by Marata Eros
Jay looks at my face, his eyes pouring over every detail as though he's memorizing it. He raises his hand to caress my jaw. “So beautiful.”
I flinch away, my eyes going anywhere but to him.
An exhale shudders out of me, expelling my disgust, guilt, and disgrace.
Noise disturbs the silence of the room where only our breaths had been.
Voices crash against the door. Jay's eyebrows tick up, pulling together and he gives me a sharp look.
There’s the sound of someone being struck.
Jay sits up.
“Don't fucking go in there, Mick!” Thorn says.
Mick.
My breath stalls. I’ve never felt adrenaline like I do in this moment.
I try to scramble off Jay's lap, but our clothes and limbs are too fused for a rapid untangle.
The door crashes open and hits the wall with a thundering crack.
I twist at the torso and take in a wild Mick, my bare ass facing the door.
His eyes widen. My half-naked body wears a dress he undoubtedly chose with himself in mind and is now defiled with another man's release.
Gone is his expensive suit and smooth demeanor.
In its place is a rage that borders on insanity. He launches himself at us.
“Faren!”
I don't move, the proverbial deer caught in the headlights.
Jay is the one who thinks, dumping me on the floor as the bull that is Mick rushes him.
I fall on my naked, sticky ass, limbs flung in an ungraceful mess.
Mick plows into Jay and the chair goes ass over tea kettle onto the floor. Mick hammers Jay's face and I meet Thorn's eyes.
His black eye is blacker than his skin, and he shrugs helplessly.
“Help him!”
Thorn shakes his head as if Jay deserves it.
Jay disgusts me, but Mick will kill him.
I see that now.
I jerk up like an awoken sleepwalker and lurch to Mick. My dress bunches in all the wrong places, and I grab his arm.
“Stop! Please, Mick,” I scream as Jay's bleeding face turns into tenderized meat.
Mick flings off my arm, shoves away from Jay, and comes at me.
I back up, pinwheeling my arms as he stalks toward me. His knuckles are bloody, the skin torn from pounding the flesh off Jay's face.
My ass hits the wall, and he slams against me, his hands caging me.
“Why?” he roars in my face.
His hot breath bathes me in his anger, and I feel stark terror. I pushed this man so badly that he doesn't sound like him anymore.
“I was going to tell you,” I whisper against his heaving chest.
His hand slams against the wall, and my head leaps from the force of it.
“No, you weren't,” he says in a quiet voice, so full of menace I taste it on my tongue.
My eyes unclench and look into his.
“Mick,” Thorn says.
“Shut the fuck up, Ty.” Mick spares him a venomous glance then swivels that poisonous gaze back to me.
“Why?” He sounds much softer now but no less livid.
I clam up. I can't speak to the anguish in his gaze. Caused by me.
He takes an escaped lock of my hair between his fingers.
Then his fingers plow through my hair, fisting it tightly. His mouth finds mine and punishes me with his kiss. His tongue spears me like it had in my core.
Deep and unyielding.
Final.
He tears away, untangling from me, and I follow each movement, burning it into my memory.
Mick looks at Thorn in disgust, and I watch Thorn swallow.
Mick’s dark eyes come back to me. Outraged accusation swims where tender passion had last night.
I hear Jay groan. Mick and I ignore it as if we're the only two people in the world.
“I think I loved you, Faren.”
Oh god.
I swear my heart stops beating. I take a shaky step toward him, reaching out with my good hand.
He puts a palm up, his gaze going to the beaten Jay just paces away.
No, Mick, no, no, no. You're so wrong.
He turns to me with hard eyes. “But I think you love other things more.”
His eyes sweep the room of sex paraphernalia, touch on Thorn briefly, and settle on me. “Good-bye.”
Mick wipes his mouth, as though erasing our last kiss, and walks out.
I sink to the ground, wishing it would swallow me.
I don't love other things, I realize too late.
Only him.
THE END
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Volume #4
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Acknowledgments
I published The Druid and Death Series in 2011 with the encouragement of my husband, and continued because of you, my Reader. Your faithfulness through comments, suggestions, spreading the word and ultimately purchasing my work with your hard-earned money gave me the incentive, means and inspiration to continue.
There are no words that are sufficiently adequate to express my thankfulness for your support. But know this: TDS novellas continued past HARVEST only because of you.
I truly feel connected to my readers. It is obvious to me, but I'll say the words anyway for clarity: a written work is just words on pages if they are not read by my readers. As I write this I get a lump in my throat; your enjoyment of my work affects me that deeply.
You guys are the greatest, each and every one of ya~
Marata (Tamara) xo
Special Thanks:
You, my reader.
My husband, who is my biggest fan.
Cameren, without whom, there would be no books.
About the Author
Marata Eros (the pen name for Tamara Rose Blodgett) is the author of over seventy titles, including her New York Times bestselling novel, A Terrible Love and the #1 international bestselling erotic Interracial, and African-American TOKEN serial. Marata writes a variety of dark fiction in the genres of erotica, fantasy, horror, romance, sci-fi and suspense. She lives in South Dakota with her family, and enjoys interacting with her readers.
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