Her Wild Protector (Paranormal Romance)

by Naomi Bellina

  Tara could tell Marshall and his companions had weathered a few storms together. No one panicked and their relaxed attitude set Tara’s mind at ease. She soon sank into the easy flow of the group, and as she laughed along with them reflected that this was the most fun she’d had in some time. A Scrabble board and a dictionary were produced, along with a Monopoly set, and Tara found out just how knowledgeable her companions were. The competition soon became wicked and Tara joined in wholeheartedly, determined to show these people she was not afraid to play rough.

  At around noon they took a pause to make sandwiches and coleslaw, then settled back into the games. Maybe insulating herself from the world to avoid pain was not the best idea, Tara thought as the day went on. It might be time to open her heart, even at the risk of being hurt again. She watched Marshall as they played. He was at ease, his guard down. As she’d suspected, he was a lot of fun and though she knew the alcohol contributed to his high spirits, she also sensed he had an enjoyable personality when he was not under stress and his dark demons took a vacation.

  Finally, toward late afternoon, Emma stretched and yawned loudly.

  “I’m about ready for a nap,” she said, and turning to her husband, winked broadly.

  Even in the dim light Tara saw Craig’s nostrils flare and she could swear the temperature in the room rose ten degrees. He licked his lips and his eyes followed his wife’s movements as her arms rose above her head and her tank top lifted to reveal her bejeweled belly button.

  “Anyway, it’s time for the last push on the stock market. We don’t want to miss that, do we, hon? I think we can pick up the report on our cell phone.”

  “Stock market?” Tara asked.

  Craig chuckled. “You can take the girl out of New York, but you can’t totally take New York out of the girl. She loves her day trading. And she loves a good nap during a storm.”

  “It keeps this old girl’s blood flowing,” Emma said, and Tara thought the very air would burst into flame if the looks the two lovebirds traded got any more scorching.

  Marshall apparently picked up the same vibes. He cleared his throat.

  “We’ll be fine here. You two go on home. We’ll call if anything comes up.”

  “Don’t count on that. I’m sure the phone lines are down by now. Just holler out the window if you need us. Try not to.”

  They departed, arms wrapped around each other’s waist.

  The room suddenly seemed very small. Tara was all too aware of Marshall and their mutual attraction. Her nerve endings were raw and her heightened senses almost on overload. She was suddenly tired of being so timid, of not going after what she really wanted. Right now, she desperately wanted Marshall. She stood and went to him, took his hand and put it on her breast.

  “When this is over, I may never see you again,” she said simply.

  He gathered her into his arms.

  “I know,” he answered and bent to kiss her.

  His mouth covered hers hungrily, the touch of his lips lighting a fire in her veins. Her body reacted to his and she pressed into him, moaning with desire. The pull she’d felt since they met grew stronger with this physical contact, and she badly needed to feel the touch of his skin on hers. With shaking hands she began to unbutton his shirt. He felt the same sense of urgency and pushed her away, then ripped the garment off his body.

  For just a moment he looked at her intently. Fire burned in those gold-flecked eyes and they seemed to drink her up. Then his lips were on hers again, his tongue exploring her mouth, sending a wave of desire through her body. She returned his kiss with a passion that surprised her. Never had she felt such longing for a man. Her panties were drenched and her nipples were almost painfully hard. She knew part of it was purely physical. Marshall was certainly attractive and sexy, but this intense longing for him came from a place deep in her soul. On some level, she connected completely with this man. Wrapped in his arms was the place she needed to be. Like the yin-yang symbol, they fit together to form a perfect circle.

  His hands fumbled with her zipper and they stepped apart again, pulling off the remainder of their clothing. He gazed at her naked body, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

  “You are the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen,” he said hoarsely and scooped her into his arms. He pressed his lips to hers again and kissed her all the way to her bedroom. This time he took her mouth with a savage intensity, causing a shiver to run down her spine as she anticipated the ferocity of his desire. She felt him vibrate with a barely contained urgency. He laid her on the bed and kneeled next to it.

  His hands explored her body, starting at her neck and running down to her breasts. He squeezed her mounds, pinching each pink tip then taking the nipple into his mouth. His tongue licked the hard peaks, bringing a moan from deep inside her. She writhed in ecstasy as his fingers made their way between her legs. He gently explored, stroking her wet folds. When his thumb made contact with her clit, she cried out loud.

  “Is that too hard?” he asked in a guttural voice. She heard the deep longing, a tone almost one of pain.

  “No, it’s not. I’m just…I’m terribly aroused right now and that spot is sensitive…”

  “I’ll slow down,” he said, moving his hands back up her body to caress her torso. “I’m on the edge, too. I want this to last.”

  He climbed into the bed with her and they lay side by side. She buried her nose in his neck, drinking in his scent. It reminded her of the air after a thunderstorm. She rose to her knees and bent over him, kissing and licking everywhere, wanting to know every inch of his glorious body. She stopped finally at his rigid cock and felt him tremble as she ran light fingers up and down the shaft. He groaned loudly when she took it in her mouth. A fresh burst of wetness drenched her pussy at the thought of his hard length inside her.

  “You have to stop, I won’t last long if you keep that up,” he said, his voice hoarse with need. He gently eased out of her mouth. “Turn over.”

  She complied. He kissed the back of her neck, then worked his way down her spine, licking and tasting. When he got to her ass he bit her cheek and she yelped with surprise and delight. She loved to have her partner nibble on her skin. How did he know? He continued trailing kisses to her feet, then flipped her over and traveled back up the front side. He stopped at her mouth and once again kissed her with an urgency that left her mouth raw. He laid his body on top of hers, his erection pressed into her, hard and throbbing.

  She wrapped her legs and arms around him. As their bodies entwined, a burst of energy surged, like nothing she’d ever felt before. Was this part of him and his other self, or was this a power they generated together? It felt as though they were connected and the very air around them was electrified.

  “I don’t have any diseases and I can’t impregnate you,” he whispered.

  “I’m good to go, too,” she replied, and shivered with delight as the tip of his cock probed her opening.

  He slid inside her, slowly filling her fully and eliciting a groan from them both. She felt every delicious inch penetrate her being. He lay there for a heartbeat, as though savoring the moment. Then he rose up to his hands and his movements grew more urgent. She wrapped her legs around his back, lifting up to meet his thrusts. With a guttural cry he threw his head back and she felt him shudder his release.

  He lowered himself and they clung together, their sweat-soaked bodies joined as one. He rolled them to the side, his still-hard cock inside her. He caressed her face with one hand and reached the other between her legs to again stroke her clit. Tara dug her fingers into his arms and within moments arched her back and gasped out his name as a climax rocked through her.

  They both lay still, their breathing synchronized. Tara sighed with pleasure and though she wanted to talk to Marshall, a deep drowsiness overcame her. She let herself drift off to sleep, nestled in his arms.

  Sometime later, Tara rolled over in the bed and her hand hit a warm, solid object. Marshall. She smiled, her whole body sin
ging with joy. So this was what it was to be utterly and completely content. The sound of gentle snoring let her know Marshall was asleep, so she closed her eyes and drifted off again, the memory of their lovemaking playing at the edges of her thoughts like a happy tune.

  A sharp noise woke her from her blissful slumber. She lay for a moment, listening. The storm still blew, but she knew what she’d heard was not the sound of wind and rain. She tried to ignore it and go back to sleep, but her senses alerted her to the presence of danger. Someone or something evil was nearby. After several more moments another noise sounded.

  “Marshall,” she whispered shaking his shoulder. “I hear something.”

  “Of course you do, there’s a storm going on,” he murmured and threw an arm around her, pulling her in close.

  “No, something else. It sounded like a gunshot.”

  He sat up quickly and swung his legs over the bed.

  “Stay here,” he whispered, pulling his pants off the floor.

  “Hell no,” she said. “I’m coming with you.” She grabbed her own clothes and they both dressed hurriedly.

  “Wait here while I get a flashlight and my weapon.” Marshall crept to his room and came back holding a gun in one hand and a flashlight in the other.

  “I’m going to look around the house. Don’t come out of this room until I tell you to.” Tara hugged her arms across her body. The temperature in the house seemed to have dropped. She danced from one foot to the other, waiting as Marshall prowled the small house, hoping the noises were only her imagination working overtime.

  Her enhanced senses told her otherwise. Someone was on the island and was coming after them.

  “There’s no one here,” he said, and just then Tara saw a glow out of the corner of her eye.

  “There!” She pointed out the window. “I saw a light.”

  Marshall turned to look.

  “It’s gone now. It was right by the Henderson’s place.”

  “I’m going to their cottage. You stay here.”

  Marshall handed her his gun.

  “Do you know how to shoot one of these?”

  “Not really.”

  “Here’s the safety. Push it like this, then pull the trigger. Keep the doors locked. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  “I want to come with you. I don’t want to stay here alone. I have a bad feeling.”

  “It’s too dangerous. Bolt the doors and get in a closet. If someone is out there, I’ll see them come in. You’re safer here.”

  “No, I’m coming with you.” Tara put her hands on her hips. She knew Marshall was trying to keep her safe, but her gut feeling screamed to get out of this house and to stay close to him.

  Marshall sighed. “Get your shoes on then. Let’s go.” He retrieved another flashlight from the kitchen for her and they pushed open the back door. The wind howled like a banshee and tried to tear the door from their hands. Rain pelted down in sheets, instantly soaking them both.

  Marshall grabbed her hand and they made their way down the paved path to the cottage. The front door was open and swung wildly.

  He pulled her up onto the small covered porch.

  “Stay right here.” He drew his weapon and slowly made his way inside. Tara shivered, partly from the chill but mostly from a cold dread. Something was terribly wrong—she could feel it. A malevolent presence was nearby and they were in danger. Her teeth chattered like the dice they’d rolled earlier and goose bumps rose on her arms. Finally, she couldn’t stand it any longer and stepped inside the dark house.

  “Marshall?” she called softly, then louder, “Marshall?” Her flashlight beam hit something and as she moved closer, she saw it was Emma. On the floor, in a pool of dark liquid. Craig was right next to her, his head skewed at an impossible angle. Neither of them moved.

  A scream rose in her throat and she bit her lip to keep it in.

  “What are you doing here?” Marshall’s voice startled her and she jumped.

  “Go, get out.” He propelled her to the door, one arm around her waist.

  “They’re dead, aren’t they?” she yelled over the howl of the wind.

  Marshall kept a tight grip on her arm and they ran back to the main house. Once inside, he shut and locked the door.

  “Get some dry clothes on and take this gun and shut yourself in a closet. I’m going to get an emergency beacon from the storage shed and try to get a signal with my cell phone.”

  “Why would someone kill Emma and Craig?”

  “I don’t know. Both of their weapons were nearby, so they intended to put up a fight. Tara, please do what I say, take the gun and get in the closet after you lock the door behind me. I’ll bang on it four times for you to let me back in.” Marshall yanked open a drawer in the kitchen and pulled out a set of keys. “I’ll be right back.”

  “What about you? You’re unarmed now.”

  “I grabbed Craig’s weapon. Don’t worry about me.”

  He ran the back of his hand down her cheek and gazed at her steadily. The passion she’d seen hours ago was replaced by tenderness and concern. “Nothing is going to happen to you.”

  The determination she heard in his voice and the grim set of his mouth slowed her racing heart a bit and a measure of her terror subsided. She stripped off her wet clothes and changed, hands shaking as she pulled up the zipper of her jeans. Her mouth was dry and as she crouched on the floor of the closet, she realized she had to pee. She tried to put the thought out of her mind, but the more she did the greater the sense of urgency became. This situation was bad enough, she decided, without adding the discomfort and embarrassment of urine-soaked pants to the night. She eased open the closet door and peeked around the bedroom, listening intently. There was no one in the house, she was certain.

  Tiptoeing down the hall, she held the gun in one hand and felt her way along the wall with the other. There was a faint glow coming from the bathroom, and she remembered they’d left a small battery-powered lantern burning there. Once inside, she eased the door partway shut, wincing as the hinges squeaked. Cursing herself for this ridiculous automatic gesture, she left the door where it was, dropped her drawers and quickly emptied her bladder.

  There. Now she could think straight. She picked up the lantern, stuck her head out the door and listened intently for any unusual sounds, but only heard the wind and rain. Creeping down the hall, she turned the corner to the bedroom and there, next to the dresser, was a tabby cat, shaking water off itself.

  Tara froze. The animal looked at her and she could swear it smiled, seconds before it morphed into a man. Denzel, from the coffee shop. She turned to run but he reached her first, grabbed her arm and squeezed hard. She dropped the gun and the lantern with a yelp of pain. He scooped up the weapon and pointed it at her head.

  Suddenly, four loud knocks rang out from the back door and Marshall yelled her name. Tara didn’t move. They both started at the sound of the back door breaking. Denzel grabbed her and pulled her to him, the gun against her temple.

  Marshall burst into the bedroom, his weapon up, flashlight shining straight at Denzel. “Let her go.”

  “I don’t think so,” Denzel said. The pressure of the barrel increased and Tara whimpered. “Get that fucking light out of my eyes or I’ll shoot her right now.”

  “You pull that trigger, I pull mine. You’re not going to get off this island for a while, and I’ll make sure every minute you spend here is pure agony.”

  Denzel lowered his gun. “Okay, I won’t shoot her. But the next person they send after her will.”

  “You tell your rogues to leave her alone. She’s going to have a procedure done and won’t be able to see you anymore. She’s not a threat. You hurt her and you’re going to have to answer to DOSA.”

  Denzel laughed. “You don’t get it, do you? You always were naive, Marshall. Who the hell do you think sent me here? Your own precious organization. Oh, don’t look so surprised. They use us corrupt rogues when they don’t want to sully their own hand
s with dirty work. You were going to be given the honor but I guess they decided to let a real professional do the job.”

  “Why do they want Tara dead? Dr. Freeman said…”

  “The doc is full of shit. He lied to you. There’s no way to fix her, other than a bullet to her pretty head. Come on Marshall, relax. This is not the first person you’ve killed to protect DOSA and it won’t be the last.”

  “No, there has to be a way to reverse whatever happened to her brain.”

  “Maybe there is, but it’s not worth the time to find out. I shoot her, she goes missing, drowns in a tragic boating accident, an easy solution to the problem.”

  “Since when did DOSA start solving problems that way?” Marshall asked. “They’ve already threatened her with dire consequences if she talks about them. She’s promised to cooperate.”

  Even in the dim light, Tara saw his features distorted with rage.

  “Since long before you and I came on board, trust me. This is the sure, easy way out for them. Why take any chances on an unimportant human? DOSA is not the fine, upstanding organization you think it is, and if you have any sense, you’ll quit them and come join me.”

  “I don’t kill innocent people for money.”

  “You kill people DOSA tells you to. How do you know who’s innocent?”

  Tara tried to move and Denzel tightened his grip and brought his gun back up to her head.

  “Let’s just get this over with now,” he said.

  “No one will believe I was in a boating accident. I hate boats,” Tara said, struggling to keep calm. Looking into Denzel’s cold gray eyes, icy fingers danced along her spine.

  “Okay, so you didn’t get on a boat, you decided to go for a swim. You had a few too many drinks, insisted on going out in these rough waters. I’ll pay a few witnesses to corroborate. Your body will never be found.”

  “There’ll be an investigation…” Her voice shook.

  “You watch too much television, little girl. There won’t be much of an investigation and what there is, DOSA will be in charge of. The right people will be paid off and no one will care about you.”