by Gina Lamm
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
One Night to Fly
Copyright © 2011 by Gina Lamm
ISBN: 978-1-61333-134-7
Cover art by Dara England
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work, in whole or in part, in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.
Published by Decadent Publishing Company, LLC
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One Night to Fly
Gina Lamm
A 1 Night Stand Story
~DEDICATION~
To Scotty, my hero.
I love you
Chapter One
She’d give him three more minutes. If he didn’t show after that, she was so out of there. Ginger flicked the clasp of her watch open and shut, the repetitive motion doing nothing to soothe her frayed nerves. She hadn’t wanted to do this anyway. When she received the odd email from a Madame Evangeline, she’d thought it was spam, or from a computer hacker. She hadn’t expected Amy to actually sign her up for an online dating service. Serves me right for leaving my passwords on a post-it.
She scanned the coffeehouse from her seat beside the window. A group of college kids were laughing at a large table, and an older woman was reading a romance novel in the corner nook. The bell above the door tinkled as another person entered, but it was an elderly gentleman and his wife. Her supposed date was nowhere to be seen.
She slumped back in her chair, shoving her mane of dark hair over her shoulder. Pulling her cell phone from her purse, she re-read the last email for the thousandth time.
Miss Thistlewaite,
Your date will meet you at the Creek Street Coffeehouse at 9:00 p.m. on Friday, June 24th. You will know him when you see him.
Cordially, Madame Evangeline
PS Relax. Live a little.
She rolled her eyes and pressed the button atop her phone, darkening the touch screen. Please. She didn’t need to relax. She was perfectly happy with her job, her apartment, and, well, that was it. Other than Amy, her happy-go-lucky co-worker, she didn’t have any friends. Her adoptive family hadn’t been close, and she’d moved states away after college. Her life consisted of getting up early in the morning, heading into the office, working until dark on insurance policies and claims, and falling exhausted into bed alone. Things were simple. Uncomplicated. Just how she liked them. Weren’t they?
Sixty seconds left. The sky was completely dark outside the plate glass windows now, the summer sun having lost its fight against the horizon. She smoothed the linen pants she’d pressed for the occasion. Amy had promised the dating site was legitimate.
“Madame Evangeline is the best,” she’d wheedled when Ginger cited the failure rate of dating services as a perfect excuse to refuse. “She’s got a real knack for this. Come on. What’s one date going to hurt?”
It hurts my pride. Ginger sneered at her reflection in the window. Stood up when she hadn’t even wanted the date in the first place. She simply wasn’t into regular guys. Girls either, for that matter. She was a loner, a hermit, a….
“What’s the funny face for?”
A squawk of surprise flew from her mouth, and she whirled to locate the deep voice. He sat across from her, leaning forward, his tanned arms folded on the tabletop. Tousled blond hair curled around his open collar, and a simple leather cord circled his lean throat. His piercing blue eyes seemed to penetrate her, leaving no secrets unknown. He looked like a surfer, but sounded like a Scotsman with a slight burr.
“Where did you come from?” Her fingers splayed across her chest in a vain attempt to keep her thundering heart from escaping.
He smiled with his lips closed and tilted his head slightly. “My mother said she found me under a cabbage leaf, but I never really bought that story.”
“Ha, ha.” She narrowed her eyes. “Nice to meet you, but I was just leaving.” She scraped her chair back and shouldered her purse. If he was her date, then Madame Evangeline was even more clueless than she’d imagined. Tardy and a smart-ass? No thanks. Pivoting smartly on her heel, she headed for the exit.
“Right you are.” He bounded to his feet and opened the coffee shop door for her quicker than she could protest. “Let’s be off then.”
Stunned, she found herself guided through the door by a strong arm around her waist. Her brain couldn’t process things that fast. She dug her heels into the concrete, stopping them.
“Wait. Just wait a minute.” She pulled away from his arm and turned to him, the moon’s soft glow caressing the strong lines of his face. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“Aye, but you are.” He smiled again, not showing a glimpse of teeth. A dimple winked in his right cheek. “You agreed to go out, same as me.”
“I don't even know your name. And you were late.” She tapped the glass of her watch face, unable to hide her irritation at his easygoing manner.
“By sixty seconds,” he agreed then swept into a courtly bow. “Do forgive me, milady, and spare me the pain of your displeasure. I am Baird Kirkland.” He stayed there, head bowed toward the ground, the white cotton shirt smooth over the defined muscles of his back.
Fuming, she stomped in the opposite direction.
“Wait,” he called, and she gritted her teeth at the sound of footsteps catching up to her. “Don’t go.”
She didn’t turn, just kept walking. “Why shouldn’t I? Give me one good reason.”
“Because I can give you what you’ve wanted. Haven’t you dreamed about it? The moonlight, soaring under the stars? I can do that for you.”
Her feet were suddenly glued to the pavement. She slammed her eyes shut, willing the instant longing to disappear. No one knew about the dreams she'd had since she was a girl. She’d never told a soul about the recurring visions of black-feathered wings stirring in the moonlight. How does this stranger know about my secret wishes?
He circled around, stopping in front of her. His breath tickled her ear. “I can free the part of you that's called for release for years. No one else can do that.”
“Why would you?” she whispered without opening her eyes.
“Because I'm the same as you.” He brushed her lips with his, igniting a fire deep within her belly. “No matter how you refuse, you know the truth.”
“It's impossible.” She couldn't stop her head from tilting back, exposing the length of her neck to him.
“There is no denying it.”
She gasped and dug her hands into the muscles of his back as his warm lips attacked her throat. His tongue ran along the length of it, caressing the delicate skin. What’s happening to me? When his teeth grazed her collarbone and his fingers slid under the strap of her tank top, she yanked out of his grasp, stumbling on an uneven seam in the walk.
Righting herself, she glared at him. “Enough. I don't know you, and you don't know me.” She turned once more to walk away.
“Ah, Christ. The hard way it is, then.”
The sound o
f ripping fabric stopped her, and she whirled just in time to see a flurry of black feathers burst into view. A wiry arm wrapped around her waist and yanked her skyward.
Baird enjoyed the feel of her curves struggling against him as he rose into the sky. His wings beat strongly against the cool air as he climbed higher into the night. The buzz of traffic and humanity faded into nothingness far below. Her curses grew louder and more violent with every stroke of his wings.
“Neanderthal! You can't just take women wherever you want them! This is illegal and I'm going to sue! Put me down, you jackass!”
“All right then.”
He smiled at her bloodcurdling scream as she tumbled from his arms. After only a second, he dove down and scooped her back up against his chest.
“Are you going to stop calling me names now, lass?”
Eyes wide with fear, she nodded. Her fingers curled into his shirt, and she relaxed against him, trusting him to keep her safe. His arms tightened around her, his body responding to the closeness of a female of his own species.
Human women, while plentiful, simply could not satisfy the urges within him. He marked time with them, but not for any real relationship. He'd scoffed at the idea of using a dating service, sure they wouldn’t find a Daemon female. Madame Evangeline assured him he'd be satisfied with 1Night Stand’s services. His eyebrows rose at what he considered an exorbitant fee, but he’d paid it nonetheless. The burning ache in his loins demanded the release only another of his kind could give him, and if Madame Evangeline could introduce them, he'd be able to take it from there. And now, he held the female Daemon in his arms as he flew toward the private suite he'd been promised, at an exclusive resort high atop the Blue Ridge Mountains.
As if realizing the precariousness of her position, Ginger ceased railing at him for the rest of the short flight. He looked down at her, marveling at the way the moonlight shone against her dark hair. Her sooty lashes rested against her cheek as she pressed it against his chest, clinging to him as though her life depended on it. Silly girl. As if he would let any harm come to her. He'd not seen another Daemon female in a century or more. He was not apt to let her go so quickly.
The resort came into view; its tall buildings nestled within the lush green of the mountain landscape. He descended onto the balcony of the penthouse suite, the sliding glass doors open to the balmy night air. Striding past the filmy white curtains, he set her down gently on the chaise lounge then pried her manicured fingernails from his shirt, smiling when her eyes flew open.
“Hello again.”
“You son of a bitch,” she spat, looking for all the world like a wet hen, feathers ruffled and ready for battle. “Where the hell did you drag me off to?”
He threw back his head and laughed. His deep voice echoed off the vaulted ceiling of the suite.
“What's so funny?” Her glare shot daggers at him.
“You,” he said, wiping tears of mirth away. “You're so sure that you're a normal human being, and yet when a Daemon drags you off for a moonlit flight, you don't wonder about it a bit.”
Her eyes widened. “What did you call yourself?”
“An’ you heard me.”
Chapter Two
Ginger couldn't believe her ears. A Daemon? Baird stood, smiling at her, his form shadowed by massive folded black wings. Wings. Just like she had in her dreams. They'd flown together, exactly the way she did in her dreams every night. The only thing he hadn't done to mimic her nighttime memories was wrap her in the glossy dark feathers as he claimed her.
Her body betrayed her, the pit of her belly curling at the thought of him covering her that way. The buttons of his shirt had pulled opened during the flight, revealing a muscled chest as well as lean throat. His broad shoulders tapered to slim hips. As if in response to her scrutiny, the front of his slacks tented.
“You know what I mean.” His burr deepened, his brilliant eyes darkening at her perusal. “I told you. I alone can make those dreams come true.”
Her tongue darted out to wet her lips. She sat on the chaise, immobilized by the blue of his eyes. He came toward her, prowling like a predator about to strike. The hypnotic roll of his hips mesmerized her, overturning her normally logical brain. Reason flew out the window as he pressed a knee into the seat beside her, straddling her lap. His wings extended, wrapping around her, leaving them in the tight cocoon of darkness.
“Ah, Ginger.” The R of her name rolled off of his tongue.
She shut her lids against the magnetic pull of his gaze. “What are you doing to me?” she whispered.
“Giving you what you want.” His mouth dived down to claim hers.
The tide of feeling swept her away, and she sat helpless against the onslaught of his kiss His tongue traced the line of her lips, coaxing, cajoling, and she parted them with only a slight hesitation. He groaned deep in his chest as he probed her mouth. He tasted the line of her teeth, then stroked her tongue with his, feeding the growing fire within her.
She lay back into the suede softness of the chaise as he covered her. Her hands crept around his back, sliding underneath his ripped shirt to find the bases of the massive wings. She stroked the gleaming feathers and her legs wrapped around his waist. Powerless against the feelings swamping her, she matched the forays of his tongue with tentative strokes.
Their lips danced together, mating deeply while a swirling heat burned in her breasts and the juncture of her thighs. This has never happened to me before. No one had ever caused such arousal in her. His hips pressed into her, bringing his hardness in direct contact with her core. Awareness sparked in her brain, and she shoved him away with a cry.
He released her instantly, rising on his knees as worry darkened his strong features. “What's wrong?”
“It's all too much.” She tried to calm the maelstrom of sensations overwhelming her. “You, this, the dreams, the feelings, it's more than I can handle.”
He shoved both hands into his messy blond hair, holding his head and closing his eyes. “That's because it's right. It's more right than anything you've felt before.”
“This isn't me.” She stood and paced along the length of the chaise. “I'm not the kind of girl who falls into bed with complete strangers. I have a very ordered, organized life, and I like it that way. I'm not looking for a guy, or a hook-up, or a one-night stand. I am very happy with my job, and my apartment, and....”
He barked a laugh and leaned back against the single arm of the chaise. “Is that why you signed up for a dating service called 1Night Stand?”
She rounded on him, her jaw slack with surprise. “What?”
“The dating service that set us up tonight. It's 1Night Stand. Or does your precious ‘ordered, organized life’ not include the names of businesses you patronize?”
Her hands curled into claws and she frowned in anger. “Amy.”
“What?”
“My co-worker. She hacked into my e-mail and set me up for this. I am so going to kill her.”
He lost his grin and sat forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “You didn't ask for this date? You didn't want to be set up with me?”
A vehement “no” sprang to her lips, but she stifled it when she looked at him. Really looked at him.
His body was magnificent, the pressed cotton of his intact shirt sleeves molding to the muscles of his arms. He had a gorgeous face, all hard angles and clean lines. But his eyes—his eyes were what gave her pause. They were beautiful and strong, but the glimmer of hope wavering in them was more than she could deny.
She closed her own eyes and chose her words carefully. “Not at first. I'm sorry. Can we start again?”
When she let her lids flutter open, she found he’d risen to his feet.
“My apologies.” His dimple disappeared in the seriousness of his expression. “I'll take you back immediately.”
“No, wait. I want to do this the right way. You signed up for a date, and I agreed, so that's what we're going to do.” She stuck her hand out t
o him. “I'm Ginger Thistlewaite. I'm a claims adjuster for Keats Insurance. I like Chinese food, horror movies, and Top 40.”
She stood for a moment, her hand hanging in the air alone, and wondered what the hell she’d been thinking.
Baird looked at her. Really looked at her.
Her linen pants, though wrinkled from the way he'd carried her, molded to her generous hips like a second skin. Her patterned tank hugged her curves, making him ache to know them better. But her eyes—her ocean-deep eyes held within them calm, and just a tinge of hidden longing. He couldn't refuse her. His large hand enveloped hers for a decisive shake.
“Pleased to meet you, Ginger. I'm Baird Kirkland. I'm a Daemon male who spends his days hunting lawbreakers of the Daemon world. I’m sort of a bounty hunter, if you will. I enjoy Thai food, romantic comedies, and Indie rock. And also meeting curvaceous, brunette claims adjusters.” He winked at her, hoping she'd continue the game.
She smiled at him then, nearly striking him dumb. Her features, set in a heart-shaped face, went from merely beautiful to stunning with the change of expression. “Thank you.”
He gestured to the chaise again, and she settled on it, patting the cushion next to her. He joined her without a second's hesitation.
“So, what made you want to use a dating service?” She smoothed the wrinkles in her pants nervously.
Oy. She'd have to ask that question, wouldn't she? Well, no hope for it.
“I've not been as lucky in locating females of my own species as I'd hoped. We're a dying breed, as it were. Madame Evangeline assured me she could put me in contact with a Daemon female. As it happens, she was right.”
She swallowed hard, her delicate throat working. “That was what you meant, wasn't it? About the dreams? I'm a...Daemon, too?”
