Storm Bound

by Dani Harper

  “Well, thank you again for watching the shop. With the loan I just took out to rebuild the skylight, I don’t dare close it for a minute if I don’t have to.”

  “You know I don’t mind a bit. I enjoy being here, but I’m going to go home now because Lissy’s coming by. She has a few days off from her teaching job, and she says she wants to spend them with her dear old madre.”

  Brooke pretended to look exasperated. “There’s that word, old, again—I keep telling you it doesn’t apply to you at all.” They hugged again, laughing. “Tell Lissy I’ll drop by and see her tomorrow night, if that’s okay with you.”

  “Of course it is!” Olivia said. “Then two of my darling daughters will be at home.” She gathered up her purse and her bag to leave but paused in the doorway for a moment. “I fed your cats for you. The little things were absolutely starving. And we got a call asking for fresh-cut yarrow. I don’t remember if you have any left in your garden or not, but I took the number down and told them you’d call them in the morning.” She waved, and the shop bell rang as the door closed behind her.

  Starving? Really? Brooke shook her head. Those conniving cats had Olivia wrapped around their sneaky little paws. She locked the store and went up to her apartment, but there were no purring felines to greet her when she came in. In fact, not one of the three cats moved from their sprawled position on the couch, although Rory did blink once in blissful satisfaction. They probably couldn’t move, since a formerly new box of Little Whiskers now sat half empty on the table.

  Sighing, she decided to leave the comatose crew behind and head up to the roof to check the plot of yarrow. It was late in the season, and she wasn’t sure she had much that was worth cutting. She didn’t bother with a flashlight; the darkness was no hindrance to her. The moon was beginning to rise in a clear sky, plus the big red and gold sign for Mel’s Gas and Grocery would be coming on in a little while. Despite being down the block, it provided plenty of pleasant glowing light, so she should be able to examine her plants without any trouble.

  Besides, she enjoyed being on the roof. Despite the missing skylight—which was finally going to be replaced—the place was still a sanctuary to her. With the starry sky above her, it was a perfect place to regroup and rethink, and sometimes gain a little peace. She might even stretch out in the greenhouse for the night.

  The door to the roof had barely closed behind her when she saw it: the green futon in the middle of the garden. Her heart banged against the cage of her chest, hard, and she lost the fight to keep a lid on the hope that geysered up inside her.

  Aidan.

  He approached her from the direction of the evening star, slowly but purposefully, and she held both her ground and her breath. He was dressed in black on black, which made his gray eyes seem all the more intense. His riding leathers and tall boots were tailored perfectly to his muscled frame, sleek and powerful. The moment stretched out, agonizingly long, until he stood before her, scant inches away. Immediately, she felt tiny currents of energy flow freely between them and wondered if he sensed it as well. She didn’t care about that though, not right now. All she wanted was to throw her arms around his neck, but she couldn’t do that either, not yet. Not until she knew how things stood.

  “You’ve been gone a long time,” she managed to say, pleased that her voice didn’t shake, although her knees threatened to. “I didn’t think I was going to see you again.”

  “I promised you I’d come back, cariad. Did I not tell you I loved you?” He took a seat on the futon and put an inviting arm out to her. She sat beneath his shoulder, and it was the closest thing to bliss she’d known in a very long time. It felt safe and good and right, like she belonged there—but after six months without so much as a faery postcard, she damn well deserved some convincing.

  “I didn’t hear a word from you. Not a word. How was I to know you hadn’t forgotten me? Or changed your mind about us?”

  “I know my own mind, Brooke Halloran. And I knew it before I left you.” He cupped her face with his enormous hand, the same strong hand that wielded hammers and swords, now made gentle as if stroking a kitten. “There isn’t a wonder in the faery realm that holds a candle to you, that could entice me to stay a minute longer. Although Lurien surely tried to convince me to stay on.”

  “He did not!” If the Lord of the Wild Hunt was present, she would so have words to say to him.

  “Aye, he did. Offered me gold and silver, enough to live like ten lords all my days. But I knew what I wanted, and he sent me back here as he promised. Cygnus was returned to his home with Rhys and Morgan too—although I hope Lurien remembered to remove the glamor that made the good beast look like a fierce faery horse. I don’t know that they would appreciate the tusks and the horns.” He took her hand in both of his and kissed it slowly, softly. His mouth was hot and she jumped as a trail of sparks seemed to shoot through her bloodstream, a mad mix of magic and sexual desire. “I am so sorry I could not get a message to you. Cygnus was not the only one in disguise. I was spelled to appear to be Lurien and was watched at all times by his enemies. I understand better why he needed my help. If I had tried to contact you, bridged the two worlds, it would have been noticed at once and aroused suspicion. It may have endangered you as well, and that I would not do.”

  “I guess that’s a pretty good explanation. But it was still damn hard not to hear from you.”

  His mouth was on hers, and her arms wound around his neck as he pressed her tight against him. The kiss was long and sweet, but with an edge to it that expressed the sudden release from their fears for each other. She felt like she would never get enough, yet she was forced to come up for air at last. Her brain kicked in and she sat back a little.

  “So, what is it that you want, cariad?” His face gave nothing away, but she could sense that maybe she’d managed to rattle him a bit. Was it so wrong to enjoy that just a little?

  Brooke knew her own mind too, and she knew exactly what she wanted. “All,” she said. “I have to have it all, or we have nothing.”

  He nodded. “Aye, you deserve all, and nothing less. What is it that troubles you?”

  “I need you to tell me that it’s me, really me, that you love. I had two weeks with you and six months without you. I’ve had plenty of time to come up with questions. Is it Brooke you love, or am I a stand-in for a ghost? I keep remembering your face when you first saw me. Can you ever look at me and not see Annwyl?”

  That big hand tilted her face to his, and his voice was firm. “I stopped seeing her the minute you knocked me on my arse. And I’ve wanted you ever since.”

  He kissed her again, his big hand cradling her face, Energies swirled through her system like an impending storm, hungry for the lightning to come.

  “I wanted you then. Now. Always.” He punctuated the words with kisses to her brow, her eyes, her cheek. “You already possess all of me, cariad. Is it enough?”

  “It’s plenty,” Brooke laughed and let go then; her worries, her concerns, her fears, just let them all go. She gave herself to this moment and this man.

  She met him kiss for kiss now, a brush of lips, a tease of the tongue. The deliciously gentle scrape of his close-trimmed beard on her face made her eager to feel it against other parts of her body. But not yet. She drew him from the couch and her magic slowly unraveled the leather laces and intricate fastenings of his vest and shirt. She planned to enjoy every second of this. Her lips pressed each square inch of that powerful chest as she exposed it. Finally she pushed the black leather from his muscled shoulders, momentarily capturing his strong arms. He was hers to taste, to touch. The moon glinted in the blond hair across his chest and she nuzzled it, savoring the scent of him, memorizing it anew. Her fingers circled lightly through the fine dusting of hair that curled around his nipples, and a fine trail of magic followed, sensitizing them. She breathed on them, watching them contract and stand out. An experimental flick of the tongue on one delighted her when the nipple seemed to strain toward her for mor
e. She lavished attention on them both then, sucking them as Aidan’s strong, certain hands slowly, painstakingly unfastened her silk blouse. It was like a dance. Kiss and touch, then angle to allow this button to be undone, that sleeve to be drawn away, only to kiss and touch again.

  Her breasts ached when he freed them, a delicious pain. The cool night air barely cooled them before they were cupped in Aidan’s heated hands, to be fondled and softly squeezed as he sought the nipples with his mouth. Currents of energy pulsed beneath his lips, as if he were caressing her magic as well as her body. He drew her back towards the couch and sat down, standing her in his legs so he could sample her breasts at his leisure. Brooke wound her fingers into his long hair and held his face to her, exulting at each hard pull of his mouth that was instantly soothed by a swirl of his tongue. Each time he sucked on a nipple, it was as if a tiny inner wire were strummed, one that ran from breast to core, and the vibrations were getting stronger.

  From the waist up, she was naked. From the waist down, her jeans were getting wetter by the minute.

  Finally, she straddled his knees and slid down Aidan’s leather-clad thighs to press her breasts against his hard chest, skin to glorious skin, heat to heat. And magic to magic. She shivered deliciously as her nipples tickled against the fine dusting of hair on Aidan’s body, and his energy tantalized them.

  Lifting her face to be kissed again, she worked her mouth down his throat, lapping at the little dip at the base of it, before moving on. She wriggled downwards so she could plant soft, open-mouthed kisses in a more or less straight line, down the center of that broad, powerful chest, over muscles made hard by the hammering of iron, following the vee of hair that pointed south like a compass. The magic followed her trail of kisses like flowing water.

  Aidan’s clothes had been faery crafted, and his leather jeans hugged his strong thighs. Brooke spoke a word and the clever fastenings undid themselves until his cock sprang free. It was firm and thick in her hands, hot velvet against her cheek as she rubbed her face along its length. Aidan stood and shucked his tall riding boots off, allowing her to peel the leather leggings away from his skin until he was fully naked under the night sky. At last, she thought, as she pressed her moist lips to his luscious tip, planning to reenact the vision she had once experienced.

  He groaned in pleasure but pulled away from her. “I had a dream of a moment just like this, cariad, and in this very spot. But I have other plans for you tonight.”

  Startled, she looked up at him with his member still hot in her hand. “Wait a minute. I dreamed about doing this—in fact, I had a vision of it, couch and all. You had the same dream?”

  “Aye, it would seem I did. And it nearly felled me at the knees, so strong it was. Where do you think I gained the idea of pulling this great stuffed chair out of the greenhouse? I wanted the stars to witness me making love to you, cariad.”

  Later she would wonder at the depth of connection that allowed them to share such an erotic vision. For now, she allowed him to guide her however he liked. He returned to sit upon the couch and coaxed her to stand in front of him, where he kissed and lapped at her navel while he undid her jeans. He drew the fabric from her slowly, kissing her belly and hips as he went, turning her so he could kiss and nip at the cheeks of her ass, drawing her jeans down and down until finally she could step free of them. A rush of energy shot through her the moment she was triumphantly naked, and it felt like tiny shooting stars burned in her blood. He ran his great hands down her naked body, tracing her curves, from shoulders to knees, throat to belly, breasts to hips. “By Gofannon, you’re a fair and glorious sight, Brooke Halloran,” he breathed as he guided her to stand before him again—but this time she straddled his knees. He kissed both her hands and set them on his powerful shoulders, then slid one of his own hands between her legs as he looked up at her face. A rush of moisture met him, and he laughed and licked it from his fingers before he began to explore her. Gradually, he worked his knees apart until she was spread wide for him, vibrating and wet beneath his touch. Magic flowed from the tips of his clever fingers. Strong and sure, they circled her clit and slid inside her, then crooked just so on their way back out, and slicked around her clit again…repeating endlessly. Every now and then he’d suck one of her nipples in his heated mouth, sending a string of electricity throughout her already-sensitive system until she dug her nails into his shoulders. Tension grew in her magic as well, her entire system vibrating like an overtaxed engine about to explode. It was too much, all too much, but she couldn’t pull back: his other hand was on her ass, clutching it and pulling her towards him, trapping her so she couldn’t escape his questing fingers.

  The intensity overwhelmed her until she could barely stay on her feet. He plunged his fingers deeper then, and then suddenly splayed them as if he were trying to touch every hidden part of her. The result was devastating. Her breath hitched hard as she bucked against his hand. He brought his knees together and settled her on his muscled thighs then, holding her around the waist to support her even as she clutched his muscled arms. Deep inside her, the aftershocks of the orgasm pulsed and so did the wellspring of power, a heartbeat of magic that shook her.

  A moment later Aidan leaned forward and breathed into her ear, “Again, cariad. Again.”

  What? The orgasm had left her stunned and breathless, but the moment she lifted her head, he was kissing her deeply and guiding her arms around his neck. In the next moment, he was lifting her—standing straight up from the couch, with her ass cupped neatly in his big hands and her legs wrapped around him. He held her high for a long moment, her face above his, foreheads pressed together, both laughing. They kissed, tongues seeking, as Aidan slid her soft, curved body a scant inch at a time down his hard and powerful chest. Lower, lower, in painstaking slowness, until the head of his thick shaft barely touched the still-pulsing vee of her legs—and a burst of magic arrowed through her, tipping her into another orgasm just as his cock drove into her hot wet core. Gloriously impaled, she arched her back and rode out the tremors that shook her, the magic that shuddered through her, as Aidan’s powerful arms held her securely.

  Brooke relaxed at last, draped bonelessly over Aidan with her face on his broad shoulder, yet incredibly, her entire being was still vibrating. She could feel the energy like an electrical current connecting every part of her from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. She could feel it in him too. Just as she wondered if maybe they should take a break or something, let the magic power down, Aidan began to rock his hips.

  She gasped for breath as sensations overtook her faster than her brain could process them. She was caged loosely but securely in his iron-muscled arms, and her body moved against his with each and every thrust, responsive to every minute vibration. The magic pulsed hard and fast too, like a deafening heartbeat. Sensations piled up on each other until she was certain she would start screaming and never stop. And then she was screaming, and she didn’t want anything to stop, no, no, don’t, don’t stop, don’t stop…Aidan had begun kneading her ass every time he thrust into her, her nipples were rubbing his chest, and her clit had found itself a little piece of heaven between the base of his cock and his pubic bone.

  And through it all, their magics merged and blended into something greater, higher, brighter. Stronger.

  “Come with me,” he managed to say. “Come with me. Be with me. Now. Always.”

  “Hell, yeah,” she gasped. Their shared magics erupted skyward as they shattered. Magic steamed from their bodies in the cool night air, escaped from every pore. Its bright energies entwined around them, tendrils of red and gold light that fused them together, bound them into one. It dazzled them both as they sank down, spent and exultant.

  They missed the couch but were happy to lay in a contented heap of arms and legs on the cool hard slate of the rooftop. And they laughed helplessly when the Mel’s Gas and Grocery sign came on a few moments later. Its usually glaring light was almost too pale to be seen. The shining power of the
ir shared magic had already painted the night sky with red and gold.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  It’s not easy being married to a writer—there are long days and longer nights with your spouse all but physically attached to the computer, meals missed, a house that often looks like it’s been ransacked, a shortage of time for fun, and sometimes special events missed during deadlines. There just aren’t enough words with which to thank my husband, Ron, for picking up the slack, for being patient, and for being loving no matter what. You rock, sweetheart.

  I’d like to express my appreciation to my editor, Maria Gomez, and to the entire author team at Montlake. I couldn’t wish for a more enthusiastic and forward-thinking group to work with!

  An extra special thanks to Melody Guy, for her eagle eye and great suggestions. You helped me take this particular project to the next level after I managed to write myself into a corner!

  Hugs and thanks to my beta reading team, Samantha Craig and Ron Silvester. You’ve been a huge part of my writing journey, and I’d be lost without you both.

  Thanks as always to my intrepid agent, Stephany Evans of FinePrint Literary Management. You haven’t had to talk me off a ledge for a while, but I knew you were always there just in case.

  Last but never least: A very loving thanks goes out to my four-legged friend and faithful executive secretary, Fiona the Pug. You left unexpectedly and far too soon, but I’m certain you’re reading this as I type.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Ron Silvester, 2011

  Dani Harper is a former newspaper editor whose passion for all things supernatural led her to a second career writing paranormal fiction. A longtime resident of the Canadian north and southeastern Alaska, she recently ventured south with her husband, Ron, to rural Washington to be closer to their grown children. Dani is the author of Storm Warrior (the Grim Series) and First Bite (Dark Wolf), for Montlake Romance. She is also the author of Changeling Moon, Changeling Dream, and Changeling Dawn. For full details, visit her website at www.daniharper.com.