First draft and may be changed

Coming October 2008…

Berkley Trade
ISBN: 978-0425223543

 

Steve fought not to heave a sigh of relief, wondering how Ethan had known she needed him. The best lay in Austin, probably in all of Texas – and the one with the fewest strings. Thank God.

Damn, but she needed to be held. She’d come here to borrow Cousin Mac’s time-share. He was her sole relative and very popular with Uncle Sam. Only God knew where the Army was working him to the bone right now, since she’d abruptly interrupted her visit with him at Fort Bragg.

She didn’t want to think about her diminishing chances of ever getting two point three kids and a house with a white picket fence. She sure as hell didn’t want to second-guess anything connected with Ramirez’s death. But sitting alone in a strange bar, in a strange town, being ogled by strangers, was no way to shut down her brain or feel warm again.

Sleeping with Ethan had its own set of risks, of course. He was a vampiro and he knew far too much about the worst guys in Texas. But he’d never hurt her and she’d never seen him commit a crime. Besides, a little blood was a small price to pay for the kind of sex he could provide.

She almost bounced on her toes at the prospect. She had Ethan and life was going to be much, much better for at least a little while. Starting with the visuals, of course.

He was a beautiful man, but she’d always found him most dangerous to her equilibrium when he was paying the least attention to his own attractions. Blond hair, a Greek god’s irresistible beauty, hazel eyes backed by the cool, calculating intelligence of a gunfighter, and a panther’s lethal grace and power.

Not kind or gentle – but skillful, which was all she wanted now, thank God.

“Damn, I’m glad to see you,” she breathed.

He glanced at her, both of them moving swiftly along the pathways between the villas. Exotic flowers scented the soft night, many still lightly bespangled from the earlier rainstorm.

“What about the husband?” His voice was definitely edged.

Jealous? Surely not. But he’d always been careful to observe legal formalities around her.

“Divorce.” She made a moue of distaste. With Ethan’s arm around her, she could start erasing Fred’s bedroom memories. “It’s been final for a few months.”

“That sounds – very complete and very fast,” Ethan commented, turning into the truly exclusive part of the resort.

She blinked, startled they weren’t heading for his truck. He wasn’t somebody to stick around public places. Possible destinations started to dance through her head, all strongly approved by her libido.

“He got caught with his pants down.” She shrugged, more than eager to forget the bastard. “At the church picnic by the oldest Sunday School teacher.”

“Shit.” Ethan’s voice was a lethal hiss.

“Not exactly, but you’ve got the idea.” She leaned closer to her longtime lover. His heat seeped into her from his shoulders to the roughness of his denim-clad leg rasping her thigh. “Must we talk about him?”

“Not if you don’t want to.” He unlocked an isolated villa and stood back, the porch light striking sparks from his golden hair.

She sauntered in, trying to breathe through a throat grown suddenly tight.

The villa was a modernistic vision of what an Easterner thought Texas style should be, with lots of overstuffed leather furniture, woven rugs, and tile floors. It looked comfortable, though, and there was a door which promised a bedroom.

He kicked the front door shut and kissed her neck, lightly scraping his teeth over her skin. Steve rose up on her toes with a little moan, steam sizzling through her veins.

“How long will you be here?”

“What does that matter?” she snapped and tried to turn around.

He stopped her with an arm around her waist. “Tell me, Steve. Are we talking about a night, a week, or longer?”

Oh shit, he was stroking his hands up and down her arms, his callused fingers somehow striking sparks from her apparently satiny smooth skin.

He locked his fingers in hers and hauled her closer to him. She squirmed against him and over him, driving herself frantic, heat rising through her bones and rippling across her skin.

All she wanted was to forget about everything and just get laid. Why did they have to talk?

“Steve?” he prompted.

She wriggled again, but he wouldn’t slip his leg between hers. Her heart was pounding, blocking thought from her brain.

“At least a week. Maybe a month.” For the first time, her exile to Austin sounded enjoyable.

“Very good,” he approved and kissed her cheek, close but not close enough to her mouth.

Ethan’s voice sounded a little tight but she ignored that, pleased his mouth had moved lower to explore her jaw and throat. She immediately tilted her head, moaning encouragement, her skin growing taut and flushed.

He turned her to face him, never lifting his head. She stroked his head, savoring how his hair’s thick silk rippled through her fingers.

His strong fingers slipped inside her dress, fondling and kneading her breast. She groaned and arched, pressing herself shamelessly into their expert enticement, shuddering under every heated spike of her blood.

He stroked her thighs, teasing her under her skirt. She moaned, her legs squeezing his hand, her hips twisting and writhing in encouragement. Passion pulsed and heated through her veins, sizzling like steam on an overheated skillet.

She snarled in frustration, cream spilling to follow his lead. “Damn you, Ethan!”

“Tut-tut! Such language from a lady,” he mocked lightly.

“I want to be fucked, Ethan, not seduced. It’s been nine months since I’ve had a man!” She and Fred had been seeing a marriage counselor months before the final breakup – although Fred had started his first affair days after their wedding. It’d be a long time before she forgot that discovery.

But Ethan wasn’t a marriage candidate, since he was a vampiro. He’d never offer a gold ring or a family. She could relax with him and simply enjoy herself.

He stilled for a moment, his hands falling silent on her.

“Ethan, dammit!” She pushed against him, demanding his full attention again.

He chuckled, long and low, silky and dangerous. She shivered, recognizing the promise of eventual fulfillment – but not necessarily in the gentlest fashion.

He flipped up her skirt, half-tearing her panties to bare her. Hot cream from her core gushed to follow, sliding down her thighs, scenting the air.

“Feeling eager? Feeling ready?” he queried, his voice harsh and demanding.

“Yes, dammit!” How often did she have to tell him?

A single, callused finger slipped between her legs and played with her. Rough, blunt, dragging through her slick folds, playing with her clit, teasing her, circling, probing and withdrawing until she was nearly insane. She rode it, adapted, fought to keep it. Her breath caught in her lungs, her legs rose and sank down to match its rise and fall, her heartbeat drummed in her ears. She clutched at his shoulders, keening his name.

So long, so very long since she’d had a man. Since she’d had anything more than her hand or a vibrator.

Wonderful. Best of all, it was Ethan.

He pressed down on her clit, in that expert stroke of his – and she climaxed, every bone and sinew vibrating with pleasure, cascades of joy tumbling through her.

Long moments passed while she fought to recover, shuddering with the need for air. Then she slowly began to breathe again, frustrated she still hadn’t had him inside her. “Damn you, Ethan!”

“What’s the matter, Stephanie Amanda?”

“Ethan!” Only he dared to call her that.

His face was harsh with leashed hunger but he managed a hoarse laugh. “Still haven’t had enough – Stephanie?”

She snarled but managed a civil response. There’d be no satisfaction until she accepted the name. “You know I want more of you, Ethan.” She swallowed, her eyes drifting down over his chest.

“Please,” she whispered.

 

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