Blazing Bedtime Anthology

by Leslie Kelly

  She licked her lips, those pretty, tempting lips. “So you’re saying you’re part wolf?”

  He nodded. “My father, as well as the others in my clan, are descendants of a race of half-humans, half-wolves, and they almost always intermarry. Keeping the line pure.”

  “Pure wolf-man. Gotcha.”

  He ignored her sarcasm, knowing it was generated by shock. “My father fell for someone outside the clan.”

  “Uh-huh. Where was she from, the Land of Oz?”

  Remaining patient, he answered, “No. But since my mother was fully human, I only have a quarter of that wolf ancestry.”

  She hesitated, then finally snapped her fingers and grinned. “Wait! I’m unconscious. That pig knocked me out when he slammed me into the ground, and this is a coma-induced hallucination.”

  He simply stared at her. She stared back, her smile slowly fading. Penny was grasping at straws, trying to find a rational explanation for something that didn’t have one. At least, not according to her view of the world.

  A view of the world she wasn’t going to part with easily.

  “No. No, no, no!” She thrust each word out harshly. Penny pushed back her chair, rising from it. “You need to leave now.

  He stood as well. “To use your favorite word, no.”

  She backed up until she reached the counter and could go no further. “I mean it. Get out of here.”

  “Not until I make one thing clear,” he muttered, following her across the kitchen, step by step.

  Fear flitted across her face, but he couldn’t make himself do as she asked. He couldn’t leave her, giving her time to adjust. They didn’t have time. Besides, tonight wasn’t the kind of night when he could even pretend to be patient.

  When he reached her, he inhaled deeply, smelling not just that hint of fear but more of that excitement. It made her body quiver and her lips tremble. Her hands were behind her, clenching the edges of the countertop.

  “What do you need to make clear?” she whispered.

  Her heart started pounding as he stalked her. He felt it—almost heard it—in the silent air, thick with so many layers of tension he’d have trouble counting them all. But she didn’t try to run.

  Because she wanted him still. That was causing the most tension of all. She desired him, as she had in her bedroom when he could have taken her, ridding them both of this insane need they’d aroused in one another at first sight. At least temporarily…until it swelled out of control again.

  That would probably have taken less than an hour.

  He couldn’t do it then, because he hadn’t told her the truth about himself. Now he had. Now, as they said over here, all bets were off. “I’ve told you who I am. What I am. Why I came here.”

  She opened her mouth as if to scoff, but no words emerged.

  “What I didn’t tell you is that from the moment I saw you at the diner, I knew.”

  “Knew what?”

  He leaned in, filling his every breath with her, studying the curls drying softly around her face, the full, pouty lips, the dark-purple eyes.

  She licked those perfect lips. “Knew what, Lucas?”

  He put both hands on the counter behind her, trapping her in place. Leaning down, he brushed his cheek against her hair, then nibbled his way down the pierced curve of her ear, feeling a helpless shudder roll through her. With his lips against her earlobe, he finally answered her question in a low whisper.

  “I knew I had to have you.”

  CHAPTER 6

  PENNY had to wonder: was it legal to have wild, crazy, up-against-the-refrigerator sex with an insane person?

  Probably not. Or at least it wasn’t appropriate.

  Screw appropriate. She desired this man so much she would do violence on anyone who told her she couldn’t have him.

  “You’re certifiable.” She tilted her head, inviting him to move that warm mouth down her neck. “But I still want you.”

  More than wanted, she was dying for him. She was on fire, from her head to her toes. As he tugged the small earring on her lobe into his mouth and sucked lightly, she sighed, remembering how he’d pleasured her breasts.

  “I know you do,” he replied, doing what she’d hoped for, pressing those lips to her pulse point. “And I am still a wolf.”

  “Yeah, yeah, whatever,” she muttered. “I guess that’s a good thing. If you were a vampire I’d be in real trouble right now.”

  He lifted his head, looking down at her, passion blazing in his dark eyes. “Maybe you are in real trouble right now.”

  Penny sucked in a deep, excited breath as wanton heat roared through her. “I’m good at being in trouble.”

  He didn’t hesitate, obviously hearing in her voice both an acceptance and a plea. Without warning, he picked her up by the waist, covering her lips in a deep, hungry kiss.

  Penny groaned with pleasure, meeting his tongue, sucking it into her mouth. Wrapping her legs around his hips and her arms around his shoulders, she let everything go except this. This need, this wild hunger. Arousal tripped through her, setting each nerve ending afire until every inch of her burned and sparked.

  Their kisses were consuming, devouring, and Penny felt lightheaded as he carried her to her bedroom. He didn’t drop her onto the bed, but fell onto it with her. Their tongues dueled, wet and rough. She tasted every corner of his mouth, reveling in the flavors of him.

  When his powerful hands moved to the hem of her T-shirt, Penny lifted up to help. Loving the way he had consumed her with his eyes before, she pulled her mouth from his, wanting to see every moment. They shared a deep, panting breath, and she watched him shift his gaze to her body, saw the way his eyes flared and his mouth fell open on a low groan as he tossed the shirt away.

  “I like these,” he admitted hoarsely, reaching to play with the rings on her nipples even as he lowered his mouth to one.

  Penny hissed, stunned at how good it felt. Her breasts had always been sensitive, but this was beyond anything she’d ever experienced. She’d had the piercings done months ago after a breakup. It had been a crazy spur-of-the-moment impulse. Lucas was the first lover she’d had since. The overwhelming pleasure, with the tiniest hint of pain, as he suckled, tweaked and plucked had her digging her heels into the bed, arching toward his mouth.

  It was exquisite, intense, and waves of delight began swirling to the core of her. The hard ridge of his erection pressed against her groin, and she bucked toward him. Each flick of his tongue took her higher, and she twined her hands in his thick hair, long and lustrous, soft against her bare skin.

  But she couldn’t hold him in place once he decided to move.

  That was okay. Because he moved down.

  “Oh, yes!”

  Lucas was pulling her skirt off her before his mouth ever reached her waist. He dipped his tongue lower, into the hollow above her pelvic bone. Pulling back, he studied the tattoo on her hip. “A serpent?”

  “Dragon,” she admitted.

  He shook his head. “That’s a poor excuse for a dragon. You’ve obviously never seen one.”

  She let out a half laugh, half groan. “Would you shut up? I’m trying to forget that you’re insane.”

  “I’m not insane.” He licked the dragon’s tail.

  “I’m reserving judgment.” She whimpered with pleasure. “Maybe you’ll like one of my other tattoos better.” She could think of one or two she’d like him to taste.

  He scraped his tongue lower, against the elastic waistband of her panties. “Where are they?”

  “You’ll have to find out for yourself.”

  “I can hardly wait.”

  Holding her breath, she quivered as he ran his fingertips from her belly to her hip. He took her silky underwear along, too, exploring her with his mouth as he uncovered her.

  When he noticed the miniscule thatch of curls, he paused. She felt him laughing against her skin even before she heard the low, wicked chuckle. “You lied.”

  “I don’t use a razor,” sh
e insisted.

  “My eyes, my mouth, my tongue, they all know better.”

  “It’s called a Brazilian….” The explanation died in her throat. He wasn’t listening, obviously didn’t need to hear about her latest visit to a waxing salon. His satisfied expression and slow, reverent kiss on the bare lips of her sex told her everything she needed to know about how much he liked it.

  “Oh, my,” she whispered.

  Slowly, with agonizing restraint, he began to explore her most intimate places. Lucas dipped his tongue deep to taste her body’s essence. Her hips jerked, but he held her still.

  “I like this,” he mumbled.

  “Ditto,” she gasped. She wriggled toward him, craving more, needing that warm tongue to scrape across her most sensitive spot, knowing that as soon as it did, she would probably fly into a million pieces.

  “I like it a lot.”

  She tried not to whimper. “Ditto a lot.”

  As he moved away and kissed the inside of her thighs, she heard another one of those evil, masculine chuckles and knew he was intentionally tormenting her.

  “Do it, Wolf!”

  He looked up at her with that white, gleaming smile. “Is that an order, Princess?”

  She gulped, but not from fear. His hands holding her hips were strong, but not punishing. His mouth was teasing, not cruel. He was bringing her to amazing heights, and she knew, instinctively, that he would never let her fall. Never.

  Her lips curling into a genuine grin, she whispered, “Let’s call it a request.”

  “I can hardly refuse a royal request.” His dark eyes gleamed, then he finally gave her what she needed.

  Flicking his tongue over her clit, he teased and pleasured her until her body shook in a powerful climax. Penny had never been a screamer, but the absolute perfection of it brought a high-pitched cry to her throat and she had to release it.

  He cut off the cry by covering her mouth with his, kissing her deeply, sharing the flavors of her own body. Penny wriggled beneath him, desperate to have him hot and naked against her. She didn’t know whose hands pulled his T-shirt off. She only knew that within a second, a hard male chest was pressed against hers.

  “Oh, Lucas,” she mumbled, staring at him, the breadth of him. She also noted the ruggedness—a few scars that hinted at a rough past, the ridges of powerful muscle that no gym workout could ever provide. The dark, thick hair that proclaimed him all testosterone-laden male.

  She gazed down, seeing the way it did, indeed, taper into a thin line. His jeans bulged where it disappeared, as if his erection was going to burst out the top. God, he’s huge.

  Reaching for him, greedy, needful, she whispered, “Please.”

  He didn’t reply in words, just with a low, deep growl as he thrust into her hand. Penny reached for the zipper, not wanting denim fabric but the silky skin covering a rock-hard cock. In a moment, she had it, thick and immense. Every part of her that wasn’t already wet melted into a puddle of pure sexual desire.

  Lucas pulled away for a moment, long enough to kick off the rest of his clothes, then returned to settle between her thighs.

  “Birth control?”

  “Covered,” she said, grabbing his hips and tugging him forward. “Please, Lucas, fill me up.”

  “With pleasure.”

  Despite his obvious hunger, he went slowly at first, as if worried he might hurt her. Even while almost cooing with pleasure at the feel of him sliding in, making a place for himself inside her body, Penny found herself amazed by his self-control. She could see the quiver of his every muscle as he strained to ease into her rather than thrusting hard, fast and deep.

  But Penny wanted it hard, fast and deep.

  “More!” she insisted, curving her hips up.

  He groaned, and seemed to lose his ability to take it slow. As if the last tether had broken, Lucas drove into her, burying himself to the hilt. Penny threw her head back on the pillow, crying out as yet another orgasm washed over her.

  Sex had never been like this. So intense. Earthy. Delicious.

  “Perfect,” he muttered against her hair, staying still.

  Perfect. Yes.

  He wasn’t able to remain still for long. Murmuring heated whispers, he began to move, pulling away, emptying her, only to fill her, again and again, with long, devastating strokes. They found an immediate rhythm, totally in tune with each other, exchanging deep, ravenous kisses with every thrust.

  Penny became lost to time, lost to place, lost to self. Nothing existed except the feel of him. His scent, his weight, his thickness, his groans of pleasure.

  Finally, his climax. She felt it rise in him, felt the strain of his powerful muscles as he tried to fight it.

  “Penny….”

  “Yes,” she cried, feeling, unbelievably, another climax washing over her as well. And only when she was in the throes of it did he let himself go over, joining her in a soul-stirring moment of pure ecstasy that she sensed would be a turning point of her entire life.

  * * *

  THOUGH she had worked an eighteen-hour day, endured an assault, been told the mother of all bedtime stories, and had the most incredible sex of her life, Penny couldn’t sleep.

  Lucas didn’t seem to have the same problem. He was lying beside her in the bed, naked, gorgeous, gleaming with sex-sweat. All hard, rugged male, still half-erect—wow—as if he were taking a break before starting all over again.

  Fine by me.

  But she didn’t wake him up. She needed to catch her breath, not to mention get her thoughts in order. Her brain was going a mile a minute and she wanted to figure out what she’d done…and what she intended to do. About a number of things.

  “Starting with you,” she whispered, looking up at the shelf above her head. At the package. The last gift she would ever receive from the only parent she would ever know.

  Since the day Callie had given it to her, she had never been tempted to untie the ribbon, or let her fingers tear through the paper. Any curiosity she’d felt had been overpowered by the need to hold on to her dad for a little while longer.

  But you couldn’t really hold onto things forever, could you? Not anything. Not jobs or homes or friends. Not loved ones.

  Everything came to an end sooner or later. Journeys, relationships, lives. The echo of words left unsaid and the dreams of moments left unshared…all had to end eventually.

  Knowing what she had to do, Penny sat up and grabbed the box. A kitchen light provided enough illumination, not that she needed it. She’d memorized the shape, the corners, each crease in the paper, each loop of the bow.

  Her father had wrapped this final gift himself. She recognized the crooked seam, the overuse of tape. He’d written her name on the envelope and sealed it with love.

  She couldn’t open the card yet. Couldn’t read his final words to her. That was one step beyond her capabilities.

  Instead, she reached for the ribbon. Her hand seemed distant, far away, as if someone else was untying the bow. A drop of moisture appeared on the paper. Penny saw it, knowing, of course, that hers was the hand doing this heartbreaking thing she had tried to avoid. Hers were the tears marking the moment.

  “I’m sorry, Dad,” she whispered. “I miss you.”

  She pushed the paper off to reveal a plain cardboard box. Inside was a sea of tissue paper…and something that shimmered and gleamed. She immediately knew what it was. That gleam had been too bright to be anything but a precious stone, and the object too large to be a piece of jewelry. It was a crown. She didn’t need to know anything about fairy tales to recognize that.

  The thought that her father had been playing a practical joke occurred to her. But the crown was too heavy, and appeared too old. Ornate and intricate, it was made of some solid metal and decorated with dozens of jewels, including one enormous amethyst cut in the shape of a heart.

  Tucked inside the box was a note. The handwriting was not her father’s.

  My Dear Penny—

  Happy 21st
birthday. I wish I could have been there to share this day with you, and so many before it. I love you so much. Please try on your gift and you’ll see how much. It’s belonged to the women of our family for hundreds of years.

  With all my love—Mother

  Even as sadness stabbed into her at seeing her mother’s handwriting for the first time, she also felt a sudden, overwhelming sense of peace. Because, suddenly, she knew who she was. Where she came from, who her people were.

  It was true. All true. Everything Lucas had said.

  Although it was beyond belief, she could do nothing except believe. The proof was right here in her hands.

  She glanced over at him, saw how still he was, how deep and even his breaths. How dark, dangerous-looking. Fierce. If the rest of the story was true….

  No. Don’t even think about that. Not yet, anyway.

  It was one thing to have mentally acknowledged the almost animalistic strength of the man, the power, the sexual heat of him that was more potent than any human male she’d ever known. It was another to openly admit he was truly…what he clamed to be.

  “Later,” she mumbled. She’d think about it later.

  There was something else she had to do first. Her mother had made a request of her. Grasping the crown, she lifted it toward her head. Emotions and fears, thoughts and wishes sped through her, and she already knew, somehow, that from this moment on, she was not going to be the same person, ever again.

  She closed her eyes. And lowered the crown into place.

  There was a charge of static, a jolt of energy. She almost yanked it back off, but before she could do it, a collage of images poured into her mind. “Oh, my God,” she whispered, focusing on whatever magic was laying out these scenes.

  First, a landscape, the grass so green it looked artificial. Here and there, spring flowers grew in scattered clumps—huge tulips and daffodils and some she couldn’t name that were as big as dinner plates and as rich in color as the jewels on the crown.

  Then someone came into focus. A small figure, dark-haired, running through the grass, carrying so many flowers she looked ready to fall over. When she did stumble over the hem of her long dress, a man swooped in to grab her and set her on his shoulders, both of them laughing as the blooms rained down on his head.