She looked down with wonder at herself and realized she too was transparent.
Only where they joined was solid, and their hearts.
And the pink and silver cord that pulsed between one heart and another.
Maggie couldn’t bear it. This was too much, too naked, too obvious a show of the feelings she had barely admitted to herself. That the cord ran both ways made it, in some ways, worse. Unrequited love was pathetic, but she knew how to build the façade you needed to get past being pathetic. If you pretended everything was cool long enough, you’d start to believe it.
Requited love was terrifying. You could lose it.
Then again, she’d gotten through losing her life with her sense of humor intact. If she had to, she could get through losing love.
And who knew? If they could find each other after losing everything including their lives, maybe this was meant to be.
She closed her eyes, but she could still see it: their sexes locked together, their hearts beating in unison, though they had no need to beat at all, the cord binding them, heart to heart.
Too much. Too much.
“Move,” she said, and it came out halfway between a command and a prayer. “But don’t be gentle. I don’t think I can bear it.”
He was, though. Gentle, patient, tender—and absolutely relentless, stroking in and out, touching her with curiosity and reverence and lust. He pushed her to orgasm after orgasm, and each one broke down her walls a little more, tearing apart all the cynicism and fear and awkwardness that she’d used to protect herself when she was alive and leaving behind only pleasure, and need, and the rose and silver cord throbbing to a rhythm all its own.
Even with her eyes closed, she saw they glowed as they fucked inside a nimbus of rose and scarlet and silver light.
Then a final orgasm claimed her, so strong that words and form deserted her and she flew apart. Dimly, in whatever far place she found herself, she heard Bill call her name.
Heard him say, “I love you.”
This time she believed it.
It took her a while to come back to herself, to find her wits and her voice wherever they had fled. The first thing she asked, when she could, was, “Bill, are you a witch?” It was the only thing she could think of that would explain the cords, the glow, the way she felt herself rebuilt under his hands.
Bill just laughed. “The Army tested us for magic and stuff. I was as normal as normy gets.”
“They were wrong. You’re magic. Definitely.”
He kissed her forehead. She felt it everywhere. “You never answered my question, pretty doctor. Will you be my Valentine?”
A dozen wise-ass remarks occurred to her, but she brushed them all side. Some of them she might use later—she hadn’t suddenly turned into a fuzzy-bunny kind of woman and Bill had fallen for her sharp tongue and all—but this wasn’t the time for smart-ass. Right now, there was only one answer she could give. “Yes, Bill. Yes.”
A shower of rose petals no one else could see fell around them.
Thank You!
Thank you for reading Happy Valentine’s Ghost. I hope you enjoyed it!
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Happy Valentine’s Ghost ties in to my Duals and Donovans: The Different paranormal romance series featuring sexy witches; the duals, a.k.a. shifters, who love them and fuel their magic; and the evil black-ops group known as the Agency. If you’d like to read an excerpt from Lions’ Pride (Duals and Donovans: The Different 1), please go to the next page.
Lion’s Pride (Duals and Donovans: The Different 1)
To save the one they love, they’re going in with spells blazing...
Elissa Donovan is a green witch—when she and her lion-shapeshifter husband have sex, the blazing heat is recycled to warm their house. Now her beloved Jude has been kidnapped by a shadowy government agency, and the last place she can turn for help is her high-powered family, who considers her magic mediocre.
When Rafe Benedict gets Elissa’s call for muscle to back up her magic, he risks his law enforcement career to answer. He’s spent a lifetime hiding his Dual ability, but something about Elissa and Jude’s magic awakens the cougar within him.
Tempting, bronzed Rafe is the perfect fuse for Elissa’s sex-fueled magic. Danger lies in breaking her vows; joining with anyone other than her true mate could not only send her marriage up in flames, it could burn out her powers in a last, all-or-nothing explosion. But Jude is worth the risk. And for Rafe, potential heartbreak is nothing next to the chance to help the two people he’s coming to love.
First, though, Rafe needs a crash course in Cougar...
Product Warnings
This title contains evil fae, guys with guns, shadowy government conspiracies, a snarky ghost, and smoking-hot, three-way sex.
Read a taste...
Rafe became acutely aware the man under him was naked and handsome and well-hung and smelled of sex and snow and feline.
They might be engaged in an all-out effort to hurt each other, but their dicks either didn’t know this or didn’t care. Despite his recent orgasm, Rafe was getting hard again, blood rushing to his cock, and damned if the dual wasn’t swelling against him.
Maybe if he just kissed the guy, he could take advantage of the resulting confusion, in one sense of the word or another.
Either it would work—though whether more like a porn film or a slapstick comedy he couldn’t say—or it would give the guy one more reason to beat the crap out of him.
Just as he was thinking that, he was flipped over, the strong, solid body pressing into him, controlling him utterly.
Pinned. Trapped.
The smell of man and woman and animal—pure sex and pure adrenaline—filled his nostrils. Unable to resist its lure, he took a deep breath.
A heady, fiery mix of desire and danger surged through him and he was electrified by the image of being bent over the table, fucked hard like the woman was earlier, while she watched, or helped...
Or maybe doing the same to the guy.
His body thought either sounded like a great idea.
When they were done, they could take turns making the pretty redhead scream.
The other man took advantage of his brief distraction to get his hands around Rafe’s throat.
“Stop!” the woman commanded, and it was a command, because the air shimmered around her and grew thick, and suddenly Rafe couldn’t move. Luckily, the other guy couldn’t either.
The woman stepped forward.
My God, she was beautiful. Almost miniature, but lovely, everything in perfect proportion. Her eyes were light honey brown, her fair skin dusted with adorable freckles, her red hair a curly cloud, her nipples pale rose and perky...
And she might be about to rip out his lungs, Rafe reminded himself hastily.
Instead, she placed one hand over his heart as he lay on the floor. He braced for the unknown-but-probably-bad.
Something shot through him. It didn’t hurt. It probed, rather like the twining energy earlier, but more intelligent and purposeful. Uncomfortable, yet almost friendly, like a nosy but well-intentioned neighbor.
Finally, it exited where it had entered. It had been a matter of seconds, but it felt more like hours, leaving his nerves raw and his brain flayed.
“Well?” The big man twitched, clearly waiting for the go-ahead to smack Rafe into next week.
Not that Rafe blamed him. If some stranger materialized in his house while he was enjoying post-coital bliss with a beautiful redhead, Rafe would have gone postal on him.
“Jude,” the woman said—no, once again commanded—“let him up.”
The man calle
d Jude obeyed with a sigh. Rafe rolled away and clambered to his feet with a muttered “thank you” the woman either didn’t hear or chose to ignore.
“What the hell is going on?” Rafe and the other man asked almost simultaneously. Under other circumstances, it might have been funny.
“I don’t understand,” the woman said slowly, her voice confused, incredulous, “but he belongs here. At least my magic thinks he does.”
Find buy links and series details on my website.
Other Books by Teresa Noelle Roberts
Red-hot paranormal romance with witches and shifters:
The Duals and Donovans: the Different series
Lions’ Pride
Foxes’ Den
Fox’s Folly
Cougar’s Courage
Witches’ Waves
Contemporary kink
The Lion of Frenchman Street
Drive
Out of Control
Knowing the Ropes
Christmas Stockings
Adventurously sexy science fiction romance:
The Chronicles of the Malcolm series
Thrill-Kinky
Bad Kitty
Buck, Naked
Triple Threat (forthcoming)
Fantasy romance with a kinky twist:
The Seasons of Sorania Cycle
Lady Sun Has Risen
Rain at Midsummer
Threshing the Grain
A Satyr for Midwinter
Dark, romantic fantasy
Blood and Lotuses
About the Author
Teresa Noelle Roberts started writing stories in kindergarten and she hasn’t stopped yet. A prolific author of short, mostly kinky, erotica, she’s also a published poet and fantasy writer—but hot paranormals, BDSM-spiced contemporary romances, and sexy science fiction romances are special favorites.
Teresa is a crunchy granola girl who enjoys belly dance, yoga, cooking, hiking, playing in the ocean, and growing more vegetables than she and her husband can possibly eat. She’d enjoy sleeping too. She thinks. But it takes so much time!
She shares her home in southern Massachusetts with her husband, a Leo in law enforcement, and three cats. She and her husband often plan vacations around food, history, and/or proximity to water.
www.teresanoelleroberts.com
Author Teresa Noelle Roberts
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