by Rena Marks
His fingers gripped her bare hips and pulled her down as he thrust up. It sent a tingling shock coursing through his body and he had to grit his teeth to force his climax away. Her engorged clitoris rubbed against his masculine nest of hair and his testicles slapped against her backside as he thrust again.
“Aric, oh, Aric,” she moaned and he knew just how close she was. In one smooth move, he used his superhuman strength to lift her from his huge member and slide down the bed, spinning her around and lowering her pelvis right back down…to his waiting mouth.
Her delectable backside was aimed at his face and he closed his mouth over her mound as she leaned forward, hands against his thighs and one flick of his tongue against that engorged clit sent her spiraling into ecstasy. She screamed his name and ground herself against lips and teeth.
It was enough to make his fangs explode.
Thankfully, she was too far gone to notice and she lowered her head as her sex throbbed. He held his warm mouth still over her mound, hoping his fangs would retract.
Then Sara must have noticed his waiting cock and she rolled off the condom before she sank it deeply into her throat.
He thrust his hips up at her and she swallowed him whole. A roiling boil began in his balls and moved up his cock. His thighs quivered and he exploded with a pounding ferocity that contained centuries of pent-up semen.
She swallowed his seed eagerly and he soothed her vagina with his mouth and with the warmth of his tongue. It was gentle now, comforting and soft against her tortured flesh.
Finally, she rose from him and turned herself around again. Settling onto his chest, she murmured into his neck, “Tell me when you’re ready again.”
Hot damn. It would be ten minutes, max.
Chapter Four
In the span of a week, Sara had gone from celibate to dating two men.
That first night with Aric was pure magic and she really hadn’t expected it to measure up to the times she’d spent with Beau.
They’d made love all night long and fell asleep around three o’clock. They slept for a while, until Aric kissed her right before dawn and left. A curious time to leave, but she was too tired to question it.
Honestly, there was no comparison. How did one compare oranges and apples and then decide to spend their life with one fruit only? Variety was the spice of life, wasn’t it?
Until they forced her to choose.
She figured that would happen when they learned about each other. The day came sooner than she expected. It was another cloudy, gloomy day, rain about to break out at any second. The store was quiet and Beau was picking her up for lunch. The door chimes signaled his arrival and Sara looked up.
Instead of Beau, Aric walked in.
“Aric,” she said, hoping to cover her surprise. She left the counter and made her way to him. He bent and kissed her lightly, enclosing her into the warmth of his arms.
“What are you doing here? Why didn’t you call?” she asked.
“I thought I’d surprise you. We could perhaps go out to eat.”
“Oh, I can’t. I have plans.” Plans that were walking through that door any moment.
“I should have called, I guess. I was just so eager to see you,” he murmured, near her ear and the door opened once again.
Immediately the air thickened with tension as Beau took in the sight of Aric holding Sara in his arms.
“Beau.”
“Aric.”
“You two know each other?”
They hadn’t broken their stare. “Yes,” Beau said, his voice clipped.
“I take it your lunch plans are with him?” Aric asked.
“Yes. I met Beau the same day I met you,” Sara said, gently. “I guess it wasn’t fair to date you both and not tell either of you about the other, but I never really knew how to say it.”
Then Aric did something remarkable. He smiled at her, easing her worry. “I think I’ll ask you to come over for dinner tonight then. Since you’re busy for lunch.”
It was only fair to accept. He’d come here to surprise her and gotten the shock of his life instead.
She nodded. “Of course.”
Aric’s face blazed triumph, while Beau’s looked dark with fury. His fists clenched, as if he couldn’t control himself. Sara looked at him warily and knew myriad expressions flit across her face because she’d always been expressive.
She was like an open book. All psychics were when they felt deeply. It was why they shut themselves off from the world. As Sara did now. She wrapped her slender arms across the middle of her body, the sensitive area where she “felt” things.
She wondered if Beau’s jealousy would make the decision to let him go.
“I’ll pick you up then. What time do you get off? Five?” Aric asked.
She nodded and he leaned in to kiss her cheek. “Be good, sweetheart.”
It wasn’t quite a warning, but she sensed that Aric hoped it was enough to ruin her lunch with Beau. Inhaling deeply, she opened the channel in her midsection for more of a “feeling”.
She could also feel that while it nearly tore him in two to walk away, he knew he had to.
* * * * *
Beau’s mood was quite normal when he drove her to lunch. Now that the confrontation with Aric was over. It was almost as if he were trying to win her over, make himself out to be the better candidate, win her affections. As if he guessed how she’d react if he became a jealous boyfriend.
Unfortunately, Sara felt terror when she thought of losing Aric. The same fear that curled in her when she considered losing Beau. It was a baffling feeling, for she hadn’t known either man very long. It was so horrific that she actually didn’t really want to know where it came from and pushed it as far as she could from her mind.
She was caught between two men who obviously wanted her to choose. And it felt like a familiar trap, although she’d never been in this situation.
The car rolled to a stop and Beau came around to open her door. Tall and broad-shouldered, so much larger than her, he seemed so powerful, like he’d protect her no matter what. His hot blue gaze looked directly into hers and what he saw made his eyelids grow sultry at the sight. Her hand slipped naturally into his and he placed his other hand on the small of her back. It was warm and possessive, making her feel so well cared for.
It should slip naturally, she realized. They’d been about as intimate as possible, having explored every single inch of each other’s bodies. Was it too soon for that? It was too late now to worry about it, but did she make a mistake in jumping in with both feet? Would the relationship fizzle out uncontrollably?
“You’re thinking a lot,” Beau commented, leaning down to lightly kiss her frowning brow.
It cleared and she smiled slightly, exposing dimples. “I do seem to have thoughts running together in my head,” she agreed.
“Are they of me?” he whispered, his breath hot and sweet near her ear.
“You are in them.” Her smile was full-on now.
“Stay with me tonight?”
Her smile dropped. “I can’t, Beau. I promised Aric, remember?”
“I don’t want you with him, Sara. He’s dangerous.”
She raised a brow at his imperious tone. “That’s competition talking. He hasn’t been dangerous to me.”
He inhaled sharply and there was silence for a brief moment. Sara waited. If he pushed, he’d lose. Their relationship was too new for trust.
“Tomorrow, then?” Beau asked.
“Yes, tomorrow.”
“You promise?”
“I do.”
He led her into the restaurant and they were escorted directly into a private room to a tiny table in the center.
“Special treatment?” she asked teasingly as they sat.
Beau grinned, the look so devastating it made her catch her breath. “I’m rich, baby. Also handsome and fit, no mother-in-law to deal with…”
“Stop,” she laughingly protested. “I believe you. You’re a catc
h.”
“Yeah, you caught me. Now what you gonna do with me?” He stroked her hand with his and she shivered at the feel of the warmth of his skin.
Sara marveled that Beau’s body temperature seemed hotter than hers. He was so attractive, his blue eyes laughing into hers, slightly crinkled at the corners.
“I’m going to keep you a while,” she said. “If, and that’s a big if, you’re good.”
He leaned into her. “I can be good,” he said eagerly.
“No fighting?”
His hand stilled. “With Aric, you mean?”
“Exactly.”
“What if he starts it?”
She smiled. “Then he goes to time-out and I get to spend the day with you.”
“I see how this works,” Beau said, smiling. “But if I won’t play?”
“I’ll have to pass you off to someone else who wants you then. I don’t want to, you understand, but you’ll give me no choice.”
“Who is this someone else?” he asked, teasing still. “Is she as attractive as you?”
“Oh, I don’t know about that, but this someone loves you and loved you first.”
Although they were teasing, it was scary to say the “L” word. Beau’s eyes darkened with an emotion she couldn’t define.
“Maybe you ought to give me her name and number, just in case,” he said.
“Mike Johnson. At the shop.”
His jaw dropped. “You have got to be kidding me.”
She grinned and then kissed his mouth in apology. “Sorry, sugar. I’ll make it up to you tomorrow night, okay?”
“I’ll hold you to that. And next time I call in a food order, I’m requesting someone else represent me.”
Sara winced. “He’s not going to like that.”
Beau winked at her. “Yeah and by the way, I love you too, baby.”
She’d been teasing, but the words made her stomach flutter.
* * * * *
Beau dropped her back off at work, then decided to come inside and place an order since he was there. Sara rang it up, but warned that someone else would have to deliver.
He winced and she couldn’t tell if it was because he wondered if it would be Mike, or because he remembered she’d be with Aric.
She knew it was the latter when he grabbed the back of her head and lifted her face for a hard kiss on the mouth. He forced her lips open and delved inside. Taking, possessive strokes with his tongue, teasing her senses while he satisfied his own.
“Think of that later,” he whispered and when she blinked he was gone.
He left, whistling casually, while she ached for the feel of his hard body pressed against hers.
Bemused, she wondered if she would think of the possessive, wonderfully arousing kiss when Aric took her into his arms.
A few moments later, the front door opened to Mike Johnson.
“Girl, was that Beauregard Pierson’s convertible outside?”
“Yes, it was.” Her voice was calm. She didn’t owe Mike any explanations or anything else.
“What was he doing here?”
“What do most people do here?” She held up his printed order that she was just going to fill.
“Gimme that,” Mike said, grabbed for the receipt.
It tore, the rip sounding harsh enough to make everyone else stop and stare.
“Calm down,” she snapped.
“You know I get his orders.”
“Oh, quit being so territorial, Mike.” She handed him the bottom half of the receipt and walked away.
Mike watched her feminine sway with narrowed eyes. Bitches were all the same. He could sway the same as her, but would it command the same attention? In fact, she didn’t even notice the men who looked her way, trying to catch her attention. She could have any man she wanted and the tramp chased Beauregard Pierson.
Another set of eyes also watched the unconscious sashay of Sara Michaels. These eyes were old and all knowing, the oddest shade of yellow-green, almost like a cat. They were set in a face of deep wrinkles, older even because they’d stood the test of time.
Several times.
They watched, noting everything about Sara, her size, her shape, her similarity to a certain person in the past. When she disappeared upstairs, the cat eyes focused their attention on Mike Johnson.
They studied him, somewhat harshly, until he gave an unconscious shudder and scurried away like a rat in the kitchen.
Mrs. Alizo watched as Sara walked past her office. Her telephone was pressed to her ear tightly. “Oh, Sara, honey, come here, please.”
Sara walked in and raised her eyebrow.
“I need someone to run downtown for me and pick up some vegetables from the outside market. Can you do it?”
“Sure.” Sara shrugged. It would get her away from Mike for a while.
Mrs. Alizo turned her attention back to the phone. “Okay, Duke, I’ll send one of my employees, Sara Michaels, down for it. You’ll have the box ready for her? Yup. Thanks.”
She disconnected and faced Sara. “Thanks so much. It’s the vegetable stand, his name is Duke Alkire. He has the box of veggies ready and he’ll just send me the bill. Oh and sorry, but there’s a fair going on down there too, so it’ll be a little crowded.”
Sara nodded and went to retrieve her purse.
* * * * *
Mrs. Alizo was right. It was crowded. The fair was more like a carnival with circus freaks trying to solicit everyone’s attention at every chance they got.
Sara was looking for the vegetable stand when a psychic’s tent caught her attention. Maybe this was the “better psychic in town” that Mattie had mentioned. The old woman standing outside her outrageously colored, purple and red tent was dressed as a witch. She smiled at Sara, her two teeth blackened in a face that was a mass of wrinkles, a jigsaw puzzle come to life.
“I know a secret about ye, girlie,” the old woman called out.
Sara looked at her blankly.
“’Tis an important one, come.” She beckoned.
Sara walked to her, although she wasn’t sure why. Carnival fakers were not her style. As she approached, she got a good look at the woman. Geez, her teeth weren’t blackened, they actually were missing.
“Yer life is stuck in a pattern,” the old woman whispered, her yellowish-green eyes all-knowing instead of sleazy like the usual fakers. “Ye must break the cycle.”
“A pattern? What kind of pattern?” Sara was confused at first, but then alarm hit. She covered her midsection with her arms to avoid sensing any of the woman’s feelings and hoped to feel just her own.
“A vicious reincarnation, doomed to repeat behavior. But the last time, ye tried to break it the wrong way and failed.”
“What kind of repeated behavior?”
“I’m not sure without delving into it.”
There it was. Delving would mean into Sara’s wallet.
“I’m not interested,” she said firmly and turned.
“Wait! Ye must watch and see what happened to ye in the last lifetime. Then ye must do the opposite now.” Her voice was agitated, as if she sensed Sara would walk away. She hadn’t yet asked for money.
That reason alone made the hairs on the back of Sara’s neck stand on end.
“How can I watch?”
“Find out yer name back then. We track yer body, just the spot where ye were buried and we can throw ye into a dream to relive the time frame,” she whispered, eyes suddenly huge and sunken in her face.
Was she for real? Was she telling the truth?
“How can I find out?”
“Yer name is similar in every lifetime, because ye are stuck in a warp. Just like ye look similar, until whatever goal ye were meant to accomplish is done. So it should be easy enough to research in these modern days of computers and libraries. Come along, step into my tent. Let’s speak further,” she coaxed.
It was so tempting, but Sara refused to be a sucker. If the woman’s story was real, it would also be real tomorro
w. There was no reason for urgency.
“Sorry,” Sara said, glancing at her watch. “I’m on the clock.”
She began to walk away.
The old biddy tried one last time. “Ye must be careful of vampires and werewolves,” she called out.
That clinched it. The old bat was crazy. Sara continued to walk without a backward glance.
When she was away from the old woman’s tent, the vegetable stand was right in her line of vision. Why hadn’t she seen it first and saved herself from the old loony woman? Confusion hit her and she pushed it to the back of her mind when she noticed a hunchbacked old man moving slowly just ahead of her.
“Hi, I’m Sara Michaels,” she called as he set out vegetables. He moved slowly, his skin paper-thin and tinged with gray. A shock of white hair adorned his head.
His eyes were black, the color of his pupils merging with his iris into one giant hole. They never once seemed to blink.
He hauled a box up from under the counter and set it on top without a word.
Sara shivered. People were creepy down here and it was broad daylight.
“Okay, I’ll just take this then?” Sara asked.
He didn’t answer. He just continued to stare at her, zombie-like. Weirded out, Sara lifted the box and turned, knowing he’d yell out if that wasn’t what she was supposed to do.
She glanced around to leave, box in her arms and looked about her, wanting to avoid the old woman.
Sara’s mouth went dry and she blinked her eyes, not believing the proof that was before her. Not only was the old witch nowhere in sight, but her tent had completely disappeared.
* * * * *
True to his word, Aric’s car was waiting for her when she left the shop at five. It was Friday, she would have dinner with him and stay the night at Beau’s tomorrow.
“Oh, but I drove to work today,” she said to the driver when he came to collect her. “I can’t just leave my car.”
“Not a problem, ma’am. Mr. Ishee said for us to take your car back to your residence for you. Your keys, please?”
She placed her car keys into his hand and he helped her into the limo.
The drive to Aric’s house was over before she knew it and the limo driver again helped her out of the car.
