Fighting Fate: Book 2 of the Warrior Chronicles

by Leigh Morgan

  “What does it mean?”

  Jesse captured her hand in his, holding it away from him, making her feel the loss. “When you’re ready to know, I’ll tell you.” His tone brooked no attempt at negotiation.

  Taryn wasn’t sure what to make of his answer, or the fact that he clearly didn’t want her to pursue it, but she let it drop mainly because she wanted to keep touching him more than she wanted to know the meaning of that tattoo. She leaned into him, rubbing him with her breasts. He dropped her hand, his own moving back to his side.

  Her eyes moved to his face, her hands to his pants. She unzipped his pants and then moved her hands to the small of his back, easing them down. It wasn’t as easy as it should have been, his penis kept them up when they otherwise would have fallen of their own accord. When they finally did fall, Jesse kicked them aside just far enough not to trip over them.

  She would have looked down, but he pulled her to him, one arm around her bottom, one hand at her nape. Leaning in, she groaned as his cock surged between her legs, touching her with its heat, bathing itself in the dampness she couldn’t control and didn’t want to hide.

  Jesse held her to him, rocking back and forth, growing even harder with each stroke. His angle was perfect, rubbing against her clitoris with his full length, each push and pull wetting the entire length of her with her own essence. It wasn’t going to take much more before he had her shuddering uncontrollably.

  His hand at her nape moved her head closer to his, tipping her so she was looking directly into his eyes as they bled from deep blue, to navy, then black. “Tell me you want this. Tell me you want me.”

  Taryn didn’t hesitate. “I want this. I’ve wanted you inside me since the moment I felt you outside my door and I knew I had nothing to fear from your presence there. It doesn’t make sense, but I wanted you then. I want you now. Don’t make me wait.”

  Jesse’s eyes flared, and this time when the heat came it poured out of him. He didn’t let it bank. He picked her up and placed her on the bed, following her down, letting her feel his weight.

  “I want to see all of you.” She said.

  “Later.”

  “Now.”

  Jesse got up, opened the drawer in the table next to the bed and pulled out a sleeve of condoms. He tore three off, putting two under the pillow where Taryn’s head rested, giving her the view she’d asked for. He opened the third with his teeth and slid it on with a quick efficiency she envied. She’d always made a muck of putting on condoms, but she didn’t mind watching him do it. There was something elementally satisfying in watching Jesse run his hands over his penis, no matter how briefly.

  “May we continue now?” His tone was light. His expression was not.

  She smiled, feeling like the most beautiful woman on the planet in that moment as she nodded her head and spread her legs, letting her knees fall to the side, hiding nothing from him. He ran one finger up her labia to her clitoris, opening her fully. He took his finger and brought it to his mouth, licking the dampness. Holding himself with one hand he eased his way into her opening.

  There was something in his eyes that touched her, burning her core with what this meant for him. When it became too hot for her to take, Taryn closed her eyes against the truth he was forcing her to see and pushed against him, forcing him to focus on the heat of their bodies and not the longing of their hearts.

  Jesse surged forward as her hands on his ass pulled him in forcefully, with so much determination to feel every sensation he could give her, that he was awed by the open rawness of her. When he was fully sheathed he dropped his forehead to hers, waiting for her to adjust to his size and his weight, giving him time to adjust to her liquid heat and the way her walls pulled him deeper, demanding more.

  “Wait, sweetheart. Give it a moment.” What he didn’t say was: I don’t want to hurt you. And he meant it. He never wanted to be the one who caused her even a second of pain.

  Taryn released the talon-like grip she had on his lower buttocks, replacing her hands with one strong calf, continuing to hold him tightly to her. As if he’d pull back now, he thought, but she didn’t seem to be taking any chances. Her hands cupped his face as she drew his mouth to hers. She kissed him, softly at first, running her tongue along the seam of his lips, sweetly demanding entrance. He opened and suddenly she was everywhere. In his mouth, in his head, surrounding the pounding heart of him, writhing beneath him in a way he couldn’t ignore. Just as he began to kiss her with the primal force riding him, she pulled her mouth away, breathing hard. The earnestness in her sky blue eyes as they searched his made him want more than sweetness or savagery or bone-melting-all-consuming-heat. It made him want forever, and that was a very dangerous thing.

  “I don’t want to wait. Never again. I want you now and I want your skin on mine every day we’re together.” Reminding him of their contract and the fact that the clock was ticking wasn’t the wisest thing she could have done in that moment. Had she asked for the moon then he’d have found a way to give it to her. Instead she wanted his body.

  So. Be. It.

  Jesse pulled out, watching her face, then he thrust in hard. She was ready. Her body told him that as it arched up to meet him. The precarious control he was exercising was as thin as a single strand of silk. Lucky for them both it was also as strong. In that moment Jesse vowed that she’d love him, that she’d want to stay with him, that she’d be his until they no longer breathed air. And, when this life came to its inevitable end, their energies would mingle in the ether of the universe and neither of their spirits would ever be alone again.

  Even if he needed to chart the course to that end with his cock, his fingers, his tongue.

  Never once did he let her look away as he willed her to acknowledge the vow he’d just made. When he finished it in his heart and his head, her inner walls began to pull at him. Taryn closed her eyes, threw her head back and came in waves of sensation that coursed through her and into him until the tip of him seemed to sing with its white-hot energy.

  He came, shouting his release to the heavens. Sealing his vow.

  Jesse pulled out, grabbed his t-shirt and discarded his used condom. He went back to Taryn who was watching him with a look of tenuous awe on her face as he approached, still semi-hard. He waited for her to speak. He was getting used to her saying something to deflate him or to diminish his words. She held her arms out to him instead. Jesse went to her, spread her thighs and gently cleaned her before discarding the shirt again as he pulled her into his arms. He covered them both with the sheet, and held her close to his heart as he had every night since they met.

  When he woke the sun was low in the western sky.

  His shirt was gone.

  So was Taryn.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Magnus came into Shay’s room as Shay was finished throwing his gear in his duffle. What weapons he could pack were already on a jet with the advanced team he and Jesse assembled. They’d arrive in Wiltshire in a little over five hours.

  “I thought you weren’t supposed to leave until tomorrow.” Magnus sounded more confused than hurt.

  “Sorry about this, kid.” Shay said, turning. He was sorry, mostly because he didn’t have time to talk about why Magnus hadn’t bothered to tell his mother who he was staying with. Mari had no idea the man behind the door would be him when she came looking for their son, and as much as he’d relished her shocked reaction, he didn’t intend to countenance any damage to Mari’s relationship with her son.

  “Bloody hell, man, what happened to you?”

  Shay laughed. “Bloody hell’s about right. I gave it and got it back in spades.” Shay gave him the broad outlines of what happened.

  “You got beat up by a girl?”

  Since that was the bottom line, although not close to the totality of it, Shay let his son’s amused question pass. He changed the subject instead.

  “I’ve got to go away tonight. Probably be gone for at least a month, maybe six weeks. I’d love it if y
ou’d stay here. Your mother too. I’ve cleared it with Seamus. Your grandfather will stay. He’s taken a shine to the place I think, so you won’t be on your own.”

  “What about Mom?”

  “I’m on my way to talk to her next. She’s welcome to stay, although I can’t guarantee she’ll want to after the shock of seeing me.” Shay zipped his duffle shut. “We’ll be having a talk about that when I get back.”

  Magnus must have sensed the bit of censor in Shay’s voice because he didn’t even try hiding his own when he asked, “Will we be talk’n about why you left my mother in the first place?”

  Shay turned to his son wishing his obligation to Reed and Jesse and that oaf Jordon didn’t require he leave now. He crossed to where Magnus stood, tall and dark and so incredibly handsome. It choked Shay’s throat every time he looked at him. Shay fervently hoped that reaction eased in the years to come because it was damned inconvenient and it left him feeling, er, misty. He didn’t like feeling misty. Shay threw an arm around his son and kissed the side of his head.

  “Aye, son. We’ll be talk’n about both. And anything else you want to discuss.”

  Magnus drew him in and hugged Shay back with almost as much strength as his mountain of a grandfather possessed. “Come back, Dad.”

  “I will. Count on it. I’ll Skype you in the morning.”

  …

  Mari liked Sham’s house. It was expansive and open and surrounded by flowers. There was more to Shannon O’Shay than was evident here. Even the spans of time didn’t change a man like her Sham, not fundamentally anyway, and she’d seen no sign here of his roots.

  There was a knock on her door and she knew without being told she’d summoned her own personal devil. Her heart began to beat with anticipation as she acknowledged she was almost as excited about seeing Sham as she was about seeing Magnus. Mari opened the door and came face to face with the bruised and battered love of her life.

  “Oh my sweet Brigid, what happened to you?” Mari asked, pulling Shay into the room.

  Her hands went to his face first, turning it this way, then that, taking in his injuries. She ran her hands down his neck, over his chest and shoulders, testing his ribs and his kidneys, waiting for signs of pain. He grimaced when her hands brushed his floating ribs causing a swift inhalation of her own breath. She took his hands in hers looking for tell tale bruising on the knuckles. Nothing. She dropped his hands and rubbed down each of his legs. She thought she heard him groan, but she could detect no injuries.

  “You look like hell. Does it hurt?” Mari asked touching one cheek, careful to avoid his shattered blue and purple nose and each of his black eyes.

  Shay shrugged. “You should see the other guy.”

  “I hope he’s not walking.”

  Shay grinned and two decades melted away. “I forgot how blood thirsty you can be.”

  Mari couldn’t help returning his smile. “Well? Is he or is he not walking?”

  “Do you care?”

  “Aye. If only for the sake of family pride.”

  “Are we family, Mari-girl?”

  “Your blood flows in my son’s veins. Call it pride in my son’s warrior lineage.”

  Being this close to him again, bantering with him, it was exhilarating and exciting in a way she hadn’t felt since he left. Reminding herself that he’d been the one who walked out, before she swooned again like putty at his feet, was punishing, but not half as much as loving him and watching him leave her again. She was too old and too smart to play his game twice. Mari turned away, took a deep breath and wondered, not for the first time, why she was still here. She heard Shay’s heavy sigh behind her and she knew he felt the climate in the room change just as surely as she did.

  “I have to go away for a few weeks, Mari.”

  She spun around, suddenly furious. “Your son just got here and now you’re running away. I just-”

  Shay was on her, holding her arms to her sides, shaking her gently. “This isn’t about you, Dagmar. It’s not about Magnus either. I have to go. It’s my job. It’s also my obligation, which I take very seriously.”

  “And you owe no duty to Magnus?”

  Shay let her go, smiling in a way that cut more than it healed. He stepped back.

  “Now you want to talk about my obligations to my son. What about your obligations to him. What about your obligation to me. You’ve got a right to cast your stones, but you should mind your own house, woman, before you do.”

  He was right of course. She’d hidden Magnus from him, but not intentionally at first. Later, after she was married, it was too late. Then months later after her husband died, Mari had no idea how to find him had she had the inclination. Time had muted her anger. Proximity to Shay had opened the floodgates of emotion and she wanted to kiss him. She wanted to kick him in the shins too, hard enough that he wouldn’t be going anywhere in a hurry.

  “Is this thing you have to do that important?” She asked.

  He seemed taken back by her question. He looked at her askance before answering. “It is.”

  “Does it involve a woman?”

  “It does.”

  “I see.”

  “No you don’t.” Shay bridged the gap between them. “It involves two women. One I love.” When Mari tried to move away again he grabbed her, this time holding her tightly.

  “I work for Reed and her husband. Reed is my best friend and it’s fair to say I love only one woman more than her, although Reed’s daughter, Daisy, my goddaughter, comes in a close third. I have to leave to protect her older daughter, the one she gave up for adoption when she was young and scared and had nowhere to turn. The very same person who did this to my face.”

  Each word rained down on Mari like tennis balls falling from the sky. They didn’t hurt, exactly, but they were damned uncomfortable. His blackened eyes spoke of determination and more than a little desperation. Still Mari knew he was telling her the truth.

  “You have to help this woman?”

  “Her, and my family. The family I chose and will not dessert.”

  That last bit stung. He knew it and he said it anyway. The expression on his face said so. He shook her again and she was getting a little tired of being manhandled. She wasn’t going to ask when he’d be back. She didn’t need to know, but Magnus would, and that was all that mattered now. Something must have shifted on her face because Shay stopped shaking her.

  “I have to go, Dagmar. I will Skype everyday. I’ll be gone for a month, maybe a bit more.”

  He sighed again and his gray eyes turned from warrior to lover. God he was good, and heaven help her, she wasn’t immune to him. Mari doubted that another twenty years would change that.

  “I understand. Duty was always the most important thing for you. I get it. I even respect it. Do what you must.” I won’t be here when you get back.

  Shay cupped her face in his hands as he kissed her. She wasn’t going to push him away. She wasn’t going to respond. She was going to keep her heart and her body in a place he couldn’t touch no matter how hard he tried.

  His lips were soft and cajoling and she wanted him. It was a fight to hold herself back, but she was a proud woman and pride steeled her resolve.

  Pride won’t keep you warm at night, Lassie.

  “Stay, Mari. Please. I love you. I always have. I promise I’ll show you how much when I get back. Just don’t run. We’ve lost so much time already. Give me a chance, Mari-girl. I won’t let you down.”

  Shay’s cell phone rang. He ignored it and kissed her again. This time Mari kissed him back, trying to pretend it wasn’t good-bye.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Somerset, England

  Merlin surveyed the grounds surrounding the small cottage just outside of Wells he was able to rent on short notice. The cottage itself had three bedrooms by British standards, which meant that one of the three was more closet than bedroom. The grounds were lush with roses and rhododendron, aster, lavender, flowering sage, primrose and lambs ea
r. Trellises lined the stucco front and back of the cottage from ground to thick thatch at the roof which was elegantly carved into flowing patterns that resembled French script. Bottle glass, newer than period, graced the windows, letting in light while maintaining a semblance of privacy. Heavy timbers framed the glass adding to the postcard loveliness of the place.

  It was cozy and clean and as good a place as any for Taryn to explore what she thought she’d deciphered as a clue from one of her charms. The charm in question had a well in the middle of it, similar to the one the town was named for, and she remembered coming here with her parents as a child. So here they were, a week ahead of schedule for filming.

  If Taryn could have justified going to Tasmania by looking at that charm bracelet, that’s where they’d be right now, chasing devils and taking names. She wasn’t looking for answers on how best to find clues to help her continue her father’s work, she was running away. Simple and stupid. In Merlin’s experience those two words described every set of lovers he’d helped to fulfill their destinies. The ones who were the most worthy of the effort, never made it easy.

  He’d left a suggestion in Jesse’s psyche, making him dream of Wells, but that didn’t mean that the man would take the hint. That’s why he’d also used one of the credit cards he’d swiped from Jesse’s wallet. First to book first class plane tickets, he loved first class, and secondly to buy some very nice Bordeaux and Brie from a well equipped wine and cheese shop in Wells. Merlin envied the French three things: great wine, even better cheese and their ease in love making. Lovers from France always made it easy, a nice change of pace from these fledgling Americans. But then it was life’s challenges that made it worth hanging around.

  Yes, Merlin thought, there is magic here. Lot’s of it. Taryn was simply looking in the wrong place. He picked up a stone from the backyard turning it over in his palm, knowing it had seen the time of the great knights and would see the time of tarnished knights who wore t-shirts and motorcycle boots, who knew more about pulling triggers than throwing lances but were chivalrous and honorable nonetheless. Warriors had changed over the centuries. What made them true knights had not.