Tall, Dark and Paranormal: 10 Thrilling Tales of Sexy Alpha Bad Boys

by Opal Carew

  She needed to ease that ache. Now.

  Releasing him, she slid onto the bed and straddled his thighs, bracing her hands on the hard muscles of his chest. Such strength under velvet skin. She could stroke it all night. Barely able to see his features in the dark, she blew a stream of power at the bedside lamp. When it flickered to life, it allowed her to see him completely.

  Asleep, his face looked almost boyish. Another smile curved her lips as her gaze shot back to his groin. Maybe not so boyish.

  But, oh, his face. So classically handsome. Strong, square jaw. Straight, aquiline nose. His eyes were closed but she knew they were lightly colored, green or blue. His hair was blond but not one simple shade. It was caramel and wheat and gold. Colors that bespoke his work outdoors.

  Chasing her.

  Her smile fled as her eyes dropped to his lips. Firm and straight, they were parted slightly as if he was having trouble breathing.

  Good. She wanted him to suffer. Wanted to make him pay for the worry that ate at her. She would take her pleasure tonight. But he would find none. And he would remember this only as an unfulfilled dream in the morning.

  Of course, if she killed him tonight, he would remember nothing.

  To take her mind off that suddenly dreary thought, she again wrapped her fingers around his thick cock, so engorged it lay flat against his stomach. She pulled it toward her, holding it firmly until it pointed straight into the air. She shifted forward until the tip brushed her vaginal lips, teasing her clit. Shivers of sensation danced from that small bundle of nerves to her womb and straight into her spinal cord.

  Pleasure sizzled like magic along her nerve endings. But where magic could drain her, sex energized her. Sex shot pure adrenaline into her bloodstream.

  She drew in a deep breath—filled with his scent. It teased a moan from her that echoed throughout the room. And elicited an answering groan from the man.

  She ignored him. Her sleeping spell would keep him out while she took her pleasure. And if he did please her, she would make sure he suffered no pain when she took his life.

  Still, she didn’t want this to end too quickly. A slow, steady climax was always more desirable than quick gratification. She’d been alone for so many years now and human males never could last more than thirty minutes, at least in her experience. What was thirty minutes in the span of a six-hundred-year life?

  With her hands braced on his chest, she slid her wet flesh against his cock until it was soaked with the moisture seeping from her body. For half an hour, she rubbed her flesh against his, coming close but not achieving orgasm.

  She never allowed the tip of his cock to slip further than an inch inside her body. Instead, she used the swollen head to rub against her throbbing clitoris then slid forward to allow it to tease the plump, hot lips.

  Eyes closed, she concentrated on sensation, ignoring the man, pleasuring herself with his body.

  But as the minutes passed, she found herself staring down at him.

  His face didn’t contain the perfection of the folletti but it had a rugged beauty all of its own. Her hand found its way to his jaw. Her skin, dark olive against his golden tones, caught on the stubble of the beard he hadn’t bothered to shave in several days. She wondered what his jaw would feel like rubbing against her skin. Between her legs.

  She moaned and finally let herself slide onto his cock, seating herself to the hilt. The wiry hair at the base of his erection meshed with the fine silk of her mound and she reached down to spread her lips so that the hair could tickle her clitoris.

  And then his eyes opened.

  Spellbound

  by,

  Opal Carew writing as Amber Carew

  For some reason, Fate has been messing with Lucinda’s love life.

  By all known wizard lore, she should have bonded with her mentor Rand, but there’s simply no chemistry between them. When she gets “The Call”, which shouldn’t happen for her, she is faced with an incredibly sexy, entirely naked man in an alley in Paris. Getting “The Call” means she is supposed to be his mentor… and his one true love. Clearly Fate thinks her life is a joke.

  Now she is stuck mentoring a man who is utterly domineering, overwhelmingly masculine, incredibly irresistible and, according to her most trusted friend, extremely dangerous.

  This book was formerly sold under the titles “Virgin Wizard” and “Darkest Nyte”.

  Praise for Spellbound

  5 Hearts!

  “… an enchanting and entrancing story of love and forgiveness. Carew has outdone herself … a definite recommended read.”

  Tammy, Love Romances

  5 Cupids!

  “Wow! This book got me hooked right from the start. The mystery and suspense around Nyte was so thrilling… Carew has created very interesting and realistic characters… I will certainly look out for more works of this great writer.”

  Birka, Cupid’s Library Reviews

  4.5 Cupids!

  “This story is full of twists and turns. Nyte’s secrets entice the reader up until the final pages of the book. …as a work of fantasy it is quite interesting and unique.”

  Marina, Cupid’s Library Reviews

  4 Angels!

  “… a wonderful mix of mystery and paranormal. Carew has created a story that will not soon be forgotten.”

  Tewanda, Fallen Angel Reviews

  4 Angels!

  “a whole new world to explore…fresh and exciting… fun to read… kept me captivated… adventure and strong characters.”

  Julie, Fallen Angel Reviews

  4 Cups!

  “This story is quite engaging… Several plot twists and turns will surprise you and set your world on edge…”

  Cindy Warner, Coffee Time Romance Reviews

  “Witty and engaging… a fabulous story that I found hard to put down… will keep you on the edge of your seat… an extremely entertaining read that you’ll want to visit more than once.”

  Susan Biliter, eCataRomance Reviews

  “an outstanding fantasy novel... twists and turns that will keep you on your toes and a brilliant ending that will warm your heart. I encourage you to read this exceptional book, whether a fantasy reader or not. If you’re not, you will be after reading [SPELLBOUND]”

  Tina Burns, The Road to Romance

  “Many twists and surprises… I thoroughly enjoyed it.”

  Trang Noire, Just Erotic Romance Reviews

  Spellbound Copyright © 2014 by Opal Carew

  Published in 2012 under the title Virgin Wizard.

  Published in 2011 under the title Spellbound.

  Published in 2005 under the title Darkest Nyte.

  Discover more books by Amber Carew at her website

  www.AmberCarew.com

  All Rights Are Reserved.

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this story are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  First Amber Carew edition: September 2011

  Second Amber Carew edition: August 2012

  Third Amber Carew edition: August 2014

  www.AmberCarew.com

  www.OpalCarew.com

  Dedication

  To Mark,

  with love.

  Chapter 1

  “Merlin, what was that?” Lucinda Divine rubbed the sleep from her eyes, then pushed herself up on her elbows. Moonlight illuminated Merlin’s slight profile, and his vivid green eyes stared into hers questioningly. Then he yawned and settled his head back down on her stomach, his eyes dropping closed again.

  “I don’t know why I bother talking to you,” she grumbled, as she glanced at the clock.

  Three forty-seven.
<
br />   The last time she’d been awakened in the wee hours like this, Randalph had been calling for help. But it wasn’t Rand this time. So who was it? Could it be work related? Three of her current cases were straightforward remove-a-curse types, but she had taken the precaution of putting monitor spells on her other two clients. Still, if it had been one of her own spells warning of trouble, she wouldn’t be in doubt as to the origin.

  She pushed the covers aside, ignoring Merlin’s sharp protest at being ousted from his comfortable position.

  “Oh, stop complaining. It’s not like it was my idea to get up at this time of the night.”

  Merlin leaped off the bed and strutted away, stiff-legged, tail held straight as a post. He jumped onto her rocking chair and curled up, his glossy black back toward her.

  “Okay, be like that.” Just like Merlin. He wouldn’t lose sleep over a late night caller.

  She turned her attention away from the cat and took a deep breath. Stilling her thoughts, she listened for a repeat of the call that had awakened her. A moment later it rippled through her awareness, strong and insistent.

  The Call!

  She had received The Call?

  But that didn’t make any sense. She had been born of human parents, not wizards. Only those with wizard parents could be mentors.

  The Call burst through her again, transforming her confusion into resonating joy.

  It was true! A new wizard had appeared in the world, and she had been called upon to be his mentor.

  To guide a new wizard through the difficult time of learning to control his power--this had been a secret dream of hers for almost three centuries, even though she’d known it would never--could never--happen.

  She didn’t know why she’d been chosen, but pride bubbled through her that Fate had entrusted her with such an important role. She hoped she could do as well as her own mentor, Randalph. He had taught her to look beyond herself and reach past the limitations of everyday. In so doing, he had given her a level of control over her life she’d never thought possible. She would always love him for that.

  She could hardly wait to get started with her own student.

  Trying to quell her mounting excitement, she reminded herself that The Call occurred upon birth of a new wizard. She smiled, thinking of the new baby born into the world, the child she would guide to the fulfillment of his wizardly powers. But over a decade would pass before she took an active part in his life. Right now, he was just an infant in his human mother’s arms.

  She imagined a tiny, naked baby staring up at her, a smug expression on his little face, and an irresistible impulse to go see him tugged at her.

  No, this was silly. She could take a peek at him tomorrow, after she’d had a good night’s sleep. After all, she would not play a significant role in his life until he reached puberty.

  She remembered that period in her own life, when her changing hormonal balance had triggered the ability to control magic. It had been a frightening, confusing time and she didn’t envy her new charge the ordeal ahead.

  An insistent, yet indefinable, urge coursed through her. She wanted--no, she needed--to find this wizard. Right now. She absolutely had to see him.

  That’s odd, she thought. She’d never had any particular inclination to stare at babies before. Could it be The Call affecting her like this? She frowned. From everything Rand had told her during her insistent questioning, she’d imagined a slight niggling feeling connecting her to this new person, not an overwhelming urge.

  It dragged steadily at her senses now. Alarm spiked through her at a new sense of urgency that fueled the pull. As if he might be in trouble. Could this baby have been abandoned? Could he be alone and frightened?

  Merlin’s sharp mewing cut through her mounting apprehension. His bright green eyes stared at her and his ears perked straight up.

  “Merlin, I’ve got to go to him. He needs me.”

  Merlin made an insistent warbling sound and she planted her hands on her hips. “Well, I know I don’t know anything about babies.” She wagged her finger at her furry friend. “But I won’t allow any wizard I’m responsible for to wind up in an orphanage. If I need to, I’ll bring him here and take care of him myself!”

  Merlin bleated rudely, leaped from the chair, and strutted away.

  “What do you mean you feel sorry for the poor kid?” She glared at his retreating back, wondering what she’d done to deserve such a rotten cat.

  Pushing aside her irritation, she closed her eyes and concentrated, trying to zero in on her subject. She visualized the incoming thread of anxiety-triggering energy and grasped it, tracing it backward, letting it draw her toward the source. She fluttered through space, her body light as chiffon billowing on a summer breeze. Time and matter quivered around her, meaningless in the process of transporting through the Earth.

  Finally, a heaviness settled in her feet, then drew upon the rest of her rematerializing body. She squinted against the bright sunshine that invaded her slightly disoriented brain. The aroma of something too delicious to be good for her dragged her attention to the shop door in front of her. The sign printed across the large glass window read “Patisserie.” A large platter of croissants and what had to be pains au chocolat, judging from the dark brown smudges on the sides, stood under a glass dome on the counter inside. Her stomach rumbled, but she ignored it. Reflected in the glass, a world-renowned landmark loomed behind her.

  The Eiffel Tower.

  April in Paris. Charming. Why did she always wind up in these wonderful places when she didn’t have time to enjoy them? Last time, she’d been searching for Death at Club Med. She smiled. Of course, once she’d found him and gotten their business out of the way, they’d had a good time. A date with Death was quite an experience.

  A couple of teenagers skated past her on roller blades and giggled. Lucinda shifted her focus to her own reflection and flushed. Here she stood in the middle of Paris wearing only a mauve camisole and matching boyleg briefs--and bare feet. She groaned. Well, she’d never pretended to be good at these middle of the night adventures. She had trouble being organized at the best of times let alone with less than a good night’s sleep.

  Pretending great interest in the view behind the glass, she checked her peripheral vision on each side, wondering how best to avoid notice.

  Right, like that would happen. Almost everyone who passed by glanced in her direction. Some quickly glanced away again, some grinned, some twittered. Some ogled. She dragged in a deep breath, deciding on brashness as her best course of action. Drawing her shoulders back, she turned away from the window. She smiled and nodded at each person who glanced in her direction, then turned down the first alleyway she came across.

  Good heavens. She would have to choose the mid-morning rush hour to appear in a world-class city in a state of undress. Of course, most nights she slept in an oversized grey sweatshirt, but yesterday, of all days, she’d given in to temptation and bought the feminine camisole set in the window of a lingerie store near her office--and she’d had to wear it to bed.

  She padded down the alley, searching for a hidden corner where she could materialize some clothes, but a groan from up ahead interrupted her mission. She crinkled her forehead. Had it been an actual sound? Good heavens, could it have been the baby? Had he been left alone somewhere in this alley?

  But a baby didn’t groan.

  She closed her eyes and listened. Fragmented questions tumbled through her mind. Where am I? Who am I? The strong sense of disorientation threw off her balance, sending her careening into a brick wall. Her shoulder pressed against it and she flattened one hand against the side of her head, trying to control the dizziness. The person was disoriented. And uncomfortable.

  But he wasn’t in danger.

  She tried to catch her breath as a stunning certainty ricocheted through her. These thoughts were too coherent for an infant. And yet they definitely came from her intended student. She slumped back against the wall, barely holding herself uprigh
t as disturbing questions pelted her consciousness like hailstones.

  If this wizard she’d been called upon to teach was not a baby, why hadn’t she received The Call over a decade ago? The lad seemed to be suffering from some kind of accident. Could a blow to the head have triggered wizardly potential in him?

  She didn’t know. Drat. Many of her friends loved mysteries, but not her. Why hadn’t one of them gotten this one? As soon as the thought crossed her mind, Lucinda felt a fierce protectiveness jolt through her. No way. This guy was hers. Lucinda had longed to be a mentor for centuries.

  A good thing, a little voice whispered inside her head. Because a seventh sense told her he was ready. She could feel the magical potential shimmering from him. Damn. She felt like a pregnant woman who’d just given birth, been handed a full-grown child, and told, “Here you go. You’re a mother now.” In fact, it occurred to her that in that particular analogy, not only had she not realized she was pregnant, but she’d thought she could never even conceive!

  This isn’t fair! I need more time. I’m not ready for this!

  She could almost see Merlin’s sardonic green gaze. Yeah, like life is always fair.

  Lucinda shook her head. Okay, she’d manage. Somehow. In fact, the thought that she could start the teaching process right away held some appeal. She’d never been a patient person. Waiting twelve or thirteen years would have driven her nuts. And a teenager would be much easier to take care of than a baby. In fact, didn’t they usually want to do everything on their own?