She was slick with wanting, and he glided into her easily. Their slow, explosive cries rang out in harmony as Donovan allowed himself to sink fully into her. Kira arched beneath him in a display of sheer animal ecstasy, her legs winding around his thrusting waist as their pelvises slapped together, again and again. His fever got the better of him, and Donovan didn't go slow; she didn't ask him to. She rode the fervent, bucking rhythm of his hips, and raised herself up each time to meet him. Nature, and their overpowering feelings for each other, took them over completely in the darkness of his bedroom, where nothing was forbidden between them any longer. He claimed her exactly as she requested, and she gave herself to him with his name and his alone moaned on her lips.
He would give Kira Bentley this much—she was certainly louder in the bedroom than she had ever been in class.
CHAPTER 19
It was quite a sight that greeted them when Professor Donovan drove her back to campus the next morning.
Kira was grinning like the cat that ate the canary and barely paying attention to their surroundings. Last night they had consummated their secret, and she was feeling good. They still didn't have a plan for how to track down the rogue werewolf, but it seemed certain that their adversary would rear his head sooner or later.
It turned out to be a lot sooner than either of them was expecting.
"What the hell?" Donovan's question roused Kira from her thoughts, and she craned her head to look out the passenger window. As they drove by her dormitory, she noticed two police vehicles parked near the entrance, and several uniformed officers wrestling a man out the front door. Shannon trailed behind them.
"Oh my God." Kira met Donovan's eyes, before fumbling for her seatbelt. Donovan threw the car into park and they both spilled out of the vehicle. Kira had just made it to Shannon's side when the struggling man's eyes locked onto her.
It was Dr. Kilman. Dr. Kilman of the English department. For a moment, his gaze flashed tawny yellow, and Kira was at last treated to a look at the wolf hiding within. She stood her ground, glaring him down as she wrapped an arm around Shannon's shoulders. Professor Donovan likewise wrapped an arm around hers.
"You were supposed to be mated to me!" Kilman exploded. "Why do you think I sired you in the first place?"
Kira cast a look at Donovan, and watched as his gray eyes widened incredulously at the revelation. She had been right—Donovan hadn't been the one to curse her.
"Ugh!" Shannon darted Kira a sympathetic and appropriately grossed-out look. It took the latter a moment to process just how creepy Dr. Kilman's comments would sound to the uninitiated. The police officer tasked with his arrest thrust the professor's head under the hood of his car, and Dr. Kilman vanished from sight. The back door of the cop car slammed closed on him.
"Can you believe it, Kira? I saw him hanging around our dorm room on my way back from breakfast, and I tried to call you… only when I called you, that creep pulled your cell phone out of his pocket!" Shannon pointed at the car and shuddered. Kira broke away from Donovan only long enough to squeeze her friend.
"Holy crap, Shannon, I don't think you know how much I owe you one," she said gravely.
"Ma'am, I believe these are yours." Another officer approached as Kira extracted herself from their hug. He held out a plastic evidence bag; inside, Kira could see her missing wallet and phone. "We're taking him down to the station now, but I'm going to need you to stay and answer a few questions."
Kira shot Donovan a look. "I guess I'm going to be late to English class again today, professor."
"No excuses, Bentley." Sawyer Donovan smiled broadly, and Kira could see all of the guilt that had been weighing on him for the entirety of their acquaintance was long gone. She smiled back in response, so full of elation that she couldn't even attempt to hide it. She was completely oblivious to anyone who might be observing their exchange.
"Detention?" she guessed over her shoulder as she was led away by the police officer. Sawyer Donovan watched her depart, hands retired affably in his pockets. She knew he would stay as long as she needed him to see this thing through.
"You got it," he said. "I'll look forward to seeing you again after class today. Kira."
EPILOGUE
FOUR YEARS LATER
"Wait up, professor!"
Sawyer Donovan paused in his stride, and turned to glance over his shoulder in feigned disinterest. Kira Bentley, his student teacher, loped towards him. Her rollicking blond hair was tied up in a ponytail, and it swept the back of her neck as she jogged; she wore dark, thick-framed glasses that only appeared to magnify her warm, gorgeous eyes, while serving the dual purpose limiting her vision to acceptable human levels. His former student looked older and wiser, and ten times lovelier than he could have ever believed. Despite seeing her daily basis, Donovan still sometimes felt like he was getting the wind knocked out of him for the first time.
Not that she needed to know that. Any endearments he conceived, he kept to himself, until he could tell them to her in the privacy of the woods or in the apartment they shared off-campus. Now, Professor Donovan shook out his shirt sleeve and glanced at the face of the watch she had given him for their first anniversary. They didn't have a date officially set for when they had started dating—as with most things, they counted in full moons.
"You're late," he observed. Kira stopped beside him, and stood a little too closely as she pretended to scrutinize the hands of his watch. When she dipped her head, he was treated to the perfume of her hair, and a low growl of desire rose in his throat. While their situation—that is to say, their forbidden relationship—had certainly changed since her graduation, having her for his student teacher had ushered in a new set of all-too-familiar problems. With Kilman gone, there was no one who knew the true nature of their relationship… although he thought that Shannon Drieling, Kira's former roommate, probably suspected. They both thought it best to continue to keep their secret under wraps, at least for now. Some days were more trying than others.
"If I'm late, what does that make you?" Kira's eyes flickered upward to fix him from beneath the frame of her glasses.
"Fashionably late," Donovan answered easily. They were outside his old classroom, the classroom they now shared. Donovan pulled the door open for her, and Kira offered him a poised, polite smile as she entered first.
It was the start of their first semester teaching together, and with the advent of the school year came a fresh batch of students. As Kira made her way to the table set up beside his desk, Donovan set his briefcase down and crossed to the board to write their names. Kira was already dividing a pile of syllabuses to pass around.
"Welcome to English One-oh-One," he stated. The greeting was automatic by this point. He looped his name in big, bold letters on the whiteboard. "I am Professor Donovan, and this is my sidekick, Miss Bentley." He knew without turning back around that Kira would pull a face at that. She hated being referred to as the 'sidekick' or 'assistant' in their duo, but he would continue to milk the terminology for as long as she taught beneath him. If she wanted to get even with him later, well… Donovan certainly wouldn't mind being the one occupying a position beneath her for a change.
"Would someone mind cracking a window?" He was certain it wasn't just the ferventness of his imagination that was making the room warm. One eager-eyed student toward the back complied, and quickly turned to work the window crank. A cool summer breeze blew in, fluttering Kira's papers, and carrying with it a familiar scent that froze them both momentarily to a spot.
Kira straightened, and Donovan's gaze snapped upward over the rim of his glasses. Sitting beside the eager student was a fellow freshman, a boy—or at least, Donovan assumed he was a boy. The second student had his hood drawn so far down that his face could hardly be seen, and was wearing a pair of dark sunglasses that succeeded in hiding the remainder of his features. He was slumped forward across his desk, as if hoping his poor posture would help him escape detection… but there was no escaping the wild musk that the breeze carr
ied with it, nor any of the other all-too-familiar symptoms.
Donovan looked at Kira.
Kira looked at Donovan.
"This semester is about to get a lot more interesting," he muttered below his breath.
The End
HAUNTED WHISPERS
STORY DESCRIPTION
Jim and Julie have known each other since she was his little sister’s third grade friend with skinned knees and braces, and he was an awkward teen ager.
Jim is now a handsome and brave member of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, and Julie is a gorgeous blonde who turns men’s heads. Every man, that is, but Jim, who still sees her as his little sister’s best friend.
If only Julie could get Jim to actually notice her, she’s certain he’d see what she does- that they’re meant for each other.
Veronique and Etienne know just what to do.
Passionately in love, both in life and after death, the ghosts are dedicated to helping others find their own true passion.
But, just as some spirits assist those on the earthly plane, others spread depravity, hatred and ruin.
When Julie is cast into a terrifying nightmare, will Jim finally admit his true feelings for the beautiful woman who has been right under his nose this whole time?
CHAPTER 1
The clang echoed through the entire camp. They all knew the sound and what it meant. Dick Harden had ruined his axe. Without it, he had no job.
Dick held the axe in his hands and stared at it stupidly. Half of the axe head was still attached to the handle. The other half lay by the log he'd been cutting. He looked hopelessly at the hidden rock inside the log. The rock must have slid down the slope and landed in the crook of the tree and stayed there. The tree grew around the rock and hid it.
Dick wasn’t a lumberman. That much was obvious. He’d been working for just a week for the Great Northern Logging Company and still wore city shoes, shirt and pants. He hadn’t filled out yet. His muscles weren’t up to the task of felling huge, old-growth pine trees. He had a good work ethic. His body would adapt if given enough time. He saw the foreman looking at him. The man was mean, a bully with no empathy. The foreman walked toward him.
The scene was half paradise and half sterile ruin. On one side, trees as tall as any building in Victoria worked together to make a forest that was fragrant and alive with animals of every size. The other side looked like the scar from a very bad burn. The trees were gone. The loggers tore up the dirt with their trucks, killing everything that was green. It was empty, lifeless and ugly.
He looked around him at the other men. He needed help and an axe. He didn’t see anyone with either to give him. Except Etienne. Etienne had two axes. He kept one beside him in case his first one failed.
Dick looked at Etienne’s eyes. His need was obvious to anyone within a hundred yards. Etienne shook his head.
The year was 1935 at the height of the Depression and jobs were as scarce. The logging camp sat on the west side of Vancouver Island. Logging was the only business open to Dick. There were men who owned fishing trawlers who hired other men to serve on the boats, but Dick couldn’t swim and got violently seasick. It was either logging or starvation.
The foreman fired Dick on the spot. The company didn’t buy axes for the lumberjacks. They had to have their own. If a man didn’t have an axe, he didn’t have a job.
Dick walked down the dusty dirt road headed towards Hatchet without hope.
Hatchet was Dodge City in the wilderness. Seven hundred people lived there in chaos. The citizens of Hatchet hadn't elected a sheriff or mayor yet. Most didn't stay in Hatchet for any longer than it took to buy a mule, a pan for finding gold and a few provisions.
CHAPTER 2
Etienne didn’t think about Dick. He shrugged. Bad luck happened to everyone. If it was your turn to be under a falling tree, that was the way it was. Sympathy didn’t change anything.
Etienne took up a lot of space. He stretched up to six feet five inches tall and out far enough to discourage bar fights. Anybody with a grudge or a temper looked at Etienne and walked away.
After work, he caught a ride into Hatchet and found Dusty’s Saloon. He wore the same clothes he worked in; rough shirt, heavy pants and lumberjack boots. He took a seat at one of the tables scattered around Dusty’s and watched the stage.
The curtain rose and a line of dancers flowed in. The girls lifted their skirts high and kicked their legs. They whooped and hollered and the men whooped and hollered.
Etienne watched for a minute and noticed his vision had narrowed to the fourth girl from the left at the exclusion of everyone else. His soul concentrated as well. He made a decision. When Etienne made a decision, it took dynamite to change it.
Etienne had a reputation. He wasn’t mean, but he got what he wanted. The fourth girl from the left had everything Etienne thought he would ever need. She had intelligent eyes and a pleasant smile. He noticed the curve of her legs, the slope of her breasts and her thin waist.
He stood up, walked slowly but with purpose across the room and up on the stage. The girls stopped dancing to watch him. Everybody in the saloon watched him. He didn’t notice. Without a word, he threw the fourth girl from the left over his shoulder and walked off the stage.
He didn’t know it, but the girl noticed him thirty seconds before he saw her. She liked his great, rough face. It looked like it had been cut out of a heavy log with only the biggest tools. His broad shoulders and heavy arms made her heart tingle. They looked sturdy and safe to her. Ten seconds after she saw him, she decided she was going to marry him and give him babies.
When he walked onto the stage, she stepped forward while the other girls retreated. She placed herself in front of him and smiled.
She happily found herself on his shoulder with her skirt falling down her back. He patted her rump and grunted. She waved at her friends in the dancing troupe and said, “I am being carried off by a big mans with many muscles. Au revoir, mes ami, au revoir.”
Veronique Despain was twenty-four, with lustrous hair the color of a sunset and blue eyes. She had a voluptuous, curvy figure. She had to. Dance troupes don’t hire skinny girls to dance in front of burly, frontier men.
Etienne climbed the stairs and found an empty room. He dropped Veronique on the floor on her feet and reached for the buttons on her costume. He stopped when her soft hands landed on his. She didn’t try to keep his hands still. She simply touched him, and he stopped moving. She said, “Just a short moment, my huge friend. You can have me, but I want some information before you do. What is your names?”
Etienne’s voice carried wonder and surprise. Nobody’d ever stopped him from taking what he wanted before. This little girl did it just by touching him. He said, “Etienne Beauregard.”
“That is a fine name.” She let go of his hands and ran her hands up and down his arms and across his chest. “You are very big. I like that. The big mans gets to me every time. I am Veronique Despain.”
She made him look into her eyes. She studied his with intensity. She said, “Yes. I see it. We have the future, my man of many muscles. You and me.” She found a stool in the corner of the room and stood on it in front of Etienne.
She grabbed his hands and planted them on her breasts. She held both of them against her with one hand and stroked his cheek with the other. “You must listen to me. Your life isn’t yours any more. It’s ours. Trust me. You won't mind. Not even a little bit. I will give you much more than I take.”
Etienne’s eyes narrowed. Veronique saw it and pulled the hand that had been caressing his cheek back to rest on his hand. She held both of his hands on her breasts. Neither moved. She said, “Look at me, my fine strong man. Look into my eyes.”
Etienne didn’t have a choice. He stared at her eyes with intense concentration.
She moved his hands, and her breasts underneath, around her chest. She squeezed his hands, and he squeezed her lovely mounds in turn. She said, “Feel me. Feel my breasts. They are yours and
yours alone. No other mans will touch me. Ever. Just you. Do you understand that which I say?”
She left his hands on their own and held his cheeks with both of hers. “Answer me, my dear. I am telling you the future. We are together forever, you and I, but you have to say ‘yes’.”
He didn’t talk. She saw comprehension in his eyes, but his mouth didn’t move. She pushed his hands away from her body and held them in the air. “Don’t do the movements for a minute.” She shook a finger at his hands. "Stay." She paused to make sure his hands obeyed. "Good boys."
She quickly undid the top of her costume and let it drop to her waist. Etienne studied her bare breasts as if they were a map to true happiness. She let him look for a long time then brought his hands back to her, now bare, breasts. He molded his hands onto her body.
He moved his hands gently, allowing his rough palms to slide across her soft mounds. She felt his calluses catch and pull at her tender skin. She smiled. “That is good. Do that more.”
After a few minutes, Etienne looked like a man who’s been struck between the eyes with a heavy board.
Veronique brought his head up to look at her eyes. “Can you hear me, my big, burly fellow? Look at my eyes, again.” She waited until they were both in the same universe. “I will give myself to you now, but you must agree to have me as your woman all of your lives. I am to be your only woman. Do you understand?”
He nodded.
“I will ask you again tomorrow when you aren’t insane with the need for my lovings. If you say ‘yes’ again, we are together forever.” She pushed his hands away again and slipped out of her skirt and frilly panties. She said, “Take your clothes off too. I won’t be the only one naked.”
Bears of Burden: THORN Page 49
