by Vivien Dean
The cotton slid easily down her legs, and Seamus licked his lips. “You don’t say.”
“Are you going to show me why?”
He wanted to, not only to drive her wild, but to put his mouth to her body and taste her. “Yes.”
She wet her lips, an adorable anticipation lighting up her face. “Right here on the counter?”
“You like the idea?”
“More than I should.”
“Says who?” He teased her by grazing his fingertips over the sensitive flesh at the apex of her thighs as he bent closer. “That society you’re always talking about?”
The sound of her shallow, strained breaths filled the kitchen as her legs inched apart in silent invitation. “I want it more than I thought possible.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” This close, he could feel the heat of her on his tongue before he even touched her. And then he did.
Her breath caught and her knees knocked into his shoulders as she let out a choked noise that mixed pleasure with surprise. She moaned, and fabric ripped a second before her fingers thrust into his hair, the tattered remains of her shirt hanging from one arm. “Seamus.”
To speak, he’d have to raise his head, and he was nowhere near ready to relinquish the warm taste of her. Not yet.
One heel dug into his back as she squirmed, tugging at his hair in time with her short, gasping moans. “This is—this is so good, so wicked.”
He turned his head and bit the inside of her thigh. “Wicked?”
She snarled and tightened her fingers in his hair as power swelled, fierce dominant magic that trembled with her pleasure even as it challenged him.
It was a sweet challenge, and one Seamus couldn’t resist. He eased her off the counter and turned her over it. He dropped a single kiss on the smooth line of her spine and held her hips still. “Say yes.”
A glass of wine sends them back in time. But only one of them remembers who they are.
The Enchanted Inn
© 2007 Pam Champagne
It's bad enough that a wrong turn in a snowstorm forces Gina to take shelter at an out-of-the-way inn. Her ex-fiancé Luke is stranded there, too. The man she left when she caught him in bed with another woman.
A glass of wine at dinner, and Gina wakes up in a bed with Luke by her side. It's the same inn, but it's the year 1778 and Luke insists his name is John. And he says she's an indentured servant, Rachel.
Gina has to quickly learn primitive tasks like dip candles and cook without a microwave. While John is delighted that his normally reserved lover has become a wildcat in bed, her outspoken opinions could put them all in danger.
For Gina, it's like a second chance with Luke. But when an innocent mistake turns their newly discovered love upside down, Gina realizes how big a mistake she made when she left Luke.
Gina never gives up hope of going back to her own time, and she's determined to take John with her—whether he wants to go or not.
Enjoy the following excerpt for The Enchanted Inn:
She took the plunge. “My name is Gina Locke and you’re Luke Harding. Ruth McPherson sent us here on Christmas Eve, 2006. Don’t you remember? We were sitting in the living room, drinking her homemade elderberry wine.”
John studied her face for a long moment then threw back his head and roared with laughter. “Do continue. I did not know you were a weaver of tales.”
Gina choked back tears of frustration and rose to her knees to grasp his shoulders. “This is not a story. It’s the truth.” She fought the urge to shake him.
“Come here.” John tugged her close. “That knock on the head must have been a bad one.”
Gina sighed. “You don’t believe me?”
“Shall I tell you what I believe? You hit your head and had a dream. When you woke, you clung to the dream as reality.” He kissed her forehead. “We must be patient. Your memory will return.”
If only yours would. Gina huddled closer, lapping up his caresses and murmured phrases of concern. Still, his concern didn’t calm her fears of remaining in the past. If John remembered who he was—that he’d been her lover in another time—she’d be willing to accept her situation. One thing was certain. There was no way John was going to listen tonight. So she sighed and said, “Perhaps I’m dreaming right now. How old am I?”
“Four and twenty as of last month. Now be silent and kiss me.”
She turned her head away to escape his lips, now feathering her cheek.
“What is wrong?” Gina heard genuine puzzlement in his voice.
“I don’t feel like having sex with someone who doesn’t trust me…who thinks I’m…I’m daft.” God, it seemed so strange to use that word.
“Try to understand,” he coaxed. “I’ve been with you at this inn for three years. One morning I wake to find a different person inside the body of the woman I love. We must become reacquainted.”
Gina couldn’t argue that his reasoning wasn’t sound. For tonight, she’d put her problems in the closet. Looping her arms around his neck, she captured his lips. For an instant, he grew rigid at her aggression before his mouth opened to her questing tongue. Within seconds, their raspy breathing sounded loud in the otherwise silent room. Gina tugged and yanked on John’s clothes, never losing lip contact.
He tore his mouth away. “Wait. I will do it.”
Gina bit back a smile at the haste with which John stripped off his clothes. She pressed against him as he slipped in bed and gasped at the thrill of pleasure that shot through her. His body sliding against hers started a tingling in her breasts that worked its way down to her toes.
She kneaded the knots in his back until he relaxed. Luke always had loved that. There wasn’t an ounce of softness on his body. Feeling his cock against her stomach, she reached between his legs and ran her hand over its smooth sheath. “Hmmm…like silk.”
Hands on her shoulders, he pushed her away. “Rachel! What are you doing?”
“Don’t you like it?” she whispered, trailing kisses across his chin to his mouth. She swallowed his next words. Her tongue slipped between his teeth.
John groaned and tightened his hands on her arms before sliding them around her back. His erection grew in her hands. Yet, it seemed he didn’t know the first thing about pleasing a woman and had no clue what a woman could do to please him. Gina wouldn’t have been satisfied with the sex life John and Rachel must have had. Probably a quick slam-bam process. God, she was confused. Right now, all she wanted was a release from her worries.
Since she was stuck in this godforsaken century with no home and no money, she sure as hell was going to enjoy herself with a man who, if by some horrible twist of fate turned out not to be Luke, was his double.
A sob tore at her throat. Please, Luke, remember me.
John pushed her to mattress and thrust his knee between her legs. “I will have you now, Rachel.”
She giggled. How formal and how rude. “I don’t think so. We’re not through playing.”
He drew back. The last candle flickered and died. She couldn’t see, yet sensed his gaze on her face. “Play? Whatever do you mean?”
Gina drew his hands to her breasts. His sudden intake of air sounded like he’d been sucker punched. She held his trembling fingers and brushed them over her hardened nipples. He didn’t need any more tutoring.
“That feels so good, John. Don’t stop.”
He played with her breasts, making her wetter. She ran her hands up his chest and tweaked his nipples. His cock twitched. Snaking her hands down his belly, she grasped it and gently pumped its length, eliciting a drawn-out groan.
If only she could take him in her mouth. Poor John. He would more than likely run back to the stables as if the devil were after him. She wanted to laugh, remembering he’d called her a lusty wench. Obviously, he didn’t know the meaning of the word.
Then a thought struck her as fast as a bolt of lightning. Could the real Rachel be back in the present in Gina’s body getting it on with Luke? No, th
at couldn’t happen. This was Luke in bed with her. She had to believe that or she’d crumble.
She jumped as a jolt of pleasure-filled pain shot through her. John had grown bold and captured a nipple between his lips. He sucked. For such a big man, everything he did was gentle. Tonight she didn’t want gentle. She wanted to forget and lose herself in the moment.
John wiped beaded sweat from his forehead. Who was this pliant woman stroking him as if it were an everyday occurrence? What had happened to the woman he had come to love? Rachel had never been this passionate. Would never have handled his manhood with such boldness. His concerns vanished as lust overtook him.
He ran his lips across one nipple. Her moans of pleasure excited him, brought him to his limit of stimulation. Grasping her hips, he pulled her under his body and settled between her spread thighs. He took a deep breath and resisted the temptation to plunge himself to the hilt. Rachel did not care for frantic coupling. Tentative as always, he ground his teeth in frustration and slowly pushed into her moist warmth…and almost died with joy. Rachel was moister than she’d ever been. Proof that she wanted him with equal fervor. He pushed again, gaining another two inches. He hesitated and rested his forehead on hers, willing his body to remain under his control. She would be angry if he was too rough.
Suddenly, the woman beneath him raised her legs and wrapped them high around his waist. The new position opened her wider and drove him over the edge. All rational thought fled. He thrust hard with no thought of her discomfort until he was fully embedded. He breathed like a hard-ridden horse. “I’m sorry,” he gasped. “Did I hurt you?”
Expecting to hear cries of protest, her words shocked him. “Don’t stop. Please.”
He was nearing the brink of explosion and strove to please the lady. He captured her cries with his mouth, his manhood swelling when clenched by her feminine muscles. He rocked his body a few more times and emptied his seed deep in her womb. She continued to squirm underneath him.
“Rachel?” he asked in a hoarse voice. “What are you do—”
Her lips sought his in a wrenching kiss. Stunned, he held on tightly as she spasmed around his shrinking manhood. He could not believe that he grew hard again. Unable to control the need to couple for the second time, he pushed to his knees. Her legs slipped off his back. He grasped under her knees and pulled her tight against his groin, working her hips back and forth. With the second explosion, he collapsed. “Rachel, by all that’s sacred, you are going to kill me.”
“Don’t,” she protested when he started to roll away. “Stay inside me.”
Totally confused at this turn of events, John stayed put. He was shrinking and knew he’d soon slip out of her moist center. His heart thumped wildly. “Are you all right?”
“Hmmm…” she murmured. “That was good.”
This woman may look like his love, but she was not his Rachel. He was no doctor, but he did not think a simple bump on the head would turn a proper lady into a wanton woman. He frowned, unsure of his feelings. Rachel was the woman he wanted to marry. A wife to bear his children. God-fearing women did not behave like this. No matter how much he loved their coupling this night, did he want to marry a woman such as this?
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