He nuzzled her hand to show his remorse, waiting for forgiveness.
JC chuckled, the warmth of it slipping into his ears. “You beast. Listen here, Knight in Shining Armor, whatever I put in your bowl is yours. If it’s on a plate, you can be pretty sure it’s mine, unless the plate is on the floor. That makes it yours. Got it?”
Well, he couldn’t in all good conscience consent to that, now could he? He was a carnivore. Max avoided her eyes and nuzzled her hand again instead.
She smiled down at him, her blue, almond-shaped eyes crinkled at the corners. “You know, that was some pretty impressive stuff there, Fluff. Very chivalrous of you to sense my discomfort and act on it. Now if only you walked on two legs instead of four, we’d make the perfect couple, don’t you think?”
* * * *
After watching three solid hours of a Downton Abbey DVD while sitting at her feet, Max got tired and trotted down to JC’s bedroom, where he sprawled out on her bed, tucking his paws under her pillows.
The blankets were a rumpled mess after he’d given himself a good back scratch, but he’d fully absorbed her sweet smell of sunshine and cinnamon. He lay there for a while, attuning his senses to her unique scent, looking around the room at the pictures on her dresser of her parents and friends, the dozens of shoes lining her open closet.
He’d spent an inordinate amount of time wondering what she looked like in the skimpy, pink, sheer nightgown hanging on the hook inside her closet door.
“Hey.” JC patted his belly. He fought off his lustful thoughts and slowly opened his eyes with a yawn.
“This,” she tapped the bed with a sleepy smile, “is mine, cookie. That,” she pointed to the mat on the floor, “is yours.”
Max lifted his head to see her more clearly. She had a towel wrapped around her head and one wrapped around her body.
Naked…she was naked beneath the blue towel. Steak and a beautiful naked woman he couldn’t touch just yet, all in one night. It was too much.
The gentle swell of her hip brushed against his legs as she sat next to him. Pouring lotion into her hand, JC smoothed it over her calves, working her way up to thighs he just knew were silky-soft.
He sniffed the air. Cucumber-melon. Nice. Her hands made circular motions, rubbing in the cream higher and higher. Lowering the towel, she let it rest at her waist as she dabbed some lotion on her shoulders. Her breasts thrust upward, her taut nipples beading from the cool air.
“Hey, Fluff,” she said.
He turned his head, averting his guilty eyes. “I told you to get on the floor, handsome.” JC stood and pointed again to his “bed.”
Max slunk off the bed, sliding to the floor and curling his big body on the mat.
Letting the towel fall to the floor, JC grabbed her nightgown from the hook inside the closet and slid it over her creamy skin, the glow of the lamp shading her soft contours.
His groin tightened and he tensed at the familiar call of his body to shift. He willed his muscles to relax and obey, focusing on remaining in his wolf form. Because shifting could be bad—not to mention traumatizing.
It was all he could do to keep from showing her he was no stray dog from a shelter. But patience was required here. He didn’t understand much more than JC was his prophesized mate, and he was wildly attracted to her. He felt her inside him. He instantly knew her soul.
He’d never believed the stories before. All the mumbo-jumbo about how you felt your life mate, like an invisible tether; you were joined and you just knew.
But he believed them now—because he knew.
Now he just had to find a way to get to know the rest of her without scaring the shit out of her. And dying. There was still the damn threat of death hanging over his head.
It wasn’t going to be easy. He couldn’t just say, “Hey, JC, glad you adopted me at the pound. Thanks for rescuing me from my first round with death. By the way, did I mention I’m not just any wolf? I’m a werewolf. Your werewolf, baby. Wanna mate? Because round two with death is coming up.”
He especially couldn’t say that to a human.
Something he still didn’t understand. How could his life mate be a human? Had some of his pack mated with humans and turned them? He’d always been taught that wasn’t allowed. Ever. This hurdle had to have something to do with the curse.
Turning off the bedside lamp, JC scratched his muzzle before climbing over him and getting into bed. Her hand hung down over the edge of the mattress. He licked her palm, savoring the soft texture of her skin on his tongue.
“Night, Fluffy. Welcome home,” she whispered, her sultry voice slicing through the velvety darkness.
Goodnight.
~
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About Dakota
Dakota Cassidy is a USA Today bestselling author with over thirty books. She writes laugh-out-loud cozy mysteries, romantic comedy, grab-some-ice erotic romance, hot and sexy alpha males, paranormal shifters, contemporary kick-ass women, and more.
Dakota was invited by Bravo TV to be the Bravoholic for a week, wherein she snarked the hell out of all the Bravo shows. She received a starred review from Publishers Weekly for Talk Dirty to Me, won a Romantic Times Reviewers’ Choice Award for Kiss and Hell, along with many review site recommended reads and reviewer top pick awards.
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eBooks by Dakota Cassidy
Visit Dakota’s website at http://www.dakotacassidy.com for more information.
A Lemon Layne Mystery, a Contemporary Cozy Mystery Series
1. Prawn of the Dead
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01LXSGBYC
2. Play That Funky Music White Koi
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01LZQPY5E
3. Total Eclipse of the Carp
Witchless In Seattle Mysteries, a Paranormal Cozy Mystery series
1. Witch Slapped
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01M16055Q
2. Quit Your Witchin'
3. Dewitched
4. The Old Witcheroo
5. How the Witch Stole Christmas
6. Ain’t Love a Witch
Wolf Mates, a Paranormal Romantic Comedy series
1. An American Werewolf In Hoboken
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00WROKCEQ
2. What’s New, Pussycat?
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00WTMPGGK
3. Gotta Have Faith
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00XBBV310
4. Moves Like Jagger
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01HDH4BXO
5. Bad Case of Loving You
A Paris, Texas Romance, a Paranormal Romantic Comedy series
1. Witched At Birth
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00ZJIOZCC
2. What Not to Were
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01FDVBIYW
3. Witch Is the New Black
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01FVSB6YY
4. White Witchmas
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01HPIR
LK6
Non-Series
Whose Bride Is She Anyway?
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B011AEY9GK
Polanski Brothers: Home of Eternal Rest
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B011JG7T4I
Sexy Lips 66
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01NC3GYM6
Accidentally Paranormal, a Paranormal Romantic Comedy series
Interview With an Accidental—a free introductory guide to the girls of the Accidentals!
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00XBBV3EW
1. The Accidental Werewolf
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2. Accidentally Dead
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3. The Accidental Human
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4. Accidentally Demonic
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5. Accidentally Catty
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6. Accidentally Dead, Again
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7. The Accidental Genie
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8. The Accidental Werewolf 2: Something About Harry
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9. The Accidental Dragon
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10. Accidentally Aphrodite
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11. Accidentally Ever After
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01BOBPFRQ
12. Bearly Accidental
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01N04KW3G
13. How Nina Got Her Fang Back
14. The Accidental Familiar
15. Then Came Wanda
The Hell, a Paranormal Romantic Comedy series
1. Kiss and Hell
http://www.amzn.com/B002IPZBK4
2. My Way to Hell
http://www.amzn.com/B003NX75JK
The Plum Orchard, a Contemporary Romantic Comedy series
1. Talk This Way
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2. Talk Dirty to Me
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3. Something to Talk About
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4. Talking After Midnight
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The Ex-Trophy Wives, a Contemporary Romantic Comedy series
1. You Dropped a Blonde On Me
http://www.amzn.com/B00466ISQC
2. Burning Down the Spouse
http://www.amzn.com/B004LRPDSW
3. Waltz This Way
http://www.amzn.com/B005GSYXOK
Fangs of Anarchy, a Paranormal Urban Fantasy series
1. Forbidden Alpha
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B0135LYKB0
2. Outlaw Alpha
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B013TRWDAA
Dakota recommends … Michelle Hoppe
Forever Caspia
Michelle Hoppe
Chapter 1
Shadows and darkness distorted the ghostly mast that jutted from the wooden deck, a lone sentinel standing guard over the broken ship. The Spanish galleon had come to rest on soft, white sand near a coral reef. A gaping hole in her side from cannon-shot was a testament to a long ago battle. The ragged edges of her broken timbers were worn smooth by the soft caress of warm Caribbean waters.
Barnacles covered much of her exposed surface, and schools of small, colorful fish swam in and around her shattered frame. Unseen in darker water, sharks waited just out of sight, swimming in circles. The sleek predators built their ravenous hunger into an overwhelming need before they darted in to capture careless denizens of the deep in their razor sharp jaws.
Just one month to go, Tiro thought. Damn this curse. He swam closer to the wreck—hiding behind wooden crates, a part of the old ship’s cargo—which had been carelessly tossed from the hold during a final plunge deep below aqua waters. With a javelin at his side, he watched the sharks circle the reef. Waiting for an opening, he flexed his fingers against the spear’s metal shaft, ready to launch the moment a sleek gray body glided close to his hiding place.
His gaze was momentarily drawn to a school of bright yellow Coney flying from the cargo hold, fleeing a large white-tip riding their wake from the bowels of the ship. Hundreds of small fish were devoured in a single sweep of the shark’s mouth before any were aware they were doomed.
Tiro’s hand clenched in anticipation, his body rigid and his muscles coiled to spring, when the seven-foot monster swam closer. Unaware death waited, the shark cut through the water with grace. Raising the spear to his shoulder, he waited, breath held. He drew his arm back, and then shot the javelin forward with great force. Slicing through water with deadly silence, the six-inch metal point cut into the shark’s thick scales and imbedded into its soft flesh. Blood poured from the wound, tainting the sea red. Swimming faster, the stricken shark tried to dislodge the painful intruder. A trail of red followed his path, closely pursued by his brethren waiting for death’s throes to take him before they devoured his flesh.
As the sharks moved from sight, his way clear, Tiro cautiously swam toward the ship. Skirting its side, he turned his head, scanning the open sea, checking for danger before he approached a fissure leading inside. With a kick of his fins, he cleaved through the water, moving from a world of color and light to dim, foreboding semi-darkness. Unable to see, he paused a moment, allowing his eyes to adjust to the diffused interior light. Many small creatures darted in and out of the crates and urns flung haphazardly about the cargo hold. Sea urchins filled every inch of the wooden core, their colorful appendages extended in hope of snaring small plankton floating past.
Moving toward an opening above his head, he passed from the cargo hold and into the heart of the old wreck. Stairs climbed skyward, leading to an upper deck. He opened the only door and swam into what could only have been the captain’s cabin. A large bed frame sat under curved windows. The glass was no longer there, but wooden mullions still stood strong. Ornate carvings covered the four-poster bed, and slips of gauzy material still trailed like spider webs where a canopy once draped for privacy.
A large table and six chairs waited in silence as if eager for the ghostly figures of long dead sailors to enter and pull them from their resting place. Inspecting the room, he realized it was perfect for his purposes. Smiling behind his mask, he departed the eerie wreck. Swimming with ease, he reached the surface and the boat waiting to take him back to Tortuga.
Chapter 2
Mark watched a body break the water’s surface near the boat. Tiro’s strong, steady strokes brought him within reach of a ladder in seconds. Mark waited while his brother climbed onboard and removed his mask and air tanks before asking, “Did you find it?”
“Yeah, I found it.”
Mark cocked an eyebrow. “And?”
Tiro shrugged his shoulders. “And it’s perfect.”
“I told you it would work.”
Tiro flipped his wet fins in Mark’s direction. “Yes, you did. Do you want a prize?”
He swatted the fins to the deck before they could hit him in the face. “No, jerk. I’m just saying I was right about the wreck, that’s all.”
Unzipping his wet suit, Tiro changed the subject. “We’ll have to move the table and chairs outta there. Oh, and what’s your plan for those windows?”
It was useless to try and get praise from his brother, so he simply answered the question. “Board ’em up.”
“Covering those windows with wood will make the room very dark and frightening,” Tiro reminded him, tugging jeans up still-wet legs and butt.
“You’re not getting soft on me are you, big brother?”
Struggling to snap his jeans, Tiro reached over to punch his arm. “No, I just believe we can accomplish this faster if we try to make things comfortable, even a small comfort like the ability to see out of one’s prison.”
Mark huffed at Tiro’s continued attempts to toss obstacles in the way. “Installing bars isn’t gonna
fly. They’re expensive and difficult to work with underwater. Glass breaks easily, so, damn it, our only option is boarding them up.”
Tiro exhaled with resignation. “I know. You’re right, I just thought—”
“Fuck, Tiro,” Mark interrupted. “The time for thinking is over.” He was tired of hearing Tiro bitch about a situation they could do nothing to change. “Look, we need to get this done. We’ve only got a month to break this curse, or our family is doomed to hell on earth forever.” Mark hesitated, noticing a dark shadow fall over his brother’s face.
“Maybe I don’t find it hell on earth.”
Trying to control his anger, Mark nevertheless attempted once again to reason with his stubborn brother. “Don’t you think I’d take your place if I could? Only Cyrus’ oldest son can break the curse, so too fucking bad. You were born first. The job’s yours. Get over it already!”
Tiro’s face turned red and mottled. His jaw clenched. “Don’t tell me what my job is. I had no part in this bullshit. I wasn’t responsible, yet I’m expected to give up my life and dreams to do what no one else supposedly can!”
He decided to hold his tongue before Tiro popped him in the mouth.
Still unsure whether Tiro could complete the task laid before him, he bent to pick up the discarded air tanks. Stepping toward a storage box, he lifted the lid and secured the tanks. He took a deep breath, swallowed his annoyance, and tried to make his voice sound normal. “We should get underway. The sun will be up in less than thirty minutes. Want me to drive?”
Tiro seemed to relax a bit, and his broad shoulders slumped in defeat. “Hell, no. You finish stowing gear. I’ll get the engines started, radio in, and let them know we’re coming.”
Mark smiled. “Tell Mom to have something hot ready to eat. I’m starving.”
“You’re always starving,” Tiro called back as he climbed a ladder to the upper deck.
He finished packing the gear and headed for the wheelhouse to join Tiro. He’d given up trying to figure out what made his brother crave a life above the waves. Mark stood at the table reading charts and tracking their course with the GPS system. He noted Tiro’s relaxed stance and figured at least for now he’d cooled off. “Did you reach Mom?”
The Accidental Mermaid (Accidentally Paranormal Series Book 16) Page 25
