A Deal with Death

by Carrie Pulkinen

“Your turn.” He motioned with his hands toward her shirt. Whatever game she had planned, he’d be happy to play as long as they both ended up naked in the end.

  With a sly grin, she tugged her shirt off and dropped it on the counter. “My entire life has been a practice in self-control. While I fully intend to fulfill my promise to Baron Samedi and live in his image, giving up my old ways isn’t going to be easy.”

  He stepped toward her, but she put up a hand to stop him, and he froze. “I can help you with that.”

  “I don’t think I need to completely give up my control issues, though.” Her grin widened. “Self-control can be quite erotic.”

  He chuckled. “How so?”

  “Put your hands behind your back.” She unclasped her bra and let it fall to the floor. “No touching.”

  Though his fingers twitched with the need to feel her supple breasts, he did as he was told. She slinked toward him, stopping a scant inch away, so close her breath warmed his neck as she moved her lips along his skin, not touching, but leaving a trail of fire in her wake.

  She stepped away, the intensity of the moment pulling his breath out in a rush. His skin turned to gooseflesh, and a shiver ran up his spine. “What kind of magic are you using on me?”

  “None at all, love. This is the power of desire.” Unbuttoning her pants, she worked them over her hips and slipped them off her ankles, a thin strip of black satin the only thing left covering her.

  His heart thrummed, and he reached for her, but she raised her hands again. “I said no touching. Not yet. Take off your pants.”

  “Your self-control is admirable, but mine is lacking. I’m not sure how much more of this I can take.” He toed off his shoes and removed his pants, kicking them aside.

  She arched a brow. “You’ll take however much I want to give you.”

  A growl rolled up from his chest. Damn, this woman was hot. He’d never been keen on taking orders from anyone but the alpha, but Odette had him wrapped around her finger. He’d move the Earth for this woman.

  He took an involuntary step toward her, and she laughed. “Control yourself. Let the anticipation build, and the release will be that much sweeter.”

  Straightening, he fisted his hands at his sides to stop them from reaching for her again. If she kept this up, he’d be releasing in his boxer-briefs.

  “Take off your underwear.” She shimmied hers down her legs and stepped out of them, standing before him magnificently naked, her warm, soft skin beckoning him.

  With a shuddering inhale, he removed the rest of his clothes, his dick springing free from its constraints. Her gaze locked on his cock, and she slipped the tip of her tongue out to moisten her lips.

  That tiny flash of pink nearly crumbled him. His dick ached to fill her. His hands twitched to feel her. If any more blood rushed from his head to his groin, he’d pass out. He ground his teeth, forcing his growl into words. “I need you, Odette.”

  “I need you too, James.” She closed the distance between them, her tight nipples almost brushing his chest as she hovered her mouth near his, still not touching, building the heat between them. “So bad.”

  Good God, he wanted to touch her. To bend her over the counter and sink his cock deep inside her. This little game of control had him hotter than hellfire, his core trembling with a need like nothing he’d felt before.

  She hovered her lips above his skin, trailing down his neck, his chest, his stomach, her breath the only thing touching him. It was a painfully wonderful, erotic sensation, and as a bead of moisture gathered on the end of his cock, she paused and licked her lips.

  “I’d like to taste.” She glanced up at him with fire in her eyes. “Do you want me to taste it?”

  He fought to find his voice. “Yes. God, yes. Please.” He was breathless, and the woman hadn’t even touched him yet.

  She flicked out her tongue, licking his tip, the warm velvet sensation sending a shudder through his body. He held his breath, waiting for more, but she straightened, moving so close his dick rested against her stomach.

  The sensation of her soft skin against his tightened his balls, and searing electricity shot through his veins. His hands trembled, so he clenched them into fists behind his back. Raw, primal need churned in his core, and his wolf howled in his head, begging him to take her.

  “You’re doing very well.” Her lips tickled his ear. “Are you thoroughly turned on yet?”

  “I’m a Roman candle with a very short fuse, sweetheart.” Every nerve in his body was firing on overdrive. The heat from her skin against his felt as good as anything she could have done with her hands. Well, not quite as good, but pretty damn close.

  She smiled. “So I’ve proved my point?”

  “Clear as day.”

  She finally touched him. Her fingertips glided across his shoulders and down his arms like liquid fire. “All right, James. Make me scream.”

  He didn’t give her a chance to change her mind. Pouncing like a predator, he wrapped her in a tight embrace and planted his mouth on hers. Her lips parted on a gasp as he gripped her ass and lifted her from the ground, setting her on the countertop.

  She parted her legs, and he dove to her center, lapping at her clit and reveling in the sweet taste of her as she tangled her fingers in his hair. Sucking her sensitive nub into his mouth, he slid two fingers inside. Her wet warmth clenched around them, her lustful moan melting in his ears like salted chocolate.

  The taste of her on his tongue made him shiver. He wanted to savor her. To take his time pleasuring her, but she’d awakened a passion inside him that he couldn’t hold back any longer. They had the rest of their lives for savoring each other. Right now, he needed to be inside her.

  Sliding her from the counter, he gently pushed her against the wall, covering her body with his, their magic entwining so he couldn’t tell where hers ended and his began.

  Mine. Possessiveness clenched in his chest, his wolf reminding him of his claim.

  Grabbing her thigh, he lifted her leg to his hip and pressed against her opening. She gripped the back of his neck and held his gaze with fiery passion in her eyes. In one swift thrust, he filled her, and her gasp danced in his ears.

  He lifted her other leg, wrapping it around his waist, and she leaned back against the wall for leverage, matching his thrusts as he slid in and out of her, maddening friction igniting every nerve in his body.

  His climax coiled tight in his core, and he held her ass with one hand, stroking her clit with his thumb.

  She clutched his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin as a beautiful, erotic moan flowed up from her chest. “Oh, James.” She shuddered, her center contracting around him as he thrust faster and harder.

  His release unfurled in his groin, and he leaned into her, his knees nearly buckling beneath him. His orgasm overtook him, slicing through his soul and mending the broken pieces, making him stronger than ever before. As his breathing slowed, he slipped out of her, lowering one of her legs to the floor.

  “I’m not sure I can stand up after that.” She laughed, clutching his shoulders with trembling arms. “Sweet Spirits, that was intense.”

  “I’ve got you, sweetheart.” Slipping an arm behind her knees, he cradled her against his chest and carried her to the bedroom. He snuggled under the covers next to her, holding his fate-bound in his arms. “You weren’t kidding about that control thing. That was the hottest sex in…the history of sex.”

  “Finding balance is important. I don’t have to change who I am to embrace my wilder side.” She rested her head on his shoulder and draped her leg across his waist.

  “You don’t need to change a thing. You’re sheer perfection.” His need satiated, he drifted in and out of sleep, comfortable, but unwilling to give in to slumber just yet. Spending every single day with this woman for the rest of his life wouldn’t be enough, and closing his eyes seemed like a waste of the time they had left. Even if it was forever.

  “James.” She lifted her head to look at h
im. “You told Luke you intended to follow his rule about not sleeping with clients.”

  He brushed a curl from her forehead. “Yes, I did.”

  “You haven’t broken that rule; you’ve shattered it to pieces. What will you tell him?” She rested a hand on his chest, and he covered it with his own.

  “There’s a caveat to that rule: don’t sleep with a client, unless you plan on taking her as your mate.”

  Grinning, she propped her head on her hand. “I see. Well, I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble with your boss.”

  “I don’t plan to.” He returned her smile. “Odette, will you be my mate?”

  “I always have been, James, and I always will be. In this life and every one that comes. Forever.”

  Epilogue

  Odette signed off on the catering order and turned to scan the scene. Twinkling lights draping from massive oaks illuminated the park, and a jazz band occupied the stage, tuning their instruments in preparation for the party. The October air had an early fall bite, and she pulled her lavender shawl up around her shoulders to chase away the chill.

  James stood in the back of the VIP tasting tent, nervously turning the bottles so all the labels faced forward. The pack had lent some of their members to help, and Amber, the owner of O’Malley’s, slapped at James’s hand and shooed him away.

  After Odette’s comment about liking his facial hair, James had let his beard grow in fully, giving her already-rough-around-the-edges werewolf a rugged, even more masculine look. He bent over to hide a power cord beneath a table, and she admired the view of his backside. She’d spent every day with the man for the last four months, and she still couldn’t get enough of him.

  She strode toward him and slipped a hand beneath the back of his shirt. “They have placards. It’s okay if the bottles are turned.”

  “I know.” He grinned and pulled her to his side. “I’m just trying to make everything perfect for the first-annual Baron Samedi Festival.”

  “You can’t call it annual unless it happens more than once, and this will only happen again if it’s a success.”

  “It will be. You’ll see.”

  Loosening the reins at the distillery had been the hardest part of her promise to the Baron. She’d found balance in every aspect of her life, James making sure she took a break to enjoy herself whenever she got too uptight. She went out with friends—his and hers—went dancing, communicated with the dead who approached her for help, and enjoyed life in general…something she hadn’t done since she was a kid.

  When she started playing music at the distillery, her employees had looked at her like she’d gone insane. When she had her intern plan the first company happy hour, they thought she’d been abducted and replaced with an alien replica.

  The people around her were slowly starting to accept her new attitude toward life, and everyone from the distillery and the House of Voodoo had pitched in to make this tribute to Baron Samedi happen. If all went well, it would be an annual party to celebrate her met tet and all that he had done for her and James, and hopefully enlighten the attendees about the mystery of Voodoo in the process.

  She took James’s hand and guided him out of the tent. “Gates open in ten minutes.”

  “You’ve got this, sweetheart. I won’t leave your side.”

  She leaned into him and took one last moment to appreciate everyone’s efforts. They had a children’s section with inflatable bounce houses and an obstacle course. In addition to the VIP tasting tent, several booths with offerings of food and drinks were stationed around the festival grounds, and the Voodoo museum had an informative display set up across from the main stage.

  Five vodouisants sat at tables beneath the trees, and Natasha waved her over. “Tyrell caught a stomach bug, so we’re short one reader. Will five be enough?”

  “If not, I can fill in as a medium. I’m sure there will be plenty of people who’d like to talk to lost loved ones.” A familiar flutter beat in her stomach, but it died down as quickly as it had begun. Her powers weren’t nearly as scary as they used to be.

  Natasha shuffled her tarot cards. “Then who will run the show?”

  “I’ll take care of it,” James said.

  Natasha nodded. “You got yourself a good man right there.”

  “He’s the best.” She pressed a kiss to his cheek and waved as Noah approached.

  “Hey, y’all. Sorry I’m late.” Noah hugged Odette and shook James’s hand. “Where do you need me?”

  James glanced over his shoulder, a sly grin curving his lips. “I think Amber might need some help in the tasting tent.”

  “Dude.” Noah’s shoulders slumped, but his gaze drifted toward the tent as he shook his head. “I’d be better off selling tickets or something.”

  Odette cut her gaze between the two men. “What am I missing here?”

  “He’s had a thing for Amber since high school, but he’s too chicken to do anything about it.”

  Noah’s jaw tightened.

  “She’s nice.” Odette followed his gaze toward the tent, where Amber stood, straightening her apron. “It doesn’t hurt to talk to her, does it?”

  “She’s the alpha’s sister.” Noah shoved his hands in his pockets.

  “So?” She looked at James for explanation.

  “He’s second-born, so he thinks he’s not good enough to date someone with alpha blood.”

  She cocked her head. “Isn’t the alpha’s mate second-born? If she’s good enough…”

  “It’s not the same.” Noah pleaded with his gaze. “What else do you need help with?”

  James slapped him on the shoulder. “Just the tasting tent. Hey, Amber?” He lifted a hand to get her attention. “Your help is here.”

  A genuine smile lit up her features, and something sparked in her bright-blue eyes. “Send him over.”

  “Ah, hell,” Noah groaned.

  “You’ll survive.” James gave him a push and laughed as Noah shuffled to the tent.

  “That’s the smile of a woman who is happy to see a man.” She looked at James. “Can’t he see that?”

  “What we think about ourselves sometimes gets in the way of what we see right before our eyes.”

  She wrapped her arms around him. “I guess we know that better than anyone.”

  “We learned our lesson.” He kissed her cheek. “He will too. Eventually.”

  Can’t get enough magic and romance in New Orleans? Don’t miss Love & Ghosts, a new series by Carrie Pulkinen!

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  Sample the first chapter of Love & Ghosts now:

  “What about a one-night stand? Or a series of them?” Trish asked.

  Emily Rollins cast a sideways glance at her friend. “I think I need to swear off men altogether.” She gathered her billowing crimson skirt in her hands and climbed the stairs toward the hotel entrance, placing each step with precision. Practicality wasn’t on the list of requirements when she selected her costume for the Masked Movie Character Ball, and the last thing she needed was to trip on a layer of satin and tulle and tumble down before she even got inside.

  Trish adjusted her mask. “You can’t punish yourself forever, Em. You promised you’d try to have fun tonight.”

  She sighed and peered out over Canal Street, the dividing line separating the French Quarter from the rest of New Orleans. An October breeze raised goose bumps on her arms, and she shivered as she turned and drifted up the stairs.

  “I’m not punishing myself. I’m just…” She swallowed the sour taste in her mouth. “It doesn’t feel right to have fun so soon.”

  As they stepped inside the Maison Des Fleurs, soft classical music replaced the
roar of outside traffic, and green carpet squished beneath her stilettos.

  Trish touched her elbow. “It’s been more than a year. It’s time to move on.”

  “I know.” She drew her shoulders toward her ears and wrapped her arms around her middle. “But after Jessica died…”

  “Well, tonight you’re the Queen of Hearts, darling, and you’re smoldering. Every hot-blooded man who’s passed through this lobby has checked you out.”

  Emily rolled her eyes, but her friend’s abrupt change in subject did help loosen the vise-grip squeezing her chest. Now the damn corset was the only thing keeping her from breathing properly. “Trish…”

  “Seriously. At least ten different men have given you a once-over in the five minutes we’ve been standing here.”

  She laughed. No one was checking her out, and she’d prove it. She whirled around to face the room, daring someone to look at her. A Captain Jack Sparrow look-alike wearing a simple black eye mask bowed formally, wiping the smug smile right off her face.

  Trish nodded. “Look, babe. All I’m saying is you’re new in town. It’s a masquerade, so the whole point is mystery. You can be anybody you want to be tonight, and no one will know the difference. Let me teach you how to have fun for a change.”

  She crossed her arms. “I know how to have fun.”

  “Sure, if you like wet blankets and cold showers. Come on.” Trish linked arms with Emily and dragged her toward the ballroom.

  Emily stopped outside the door and yanked her arm free. Her friend’s teasing words stung. She’d come to New Orleans for a fresh start—to get away from the guilt that had been chewing her to bits and spitting out the pieces—and she had moved on, hadn’t she? She’d done plenty of new things.

  An indoor skydiving place opened near her apartment a month ago, but she hadn’t worked up the nerve to check their prices. Iconic street cars chugged along the tracks every ten minutes in front of the urgent care clinic where she worked, but she’d never hopped on one. Hell, the only reason she’d been to Bourbon Street was because Trish dragged her there. Aside from her occasional walks through Jackson Square, she hadn’t explored the city she now called home. Her throat tightened. Maybe she hadn’t moved on at all.