Kiss of Fire (St. James Family)

by Parker, Lavender

  “I love you,” she whispered, and she whimpered as he drove into her, his body hard and unyielding. “God, I love you,” she moaned, as he thrust deep, just like she wanted it. The desk rattled beneath her as he pounded into her, both of them muffling their moans of pleasure.

  “Fuck,” he moaned, swerving his hips. “I'm never letting you go again.”

  “Are you going to tie me to your bed?” she asked, breathlessly.

  “You are reading my mind, lovely,” he said, trailing his mouth up her neck as he plunged deep again. “That's why I came here tonight. To kidnap you,” he said. “Take you away where no one can find you, and keep you all for myself.” He punctuated the statement with a devastatingly hard thrust.

  “Oh,” was all she could say. She couldn't argue with that. It sounded like a great idea. Yes, ma'am! She felt her eyes roll back in her head, a wide smile on her face, as he found her spot and she pulled him closer, their bodies moving together until they both climaxed, their limbs tangled together as if holding on for dear life. Breathing hard, he dropped his forehead to her should as he withdrew from her. She frowned, immediately hating how empty she felt without his big dick in her.

  “Lift,” he said, tapping her bottom. She lifted her hips, and he pulled her panties down her legs. He cleaned his come off of her thighs with the slip of black satin, then folded them up and put them in his pocket. She stood reluctantly, rolling her dress back down her legs, attempting to smooth it out to no avail.

  “We look like we just fucked, don't we?” she asked, taking in his wrinkled shirt and her bunched dress.

  “I don't give a shit.” He pulled her close again, dropping his hands to her ass. “I love the way you look after I've fucked you.” Then he kissed her, and she forgot all about how they looked. His kiss was soft, but demanding, and when he pulled away, his face was serious. “Toni, I'm going to marry you, you know that? Maybe not this year, or next year, but I will. I'll take you down to the courthouse as soon as you'll have me.”

  “Do I have any say in this?” she asked, raising an eyebrow, not able to resist playing with him.

  “Yeah. You get to pick the date,” he said, a slight smile curling over his lips.

  “So if I said let's get married tomorrow, you'd put a ring on it tomorrow?”

  “In a heartbeat,” he said, and she knew he was telling the truth. Then he reached inside his jacket and pulled out a little green velvet box.

  “What is that?” she asked, even though she knew exactly what it was. He opened the box, revealing a small diamond solitaire.

  “Marry me,” he said, not really asking at all.

  “What if I say no?”

  “I'll carry you out of here, tie you to my bed, and make love to you until you say yes.”

  “And if I say yes?”

  “I'm still going to tie you to my bed, there's no getting out of that,” he deadpanned and she giggled.

  “Maybe I'll just wear it for awhile, and see how it feels,” she said, sticking out her left hand. He took the ring out of the box and slid the cold metal slowly down over her finger. The diamond shone in the light and Toni held it up to look at it. It felt weird to have O'Donovan's ring on her finger, after all that had happened. But it also felt good. Really fucking good.

  “It's not much,” he said.

  “Are you kidding? It's everything,” she said, staring down at the ring. It was so simple, and yet so beautiful, like a single star in the night sky.

  “I'm done playing around, Toni,” he said, after awhile. “I don't want anyone else. Only you.”

  “I don't want anyone else, either,” she said, her eyes still on the ring.

  “Then stop torturing me. Say yes,” he said and she knew she didn't really have a choice. She loved him too much to refuse him. She was going to marry Sebastian O'Donovan. What a trip.

  “Yes,” she said, simply. He closed his eyes for a moment, and she knew exactly how he was feeling, because she was right there with him. Her whole body was bursting with happiness, but also dizzying disbelief. Twenty-four hours ago, she'd been ready to leave the city and O'Donovan behind. Now here they were, and she'd never been so overjoyed in her whole life. Not even dancing to a standing-room-only crowd made her feel this good. Life certainly did have strange ways of working itself out, she mused, sliding her arms around her man's shoulders and pulling him close. Strange ways, indeed.

  “Can the kidnapping begin now?” she asked.

  “Hell yeah,” O'Donovan said, a full-on grin lighting up his face.

  They found Nat and Christophe in the dining room, surrounded by a crowd of people. Toni held O'Donovan's hand as she lead him around the edge of the throng, trying to get Nat's attention. She finally caught her sister's eye and Nat blinked as she took in Toni's smile. Toni held up her left hand, revealing the diamond ring. Nat's eyes widened, tears already forming, and she knew tomorrow, she'd call her sister and give her all the details. But tonight, she had other business to attend to.

  “Go,” Nat mouthed, and Toni raised an eyebrow.

  “You sure?”

  “Go,” Nat mouth again, a tear sliding down her cheek. Toni blew her sister a kiss, and then looked to Christophe, who was smiling at her knowingly. She threw him a wink, then pulled O'Donovan out of the room, wanting nothing more than to get out in the fresh air. As they threw open the door and rushed down the stoop, she kicked off her shoes, and he unbuttoned his shirt midway, ready to throw it off as soon as possible. He caught her around the waist, squeezing her tight and lifting her off her feet. She squealed with laughter as he spun her around under the light of the street lamp. The early fall air was cool, but felt like heaven on her warm skin. She lifted her arms to the inky blue sky, ready for whatever was to come. Marriage. Babies. Change. She could handle it. Bring it on, she thought, sliding down into her man's arms and giving him a breathlessly joyous kiss.

  Epilogue

  “Be careful, don't hurt yourself.”

  “I'm not a dummy, I'm not going to cut myself!”

  “Watch that knife,” O'Donovan said, chuckling, the joint dangling between his lips.

  “I just might stab you with it if you're not careful,” Toni giggled, jabbing at the onions on the cutting board. “Are these chopped enough?”

  “Hell no, love. Keep chopping.” He took a deep drag of the joint, and she tipped back her head so he could blow his smoke into her mouth. Then they both laughed like fools as she coughed.

  “Okay, let a real man show you how it's done,” he said. She took the joint from him and he wrapped his arms around her, taking over the chopping. She rolled her head back onto his bare shoulder and took a drag. She saw the dark marks on her wrist from where he tied her to the bed, but she could only smile. He'd made good on his promise, that was for sure. For the two days they'd been at the beach cabin, they'd barely gotten out of bed, but Toni was not complaining in the least. She was walking on air, light as a feather. And high as a kite.

  “Love, quit distracting me.” he hissed in her ear. She giggled, her hands roaming between his legs to fondle his nakedness. “We have to eat.”

  “I know,” Toni said, she said, but she didn't stop.

  “Food first, then fucking,” he said, rubbing his rough cheek against hers and she sighed, happily. So happily. She didn't know it was possible to be as happy as she was in that moment. Late the night before, they'd laid in bed facing each other, talking. For hours they talked. Talked about the accident. Talked about what had happened since they'd been apart. Talked about the future. It was decided that O'Donovan would move into the apartment on 100th, when his transfer came through. It was decided that Toni would stay in New York, because she didn't really want to be anywhere else. Especially not now.

  Lastly, it was decided that Toni was going to learn to cook. O'Donovan was taking it upon himself to give her her first lesson, but she was determined to tease him endlessly until he had no choice but to bend her over the table and punish her. She was getting close,
she could feel. His erection was hard against her ass and she was getting impatient. Very impatient.

  “Your phone's ringing,” he whispered in her ear.

  “Who cares?” she mumbled back, intent on stroking his dick.

  “Well turn it off then.” He bit down on her earlobe. “This kidnapping isn't over yet.”

  “Alright, alright,” she ducked under his arm and kneeled by her purse, digging around for her phone. As she was about to turn it off, she noticed she had five missed calls from her sister. She wondered if something was wrong with the baby? Concerned, she called her sister back, despite O'Donovan giving her a disapproving look. She stuck her tongue out at him as the phone rang on the other end.

  “Toni, where are you?” Nat said, her voice brisk. Something was wrong, Toni knew immediately.

  “What's wrong?”

  “Guess who just paid me a visit? Vivica. She's here in New York!”

  “Oh,” Toni said, not knowing what else to say.

  “She came to see me today, out of the blue. Dragging me back into her problems. I can't believe this shit.”

  “What problems?” Toni asked, furrowing her brow.

  “She's pregnant, Toni. She's fucking pregnant!”

  ***

  Coming Fall 2014

  KISS OF LIFE

  ST. JAMES FAMILY:

  BOOK THREE

  "She froze in the doorway, the muggy air holding her in its embrace. Niko Hernandez. Here. Her mind went blank and a single solitary thought throbbed through her subconscious - Don't let him go."

  Black sheep Vivica St. James lives on the edge. Always looking for her next fix—of drugs, of sex, of money. She'll do anything to leave the awful childhood she escaped far behind her. But there's one person she could never forget. Niko Hernandez. Her first love. The man she compares all men to. Now, after eight long years, he's here, in the same room, and she'll do anything to keep him close. Lie. Cheat. Steal. Beg...

  Niko has never forgotten scrawny, scheming Vivica St. James. She may be a famous model now, but to him, she's still the same—trouble with a side of drama. After eight years, she's materialized in front of him, and he can't help but want to protect her. And she needs him. But how do you save someone who doesn't want to be saved?

  Enjoy this Sneak Preview from Stone Cold Knockout (House of Pain #1), Lavender Parker's new series about a boxing club, coming Summer 2014:

  Chapter 1

  “You want to show off, little girl? I'll watch.” The thick Russian accent rolled off his tongue, his minty-fresh breath against her ear. Who the fuck had snuck up on her while she was training? Gennifer Rodriguez turned around swinging, only missing the tall white guy because he dodged her with a laugh. She narrowed her eyes and turned back to the punching bag, prepared to fully ignore him. Of course, he wasn't going to play along.

  “You have good form,” he said, amusement ringing in his voice. He chewed on gum, his jaw working.

  “Fuck off, asshole.” Genny pounded on the bag, imagining his face where her fist landed. He chuckled.

  “You fight angry.” He leaned against the brick wall a few feet away. The gym was empty except for the two of them, she noticed, scanning out of the corner of her eye. Great. Big Jimmy was no where to be seen. Maybe he was upstairs in the office? A tremor of fear ran down her spine, but she shook it off and punched the bag again. She used less power this time, wanting to conserve her strength, just in case the creep tried anything. Gennifer was used to being one of the only women in a boxing gym and all that came with it. She'd been accosted more times than she cared to remember. Usually Big Jimmy, the owner of the gym, or Hector, the manager, were around to mop up any dirt that she couldn't take care of on her own.

  Pivoting on her heel, she decided to face him head on. She crossed her arms over her C cups, keenly aware she was only wearing a sports bra and leggings, and glared at him. He smiled, revealing a missing incisor on his upper right side. From fighting, no doubt. A dentist by trade, her interest was piqued. She'd love to get him in the chair. He'd pay her way to a nice vacation. He swept his eyes from her feet to her face, the smile never wavering. Gennifer followed suit, taking in his broad shoulders and trim hips. He was tall, at least six two. His tank top revealed his muscular arms were covered in tattoos. He cracked the knuckles on his big hands, covered in white tape.

  “You got a problem?” Gennifer asked, her voice Bronx tough.

  “I do, actually.” He cocked his bald head, his grey eyes glittering. He was dangerous. Very dangerous. “I am in need of sparring partner.” He motioned around the big empty room. “No one here but you.”

  “I have a solution. Find another gym.” She raised a sculpted eyebrow, then turned back to the bag, hoping he would take the hint and get lost.

  “Spar with me,” he said, not asking, telling. Gennifer cast a look over her shoulder.

  “Men sparring with women isn't allowed here,” she said, even though it killed her to do so. She'd been fighting Big Jimmy's dumb rule as long as she'd been coming to his gym, but here she was quoting it to the Russian. What a trip.

  “But you like to break rules,” he said.

  “Look, creep, you don't know me,” Gennifer said, punctuating with a jab to the bag. “Who are you anyway? I know everybody that comes in here.”

  “Mikhail,” he said, stepping closer. She felt her muscles tightening in response, not sure if it was fear or something else.

  “Hmm.” Gennifer murmured, focusing on how close he was getting.

  “Anything else you want to know?”

  “No,” she said, punching the bag again.

  “Your name?” he asked.

  “Gennifer,” she said, grudgingly.

  “Lovely. Spar with me, Gennifer. I go easy on you. I promise,” he said, his voice light and teasing. Gennifer took a breath. She'd been wanting to spar with a man for a long time. Hector would sometimes get in the ring with her, but he would never bring it. He would soften his blows, slow himself down to keep the playing field level. He made her feel weak. And she hated feeling weak. What Mikhail offered was terrifying, but also intriguing. A chance to go no holds barred with a guy in the ring? She couldn't turn him down.

  “Don't go easy on me,” she said, turning to meet him, surprised to find him almost directly behind her. She stood glaring up at him, her five seven to his six something. “Bring it.”

  He licked his lips, looking at her through his lashes. He mumbled something in Russian, his eyes never leaving hers. She blinked. Damn. She never knew the Russian language could sound so sexy. Usually she thought of Russians as tracksuit wearing mobsters on Brighton Beach, not hunks of muscle with killer arms and devilish smiles. A shiver ran down her spine. She shook off the feelings and pushed past him to the ring. She ignored the hand he offered, and pulled herself up on the ropes.

  Gennifer watched him as he hopped into the ring, the muscles rippling in his shoulders and arms as he hauled himself up. She hopped from one foot to the other, averting her eyes from his distracting physique. He obviously took care of himself. Who was he? The question echoed in her mind. No one had mentioned a new Russian member of the club. But she hadn't been to the gym in a few weeks, she reminded herself. After Big Jimmy refused to let her sign up for the yearly Bout It competition AGAIN, because no other women had signed up to fight. She'd been so pissed she'd grabbed her stuff and stalked out, slamming the door. A 32-year-old woman, acting like a teenager!

  The problem was that all the old-timers like Big Jimmy, and the lifers like Hector, still saw her as the malnourished 14-year-old who collected towels while the big boys fought. Eventually, she'd convinced Hector, who was sixteen at the time, to teach her to fight. Big Jimmy had not been pleased, especially when an uppercut to the face broke her nose. Big Jimmy was old-school, he didn't like to see girls getting hit. And that was fine...but she wanted to fight. And she was tired of being told no. She was a grown-ass woman, who had paid her dues. She wasn't small and vulnerable anymore. She co
uld hold her own in the ring. At the very least, she wanted the opportunity to try. She watched Mikhail stitch up his boxing gloves.

  “You ever go bare-knuckle?” he asked.

  “Sure,” she shrugged.

  “You have to show me some time.” He flashed that grin again, his dark eyes dancing. He held out his gloves, and she touched them with her own. The fight was on. They moved counterclockwise, a foot or so apart. She made the first move, jabbing at his face. He dodged, and returned with a jab of his own that barely missed her. “You are beautiful. You know that?” he said, jabbing again and connected with her ribcage. She felt the air leaving her lungs in a whoosh, but she didn't fall back. He definitely wasn't going easy on her. She jabbed at his face, and connected with his jaw this time. He grunted, falling back.

  “You're not the first to tell me that,” she said. “You won't be the last.” She swung again, at his abs, connecting. She leaned in, uppercutting twice more. She loved the sound of the gloves against soft tissue, echoing across the gym. They were the only two around, no one was there to ogle them or cheer them or try and stop them. It was almost eerie, the quiet. Boom! Mikhail came back at her, with a hit to the face that had her seeing stars. She felt her lip split open. But she didn't fall back. She uppercut to his jaw, connecting. Then she followed with a jab to his midsection. He hopped back, dancing around the edge of the ring. She was impressed by his footwork.

  “Where did you train?” she asked, swiping her nose with her glove.

  “Here and there.” He smiled that mischievous smile again.

  “You have any big matches?” She darted in, jabbing. He dodged her, getting a shot in at her exposed side.