The Mammoth Book of Hot Romance

by Sonia Florens

  As she pressed back into the shadows, she saw the wolf reappear, this time behind the two men. With a mighty leap, he took both of them down, and they screamed as they hit the ground. Her heart blocking her windpipe, she watched the fight, knowing that Zack was in serious danger. He could have run into the jungle and escaped. Instead, he had stayed – to save her.

  He might be a … She couldn’t say it. Not even in her mind. But she knew he could have abandoned her. Instead he was putting up a tremendous fight, against two armed men. He bit the gun hand of one, clawed at the other. She couldn’t let the uneven fight go on.

  But what could she do?

  Running to the shelves, she grabbed the axe handle he’d mentioned. Too bad it wasn’t the whole axe.

  Without giving herself time to think, she sprinted out the door, into the heart of the fight. Swinging the handle like a club, she brought it down on the head of one man, hearing a satisfying clunk as it connected with flesh and bone. The man went limp, and she hit him again for good measure. The wolf and the other gunman were still fighting. She would have snatched up the machine gun if she’d known how to use it. Or if she’d been sure she could hit the man and not the wolf. Instead she was forced to step back and wait for an opening to clobber the man, but the wolf was on top of him, growling and snarling. She heard teeth crunch through bone, and then the assailant went still.

  The wolf raised his head, looking at her, and their eyes met. All at once, she was too stunned to speak. Stunned by the wolf and stunned by what she had done.

  He took a few steps away from her. As she watched, he reversed the process. In seconds, Zack Marshall was standing in front of her.

  “You could have gotten hurt,” he said.

  “So could you,” she shot back.

  She was still in shock from seeing him change. But that hadn’t stopped her from rushing into the fight without thinking – to save him.

  Naked, he knelt down and searched the pockets of the nearest man and pulled out a cell phone. “Let’s see if I remember the emergency number,” he said as he pressed buttons. Punching in a number, he waited for someone to pick up. “This is a guest at El Sol y Enrolla Resort,” he said when someone answered. “The resort’s been attacked by men armed with machine guns.” He listened for a moment then said, “No, I don’t know who the hell they are. I managed to disable one of them and take his cell phone. A number of guests and staff are dead. We need help.” He waited for an answer, then hung up. “The national police already got several calls from guests. They’re on the way,” he said, then walked past Jenna.

  She followed him into the hut, watching him pull on his pants, then his shirt. Her mouth was almost too dry to speak, but she tried. “You …”

  “I’m a werewolf,” he said, voicing what she hadn’t been able to get out of her mouth. “I guess that turned out to be convenient, under the circumstances.”

  She nodded. “You should have told me.”

  Turning to face her, he gave a harsh laugh. “You think that’s a conversation I have with a woman before we make love?”

  “I guess not.”

  “Until now, none of them has found out because it wasn’t important to them.”

  “But I did, because we were attacked.”

  “You would have found out anyway.” He lifted one shoulder. “I told you I came to San Marcos to outrun my destiny. And I found you here.”

  “Your destiny?” she asked, still grappling with everything that had happened. It was too much to take in. All of it.

  “Around the age of thirty, the men in my family are compelled to look for a mate. When they find her, they bond. Wolves mate for life,” he said in a flat voice.

  “What if I don’t want to … mate with you for life? What if I was just looking for a holiday fling?”

  His face contorted. “I hope that’s not true. I knew as soon as I saw you …” He stopped and started again. “I think you’re my life mate now.”

  He was about to say something else, when the sound of gunfire split the air.

  Zack leaped forwards, grabbed Jenna, and threw her down to the surface of the bed, covering her body with his.

  She felt his warmth. The protective way he covered her. He was shielding her with his body. And something inside her seemed to break apart. He’d told her she was tied to him. Was that really true? Could she walk away from him? Or would that be as bad as death? The notion was absurd. She’d just met him. She’d made love to him once. Yet as they lay together on the bed, she couldn’t stop herself from wondering if they truly were bound together.

  The gunfire went on for a long time, and she guessed that government troops had landed on the island and were fighting it out with the gunmen.

  Finally, there was a long silence.

  “What do we do now?” she whispered.

  “Wait until we know it’s safe.”

  “How will we know?”

  “A wolf could investigate.”

  She grabbed his arm. “No! It’s too dangerous. One of the soldiers could shoot you.”

  “Would you care?” he asked in a gritty voice.

  “Of course I’d care!”

  He turned towards her, and she saw the strained look on his face, knowing that what she’d just said meant a lot to him. How much did it mean to her? He’d said she was his life mate. And she’d been too shocked and frightened to deal with that reality.

  She was about to speak when a blaring sound startled her. “What?”

  In the next moment, she realized it was a loudspeaker.

  “This is Capitán José Mendoza of the San Marcos military. We have secured the resort. If you are hiding in the hotel or on the grounds, it is safe to come out,” a man’s voice boomed out.

  “Is it a trick?” Jenna asked.

  “I don’t know. Stay here while I go find out.”

  “No!”

  He looked angry.

  “What? You expect your … mate to obey you?” She’d said it without thinking. Was she his mate?

  “You are precious to me,” he answered, emotion lacing his voice.

  When he started slowly back towards the resort, she followed. At the edge of the jungle, they both stopped.

  On the lawn, they could see armed men, but these men looked different. They were wearing camouflage uniforms.

  “Stay here,” Zack growled, and this time she recognized an order.

  “We’re American citizens coming in from the jungle,” he called.

  Immediately, the man turned towards them. “Hands on your heads.”

  Jenna stared at Zack. “Why?”

  “They don’t know we’re OK. But it’s going to be all right.” He put his hands on his head and stepped from the shelter of the trees. Struggling to hold herself steady, Jenna did the same.

  Twilight was falling, which was probably a blessing, because she could make out the bodies of the people she’d seen earlier on the beach.

  Another soldier with a gun approached them and patted them down. “Do you have your passports?” he asked in heavily accented English.

  “In my room,” Jenna said.

  “Mine also,” Zack said.

  “Which room is that?”

  “We weren’t staying together,” she answered.

  “You’re together now.”

  “Mr Marshall …” She started to say that he’d killed one of the armed men, but it was the wolf who’d done it. She finished, “Saved my life by taking me into the jungle.”

  “You encountered some of the rebels?”

  “I hid from them as they came up from the beach.”

  “We’re both pretty shook up,” Zack said. “We’d like to collect our stuff and get out of here.”

  They both gave their room numbers.

  “I’m sorry. There’s … carnage in the lobby,” the soldier said. “You’ll have to wait outside.”

  “How many dead?” Zack asked.

  “Thirty-two guests. So far. There may be more. And ten rebel
s.”

  Jenna closed her eyes for a moment. She would have been among the dead if Zack hadn’t come along.

  The soldier led them to a patio area where other hotel guests sat in deckchairs looking shell-shocked.

  A middle-aged man dressed in a rumpled flowered shirt and green pants glanced up as they also found chairs among the group. “What happened to you?”

  “We hid in the jungle,” Zack said.

  “We barricaded ourselves in our room,” he replied, putting his arm around a woman whose dyed red hair needed a good brushing. “The soldiers got here in time.”

  Others chimed in. Ieemed that the guests who had been in their rooms were the ones who survived. Except for Jenna and Zack.

  The officer came back with their passports. “We’re evacuating everyone to the mainland,” he said. “Your bags will be packed and sent to you later. Your rooms will be paid for by the government.”

  She didn’t love leaving her belongings, but she could see there was no point in arguing about it.

  Twenty minutes later they were on a helicopter for a short ride to the capital, Santa Isabella. The flight back was noisy. She sat next to Zack saying nothing, trying to work her way through everything that had happened.

  They were driven to an upscale hotel where they got in line at the registration desk. Knowing that everyone was staring at the refugees from the massacre, she kept her gaze straight ahead. When the clerk asked if she was registering alone, she turned and looked at Zack.

  “Señor Marshall and I are together,” she said.

  She saw a wealth of emotions flood across his face, but this was obviously not the time for a private discussion.

  When the door of their room had closed behind her, he asked, “Did you change your mind about … us?”

  She swallowed hard. “I don’t know,” she answered honestly. “I think I need to find out.”

  He went very still as he stared down at her. In the dimly lit hallway of the room, she raised her hand, touching his face, then his lips, tracing their outline, marvelling at their softness. Just that one touch flooded her with physical sensation and emotion she’d been holding in check since they’d returned to the resort.

  His mouth opened, so that his strong white teeth could worry her fingertips, sending heat through her body. He moved her hand, and his lips came down on hers. This time she wasn’t as frantic as before. She could let herself enjoy the taste of him, the feel of him against the length of her body.

  She spoke against his lips, nibbling the words. “Show me how it is for your life mate.”

  He gathered her to him, rocking with her as they kissed and stroked each other, each touch, each kiss building the incredible sensual pleasure between them.

  His hands shook as they worked to pull off her shirt, then her bikini top, and she helped him with her skirt before tackling his jeans and knit shirt.

  Finally, after what felt like an eternity, they were both naked, still standing near the door.

  When he bent to press his face against her breasts, turning his head first one way and then the other, she stroked her fingers through his hair and held him to her. He found one hardened nipple with his mouth, teasing her with his tongue, wringing a glad cry from her, then another as he began to draw on her.

  She could feel his cock, hard and swollen, pressing against her middle.

  “I suggest we get horizontal,” he murmured.

  They staggered together down the hall, where he ripped back the covers and took her down to the surface of the bed.

  With sighs and sounds of pleasure, they rocked together, touching, stroking, kissing.

  She had thought the first time with him had been good. Incredibly, this was better. Because she understood something that he’d tried to tell her. She belonged to him, heart, mind and soul.

  His hand slid along the curve of her hip, trailing fire down her body. The fire flamed higher as his fingers dipped into the hot, slick core of her.

  He took a leisurely trip from her vagina to her clit, teasing her there before pressing two fingers inside her. Moving between her knees, he lowered his face to her, his fingers still working in and out of her vagina as he lapped at her with his lips and tongue, circing her clit, then sliding into her swollen folds.

  “You’re going to make me come,” she panted.

  He raised his head far enough to say, “That’s the idea.”

  “Not yet.”

  She slid away from him, then angled her body so that she could capture the hard, distended shaft of his cock with her mouth. Closing her lips around him, she sucked on him strongly as she slid her head back and forth.

  He gasped, his fingers digging into her shoulder.

  With his cock in her mouth, she could feel the tremors quivering along his length and judge her effect on him. Stopping before she pushed him over the edge, she lay back on the bed and held out her arms.

  He covered her body with his, his eyes never leaving hers as he entered her slowly, inch by erotic inch, the joining a confirmation of the words he’d spoken earlier. She belonged to him.

  “Zack. Oh, Zack,” she breathed, her arms circling his shoulders with a possessiveness she had never known before.

  When he began to move inside her, she matched his rhythm. She wanted the pleasure to last, but she knew the intensity was too great for that. She felt her inner muscles contract around him, heard herself call out his name once more. Then he was gripping her shoulders, pumping himself into her, his whole body shuddering. She felt the power of their climax, like no other in her lifetime, felt ecstasy wash over her.

  Afterwards he held her in his arms, both of them gasping for breath. And she silently admitted what she’d known since they’d made love in the jungle. The bond between them was impossible to deny.

  “I said it wrong,” he whispered.

  “What?”

  “I said you belong to me. I should have said, I belong to you.”

  She raised her head, her eyes meeting his. “I think it’s mutual. But … the wolf part is kind of scary.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. And you didn’t exactly find out the easy way.”

  She nodded against his shoulder.

  “I was trying to tell you when those gunmen closed in on us, and I had to change.”

  “I know.”

  “I think it may help to talk to some of the other life mates. It used to be that all of the guys were the head of their own pack. But we’ve learned to get along together. The women are a big part of that.”

  “Yes, I’d like to meet them.”

  “They’ll all welcome you into the family, but I’d like to be alone with you for a few more days. First.”

  She nodded again She wanted that too, wanted more of the incredible feeling of belonging to this man, body and soul. He’d excited her from the first moment she’d seen him. She hadn’t guessed what he would mean to her. But how could she? This was a situation so unique that she never could have dreamed it up.

  He climbed off the bed to find the covers he’d tossed on the floor. After tenderly covering her, he settled down beside her again. Closing her eyes, she snuggled against him, thinking that she hadn’t realized there was something basic missing from her world. She’d focused on her work. Now everything was different. Lucky for her she’d been brave enough not to run away.

  “If you’d taken off, I would have followed you,” he growled.

  She raised her head and looked at him, just a bit warily. “You read minds, too?”

  “No. But it’s not hard to imagine what’s circling through your head. Remember, I was the one who was trying to run away – from you.”

  “Lucky for me you were there when I needed you.”

  He gathered her to him, stroking his lips against her cheek. “Lucky for both of us. I think we should celebrate.”

  ould1em">“What do you have in mind?”

  He answered with a wolfish laugh, and she held him tight, thankful that she had found this incredible ma
n to share the rest of her life.

  Carnal Craving

  Charlotte Stein

  One

  There is a man standing in the corner of this loud and seething place, staring at me. He doesn’t think I know it, not while my back is turned and I’m so enthralled by the fat blue vein pulsing in the thick neck of the bartender not two feet from me.

  But he’s wrong. I can feel his gaze as surely as I’d feel his hand on my back. I can even guess the colour of his eyes without turning: a deep blue, like the ocean far out and beneath a storm coming in sky.

  It’s strange that he’s looking, I know – even with my extra layer of allure. Men these days like the waifish, sad-eyed pretty little things, I hear. I’ve seen them on the covers of magazines and in films with lots of flesh exposed. Men do not like black-haired, short, square-shouldered girls, with sharp cruel eyes and thick hips and stomachs.

  And I’m certain that men do not like girls who gorge themselves on blood and then lie fat and lazy in their beds, satisfied by things they cannot always provide.

  He’s no doubt staring because I am odd. I turn around just to see if my own oddness is reflected in his stormy ocean eyes, or in the way he’ll perhaps glance over to something else to show his contempt for me. But when I finally winkle him out amongst the dancing writhing crowd, he holds my gaze admirably.

  His eyes are as I thought they would be. But there’s none of my oddness reflected in them. Instead his gaze lies open and exposed, like a man baring his throat up to my blade. It’s an arresting expression, though I’m certain he doesn’t know he’s giving it. Perhaps it is only about the rest of the way he looks, that makes me think he looks so laid bare.

  He has a dimple in his chin, the way that Tommy did. It isn’t much of a dimple, really – it’s the kind of thing that only shows when a man turns his head one way or the other. It looks like someone pressed their finger there too long. But it’s enough to make a face more interesting, if he has that dull sort of handsomeness that some men do.

  I don’t think this man is dully handsome. I assess him flatly in a way that obviously disconcerts. He clearly does not expect me to keep staring back at him as boldly as he is staring at me – girls who aren’t like those in the magazines are not allowed to stare back. I think they are meant to be invisible in some way – in sexual terms, at least.