Sara gasped, her head falling back, her neck tantalizing. Gabriel licked her soft flesh and bent to make sure her jeans had cleared her knees. Then he pulled the waistband of her panties and slid his finger inside, straight down her clitoris and right inside her. Her moan, and the hot, wet feel of her eager body, made him ache with a pain so intense he knew he couldn’t wait another minute. Maybe not even thirty seconds.
She was his. He loved her. And now they were both going to enjoy the fact that he could fully and freely fuck her.
Taking her by the shoulders, Gabriel demanded, “Step out of your jeans.”
She did, kicking them to the side, her eyes wide and glassy with lust and love and excitement.
Gabriel turned her impatiently and pushed her against the wall. Sara’s breasts jumped, her breath caught, her hands came up to spread across the plaster. He could see her ribs, the curve of her abdomen, the disarray of her hair as she waited, so beautiful and eager. Moving in closer to her, Gabriel stripped off his own shirt and jeans, followed by his briefs, and reached forward and kissed her hard, biting her, wanting that taste of her on his tongue.
He slid her panties down and melded his hard body against the warmth and softness of her, holding her right hand captive under his. Then with his free hand, he spread her legs, nice and wide, opened her, and thrust his erection fully into her.
Sara whimpered, and her hand jumped beneath his. Gabriel closed his eyes, letting himself throb inside her for a second, savoring, enjoying. Then his body demanded he move, and he did, hard, fast, furious, taking what he had waited for so long for. Her body held on to his, gripping him, accepting him. Gabriel clenched her hand with one hand, her waist with the other, and buried his face in her neck, no words to express what he felt, how much he loved her, how amazing it felt to be fully and deeply inside her.
He knew when she came, her head snapping up, her eyes wide and stunned, her fingernails digging into the palm of his hand, her inner muscles convulsing around his cock, her mouth open in a silent scream.
It was more than enough to send him over the edge, letting go completely, pounding his relief, his pleasure, into her, allowing his body to do what it wanted without guilt or recrimination or personal censure. This was right, this was his future.
His happiness.
* * *
Sara woke up slowly and languorously, feeling like she never wanted to move from Gabriel’s bed. Ever. The sheet had slipped at some point during the night but she wasn’t cold, and her nakedness actually pleased her. She knew Gabriel wasn’t in bed with her because he was what had woken her from a sound sleep. The best sleep she’d had in a year or more. It was clearly morning, given the sun streaming in the bedroom window, and while she hadn’t been aware of Gabriel climbing out of bed, she knew he was in the other room because she could hear the piano.
He was playing his piano.
It was a soft song, delicate, lovely, beautiful. The sound drifted over her like the light touch of a feather, like the gentle shift of Gabriel’s fingers through her hair, like the kisses he dropped on the corners of her mouth.
Sara lay still and listened, letting it wrap around her, knowing what it must mean to him to have music back in his life, his soul. When she couldn’t stay away any longer, when the need to see him, touch him, surpassed her desire to give him privacy, she climbed out of bed and got one of his t-shirts out of the drawer and pulled it on. Her panties were still in the living room, left behind when Gabriel had dragged her to bed for round two.
Knowing she was smiling, knowing she was embarrassingly in love, she walked into the living room. And was devastated by him all over again. He was gorgeous. Unbelievably so. Gabriel was sitting at the piano shirtless, his jeans low on his hips, his feet bare. His hair slid over his shoulders and his eyes were closed as he played. She shifted so she could see his fingers, watch them trail over the keys, long and powerful and talented, confident in their movements.
It was mesmerizing, the way he coaxed such a beauty of sound from the piano, and she knew she could watch him for a lifetime.
But he sensed her presence and opened his eyes. Gabriel smiled at her, his hair falling forward as he kept playing. “Good morning.”
“Good morning. The song is beautiful.”
“It’s your song.”
“My song?” She didn’t recognize it, but then she wasn’t at all familiar with classical music. Whatever it was, she liked it.
“Yep. I wrote it for you.”
Sara stared at him, as he kept playing, his mastery effortless, his focus on her instead of his fingers. “What? What do you mean?” Surely he wasn’t saying what she thought he was saying.
“I mean I wrote it. It’s your song. It’s how I hear you.”
Oh, God. Sara sucked in a shaky breath, overwhelmed, with love, with joy, with gratitude. “It’s lovely,” she whispered.
“Like you.”
Sara buried her eyes behind her hand, feeling the tears demanding release. Sniffling, she let them trail down each cheek. “I’m glad to see that losing your immortality didn’t take away your talent. It’s incomparable.”
His smile was satisfied. “It’s a gift. As are you.”
Sara went over to him, needing to touch him, wanting to feel his mouth on hers. She leaned over and kissed him, a lingering embrace that had her sighing. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” he said, sliding his hand under the t-shirt to cup her bare backside. “Now let’s go get some coffee.”
Sara laughed. He was as random as always. “Okay. Let me put pants on.”
“Probably a good idea.”
* * *
Five minutes later, Gabriel pushed open the courtyard gate and stepped out on to the sidewalk, Sara holding onto the crook of his elbow. The container of Anne’s ashes was in his other hand.
“It’s just beautiful out,” Sara said, pausing to breathe in deeply. “It’s not too hot.”
“What should we do today?” he asked her, unable to stop himself from kissing the top of her head. Twice. And a third time for good measure.
“I want to look for a job. It’s time for me to go back to work in a lab.”
She spoke with an easy conviction and Gabriel was pleased to hear it.
“And arrange to ship my stuff here.”
He looked at her in amusement as they started to head down towards Chartres Street. “Are we going to need a bigger apartment?”
“No. I like this apartment.”
“We’ll have more room if I sell my absinthe spoon collection.” Not that it took up any space really, but it was the segue he’d been looking for, a way to reassure her his addictions were a thing of the past.
She glanced up at him. “Only if you want to.”
He nodded. “It’s time.” That was the past, and he wanted to embrace the power and beauty of living in the now.
They walked in the warmth, Sara’s sandals shuffling on the sidewalk, her sky blue skirt billowing around her legs, crossing through Jackson Square. He could leave New Orleans now, but he wouldn’t. It was home.
As they climbed up the hill to cross the tracks and reach the river, an old man approached them with a smile.
He held out a vibrant pink flower to Sara. “Have a wonderful day, precious,” he said, with a nod of his head and a hand flourish.
“Thank you,” she said and accepted the offering with a bright, warm smile.
Gabriel tried to tip the man, but he waved him off. When he turned to say something to Sara, tears were in her eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s a hot pink carnation,” she said. “My mother’s favorite flower.”
“I’m sorry.” He didn’t know what else to say, but she shook her head.
“Don’t be sorry. It’s good. It’s a sign. She’s telling me she’s okay.”
Sara stopped in front of the river, not on the observation steps that were crowded with tourists, but fifty feet away. They were above the river, not in direct contac
t with the water, but the privacy was worth the distance.
Removing the lid to the box, Gabriel tipped it over and watched as Anne’s remains drifted down through the air. Sara tossed the carnation after, and its weight pulled it faster so that it caught up with the ashes and intermingled amongst them, until they collectively descended into the water.
Fallen.
Gabriel took Sara’s hand into his and walked away from the river.
Looking for more?
Read the other two books in the Deadly Sins series: My Immortal and The Taking… Note these books do NOT have to be read in any specific order!
MY IMMORTAL
My Life. My Love. My Immortal.
In the late 18th century, a spoiled, selfish plantation owner struck an unholy bargain with a fallen angel: an eternity of servitude for the gift of immortality. For over two hundred years, Damien du Bourg has held up his end of the bargain by inspiring lust in every woman he encounters.
Arriving at Damien’s plantation on the outskirts of New Orleans while searching for her missing sister, Marley Turner enters a world of shocking decadence. Drawn to the tortured man at the center of it all, Marley feels a powerful sensuality stirring inside her.
For the first time, it’s Damien who can’t resist the lure of a woman. But his past sins cannot be forgiven, and Marley must chose between the grip of the demon and a life alone...
THE TAKING
His gift is dark desire…
Nearly a century ago, Felix Leblanc made a deal with the demon of greed. Now he’s the most celebrated and powerful voodoo priest in New Orleans, able to enchant anything he wishes from wealthy, beautiful women. Until one client, beautiful and dangerous, brings his reign to a disastrous end, condemning Felix to servitude and a loveless eternity of never being wanted for himself.
In modern-day New Orleans, Heiress Regan Henry knows that passion can be an illusion, and she keeps her emotions in check, until she falls under the spell of the beguiling Felix LeBlanc. He knows that the rumors that her mansion is haunted are true, and that he’s the only one who can save her from the spirits residing there. But the only way he can do it is to sacrifice his last chance at redemption- or risk a love that could consign them both to an eternity of evil.”
Find out more here:
http://www.erinmccarthy.net/category/books/?pgtype=series&series=seven-deadly-sins
* * *
More Paranormal Romance Books
by Erin McCarthy
Vegas Vampires
High Stakes
Bit The Jackpot
Bled Dry
Sucker Bet
Anthologies
First Blood
Out of the Light, Into the Shadows
The Beast Within
The Magical Christmas Cat
An Enchanted Season
For a full list of over sixty romance titles visit www.erinmccarthy.net
or sign up for her newsletter:
http://www.erinmccarthy.net/newsletter-2/
SHADOW OF DANGER
by Kristine Mason
* * *
Prologue
Twelve years earlier...
“NOW WHAT ARE we going to do with her?”
The trace of amusement in Garrett’s voice had him pausing mid-buckle. The man was a depraved, sick fuck, and today, he’d dragged him into hell.
And he liked it. Loved it. Knew he’d crave it again and again. The struggle, the fight, the dominance.
He ignored Garrett and focused on finishing zipping and buckling his pants. An effort considering his hands were clammy and swollen, covered in blood, and shaking from the adrenaline still pumping through his veins.
“Well,” Garrett drawled. “Whaddya say, Toby?”
Garrett was the only one who called him by that name, and he hated himself for loving the way Garrett’s voice rushed over him, caressed him. Hated himself for wanting something so twisted and immoral.
Instead of answering, he stared at the naked woman on the floor. Her groans were muffled by the dish towel they’d stuffed into her mouth earlier. Blood flowed from her nose and now covered the pears and apples design on the old rag. Her cheeks had doubled in size and were already purpling. One of her eyes had swollen shut, while the other remained nothing but a watery, puffy slit. Bite marks, and black and blue handprints, which could have been either his or Garrett’s—didn’t matter—marred her pale, nude body. His dick hardened at a sight that should have horrified him. But the memory of the way he’d taken her, the forbidden way, the way no woman had ever allowed him, was so damned fresh in his mind, he could still feel it.
“Toby,” Garrett murmured. “Wanna take her again?”
He finally looked at Garrett. He tried to ignore his wide shoulders, muscular chest, and the sheen of sweat coating the other man’s massive biceps. He couldn’t, though. Not with the way Garrett’s big dick twitched and hardened as he lay sprawled on the ratty sofa staring at the woman.
He grabbed Garrett’s jeans from the floor and tossed them to him, then looked at the whore they’d spent the afternoon playing with in disgust. No, he didn’t want her again. But he did want another just like her. Still, Garrett was right, what the hell were they going to do with her now?
She’d seen their faces, knew their names. She might be some white trash, gutter whore, but if she went to the cops, the long arm of the law would hunt them down, which seemed like a big waste of taxpayer dollars to him. Whores deserved shit. They deserved to rot in hell, every last one of them. Selling their bodies for drugs, or to pay a few bills, maybe feed their bastard kids, or make rent in some hellhole not fit for a fucking cockroach. Did their plump little whore have any bastard kids hanging around, hungry and living in filth? Did she use them for her drugs, for her money, for her slutty clothes?
Fury, so sweet and raw, clawed inside him, settled low in his gut and made his dick swell with something more than sexual excitement. He knelt down and pulled the towel from her mouth. He knew what to do with her. Knew what she deserved, what every whore deserved. But did he have the nerve?
Garrett launched off the couch, shoving his long legs into his jeans. “What the hell are you doing, you stupid ass? If that bitch screams my neighbors will hear.”
“They won’t hear shit. Her jaw’s broken, and she’s barely conscious. Ain’t that right?” He knocked her head with the back of his hand. Her one eye rolled back, but her ragged moan had him nearly coming on the spot. Yeah, he liked this new power, how it invigorated him, breathed life into his dismal existence.
As Garrett moved closer, he forced his gaze to the corner of the room. Trying desperately to keep his eyes off of the other man and the way he looked shirtless, his jeans hanging open. He’d been told, too many times over the years, that he wore his emotions on his sleeve. What he was feeling now, Garrett could never discover. Ever. He’d kill him if he knew.
“She’s seen us and knows where I live,” Garrett snarled as he looked down at the whore. “If she’s found here, we’ll have cops all over our asses. So...” He shrugged and smiled. A slow, easy, arousing smile. “I guess we’ll just have to make sure she can’t talk, won’t we?”
He hated the way that smile made his dick even harder. But he hated the woman even more for not being able to satisfy his true lust.
He looked down at her again. Garrett was right. They couldn’t afford to allow her to walk away—to live. And knowing Garrett as he did, he knew the man could and would fix this for them.
Garrett draped an arm over his shoulder. “It was a hell of an afternoon, huh?”
He merely grunted. Garrett’s close proximity, his touch made it difficult for him to speak.
“Yep, I think we got something good going today, don’t you?”
He turned his head and stared at Garrett who continued to look at the woman. His dark, gray eyes sizzled with something akin to lust as another one of his sensual smiles worked his firm lips.
“This wasn’t supposed to happen.
It can’t happen again,” he said, the whine in his voice grating on his own nerves.
“Why not? I know you liked it. Man, you should have seen your face when you fucked her plump ass. You telling me you don’t want to do that again?” Garrett drew him closer and whispered in his ear. “Beat that bitch? Fuck that ass until everything drains from you. Until you’ve drained her?”
He did like it. The rush. The power. The vengeance.
Hating and loving the way Garrett held him, he slowly nodded and forced himself to move away. “I did, but we can’t do this again. I can’t have the heat coming down on me.”
“Don’t be such a pussy.” Garrett slapped him on the back. “I’ve been at this for a while, but after seeing you in action, I’m thinking maybe we could make this a real team effort.”
When he met his gaze, Garrett shrugged. “I know how to get rid of her. I know how to keep a secret safe.”
Of that, he knew damned well. Garrett had been keeping their secrets safe for many years. But he could be stupid at times. His arrogance, his cockiness, could land them into a whole lot of shit. He stared at the woman again, his pulse racing at what Garrett had proposed. They could do this again, and again. Keep their secrets to themselves. Enjoy the high, the moment together. He wanted that. The special bond. The secret.
His mind drifted back to that God awful night. The night that had changed him, and made him want something he shouldn’t. And he had a sudden, overwhelming realization of what he needed to maintain his sanity, to maintain the charade.
Dark Secrets: A Paranormal Romance Anthology Page 63
