Blazing Bedtime Stories

by Kimberly Raye, Leslie Kelly

“Last night, before the accident. I swerved to miss him. That’s why I crashed.”

  Last night. Thank God. For a moment he’d feared she had seen him over here. Lucas’s distinctive qualities were more noticeable on this side. Especially since the moon had been at its fullest a few hours ago.

  There was no such thing as an outright change for those like Lucas. But things became more clear in the full moonlight. Perceptions were heightened. Just as the gossamer-light, veil-like border between the worlds thinned to near incandescence once a month, many other things unseen in the light of day became sharply obvious.

  Such freedom was irresistible to Lucas and his kind.

  He straightened, then turned the stool upright. “It’s okay. He’s long gone by now. But I can track him.”

  Maybe the fact that Scarlett had seen Lucas—had seen how dangerous he sometimes seemed to be—wasn’t a bad thing. It would make it easier to explain why he was moving the man bound and gagged. Trying to cross the border during the full moon with Lucas unbound would be impossible. The only way would be to incapacitate him and truss him up like…like an animal.

  Damn it. I’m sorry, Mama. It has to be that way. If anybody else finds him first, it could cost him his life.

  “Why are you so sure he’s long gone?”

  Sitting down once more, he noted the trepidation in her voice. He didn’t like the way she tilted her head forward so her blond hair shielded her eyes and grazed her cheeks. “What?”

  She sighed deeply. “I might have seen him again.”

  Hunter shot up again. And again the stool flew. “When?”

  “This morning, when I screamed.”

  “Impossible.” Why would Lucas stay here, knowing Hunter was on his trail? He’d had hours to get away, to hide in some deep burrow in an effort to evade his true nature and not relent to his driving need to see the moonlight. “You can’t have.”

  “I really think…”

  “You said you didn’t see anything,” he snapped. “You were just scared of the trees.”

  She stood, too, crossing her arms. “Well, what kind of nitwit is scared of trees?”

  Around here? With these trees? A smart nitwit.

  “I’m nearly certain it was him.”

  He muttered the kind of four-letter word his mama would have washed his mouth out with soap for saying.

  “Sorry. I should have told you.”

  Yes. She should have. But it wasn’t entirely her fault.

  He’d known better. He’d known she’d seen something, but he hadn’t wanted to admit it. He had deliberately chosen to convince her she’d imagined it because of her head injury, figuring she wouldn’t take much convincing. Because the sights to be seen over here could make anyone doubt their sanity. He, himself had seen any number of things that would drive a rational, sane person to madness.

  And a person with a huge imagination, like a kids’ writer? He didn’t even want to think of the places her mind could take her if she ever realized where she was.

  She wouldn’t be the first. A visit to any library in the States provided evidence that other authors had been…travelers. Hell, there was even a statue to those German brothers in a village not far from here that confirmed it.

  They did deserve some credit though. At least they managed to convey some of the darkness of this place in their so-called fairy tales. Unlike others who merely glossed over the bad to capitalize on the magical.

  With Scarlett’s background writing children’s books, he wondered how’d she react. Would the truth behind happily-ever-after change the nice kids’ tales she probably wrote? For all he knew, she might end up writing Stephen King-type stories.

  As they returned to their seats and resumed their simple breakfast, Scarlett asked, “How bad is this guy?”

  He answered instinctively. “Bad as they come.” But even as the words left his mouth, a part of him wondered.

  “Is he a murderer?”

  Good question, though he couldn’t answer it. He wasn’t certain. And he wouldn’t be, not until he found Lucas.

  One thing was sure: Lucas Wolf could be deadly. Considering what had been done to his sister, the man probably felt justified in seeking vengeance.

  But had he done it? Could he really have turned into judge, jury and executioner? Had Lucas killed two people—and gone after a third—in revenge for his sister’s murder?

  He wanted to know. He needed to know.

  That Hunter partially blamed himself for that murder was an understatement. It had been three men he knew—cops he’d considered good men, one of them his own partner—who had been responsible for it. He had no idea how they’d found the crossover to this place. God help him if they’d followed him. The guilt would be too much to bear.

  Not that he’d live long to bear it. Because if it was his fault, Lucas might hold Hunter every bit as responsible for his sister’s death. And might be out for his blood, too.

  The hunter might actually be the hunted. Which could explain why Lucas was still in the area.

  God, I’m sorry, Mama, he thought again, knowing this would break her heart. Because this was going to end ugly.

  Either Hunter would haul Lucas to jail.

  Or Lucas—his own brother—would kill him.

  6

  HUNTER DIDN’T HAVE to tell her he was exhausted, Scarlett could see the physical weariness washing over him with every moment that passed. He’d been out all night—chasing a criminal, pausing only to carry an unconscious woman for a few miles and then take care of her. Who wouldn’t be bone-weary?

  Maybe that was why he hadn’t answered her question about the man he was after. He looked ready to fall asleep in his seat. Or maybe he just didn’t want to admit that she had nearly come face-to-face with a killer. Twice.

  Scarlett thrust the thought away, feeling so safe in this man’s presence, she couldn’t muster up any concern. Though, if he was going to keep her safe from some psycho ax-murderer, he really ought to take a nap, at the very least.

  Funny that she felt so safe with him, considering the sense of danger wrapping around the man like some extra layer of skin. He sounded gruff when he talked about his job—and those he hunted—yet he’d shown her nothing but thoughtful concern, even if his bark had, occasionally, been worse than his bite.

  Mmm. Bite. Wouldn’t she love to take just a little nibble and offer him one in return.

  Unlike Hunter, she was still wide awake, though she imagined she must have dozed off during the night without realizing it. Because it was now morning and he’d left at midnight. No way had six or seven conscious hours passed.

  Whatever the case, she’d had more rest than he had. So, even though she knew he didn’t entirely trust her, after they’d finished eating, she urged, “Why don’t you lie down and sleep for a while?” Swallowing, since making girly promises was not in her character, she added, “I promise I won’t go anywhere. I’ll stay here and keep watch until you wake up.”

  He tilted his head to the side, eyeing her from across the small table. “Keep watch?”

  She clarified. “Well, I’ll listen. How’s that? I’ll sit here and if I hear anything at all outside, I’ll wake you up.”

  His eyes narrowed as he thought about it. Rubbing a weary hand against his stubbled jaw, he admitted, “I don’t trust you.”

  She could have taken offense, since she’d sworn she wouldn’t go anywhere. But in Hunter’s line of business, she suspected he couldn’t put much faith in people’s promises.

  “You can hide my other shoe,” she said with a soft smile. Then, having an even better idea, she rose to stand beside him.

  He watched in silence. Only the parting of his lips and a quick, audible inhalation betrayed his reaction as she unbuttoned, then unzipped her skirt. She caught it as it fell with a soft swish, and then dropped it onto his lap.

  Hunter’s eyes widened, all evidence of fatigue disappearing like mist in the sunlight. “What do you think you’re doing? Because if thi
s is supposed to get me into bed, it’s working. But I’m not exactly gonna get any sleep.”

  Oh, she loved that idea. But he needed that sleep. “I’m not trying to seduce you, just putting your fears to rest. I might have risked bare feet,” she said with a saucy smile, “but I won’t risk a bare bottom.”

  Her fingertips went for the skimpy elastic at the top of her panties. As she expected, however, he immediately reached out, grabbing her hands. “Don’t even think about it.”

  The words sounded ripped out of him, deep and hungry. For a moment, she considered saying to hell with it. He’d already admitted it wouldn’t take much to get him into her bed. And oh, did her body quiver and her thighs quake at the thought of it.

  She could push him over the edge. She’d like to see the man refuse her if she dropped her panties then sat on the table in front of him and spread her legs in pure, raw invitation.

  It wasn’t exactly ladylike, but it would be expedient and effective. And incredibly wicked.

  Two things stopped her: the fatigue causing his shoulders to slump a bit. And the thought of splinters in her butt.

  “Go to bed.” Noting his slight hesitation, she sighed heavily and grumbled, “Alone.”

  “You sure?”

  Sadist. “I’m sure.”

  He let go of her wrists and rose to his feet. Because she stood so close, the motion became a slow, torturous slide about two inches from her body. Heat rose as his warmth traveled the lazy distance from her belly to her cheek.

  Finally they were nose to nose, breath to breath. And as if he could no more stop himself than stop the setting of the sun, he groaned deeply and cupped her face in both his big, rough hands. “I might have to keep you,” he muttered, then he lowered his mouth to hers.

  This kiss was slower, more sultry. He tasted her thoroughly, his tongue lazily thrusting against hers. He held her tightly, their bodies pressed together, from neck to knee. And Scarlett just sagged there against him, too weak and hungry to do anything more than enjoy it.

  I might have to keep you.

  Considering she was at his mercy, she probably ought to be a little worried about that ragged declaration. Right now, though, she could only manage deep, bone-rattling pleasure.

  He finally pulled away with a dark frown. “Wake me if you hear anything at all.”

  Scarlett hoped her voice didn’t shake. “I will.”

  He said nothing else, merely collapsing onto his back on top of the bed. Still completely dressed, he appeared ready to leap up and into whatever action might come his way. And within moments, judging by his deep, even breaths, the beautiful-but-deadly man was sound asleep.

  Scarlett watched him for a long time, alert for any sounds outside, but also trying to make none within that might disturb him. And though her legs eventually stopped shaking from that kiss, her mind continued to churn with possibility.

  The possibility of what might happen when he woke up.

  THOUGH Hunter didn’t sleep more than a few hours, it felt like midafternoon by the time he awoke. The light oozing in from around the heavy quilt over the window was bright and intense. Outside, the sky had probably become its typical brilliant blue with puffy white clouds, the kind only ever seen in storybooks. Or here.

  Give him smog and humidity any day. Things here were a little too perfect on the outside, while darkness lay just beneath the surface. He’d rather know what he was getting into at first sight.

  For a moment, he remained still, unmoving on the bed, trying to clear his head from its post-sleep fuzziness. It took only a second to remember everything.

  He jerked upright, wondering if Scarlett had been true to her word and had stayed put. God, what if she’d gone out, what if Lucas had been watching and had taken her to get to Hunter?

  What if she’d stumbled into someone even worse?

  He realized at once that he needn’t have worried. She hadn’t gone, she was still right here in the cabin with him. The sight of her, however, almost made him lie back down, and retreat into the relative safety of his dreams. Because there was nothing safe about staying awake and confronting his deepest, darkest sexual fantasies.

  Scarlett had obviously found the large washtub that had been tucked beside the woodstove. He’d forgotten it was there, since it was usually stacked full of firewood.

  She had emptied it. And had then put it to use.

  Right now, she knelt in the thing, her long blond hair pulled up onto her head in a loose bun, a few curls falling to brush her shoulders. Her bare shoulders.

  Her bare shoulders above the equally-as-bare rest of her.

  The woman, a stranger to him a day ago, had stripped naked to bathe, trusting him to remain a gentleman or stay asleep.

  Hell. Nobody had ever called him a gentleman. And Rip Van Winkle himself couldn’t have slept through a sensual exhibition like this one.

  As he watched in dry-mouthed silence, she ran a thick, soapy sponge over one long, slender arm. She was half-turned away from him, intent on her task. The position afforded him a delectable view of the back of her body, from her creamy shoulders, down the vulnerable curve of her spine, the indentation at small of her back, the swell of her hips. The edge of the tub and the soapy water within it prevented him from glimpsing what he suspected was a magnificent ass.

  But it didn’t hide her other magnificent assets when she turned a little to rinse the sponge. Her full breasts shimmered and gleamed, slick with soap and topped with taut, puckered nipples. Hunter’s heart pounded hard in his chest with the need to have, to take, to taste. His blood surged downward, settling in his cock, which swelled hard against his jeans. The waves of sexual need threatened to drown him. And when she began to stroke her breasts with her own soapy palm, he couldn’t contain a low groan of pure, primal hunger.

  She heard. But she wasn’t startled and she didn’t immediately grab for a cloth to cover herself. Instead, she merely glanced over, lashes half-lowered over sultry eyes. A slow smile widened her lush lips. “Awake at last, I see?”

  Hunter realized the truth. “This was intentional.”

  She laughed softly, and rose to stand in the tub, the water dripping off her in rivulets. Lifting a pitcher, she dribbled clean, fresh water over herself to wash away the soap.

  “You set me up.”

  “Well, of course I did.”

  Pivoting his legs off the bed, he sat on its edge. Half of him wanted to stalk out, not give in to her obvious seduction attempt. The other ninety-nine percent demanded that he take her and be done with it. “Why?”

  Bending gracefully at the waist, she reached for a rough towel, which lay across the back of a chair. She patted herself dry, not rubbing the coarse fabric against that incredibly soft-looking skin. “Today is Valentine’s Day. Don’t you want a present?”

  “I don’t like chocolate,” he snapped.

  “Shameful.” She tsked and shook her head, as if she’d never heard anything more sacrilegious. Then she smiled, her blue eyes gleaming. “But don’t worry, your mouth is safe. I didn’t bathe in chocolate.”

  Meaning she wanted him to dine on her? His mouth went moist with hunger at the very thought of it. He’d nibble there, suck there. Move his mouth over every last inch of her. Make her come right against his lips and satiate his hunger with her body’s hot and steamy response.

  She stepped out of the washtub, slowly crossing the room, her breasts swaying with each step. Her long legs were still damp and slick, and she left moist footprints in her wake. He stared at the pale thighs, not allowing himself to dwell on the juncture between them, or on the small tuft of curls she made absolutely no effort to hide.

  He gave it one more shot, growling, “Why?”

  “Can’t it just be because we want each other? So why not take what we want? Why not…stray? We’re here, we’re two adults, we’re single.” Her eyes widening, she added, “We are both unattached, right?”

  He nodded once.

  Her audible sigh of relief al
most brought a smile to his mouth. “Okay, back to the point. We’re incredibly attracted to each other. So why shouldn’t we do something about it?”

  She made it sound so simple.

  Maybe it is. And maybe it should be.

  She stepped again, until she was within a few inches of the bed, all that soft, creamy skin inviting him to touch her in a thousand places. His eyes zoned in on a few of the closest ones and another low groan emerged from his throat.

  “You can’t know whether you want to keep me until after you’ve had me,” she said, her voice thick with hunger.

  Remembering what he’d said to her before—the dumb admission he shouldn’t have voiced—he gave up all resistance.

  She’d get her way. They’d both get what they needed.

  But if she thought her seduction had given her the upper hand between them sexually, she needed to think again. She’d thrown the match on the tinder. Now he intended to make her burn like she’d never burned before.

  He slowly rose from the bed. The slide upward was more intimate than it had been earlier, for this time, only an inch of air separated her beautiful naked body from his mouth. His lips scraped a path up her belly, her midriff and her chest. The woman’s skin was supple and smooth and smelled of the wildflowers that grew around this cottage, and were used in making that local soap.

  A heady smell. Intoxicating and a little dangerous. Like many other things in this place.

  Brushing his cheeks against the inside of her soft breasts, he heard her hiss and felt her jerk against him. Her dark nipples tightened in visible need, and he knew she wanted his intimate attention there.

  He didn’t give it to her. Instead, he kissed and licked his way farther up, pressing his mouth to the hollow of her throat, then over the pulse point in her neck.

  “Hunter…”

  “You’ve talked enough.”

  She sucked in an indignant breath. “Are you telling me to shut up?” Her sigh of pleasure took any bite from her words.

  He nibbled the lobe of her ear. “Yeah.”

  She didn’t obey, opening her mouth to say something, but he cut her off, plunging his tongue between her lips. She shuddered, sagging hard against him. Turning her head, she wrapped her arms around his neck, tugging him closer, beckoning him deeper. Her warm mouth both offered and delivered intense pleasure, and the feel of her naked body pressed against his sent him almost over the edge.