The Seduction of Shamus O’Rourke

by N. J. Walters

  Neither of them had much range of movement, but it didn’t matter. Shamus rocked his hips upward on each downward thrust. She moved up and down, barely moving more than an inch or two, but it was enough. Their eyes met and held, his dark blue-gray eyes never leaving her lighter blue ones as they moved in a slow, passionate dance.

  The passion swelled inside her. Her heart pounded, her head swam. Every nerve ending in her body hummed in anticipation of what was to come. Her skin tingled and tightened. She could see the emotion in Shamus’s eyes and knew he was feeling their joining as deeply as she was.

  Shamus’s movements got jerky, less controlled, and she knew he was close too. When he inserted his hand between her thighs and stroked her swollen clitoris with just the right amount of pressure, she exploded.

  Crying out, she closed her eyes and ground her hips downward, wanting Shamus as deep as she could take him. She heard him groan as his hips rose up from the bed one final time. It wasn’t the most explosive climax either of them had ever had, but it was the most emotional, at least for her.

  As if a dam had been released on her emotions, tears began to flood her eyes. She tried to blink them back, but there were too many of them. Shamus didn’t question them, but carefully withdrew from her and helped her to lie back down into his arms.

  Gradually, the tears subsided and Shamus stirred. She was reluctant to move, but rolled over onto her back. Shamus got out of bed and carefully made his way to the bathroom. A few minutes later, he was back with a glass of water and a damp cloth.

  She was past being embarrassed by such things and let him help her get cleaned up.

  Gratefully, she took the glass of water and sipped. Shamus crawled back into bed beside her and urged her back into his arms.

  “How do you feel?” His voice was almost a whisper as if he too felt the need to keep the intimate mood that surrounded them.

  She thought about it for a minute and although she was aching from head to toe, she felt good. “I’m doing okay. You?” She brushed her hand over the small patch of wiry hair on his chest.

  “As long as you’re here in my arms, I’m just fine.” He paused. “I know that there’s been a lot happening the past couple of weeks.”

  Cyndi gave a watery hiccup. “That’s certainly an understatement.”

  Shamus chuckled. “I suppose it is. Since B & O is now officially doing the renovation on your house, I’ll supervise and keep on top of things.”

  She stopped stroking his chest and stared up into his face. “That’s fine, as long as you don’t overdo things. They can’t go much further until I make some decisions about flooring, color and cabinets and such.”

  “Tomorrow is time enough for you to worry about that. They’re still working on the outer wall. If they get done before the cabinets and flooring is delivered we can repaint the downstairs rooms.” He paused and changed the subject. “My family is coming around.”

  “They seem to be.” She didn’t want him to have false hopes. “They may not ever truly accept me.”

  “I think they will. Once they know who you really are.”

  She hoped so too, for both their sakes. “Aunt Verna has certainly taken a shine to you.”

  He smiled. “She sure is one tough lady. I like her.” He stroked his hand down her arm and she snuggled closer to his warmth. “I know a lot has happened and I don’t want to rush you into anything.”

  She could hear the underlying question. “But?”

  His grip on her tightened fractionally. He released a pent up breath as he released her. “But, I’d like you to consider marrying me.”

  Cyndi pushed out of his hold and sat up slowly. “What did you say?”

  “Marry me.” It was there between them, stark and raw. She looked deep into his eyes and saw the loneliness and need. It matched what existed inside her.

  She knew deep down in her heart that she’d never meet another man who suited her as well as Shamus did. They’d have their share of problems. They were both stubborn people, and then there was his family. But never would she doubt his love for her. It was in everything he did, every word he spoke.

  “It won’t be easy,” she began solemnly.

  A slow grin split his face. “I never went for easy.”

  She nodded. “Then I guess I’ll think about it.”

  Shamus framed her face with his large, rough hand. “I love you, Cyndi. Marry me.”

  She covered his hands with hers, feeling the difference in their strength, loving their differences as much as their similarities. “What about children? I’m almost forty years old.” This was something that worried her when she thought about them having a life together.

  “Do you want a child?” Shamus was staring into her eyes as he spoke, but she honestly couldn’t tell from his expression how he felt about this issue.

  “I honestly don’t know.” No, she wasn’t being truly honest with herself or with him.

  “Maybe,” she began. “Maybe a little boy.” She could picture a miniature Shamus running around, getting into all sorts of trouble.

  “Or a little girl.” He shook his head and gave her a soft smile. “Doesn’t matter if we have children or not. I want you as my wife. Children would just be a bonus.”

  Drawing in a deep breath, she took the plunge that would change her life forever. “I love you too. And yes, I’ll marry you.”

  Shamus levered himself up and kissed her. Their lips met and clung. It was a kiss of passion, of possession, and of belonging. This was home. Not a place or a building, but here with Shamus.

  It was a beginning.

  Epilogue

  Cyndi fussed with the buffet table one final time. Even to her critical eye, everything looked perfect. Wine glasses sparkled, waiting to be filled. China platters filled with hors d’oeuvres lined the linen tablecloth, and decadent chocolate delights graced delicate, crystal plates.

  A heavy arm snaked around her waist. “It looks perfect.”

  She leaned back against Shamus and sighed. “It does, doesn’t it?” The room was one of many that had undergone a total transformation over the past few months. It was light and airy, yet warm and inviting. Seven tables were scattered around the room, five of them would seat four people, and two of them would seat two. At the moment, they were all empty.

  “They should be here any minute.” He wrapped his fingers around her left hand and lifted it.

  The light from the chandelier reflected off the diamond on her finger. She could still hardly believe that they’d officially announced their engagement at Christmas. Unofficially, they’d been engaged since that night back in October, but they’d kept it to themselves for a few months, allowing time for relations to improve with Shamus’s family. It was almost the end of January, but she had to pinch herself every day just to reassure herself it all wasn’t a dream.

  The wedding was set for the first of March, which didn’t give her much time to plan, but Shamus was insistent. He didn’t even want to wait that long, but Cyndi had put her foot down.

  She wanted a proper wedding that included his family. He’d given in as soon as he realized how important it was to her.

  Even the holidays had gone better than she’d expected. Shamus’s family was making an honest effort, and it was starting to pay off. Things still weren’t where she’d like them to be, but they were getting better. Cyndi had struck up an immediate friendship with Shamus’s nephew, Shane, as soon as the teenager had discovered she liked baseball and was quite knowledgeable about it.

  Shannon was accepting and the two women were getting along well. Patrick was still reserved, but even he’d thawed quite a bit over the past few months. Dani and Burke were trying and that was all that mattered to her.

  There were still people who turned up their noses at her, but she had just as many people who were friendly. Alicia was now handling all Cyndi’s legal and business affairs, but beyond that, they were good friends. Even her Aunt Verna was talking about selling her business in
Vermont and retiring to Jamesville. Cyndi knew that her aunt wasn’t ready to retire and would probably end up helping her run this place, which was fine with her.

  “You okay?”

  She realized she’d been quiet for far too long. Turning, she peered up at Shamus. “I’m better than okay.” She cupped his face in her hands and went up on her toes to kiss him. “I love you.”

  “I love you too.” He wrapped his arm around her and deepened the kiss. The sound of the front bell ringing made them reluctantly separate. “Damn, my family has impeccable timing.”

  Cyndi laughed as they walked arm in arm to the front door. “I can’t wait to see what they think of the place.” Her B & B was ready for business and her first guests would arrive in a week’s time on the first of February.

  The schedule was light until the middle of March, but already bookings were starting to come in. Cyndi had done a lot of advance advertising and it was starting to pay off. Both Amanda Barrington and Linda Fletcher were booked for later in the spring and Cyndi was looking forward to seeing them both. They’d kept in touch via email and phone calls, but it wasn’t the same as seeing them in person.

  “The place looks great.” He surveyed the foyer with pride as they reached the front door.”

  “It does.” Shamus had done much of the work himself. “I’m so glad that things have returned to normal with yours and Burke’s working relationship.” That had gone a long way to easing tensions between Shamus and his family.

  “Me too.”

  Cyndi took a deep breath. “Do I look okay?” She normally wasn’t this nervous, but this was her first major get together with his family in her home—their home. Shamus had all but moved in as soon as their master suite was finished and was talking about renting out his house.

  “You look beautiful.” He kissed her nose as the bell pealed again. He released her and swung the front door wide open. Burke, Dani, Shane, Patrick, and Shannon all stood on the doorstep.

  “Welcome.” Cyndi greeted them as they all trooped inside.

  She felt Shamus’s arm wrap around her and she glanced up at him. The love shining from his eyes made her catch her breath. She felt it expand within her, filling all the empty places that had existed for so very long. The cold and forbidding house was long gone, the past but a distant memory.

  Cyndi Marks had finally come home for good.

  About the Author

  To learn more about N.J. Walters, please visit www.njwalters.com. Send an email to N.J. Walters at njwalters22@yahoo.ca or join her Yahoo! group to join in the fun with other readers as well as N.J. http://groups.yahoo.com/group/awakeningdesires

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  For the Love of Jazz

  © 2007 Shiloh Walker

  Since waking up in a hospital at age eighteen, accused of driving the car that killed his best friend, Jazz McNeil has lived with a guilty heart. Now, more than a decade later, he has returned to his hometown to raise his daughter and to uncover the truth about what happened that fateful summer. And gaze into the eyes of the girl whose life he shattered.

  Though Anne-Marie Kincaid was told that Jazz was responsible for her brother’s death all those years ago, she has never quite believed it. The facts don’t quite fit; they never did. All she knows is, she still feels loved and safe when she’s with Jazz, and that he misses her brother just as much as she.

  And since he returned home, people have started dying.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for For the Love of Jazz:

  “We were never friends, angel. I was friends with your rich brother and you were the nosy, little brat who had a crush on me,” he snapped. “Go home to Daddy, Annie. You want to talk to somebody, go talk to him.”

  In the fading light, he saw the delicate color wash out of her cheeks and hurt bloom in those green eyes. And then she blinked, and as easily as that, a mask fell. She shrugged, carelessly.

  “Your loss, Jasper,” she told him, turning on her heel and heading for her car. The denim drew tight across her hips as she dug into the hip pocket for her keys.

  Before Anne-Marie could reach for the handle, hard hands closed over her elbows, twirled her, pinned her against a heavy, male body. Against her back, she felt the cool, smooth glass of the window and the heat of the metal door against her legs. She raised her head, looked into those deep brown eyes that had haunted her dreams for years on end.

  “I don’t wanna talk to you,” he whispered as he lowered his head to hers.

  Oh.

  Oh, my.

  There really could be thunder and lightning bolts…

  The ground seemed to open up beneath her feet, leaving her clinging to Jazz for balance. He nipped her lip and when her mouth opened, his tongue swept inside, tasting her, savoring, diving deep for more. His hands slid down the length of her body, plastering her against him. Against her belly, she could feel the thick, hard length of his erection. The feel of it did something to her insides, turning her all molten and soft—empty. Too damned empty.

  Anne-Marie rose on her toes, pressed against him, and wrapped her arms around his neck.

  Desperate to get closer, she arched up against him, feeling the heat and power of his body against the softness of her own.

  “Damn it, Annie. We shouldn’t do this.” Dragging his mouth away, Jazz stared down at her.

  What in the hell am I doing? he thought, dazed. He jerked his arms away from her, staring down at her. She raised one hand to her lips, touched them lightly. When her tongue darted out, slid over first her lower lip and then her upper, Jazz groaned.

  What in the hell was he doing?

  Alex would have killed him for even thinking what he was thinking, much less putting his thoughts into action. Desmond would have laid into him with a dull scalpel. By touching her, he betrayed both of them more than he already had.

  Awkwardly, he opened his mouth to apologize but then the words froze when she took a single step toward him. And then another, and one more until she was close enough for him to see the wild pulse beating a tattoo under the thin skin of her neck. She pressed one finger to his lips, wrapped the arm around his neck, and leaned forward, pressing her mouth to the vee of skin bared by his simple, cotton button-down.

  His eyes closed and his hands came up to cup the back of her neck, holding her against him.

  Sweet Anne-Marie. God, I love you. He had dreamed of her over the years, dreamed of a woman who had been just a child when he had left. Dreams that had kept him company at night, even after he’d married Sheri. Guilty dreams that he had denied having, dreams that felt so real, waking from them was almost painful.

  Some people didn’t believe in love at first sight, but Jazz always had. He’d fallen for her as a boy and those feelings had only strengthened in their years apart. Now, she stood in his arms, pressing herself against him. Totally and completely willing—and eager. He could see an answering hunger in her eyes, feel it in the way she leaned into him when he touched her. It was every dream he had ever had, and every nightmare. Because finally he could have her, but only for a while.

  Jazz would never be able to hold her. He would never deserve her. But damned if he wouldn’t take whatever he could get before she walked away. He held her pressed tightly against him as she trailed a line of butterfly kisses up his neck.

  “Why shouldn’t we do this, Jazz?” she asked, reveling in his taste. He tasted hot, erotic, forbidden. Like whiskey and chocolate. Her hands itched to touch him until with a sigh, she gave in, running her hands down his arms, up his sides, learning the long, lean body by touch.

  She hadn’t come out here for this. Not intentionally.

  But Anne-Marie had fallen in love with Jazz McNeil the first time she laid eyes on him at the tender age of ten. And she had always known th
ere would be no other for her. The one time she had tried to use another man to forget about Jazz had ended in miserable failure and she never once again tried.

  Nothing had changed that, not the sixteen years of separation, not the knowledge that he had been driving the night Alex had died. Jazz was it for her and he always had been.

  Rigidly, Jazz stood in her arms and tried to think of the reasons they shouldn’t do this. There were reasons. He just couldn’t, for the life of him, think of them as she pressed another kiss to his collarbone, going up on her toes and pressing another whisper-soft kiss to his jawbone. It was torture, the satin soft feel of her mouth on his skin. He wanted to cradle her head between his hands and kiss her again, taste her, hold her open while he gorged on her.

  Then he wanted to lean back and watch as she used that pretty rosebud mouth in other ways.

  Even the thought was enough to make him go cross-eyed with lust and when he lifted his hands to her waist, they were shaking.

  She’s so tiny, Jazz thought. Her waist was slender, so narrow he could nearly span it with his hands. Slender, almost delicate, like some kind of fairy princess and yet so strong. He could feel the strength in her hands as she clasped his shoulders, reaching up against him.

  “Take me inside,” she whispered, lifting her head so she could stare at him.

  “Anne-Marie…”

  “Don’t tell me we shouldn’t do this. Don’t tell me anything. Just take me inside, Jazz. This is what I want.”

  Passion hot enough to melt the slopes…and their hearts.

  Snowbound

  © 2007 Larissa Ione

  Thanks to a devastating medical diagnosis, ski patroller Sean Trenton has endured two years of celibacy. Two long years that have chipped away at his confidence. Now, with the career opportunity of a lifetime on the line, he’s ready to remedy the celibacy situation, and sexy snowbunny Robyn Montgomery is just what the doctor ordered.