh. Jenny chided herself. She couldn’t stop her eyes from soaking in every glorious inch of him. Wild red hair hung scattered about his shoulders, taunting her fingertips with its silkiness. Penetrating green eyes stared directly at her. His chest was broad, as were his biceps. He looked incredibly large crammed into the front seat of this small car. But still he held her, easing her distress at the expense of his own comfort.

  Stress-induced lust, that’s why this was happening. She tried to put an acceptable spin on it as she rode Dour. Her breathing increased and the sexual tension swirled into a tightly wound spring ready to explode at any moment with every delicious stroke of him in and out of her. Pounding down on him almost pushed her over the edge but instead she dangled, hanging on by a thin thread of ecstasy.

  “Och,” Dour groaned and twisted, bucking her wildly, causing her to lose her balance. His fingers dug into her hips. She grabbed his shoulders for support but still banged her temple on the glass. Damn. Stars shot behind her eyes as his cock speared into her at an odd angle. Pain mixed with pleasure and that was all she needed. Invisible scissors cut the thin string and she spiraled into the abyss. A slight throb in her head was nothing compared to the orgasm racing through her at the moment.

  Jenny shivered from the intensity of the sensations flooding her body. She leaned against him, gasping for a deep breath. But she didn’t get more than a moment to loll in the afterglow.

  “Lass,” he panted. The grimace on his face couldn’t be mistaken for anything other than pain. “I need to be standing. Mi legs are tightening.”

  “Oh,” she said as she awkwardly slid off him and sideways into the driver’s seat. “You’ve got a cramp.” She reached across him and opened the car door while she shielded the overhead light with a blanket.

  He practically rolled out of the car as if he were a pistachio nut being pried from a shell. Somehow he managed to land on his feet in a crouched position. She kept the blanket over the light until he eased around the door and closed it, extinguishing the lamp. Even though it was becoming lighter as sunrise approached, Jenny didn’t want to take any chances of being caught by the brighter light somehow being seen. She turned off the lantern since it was no longer needed to see.

  Dour slowly stood and she sensed from his cautious movements he scoured the area for signs of intruders. His muscles bunched and flexed as he stretched. He moved in a circular pattern around the car, keeping his back to her, reinforcing her thought that he was on the lookout. Carefully, she got out of the car, carrying her clothes. She stretched then dressed as he stood watch.

  Jenny stepped into her panties and her jeans, then in a practiced move had her bra on in a second. She lifted her shirt to put it on over her head as she asked, “How are your legs feeling?”

  As she tugged the shirt onto her head, an electrified tingle filled the air, coated her bared flesh and slithered down her spine. “Jenny.” Her name whispered in agony had her quickly popping her head through the shirt’s opening only to stop dead still and stare. Her jaw hung open and her eyes widened.

  Dour stood at the front of the car, frozen in stone. The sun’s rays filtered through the trees and haloed him in a beam of light. Out of habit, she finished putting on her shirt. Her feet moved of their own accord in his direction. She rubbed her eyes, hoping it was some sort of trick and blinked, but it didn’t change. Dour was a statue once again. Her fingers trembled and she wasn’t sure if she should touch him, but had to know if this was real.

  He was on his feet, back straight with a slight twist at the waist where he had turned to look in her direction when he spoke her name. One arm was outstretched as if he’d reached for her before this wicked curse claimed him again. Jenny paused. Her fingers hovered within mere inches of touching his cheek.

  Was this the curse? If so, how did it happen, hadn’t the old woman in the warehouse freed them? Question after question tumbled through her head. Now what the hell was she going to do? She paced around him, letting her fingers touch him ever so lightly, hoping without hope this was a weird dream and she’d wake soon to find herself in her bedroom in the flat she shared with Cait.

  Something caught her eye and she switched to panic mode. Her brain whirled and she sprang into action. For a split second, the silver window shield reflected the sun when a breeze whispered through the trees, moving the limb
s that hung low over the car. She couldn’t have that happen again. Jenny reached in through the window and jerked the shield from its place. Quickly she folded it and tucked it into the backseat. Not sure how much was visible from this grove of trees and underbrush to the compound, she decided not to take any risk.

  She grabbed the forest-green blanket and laid it across the car, covering as much of the hood and windshield as possible. She gathered a couple of downed branches and laid them on the roof and leaned them against the rear, being careful to spread them for maximum coverage. As fast and as neatly as possible, she did her best to cover the car’s tracks leading into the trees. Lastly, she covered Dour with the dark-brown blanket. Now if anyone scanned this area, she hoped nothing stood out too drastically that they’d send someone over to investigate.

  Jenny used the binoculars. The compound seemed quiet. From what she saw, the guardhouse contained two people. The gate was kept closed. There were at least eight mounds, signifying underground bunkers to her. But there could be more. Her heart sank. What was she going to do? She looked at Dour’s lifeless form. She couldn’t leave him here and go for help. What if they found him? What would they do to him? Worse, what could she do to stop them? Tiredness made her legs shake as she walked over to him.

  Not sure why she did it, she hugged him, wrapping her arms underneath the blanket. Her cheek pressed to the stone center of his chest. A faint sound thumped in her ear and it scared her. She pulled back without releasing her hold to his waist. Was that his heartbeat? Nah, it couldn’t be. Just to make sure, she listened again with her ear snugly pressed in the center of his chest. Thump. Thump. A steady beat told her he definitely lived inside this strange tomb of sorts.

  She stepped back and stared. Without a doubt, this was the oddest case she and Cait had ever dealt with. She glanced in the direction of the compound. And it was the most dangerous. Jenny returned to the car, leaned inside and disconnected the bulb from the overhead light. Should’ve thought of that sooner. Leaving the driver’s side door open, she laid the seat back, got as comfortable as possible and ate a protein bar she retrieved from the backpack along with a bottle of water. She’d made fun of Cait for keeping this thing stocked, but now she was damn glad her best friend had the foresight to do so.

  Jenny picked up the cell phone and checked for a signal just in case. Nothing, but the battery was getting low. She attached the car charger and plugged it in. Everything ached with tiredness. Her eyes grew heavy as she clutched the phone to her chest and wished for a miracle. Though she was determined to remain focused on the compound, exhaustion won the battle and forced her to succumb to sleep.

  Pain shot through Dour’s chest and he thought he’d crumple to the ground. Heat sizzled, filling him with the sensation of being on fire for a split second then disappearing, taking his freedom with it. The last thing he saw was Jenny’s surprised look as she met his gaze right before darkness surrounded him.

  How could this be? Wasn’t he free from the curse? Dour struggled to break from the solid wall that bound him. Frustration bounced around his brain, threatening his sanity. Nothing responded to his mental commands. His limbs did not obey. His eyes could not see and his mouth did not speak. Yet he had the ability to think and reason.

  He willed himself to relax and work out this puzzle contrived of twisted magic. There had to be a reason the curse returned to him. Had it also taken Donnell? Panic threatened his deductive process as an image of his twin locked in stone flashed inside his head. Though he prayed Donnell was free, he instinctively knew the truth. Both he and Donnell were entombed.

  Not if he could help it. Dour concentrated on the events of their release. There had to be a logical reason for what happened. What changed? He cataloged his thoughts, trying to deduce an answer.

  First he and Donnell were awakened after a two-hundred-year nap by a stunning older redhead. Second they did one of their favorite things, they got in a fight. The memory would have made him snort if he could have as he considered the episode as not much of a brawl. Not like the ones he and his brathairs… Dour paused.

  Were any of his other brathairs free? Had they all been cursed? It saddened him to think the others suffered the same fate as he and Donnell. He prayed they’d enjoyed long, happy lives and mourned the loss of him and Donnell by seeking revenge against the person behind this curse. He struggled to clear his thoughts of his family. But one by one, their faces flashed behind his eyes. Gavin. Ian. Padon. Struan. Aiden. And his one and only piuthar—sister—Akira.

  What became of them? The woman hadn’t mentioned any of his brathairs when she freed them. Then again, she didn’t have much of a chance to tell them anything. They’d been tossed right into the middle of a brawl.

  Dour desperately tried to clear his thoughts of his loved ones’ images. It tormented his soul, knowing he’d never see them again. He needed his mind focused on the current issue if he was to determine the way to true freedom for him and Donnell.

  What if there was no path to freedom? What if the one night was all they got? Dour shook those delinquent thoughts from his mind. He refused to retreat into the negative and suffer the mental torture of being awake yet asleep at the same time. Then it struck him.

  The one night.

  That was the difference. They had been awakened at night.

  The woman claimed she set them free. He worked through what she’d said. There were constraints. What sort of constraints did she mean? She would not have stated she’d set them free if she hadn’t. Would she have? They didn’t know her. What if she lied? Dour studied her words in his head. No. The way she’d spoken to him and Donnell was with such conviction, such honesty, she believed she’d given them a way to freedom.

  Yet one with constraints.

  Constraints. That word tumbled through his brain. What sort of ties still wove around this curse keeping them bound? Dour thought back to the moment he’d felt that first tingle. What changed that brought the curse on again? What was he doing when it started? A stroke of the sun’s rays brushed his cheek and had him meeting his first sunrise in many years. He’d only gotten a brief glimpse when…

  Dour smiled inwardly. The answer beamed as bright as a beacon of sunlight. He was giddy with hope he’d figured out the constraint of which the woman spoke. This freedom came with a restriction. Come nightfall he and Donnell would be free again. That idea sparked a sense of relief and gave him a light at the end of his tunnel. He might be wrong but refused to allow negative thought to overrule his momentary joy.

  That sliver of hope was all he had to keep him sane. That and the images of a beautiful woman who traipsed through his mind and gave him something else to think about and enjoy while he waited. Dour liked the vision of Jenny sitting perched on his shaft. He couldn’t help but laugh inwardly at the memory of their coupling in that tiny car. Each bumped something somewhere and still they gave each other pleasure. It didn’t matter his legs cramped and she’d knocked her head against the roof several times.

  Dour struggled to contain the laughter rolling through his mind. But image after image of their difficult first time set his spirits on high. He liked that Jenny was an adventurous woman. The memory of how she felt wrapped around him soothed any lingering angst as he relished the idea of sampling her glorious attributes once again come nightfall. The sensual imagery came to a screeching halt.

  Jenny was alone.

  This hit him like a solid blow to the jaw in a brawl. This long, lean creature was unattended in a situation of severe danger. What if the people from the compound found her? What if they took her hostage? No. Don’t think like that. He tried to focus on the good as he prayed for her safety.

  She was a smart woman. Jenny would be safe until he woke to help her. This he tried to convince himself was truth. He would wake again. It was the only thought that gave him a miniscule amount of hope and that was all he needed to survive. He was determined he’d awaken again at nightfall and have the chance to hold Jenny once again.


  He prayed he was right.

  Chapter Nine

  “Trust me, you imbecile Draven,” Leod stated tersely from behind his desk, knowing the man bristled at being called nothing short of stupid. He did it on purpose to show he didn’t fear Draven. “You’ve brought me a MacKinnon.”

  The ringleader from the warehouse grumbled in return, “How can you be so sure? One minute the statues were there, the next they weren’t.”

  Leod laughed. He limped around his desk and took a seat. He brushed the hood from his head, letting it pool around his shoulders. Leod’s once-handsome appeal had been marred at the hands of a MacKinnon. He sighed, brushing his fingertips along the misshapen flesh that had been burned. Now he used it to his advantage. It gave him a more frightening appearance when it came to his lesser-minded followers. The disfigurement to the left side of his face and ear startled most, but not this oversized buffoon.

  Draven’s gaze hardened when Leod met his eyes. Mind tricks didn’t work on this one. He’d acknowledged that the first time he attempted to control Draven when they met three months ago. He’d accepted the man for what he was, a hired killer, nothing more. His worth had been proven when he shared his newly acquired lair, this underground compound, with Leod and his small band of misfit-magical-wannabes.

  The few stragglers they’d gathered from the lowest bowels of London’s alleys had no true potential. But he’d needed followers. Idiots who’d believe anything if they thought they’d gain a buck for their efforts. Draven and his men, on the other hand, were more precise in their needs, their abilities to function as a group of thieves. Leod admired Draven’s talent for molding his men and had given him the task of transforming his meager group into a more productive task force for him to use against the MacKinnons and eventually the world once the book was in his hands.