TIA'S MATE (Shifters of the Bulgarian Bloodline Book 1)

by Dalia Wright

  It was all insane, yet at this moment in time, Tia needed him there, inside her, stabbing into her soul. Something about his scent drove her crazy, clouded her brain like a drug, which accumulated from his proximity. She desired him – a vague thought in her head registered that maybe this was some sort of wolfy pheromones triggering a chemical reaction in her brain – but she also discarded that in favor of ascending with him to that place where orgasms happened.

  His chest hairs scratched over her breasts, hardening her nipples further. He plunged his mouth onto hers in quick snatches of lip and tongue, seeking the close contact, the warmth, the intimacy – somehow, the lip contact felt more sacred than their cores slotted together.

  When she realized that this felt like so much more than a quick, casual screw, it caused a tight, coiling sensation to bundle in her stomach. Her thighs trembled and twitched, her toes curled as he thrust into her faster, his brow sweating in perspiration as he hit the sweet spot. She arched her back and clawed at his, mouth opening in a long moan of pleasure as the orgasm, built up to the max, now began to ripple through.

  It didn’t stop after the normal six to eight seconds, either. It kept going, radiating through her, and every limb shuddered from bliss.

  Her inner walls clenched around him, and he hissed, before orgasming mere seconds after her, releasing inside her, shivering along with her.

  Boneless, she flopped onto the sofa, eyes fixated on the ceiling light, brain floating from the overdose of endorphins.

  She felt him leave her, and drop onto her side, adjusting himself into a comfortable position. His arm draped over her front protectively, and he nuzzled into her neck.

  Neither of them bothered to speak, both equally stunned but floating from the rush of unexpected happiness.

  Temporary happiness.

  “I don’t want you to leave,” Tia said, the conviction of her word clogging her lungs. “At least until we’ve had sex for like a million more times. Because that was something.”

  He chuckled into her neck, the first real sound of mirth she had ever heard from him. Amber eyes blinked languidly at her. They made her wonder if she could fall deeply in love. She saw the possibility. She felt it.

  “Tempting. You feel as good as you look and smell. I am glad at your persistence in keeping me around.”

  “I have been known for persistence, yes. Along with a terrible taste in jokes. Like, check this one out. Hear about the girl who lost her left arm and left leg? She’s ‘alright’ now.”

  He furrowed his brow, unimpressed. “I am not sure if saying that straight after we have had sex is best timing.”

  “It’s the best time,” Tia disagreed. “Because you’re in a good enough mood to listen to it without wanting to bash my skull in.”

  He sighed, and buried his head into her shoulder. “Strange human.”

  “You love it.” She nudged him affectionately, before exhaling a sigh. “Maybe it was bad timing for us with the sex.”

  He began kissing her neck, touching soft, delicate parts that made her spine ripple in pleasure. “Or maybe we both needed to forget.”

  Tia squeezed her eyes shut, heart sinking at the truth. “Yes. We did.” She tilted her face to press foreheads together. “After tonight, will I ever see you again?”

  Dilated amber eyes met hers with affection. “I do not know.” His voice shook. “Is not because I do not want to. Is because, I might be dead soon. The Lubanovs – they left me a poisoned legacy. Is hard to run from that kind of background without death meeting you someplace. Not that my father and I didn’t try. It just caught up with him. It is gunning for me.”

  The cocktail of warmth, happiness and increased feelings of intimacy dulled with the statement, made her happiness lose some of the shine.

  “I hope I will see you again. I’m not sure if I want to lose you so soon. And maybe we both need a lot more forgetting.”

  “Yes,” he agreed, a gentle smile caressing his lips. “But you have number. And you have me, and I have you for this night. We may not be doing traveling together so soon, but we can travel in spirit.”

  They melded their bodies together, stealing warmth from one another’s skins, doing little else other than to stroke each other’s cheeks, and unflinchingly meet eyes. When Tia finally fell asleep, it was naked and in his arms, under the soft snoring that came from his mouth.

  Waking up the next day had her stirring in bed, under warm, fresh sheets, with pajamas back on. He had carried her here and placed her clothes on at some point in the night. The idea of such a tender gesture made her heart jump in slight pain.

  She didn’t want to lose the man with the amber eyes so soon. Not when they had barely begun to explore the depths of one another, and not when she had just found out about the mechanisms of an underworld, working hand in hand with the normal realm of humans. She recalled his talk about the countries across the world, and his surprise at her lack of exploration. She remembered the images of Bruges on his phone.

  Sunlight burst through her window, dappling over her bedcovers. Her eyes alighted on her cellphone, resting on the bedside table, and she stretched over for it, taking it off standby.

  One text message showed. She thumbed it open.

  Danny: I do not regret meeting you. Sleep well. Wake happy. Be good and safe.

  She texted him back, feeling an immense pang of inexplicable loss.

  I miss you. How strange. I’ve only known you for one night. Yet there is space here for you.

  The reply came back a minute later.

  Danny: There is space here, too. We will meet again. Be strong.

  Tia hugged the phone to her breast. She hoped so. She really did. She had the world to explore after all.

  The End

  The Preacher’s Daughter’s Secret

  By: Elaine Young

  CHAPTER ONE:

  Jake Owenson was crossing across Central Park on his way home when he saw Rosalie Mitchell standing in the corner of Fifth and 86th happily munching away on a hotdog. He did a double take and skidded to a stop.

  Was it? He asked himself. Could it be? He couldn’t believe his eyes and had to blink twice to make sure he wasn’t imagining things; after all, it had been more than six years since he had last laid eyes on the then twelve-year-old girl. He remembered a round, chubby face that always seemed to be smiling, mischief-filled blue eyes, and two thick golden, blond braids hanging over her shoulders. And before him stood a young woman on the cusp of womanhood. She was beautiful with her blond hair flowing in loose waves down her back, with a long, flowery dress that accentuated her shapely and graceful figure. He couldn’t be sure it was her, but he took a stab at it anyways.

  “Rosalie?”

  The slender girl turned at the sound of her name and searched the faces nearby to locate the voice. Her eyes skimmed over him – they were still the blue he remembered, but she obviously hadn’t recognized him. He took a few steps in her direction and called out to her again.

  “Rosalie, it’s me, Jake.”

  Her eyes snapped back towards him and recognition dawned on her face. She did a little two-step of excitement and clasped her hands together in delight.

  “Jake! Jake Owenson! How long has it been!”

  “Long enough that you didn’t recognize me!” he teased.

  “How could I when you’ve grown up so much! You are positively handsome now,” she teased him right back, thinking of the lanky, awkward boy of six years ago. There was definitely nothing awkward about him now. The boyish features had filled out into a handsome face and the lanky frame looked solid and athletic. His floppy brown hair was groomed into a close cut which accentuated the straight nose and the strong jaw. Even his walk was different, she noted – it was cool and confidant.

  He blushed a little at the compliment, thinking how very grown up she had become. The girl he remembered had been rebellious and outspoken; some things had obviously remained unchanged.

  “What are you doing in t
he city?”

  “Enjoying some freedom! I’m here for Rumspringa,” she explained.

  “Oh,” Jake said, a dark cloud briefly shadowed on his face as he recalled his Rumspringa and his subsequent banishment from the community when he had decided he didn’t want to commit to the Amish faith.

  “Did you come with a lot of people?”

  “Nope, just on my own. But father doesn’t know that. He thinks Janice Greely, Isabelle Hendrix and I came together. Which we did, but we’re all doing our thing, and I haven’t seen them since getting here.”

  “Still being rebellious, huh.”

  “You know me,” she said lightly.

  “So are you enjoying your trip so far?”

  “I’m loving the trip! I think I might be falling in love with New York,” she gushed.

  “That’s how I felt when I came here. And I never looked back.”

  “Well I can see how that would happen.” She looked at her watch and looked at him. “Anyways, I won’t keep you much longer, I’m sure you were headed somewhere….”

  Jake was about to say that yes, he was on his way to a meeting, when he experienced an odd stirring within him. Gazing straight into her clear blue, sparkling eyes, he realized the emotion he was experiencing was attraction. And not just a passing attraction or appreciation for a good-looking woman, but a very physical longing to stay in her company, a reluctance to not let her go just yet. He realized he felt intrigued by her and wanted to spend more time with her. In fact, he wanted to ask her out, which wouldn’t be smart at all because she wasn’t a girl to trifled with, and he couldn’t offer her anything more because he was no longer a part of her world. Telling himself he must be logical, he prepared himself to say goodbye and to tell her it had been lovely seeing her, but he found himself asking her if she had any plans for the evening instead. As she happily told him her evening was wide open, he told himself it was just one dinner – how much harm could it really do?

  CHAPTER TWO:

  He was on top of her. Kissing every inch of her body. Well familiar with the touch of his skillful hands, Rosalie closed her eyes, anticipating his next move, aching to be consumed by his love. But just as things started to heat up her stomach rolled over and a wave of nausea startled Rosalie out of her sleep and broke through her dream. Her eyes snapped open and she realized with a whoosh of intense disappointment that it had all been nothing but a dream. She sat up straight and waited for the nausea to subside, but it didn’t and had her running for the bathroom. Once she was done she washed her face with cold water and buried her face in the towel waiting for the queasy feeling in her stomach to subside.

  This was the fifth night in a row she was waking up nauseous and sick. She could only conclude that she was so lovesick it was having a physical effect on her. Memories of the time she had spent with Jake in New York were crowding into her dreams now; she thought of him all day and all night…couldn’t help it…would she ever be free of him? It wasn’t very likely given everything that had transpired between them from the moment they had run into each other a few months ago. As she stepped out in to the hallway, the door across from her bedroom opened and Amanda’s concerned face peeked out.

  “Rosalie?” Her sister’s voice was groggy from sleep. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, everything’s fine,” Rosalie assured her, “Go back to sleep.”

  Amanda stifled a yawn and nodded.

  “Okay – if you’re sure.”

  Rosalie made her way back into bed and muffled her groans of frustration into her pillow. Why couldn’t she stop thinking about him? From the moment she had run into him by Central Park, her entire trip had quickly become centered around him. After that first dinner together they had become virtually inseparable. Things between them had moved at a shockingly fast pace. Part of it was timing constraints, since both Jake and Rosalie knew they wouldn’t have much time together, they didn’t bother wasting any by playing games. But part of it was they had clicked instantly. And the physical attraction was undeniable.

  She remembered their first kiss… It had happened after two weeks of seeing each other almost every day. They were watching the skaters at Rockfeller Center when she had turned to him and asked him bluntly why he had made no attempts to kiss her or touch her at all.

  “Don’t you find me attractive?”

  Jake had been flabbergasted by the question.

  “Of course I do,” he replied.

  “Then why haven’t you kissed me yet?”

  “Because… because Rosalie, you are so innocent and so pure, I can’t do that to you, especially when I can’t offer you anything more than whatever this is.”

  “Who said anything about offering me more?” she had challenged. “I’m here because I want to be here. I’m old enough to know what I want and I know I want you. I don’t want to be pure and innocent with you.”

  But Jake didn’t look convinced.

  “I can’t Rosalie; if I kiss you, I’ll be crossing a line and I don’t know where that line will end. I respect you too much to hurt you in any way.”

  She had smiled at him mischievously, flattered he found her so irresistible. She could tell from the stubborn set of his jaw he meant what he said. He wouldn’t stop being respectful and he wouldn’t lay a finger on her. So she decided to take matters into her own hand. Without breaking eye contact, she stepped closer towards him until their bodies were almost touching. She leaned her head towards him, her lips brushing against his ear and whispered,

  “Don’t you think it would be fun to find out where that line ends?” And then she kissed him.

  CHAPTER THREE:

  Amanda twisted her hands together; she did that whenever she was especially nervous. It was a childhood habit.

  “Rosalie, have you been feeling alright?”

  Puzzled by the question Rosalie shrugged her shoulders, “Yes of course. Why do you ask?”

  “Are you coming down with a flu or something?”

  “No, I’m completely fine.”

  “Well I’ve been hearing you up throwing up the last few nights…”

  “Oh.” A flush of color flooded Rosalie’s cheeks as she remembered her very explicit dreams about Jake.

  “I’m sure it’s just a stomach thing or something I ate that didn’t sit well with me.”

  “And you haven’t been feeling anything else? A little more tired than usual or sleepy?”

  That made Rosalie pause – now that she was thought about it she had been feeling extremely tired these past few weeks too. No matter how well she slept the night before, by midmorning she felt like all the energy had been sapped out of her.

  The look on Rosalie’s face was enough to answer Amanda’s question. She checked to make sure the bedroom door was still closed and listened for the sound of any footsteps in the hallway. Satisfied there was nobody outside their door she dropped her voice to whisper and asked bluntly,

  “Rosalie, when was the last time you had your period?”

  Rosalie was so shocked to hear Amanda ask about something she considered unladylike to discuss that the implication of what she was asking didn’t sink in right away.

  “Rosalie!” Amanda’s voice rose a little higher and she shook Rosalie’s hand gently to get her attention.

  “This is very important, when did you last have you period?”

  A sick feeling swirled in the pit of Rosalie’s stomach and another bout of nausea rolled over her. This one from fear, because as her brain scanned through dates and times and quickly did the math, she realized what Amanda was getting at.

  “Oh my God,” she whispered softly before sinking to her feet. She turned large, fearful eyes towards Amanda, “Oh my God,” she repeated again. “What am I going to do?”

  Amanda went down on her knees until she was at eye level with Rosalie. Her eyes were filled with sorrow and sympathy.

  “Oh love, what did you do? Is it one of the boys here?”

  An image of Jake flashed before Ro
salie’s eyes. Could he still be considered as one of the boys here? No. Her father had banished him from the community years ago. She shook her head.

  “No,” she said dully, “it isn’t one of the boys here.”

  “Rumpsringa.” Amanda concluded grimly.

  “Yes.”

  “How far along do you think you are?”

  “Maybe a month? A month and a half? I really don’t know,” Rosalie confessed, desperately thinking of the endless weeks of lovemaking she had enjoyed with Jake. She had no way of knowing which one of the times had resulted in this.

  “How can you not know? When did you…when…” Amanda struggled to find a delicate way of phrasing the question.

  “When did I have sex with him?” Rosalie asked bluntly. “It wasn’t just one night. It was many nights.”

  Amanda’s face blanched and Rosalie felt a wave of remorse at putting her sister through this, but there was no sense in lying about this. The proof was in the pudding, or in her oven, she thought wryly.

  Amanda took a few deep breaths before saying grimly, “Okay, well what’s done is done. First thing we’re going to do is go see a doctor to make sure you really are pregnant. No sense in jumping to conclusions until we’re absolutely sure.”

  They both knew they were grasping at straws but they clung to that hope desperately; maybe it was all a mistake and this truly was nothing more than a stomach virus.

  “How are we going to do that?”

  Going anywhere outside the community usually required dozens of explanations and more often than not, their father always insisted on joining them. In fact, she couldn’t remember ever being allowed somewhere without him.

  “I’ll manage Father, don’t worry about that.”

  Rosalie had no doubts that Amanda would somehow manage it; she was the good daughter, always had been. The pious one who nobody ever questioned. Rosalie was the one who had always been a bit of a wild card and now look at her! Pregnant and alone with no hope of ever seeing Jake again. Her father would probably banish her too…then where would she go? What would she do?