ROMANCE: BIKER ROMANCE: Werewolf Rider (MC Shifter Pregnancy Romance) (New Adult Paranormal Romance Short Stories) (105 page)

CHAPTER TEN

Natalya’s head was swimming.  Instead of ordering another vodka, she stepped into the back alley to get some air.  She had finally made contact with the red headed stranger.  The last thing she wanted to do was vomit on his shoes.

Natalya leaned her head back against the cool brick wall and closed her eyes.  She took several deep breaths, and when she opened her eyes, there he was.

He was holding a glass of water.  He held it out and gave her a nod.  “For you,” he said, in heavily-accented English.

“Thank you,” she said, touching his hand as she took the glass.  “I didn’t think you spoke English.”

He gave her an embarrassed smile and said, “Not good.”

“French?” she asked.

He licked his lips and struggled to find the words.  “Not good, too.”

His awkwardness made her smile.  She sipped the water and found the nausea in her stomach replaced by something else, something that burned in a good way. 

She remembered Carlos’ words again.  Something like, “We all go home happy!”

“I am Natalya,” she said, tapping her fingertips to her chest.

“I am Aleksey,” he said, doing the same.  He looked deeply into her eyes.  His fingertips came up to touch her cheek.  “Beautiful.”

Now it was her turn to be embarrassed. 

Natalya swallowed hard as she gathered her courage.  She tugged at the collar of his shirt and leaned in close to whisper in his ear.  She said, “Come home with me.”

Aleksey might not have understood her words, but he grasped their meaning immediately.  He took her hand and led her to the street to hail a cab.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

They took a cab to her place, which was at the other side of the city.  The spent the time making out in the back seat like a couple of horny teenagers. 

The taxi driver didn’t say a word, though he kept glancing in the mirror to see what all the noise was about.  Natalya didn’t care what he thought.  Obviously, neither did Aleksey. 

He was looking forward to a passionate night with a woman he didn’t know and would probably never see again when the night was through.

*  *  *

By the time they arrived at Natalya’s tiny apartment, she couldn’t hold back anymore.  She attacked him the moment they closed the front door.

She kissed Aleksey passionately and wildly, and he gave back as good as he got. 

They literally tore each other’s clothes off on the way to the bedroom. 

Natalya drew him towards her bed, gloriously naked, showing herself to him, from all sides, so he could look at her.  Her skin was immaculate, her body firm, her small pink nipples erect and so hard they almost hurt. 

Aleksey wasted no time devouring her.

He sucked on her nipples first, taking his time, while she worked her hand around his large cock.  Slowly, she moved her hand up and down while twisting it slightly from left to right.  She heard him moan and knew they had found the perfect way to communicate.

She wanted him inside her, but first she wanted to taste him. 

She changed positions with him, pushing him down on the bed so his cock stood like a flag pole before her. 

He breathed hard in expectation and shut his eyes when he felt her soft mouth close around the root of his cock while her right hand gently massaged his balls. 

This is madness, Aleksey thought, and when he felt he was close to coming, he pulled her up, gave her a long kiss, and lay her down on the bed. 

Natalya complied without resistance.  She spread her legs wide and smiled down at him. 

He looked like a creature from another world with his red hair and bright eyes.  Aleksey lowered his mouth to her shaved pussy.  His tongue played with her clit, softly and skillfully. 

He licked her lips up and down, and pushed his tongue into her vagina, thrusting it inside her and then going back to her button until she came hard in his mouth. 

Natalya took back control.  She pushed him back down on the bed and straddled his cock.  She lowered herself slowly on to him, circling her hips and squeezing her vagina around his penis so he could feel himself impaling her inch by inch. 

Both of them were breathing hard and deep, wishing this feeling of freedom and total abandon would never and. 

Aleksey moved his hands over her breasts.  His fingers tweezed her nipples, making her moan.

Just as he felt himself about to come, he grabbed Natalya’s sides and hammered her up and down on his cock, thrusting all of himself inside of her, again and again, quicker and harder until they both came with a scream Natalya’s neighbors probably heard.

And she couldn’t have cared less.

CHAPTER TWELVE

They fell asleep in each other’s arms and when Natalya awoke, her redheaded stranger was gone.

She knew that he was on an early flight back to Moscow, but she had allowed herself to hope that maybe, just maybe, he’d be willing to stay with her a little longer.

It was silly, she knew, but as Carlos would say, “It never hurts to dream.”

She took a shower as she recalled their night of passion.  She allowed herself the luxury of a final orgasm, courtesy of her pulsating shower head. 

She dressed quickly and found her phone and keys on the kitchen counter.  She turned on her phone to check her messages.

She had a text from a number she didn’t recognize. 

When she opened it up, tears came to her eyes. 

The message was from Aleksey.

It simply read: See you next year.

THE END

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Cassandra Cole is much like the characters she writes about.  Definitely female, fiercely independent, and hopelessly romantic. She writes romance novels about ordinary people in extraordinary situations with strong feelings and few inhibitions.

HARD

TARGET

An Navy Seal Mystery

By

J.T. ROBBINS

CHAPTER ONE

“Michael, you don’t have to deal with this on your own.  You’re not the only one who has demons.  There are people here that have gone on to be productive members of society.”

Dr.  Emily Evans had seen her fair share of patients with serious issues, but this one really did stick with her.  He had come to her with waking nightmares and episodes of sleepwalking with a loaded gun in his hand.

Michael was standing at the entrance to the office and he felt Dr.  Evan’s hand on his shoulder.  “I know that there are others that are worse off.  I just have to accept the fact I’m alone in this.”

“You don’t have to.  I can help…if you let me.”

“You can’t save everybody.  I might be the one patient who slips through the cracks.  If I can’t talk to you about this, then how am I supposed to heal?”

“Michael, listen to me.”

“Everything that I’ve done has been shrouded in secrecy.  It has always been on a need to know basis.  I’m sorry, but I really shouldn’t have come here.”

He pulled his green army jacket around himself, even though there was not even a chill in the air.  This jacket was a reminder of what he did; of who he was.

Emily felt powerless.  She could feel how damaged Michael was, he radiated the pain, but there was really nothing that she could do about it.  If he wasn’t willing to share his experiences in the field, then how was she supposed to give him the tools to find a way out of the nightmare? 

Michael stuck his hands into the jacket pockets, shrugged off from her grip and then walked out to the parking lot.  He didn’t own a car, so he was relegated to walking everywhere he needed to go.

She followed him outside, but stopped just outside the door and called to him.  “Michael, if you ever need me, call me and I will be there for you.” She had this feeling that she would not hear from him again. 

Her black hair swirled around her face with the wind that had picked up.  She smoothed down her conservative knee length blue skirt and went back inside.  Maybe he was right, maybe he was the one that she just couldn’t save.

*  *  *

Michael saw all the faces of those that had fallen by his hand.  He had seen them in his cross hairs with their unsuspecting eyes looking back at him.  He’d pulled the trigger and cut them down in the prime of their life with each shot taking a piece of his soul.  He used to be religious, but now he didn’t believe in god.  He didn’t believe in anything; not anymore.

Sitting on that couch and trying his best to unburden himself of what was weighing him down had been the hardest thing that he had ever done in his life.  It was even harder than putting down a terrorist who would kill him and many more without so much as a blink.

He had no siblings, his father was in jail for fraud, and his mother had died before he had enlisted.  He was creeping up on his 40th birthday and he could feel the effect of age seeping into his bones.  Where he once could do sprints for miles at a time, he could barely run a mile in the morning now before getting winded.  He had to constantly train his body to overcome this handicap. 

His dark brown hair was shoulder length and it felt wrong.  He was used to a buzz cut and a more disciplined way of life. 

          At 6’4 and 220lbs of muscle, he could be imposing and made most people nervous.  Even his commanding officer made a point to give him a wide berth.  As he made his way down the busy sidewalk he was lost in thought, like a lumbering elephant trudging through the jungle half asleep.

Michael wasn’t watching where he was going and he bumped into a woman who couldn’t get out of his way.  Michael stopped and raised his eyes to her.  He didn’t know why, but he suddenly felt as if he’d turned to stone.

She said, “Hey, watch where you’re going!”

Michael blinked at her as if he was trying to understand.  He was about to apologize when the hair on the back of his neck stood on end.  It was a feeling her was used to and one that had never failed to warn him of danger.

Michael suddenly whipped his head around, looking for the source of the little warning lights that were going off in his head.  He knew he must have looked like a raging lunatic, but he couldn’t control himself.  Turning back, he saw only the beautiful, dark haired woman who was looking at him now with great concern.

She reached out a hand to him and he flinched back.  Could she be the source of impending danger? The woman’s voice took on a soothing tone.  “Sir, are you OK?  Can you hear me?”

Suddenly, it all became clear when he heard the familiar crack of a rifle shot and felt the impact of the bullet in his shoulder.  It was a sound he knew well from the war; one that he would never forget, one that had followed him home and haunted his dreams. 

Michael managed to scream, “Get down!” as he grabbed the woman and pulled her down to the sidewalk with him.  They were standing at an outdoor café.  The people there were already scattering.

There was a large concrete planter next to the group of tables.  He pulled the woman behind it and lay on top of her, offering the only cover he could.

He put his mouth close to her ear and whispered urgently.  “Keep your head down and don’t move.”

“What the hell is happening?” she asked, struggling to catch her breath.  Another shot rang out; this one hitting the concrete planter and sending dust and fragments in the air to rain down on them.  Three more shots came in rapid succession, hitting the sidewalk and overturned tables.

Michael heard screams and looked around to see the people who were sitting at the tables sipping lattes moments ago scrambling in all directions. They were open targets, but didn’t seem to know what to do.

He screamed at them, “Everybody, get down and don’t move!”  They ignored him as bullets continued to hit and ricochet off the concrete around him.  It was like trying to stop the ants from leaving the nest.

People were screaming in all directions and then that same echo of thunder was right in his ears.  He turned with a start to see the woman he had been trying to connect on her knees beside him with a .45 caliber pistol in her hands. 

She was only using the pistol to track down the source of the shots most likely coming from the top of a building across the street.  Michael noticed her uniform for the first time.  She was a cop.  He had been too busy trying to save their lives to notice it before.

“Stay down,” she barked at him.  “I’m going to call for back up!”

Aria Coleman had been on the force for less than two months.  She had her blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail and her uniform was a crisp blue.  She clicked the microphone clipped to her shoulder and called for backup.  Sirens were already screaming in the distance.  Michael thought she was a hell of a lot calmer than he was.

Her badge was shining in the sun.  It was supposed to be a symbol of protection to others, but it was less than useless to restore order under these harrowing conditions. 

“Who the hell is doing this?” she yelled at him.  “And don’t tell me you don’t know.  It’s pretty obvious you’re their target!” She heard the crack of the rifle again and felt something whiz by, barely missed the top of her head.  She heard a “thunk” and looked back to see that the slug had embedded itself into a bench directly behind them.

“I don’t have any idea.” Michael felt a sting in his shoulder and realized he was shot.  The blood had already seeped through his plaid blue shirt and was making a noticeable stain through the green army jacket that he had found in a surplus store. 

Aria could see that this man was telling the truth, or at least as far as he was concerned.  There was something about his eyes.  There was this coldness like something had been killed off inside of him.  She saw how his body was reacting to the danger and it wasn’t normal for a civilian.  His eyes were constantly moving from one corner of the street to the other.  They showed training. 

“Officer Coleman, we need to get off the street.  These people are not the target.” He had seen her name on her name tag “I don’t know what’s going on here, but I can’t get anybody on the line.  I get only static.” They both looked around and saw that everybody in the vicinity was having the same problem with their phones.  No messages to 911 had been sent out and no help was forthcoming.  They had no idea that the shooter was using a device to block signals for a block radius.

“I think you might be right.  Whoever is doing this has their sights set on you.  We can’t do this with all of these people here.  They’re potential targets.  It’s lucky that nobody has been killed.” Aria was breathing heavy and she could feel the adrenaline rushing into her veins.  This was after all what she trained for, but she had never had the chance to actually use her service revolver…until today.