Otherworldly [McKnight, Perth & Daire 1] (Siren Publishing Allure)

by Beth D. Carter

  Ignoring the burn in his injured shoulder, he used his good hand and body to roll her only to her back. Her eyes looked up at him in the moonlight-infused room, and he could read the desire on her face like a neon sign.

  Fuck! She was so beautiful.

  “I want you,” she whispered, and there was a raw intensity in her voice he’d never heard before. “Now. Right now.”

  She reached down and began wiggling her hips. It took him a moment to realize she was trying to get her panties off. He wasn’t much help with his bandaged arm, so he eased back enough so she could get the job done. To his surprise she pulled his pajama pants down as well, not off him completely but enough to allow his now throbbing cock to burst free.

  Immediately, she began pumping the shaft, her deft little hands working him like he was a fucking cow giving milk. Sweat popped out over his forehead, some from the strain of having his bad arm at an awkward angle, but mostly because he was going up in flames.

  “I need a condom,” he grated through clenched teeth. “I want to bury my cock into that tight little pussy so bad I’m about ready to self-combust.”

  She gave a breathy moan, and her hand left him. He felt her stretching toward the nightstand and a second later heard the tear of a foil pack. She rolled the condom on and then placed her hands on his chest.

  “Fuck me,” she ordered.

  “Are you ready for me? Are you nice and wet?”

  His answer was a frantic head nod, and he took that as a good sign because there was no way in hell he could hold back. Something hot and heavy gripped him, singing through his blood, and turned his brain to mush. Maybe it was the thought that she was leaving him or the fact that just a couple of days ago she stood on the other end of a barrel. Whatever this need was that revved him up, he let it guide him as he sunk into her snug channel.

  “Fuck!” he groaned, panting. His instinct took over, his hips pumping into her with long, steady strokes.

  “Please, Jonas. More. Harder. I want it harder!”

  Her plea drove him wild, and he gave her exactly what she wanted, what he wanted. Her cries of pleasure encouraged him to thrust harder, deeper. Her hot little cunt was sucking him in, and he was fast losing control.

  “Oh god, Charlotte,” he grunted.

  “Yes!” she cried. “Oh yes, yes!”

  She was so hot, so slick. He wanted to bury himself so deeply inside her that she wouldn’t want to walk away from him. He couldn’t fucking lose her, couldn’t let her vanish from his life.

  “Holy fuck, baby!”

  The frenzied need for release wiped out all coherent thought. A second later, he felt her pussy spasm around his cock. Mewling sounds of pleasure poured over him, pushing him over the line as he came hard, hot, and endless.

  * * * *

  Charlotte blinked rapidly to disperse the tears in her eyes as she packed her suitcase. The time had come to leave Alecia Falls, Washington, but she had a sneaking feeling that a big part of her heart would be remaining. Last night played through her mind like a broken record. She couldn’t seem to erase the memory of him losing control with her. It had been so passionate, so wonderful.

  Do I love Jonas?

  Maybe. Could someone fall in love in a matter of a week? Had she more time to explore the relationship, Charlotte felt like she would and could answer yes to that question. But they’d been thrust into unusual and dangerous circumstances, so could she trust any emotions right now?

  And yet the voice of her subconscious screamed at her that Jonas was a man she shouldn’t give up. He had more than proved he was trustworthy, honorable, sexy as hell, and someone who made her laugh, who seemed to be able to deal with the craziness of her clairvoyant lifestyle.

  Maybe she’d come back to Alecia Falls. Maybe she could rent a house so she and Jonas could date. Charlotte liked that idea. She could get used to living by water again. She could get used to tasting the wet, salty sea air. She’d moved to Santa Fe because it was in the middle of a desert, not for any emotional tie. She’d see if Jonas was up to keeping in touch long distance.

  Her phone rang, so she dug it out of her pocket and saw her sister’s name on the screen. She hit talk and held it to her ear.

  “You fly out today?”

  “Hello, Holly. Long time no hear from.”

  “Har har. How are you doing?”

  “Great. I caught a killer, you know. I saved the girl.”

  “So I heard. Next time I see you, we’re going to have to chat on the definition of noninvolvement. Now, are you flying home today?”

  Charlotte sighed. “Yes. I had to stay for the funeral, but I really want to get home. My flight leaves in a little less than five hours. Happy?”

  “Overjoyed,” Holly stated. “Because I have another job for you.”

  “So soon?”

  “You can turn it down, but I think it’s a case that needs you.”

  “I don’t know, Holly. This one really wiped me out,” she said with a sigh. She wanted to say no, but the thought that someone needed her changed her mind. “What is it?”

  She heard some pages moving. “Three young women have gone missing in rural Missouri, in that area that sticks down like a shoe heel. The case has basically stalled, so several family members of the victims have pooled their money together to hire two psychics, you being one, in the hope that they can find the bodies and jump-start the case again.”

  “These girls aren’t runaways?”

  “According to police, yes. According to the families, no. Are you in?”

  Charlotte thought for a second. “Who is the other psychic they hired?”

  “A woman by the name of Melody St. Cloud.”

  “Really?” Charlotte asked. “Wow.”

  “You know her?”

  “I know of her. She’s one of the best. Authentic. Okay. Count me in.”

  “All right. I’ll send out the contract via e-mail. Electronically sign it and e-mail it back.”

  “I know the drill,” Charlotte reminded her.

  “I know you know. But I’m a lawyer.”

  “And you smell funny.”

  There was dead silence on the other end. Charlotte swallowed back a snicker.

  “Have a nice flight, Charlotte,” Holly said right before she clicked off the line.

  Charlotte pocketed her phone and then zipped her suitcase, taking one last look around the room to see if she forgot anything. She’d made the bed and had even tidied up the bathroom. She was going to miss Jonas’s house.

  He waited downstairs in the kitchen. His right arm was in a sling. His bandaged shoulder looked like a field of cotton had exploded over it. His shirt had been cut to accommodate his wound. A grimace of pain flashed over his face as he moved to grab his coffee cup with his left hand.

  “Your arm hurt?”

  He looked up at her with calm looking eyes. She didn’t want to admit that it irked her that he didn’t look as upset as she felt.

  “A little. Last night was worth it.”

  She had to grin a little at that. Yes, last night had been worth a lot of things. She wished she could drag him back upstairs and do it all over again. Instead, she sat her suitcase near the door before heading toward him. He sat his half-filled cup back onto the counter.

  “You heading out?”

  “Yeah,” she said, trying hard to keep it nonchalant. “I gotta catch the ferry back to the mainland in time to make it to Sea-Tac.”

  He walked over to her and drew her carefully toward him with his one good arm. She hugged him back, and they stayed that way for a long time. Charlotte didn’t want to let him go, and she had a feeling he didn’t want to, either. There was so much she wanted to say, to tell him, and yet the carefully rehearsed speech she had thought about fled out of her head.

  “Would you, ah, like to stay in contact?” she finally asked, her voice slightly muffled since being pressed against his shoulder.

  He didn’t say anything for a few minutes, and she thought
her heart was going to stutter out of her chest waiting for his reply.

  Finally she felt him nod.

  “Yeah,” he replied. “I would like that.”

  An enormous weight seemed lifted off her shoulders. She leaned back to look at him, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

  “I’m glad.”

  And then all too soon, she had to move from his arms even though all she wanted to do was go back into them.

  “You have to leave now?” he asked.

  She nodded and took a deep breath.

  “Well, you be careful, okay?”

  She nodded again.

  “You have my number.”

  She gave him two thumbs up because she didn’t trust her voice not to crack. And then she turned, grabbed her suitcase, her purse, and her book bag that contained her tablet, and headed out the door. She didn’t look back. She couldn’t or she’d break down. And the entire time she backed out of the driveway she concentrated on her driving until it came time to shift her car into drive. And then she looked at him.

  He stood in the doorway watching her, one hand raised in farewell. Seeing him, knowing she was leaving him, her cool facade all tumbled down, and she started to cry. She waved at him and pressed on the gas.

  * * * *

  Sea-Tac Airport was like any other, except she’d had to cross a lot of water to get there and she felt slightly queasy in her stomach. After she’d checked in and gotten her boarding pass, she made her way through security, glad the lines weren’t that long, and then immediately made her way to grab some food to help settle her system.

  After she ate, she took her time to get to her gate and sat in a seat. She took out her tablet to browse the internet, waiting.

  “Passenger Charlotte Perth, please come to the front,” the announcer over the speakers said.

  Stashing her tablet back in her book bag, she rose and walked up to the desk.

  “Hello, I’m Charlotte Perth,” she introduced herself.

  “Hi, Ms. Perth,” the bubbly attendant greeted with a smile. “There’s been a slight problem with overbooking in coach, so if you don’t mind, we’re going to bump you up to first class free of charge. Is that all right with you?”

  Charlotte blinked. “Are you kidding? Of course!”

  “Great!” the attendant said. “We’ll be boarding very shortly.

  Charlotte’s ticket was exchanged, and she sat back down feeling like she won the lottery. It almost made her forget about Jonas.

  Almost.

  Boarding began, and after the attendant had called for women with little children, military personal, and people with disability to board first, she called first class. Charlotte zoomed through the line and walked down the tunnel to the plane. The steward greeted her, and she murmured her thanks. When she turned to find her seat, the first thing she noticed was the man sitting next to her seat. Jonas smiled at her then patted the cushion next to his.

  Her heart tripped over itself trying to race double time. She gave a little squeal and hurried over. She wanted to hug him, but his bandaged arm in the sling prevented her from throwing herself on top of him.

  “What are you doing here?” she demanded happily.

  “I got six weeks sick leave, and I thought to myself, Self, where would you like to go on vacation? And the first place that popped into my mind was Santa Fe.”

  “Really? There are some great places to see in Santa Fe, you know. The opera house, the Museum of International Folk Art, St. Francis Cathedral—”

  “Actually, I was only interested in seeing one attraction. And that’s you.”

  Charlotte thought she’d pass out from the romanticism of it all. “And me getting bumped up to first class?”

  He grinned a little sheepishly. “I am part of the wealthy Braddock-Masters clan, you know. Plus, I’m a famous cop now since I got shot in the line of duty while defending a pregnant woman and some crazy girl from a psycho.”

  “Crazy girl, eh? Oh, you have no idea,” she warned.

  He laughed. “Come here,” he ordered and turned his body so his good hand could tug on her elbow. He pulled her in as close as he could maneuver them and then placed his lips over hers, kissing her until her head swam from lack of oxygen.

  “Oh my,” she whispered.

  THE END

  WWW.BETHDCARTER.COM

  WWW.BETHDCARTER.BLOGSPOT.COM

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  I am a full-time writer and stay-at-home mom, which means I watch a lot of animated movies. Over and over again. I hate washing dishes, but I love cooking. I hate washing clothes, but I love wearing them. I try to write characters who aren't cookie cutters, ones who are full of angst but where love redeems them. I push myself to write complicated situations that I have no idea how to resolve, forcing me to think outside the box. Music inspires me and each story their own signature song. I hate people who don't pick up their dog's crap in public places, and I really hate people who are rude and condescending. I especially hate discrimination in all and every form. The perfect place on earth is sitting in a bookstore. I love to hear from readers. I’m really easy to find on Facebook or Twitter or e-mail me at: beth@bethdcarter.com.

  For all titles by Beth D. Carter, please visit

  www.bookstrand.com/beth-d-carter

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com