[Southern Arcana 2.0] Crossroads (33 page)
“Mmm, and I still thought I only had one arm, so that would’ve been a short fight.” His lips brushed her cheek. “Marry me, Nick. Marry me and keep me out of trouble.” She turned her head and whispered against his mouth. “It’s the least I can do, seeing as how I love you madly and never want to be without you.”
He nipped her lower lip. “Don’t need a big wedding, just family. Kat, your dad, your sister and Luke.”
“I think everyone else will understand.”
“If you want something crazy fancy, I’ll do it for you. I’d do
anything
for you.”
“Fancy’s not my style. Barefoot on the beach, maybe.” They could work out the details later. Right now, all she needed was him, so she climbed into his lap and slid her arms around his neck. “I don’t expect you to do anything like that for me. Just love me.”
“Love me back enough to let me,” he countered.
“You drive a hard bargain.” Still, she held out her left hand.
He eased the ring onto her finger with a wide, goofy smile. “I love you a whole damn lot, Nicole Parker Peyton.”
Her heart was going to pound out of her chest. The ring was warm from his hand, and she stared at it for a moment, wondering. “How am I this lucky?”
“Dunno.” His lips brushed hers, tender and perfect. “Think for a few decades and let me know what you figure out.”
“Deal.” She pushed him to the bed, mindful of his healing shoulder, and kissed him back.
There were no more words, nothing but whispered pleas and hitching breaths. She took her time, exploring him with her hands and lips and tongue, a memorization and a promise that it wouldn’t be the last time. It was only the beginning, and she felt dizzy, almost giddy, every time he arched under her. It was the same thing she’d felt since he’d won his challenge and staked his claim on her, belonging and contentment and
happiness
, so entwined that sex seemed like an afterthought and a necessity, all at once.
Love.
He reached for her, his hands shaking as he drew her close to his chest and thrust into her.
Every pulse of pleasure burned hotter than the last, and she whispered to him between kisses. “Love you.”
“Love you.” The words rode a rumbling growl. “Need you.”
www.samhainpublishing.com
183
Moira Rogers
Yes
, that’s what it was. Need, pure and perfect. Undeniable. There was nothing in the world she needed so much as him, and nothing she couldn’t handle as long as she had him. Everything else would work out, if only because they cared enough to try, to keep working until they found a solution.
Nick lay against his chest, trembling and sated.
This is where I belong.
She didn’t know she’d said the words aloud until Derek chuckled hoarsely and stroked his fingers through her hair. “That’s right, sweetheart. Doesn’t matter if we’re in New York, New Orleans or the back of Wyoming. Wherever you are, that’s where I’ll be.”
“Together.” It seemed like such a simple thing, but they’d had to fight so hard for it. There would still be obstacles, problems she couldn’t even begin to foresee or fathom, but it didn’t matter. They’d face them.
Together.
184
About the Author
How do you make a Moira Rogers? Take a former forensic science and nursing student obsessed with paranormal romance and add a computer programmer with a passion for gritty urban fantasy. To learn more about this romance-writing, crime-fighting duo, visit their webpage a
t www.moirarogers.com,
or drop them an email at
[email protected] (
Disclaimer: crime-fighting abilities may appear only in the aforementioned fevered imaginations.)
Look for these titles by Moira Rogers
Now Available:
Red Rock Pass
Cry Sanctuary
Sanctuary Lost
Sanctuary’s Price
Southern Arcana
Crux
Coming Soon:
Sanctuary Unbound
To find her destiny, she must trust him with her life…and her heart.
Crux
© 2009 Moira Rogers
Southern Arcana, Book 1
Jackson Holt makes a decent living as a private investigator in New Orleans, home of one of the largest underground supernatural populations in the United States. He and his partners have never met a case they couldn’t crack…until a local bar owner asks him to do a little digging on her newest hire.
New Orleans is the fourth destination in as many months for Mackenzie Brooks, a woman on the run from a deranged stalker. After all, any man who shows up on her doorstep claiming to be her destined lover has more than a few screws loose. But crazy doesn’t explain why he always finds her no matter how far she runs.
When her well-meaning boss puts a PI on her case, Mackenzie comes face to face with the incredible truth: magic is real, and whatever spell has kept her hidden and separate from the paranormal world is rapidly deteriorating.
With time running out, she has no choice but to trust Jackson as he struggles to uncover the truth of her past—and her destiny.
Warning: This book contains devious schemes, epic battles, forbidden love between a shapeshifter
and a spellcaster, nosy secondary characters, furniture-endangering sex and a woman fighting to choose
her own destiny.
Enjoy the following excerpt for
Crux:
Mackenzie resisted the urge to change positions again. It didn’t help. Instead she wrapped her hands around the strap of her bag and stared straight ahead, refusing to look at Jackson. Every time she did, the arousal that had been on low simmer all afternoon burst into full-on desire, and she could barely keep her hands to herself.
Even
thinking
about touching him made primal satisfaction unfurl slowly inside her. She stubbornly headed it off. “Can you explain this to me again?” she asked in a low voice, wrapping her fingers more tightly around her bag. “Maybe thinking will help. Or distract me.”
“Explain what?” His eyes didn’t leave the road. “The ants in your pants?” She let out a strangled laugh. “That’s one way to put it. You said Alec thinks it’s some…spell or something?”
“Well, no. The spell would be what normally keeps you from getting this way.” He checked his mirror and signaled to pass. “It’s some sort of shapeshifter thing. The animal has to get out. When she doesn’t, you get restless.” He arched an eyebrow. “Sometimes
really
restless, I guess.”
Mackenzie groaned as she slid lower in the seat and closed her eyes. Every instinct in her body screamed for action. Her vivid imagination provided endless scenarios for how she could soothe the hot need twisting her into knots. The scene unfolded behind her eyelids like an erotic movie—pulling off the road, finding someplace secluded… She could almost smell the clean scent of his skin, could imagine how it would feel under her lips when she slid into his lap and nuzzled her face into his neck.
The earlier fantasies of long, hot lovemaking vanished. The frantic need inside her would be satisfied by nothing less than equally frantic sex. She wanted his hands and mouth on her skin, wanted to feel him writhing helplessly beneath her as she moved above him, driving them both into limp exhaustion.
A tiny whimper escaped as she fought back the image of his face, eyes hazy with pleasure and lips forming her name as she rode him to completion in the front seat of the car. “Oh, God. You have
no
idea how restless.”
He shot her a sharp look. “I suppose I… Hey, how about some music?” He cranked up the volume on the radio, and a song with a low, throbbing beat spilled out of the speakers. He stared straight ahead as he stabbed a button with his finger, changing the station to one featuring talk radio.
Mackenzie stared out the window into the night and took a deep breath. “I don’t suppose you—I mean, it’s a bit of an odd proposition, but would you consider—” She snarled. “The sexual frustration is going to kill me.”
Jackson reached for his phone, hit a button and slapped it to his ear. After a moment, he said, “Yeah, it’s me. Look, about what you said… Yeah, what can she do about that? You know, that won’t—” He paused, obviously listening. “Yeah. Oh no, uh-uh. Okay, yeah. Later.” He snapped the phone closed.
“Sorry, no sex. The bottom line is that you could die, and that would suck. You also can’t take care of it yourself, because you could weaken the spell even further.”
A tiny part of her curled in on itself in embarrassment when she realized Jackson and Alec had just had a discussion about whether or not she could masturbate. The rest of her just wondered if she could talk Jackson into taking the chance that she might not die.
“Jesus Christ.” She closed her eyes again. “Can we pull over at the next town, maybe get some food?
The close quarters aren’t helping.”
“Absolutely,” he said immediately. “I think food is a great idea. We can walk around and stretch our legs too. Terrific idea, Mackenzie.”
“Terrific idea,” she agreed faintly.
Except we’re not even halfway there and I’m already losing my
mind.
It was going to be a very long night.
The diner was small and cozy, and looked to cater mostly to truckers. Their waitress showed them to a booth without a word, setting two menus down before returning unprompted with a pot of coffee.
Mackenzie glanced at it, but caffeine wasn’t something she needed to add to her system. “Have you got any milkshakes?” she asked hopefully.
“Sure, honey. Chocolate or vanilla?”
“Vanilla, please.” She glanced across the booth at Jackson. “You drinking coffee?”
“Yeah. Got a lot of driving to do if we want to make it to Boca anytime soon.” He favored the waitress with a smile as he turned over his mug. “Fill ’er up, darlin’, and I’ll have an omelet as big as my head, with bacon, peppers and cheese, please.”
The waitress’s bored expression melted into an answering smile as she filled Jackson’s cup, Mackenzie apparently forgotten. She seemed terribly impressed by Jackson’s easy smile, and set aside the coffee pot as she jotted down his order. “Anything else with that, sweetheart? Sausage? Pancakes? We got some of the best muffins in the state here, if I do say so myself. Bake ’em fresh every night.”
“He said he wants an omelet.” At first, Mackenzie didn’t even realize she’d spoken. Her voice barely sounded like her own, low and dangerous with a hint of menace. Color flooded her cheeks, and she avoided Jackson’s eyes, wishing she could sink into the booth and disappear.
Jackson choked on his coffee, but recovered quickly enough to throw his head back with a laugh.
“Now, now, sweet tart, I’ll stick to my low-carb diet, but the nice lady’s just doing her job.” His smile turned sheepish. “That’s what I get for marrying a health nut, I guess.” The woman turned back to Mackenzie, her expression cool. “And what would you like with your milkshake, ma’am?”
The urge to snarl at her again was so overwhelming Mackenzie dug her teeth into her lip and flashed Jackson a pleading look.
“She’ll have a couple of those muffins,” he said quickly. “Damn hypocrite’s what she is, huh?” As soon as the waitress retreated, Mackenzie folded her arms on the table and dropped her forehead to rest on them. “What in hell is
happening
to me?” she demanded, though she wasn’t sure she wanted an answer. The intense desire to slide across the table and rub herself against Jackson to warn off the waitress was too disturbing for words.
“Well, you seem to be getting possessive there, darlin’.”
She raised her head and glared at him. “No, really?”
“Look.” He leaned forward earnestly. “This isn’t any more fun for me than it is for you, but it’s going to be one hell of a long trip if we can’t come to some kind of understanding about what I can and can’t ignore. The wiggling around on the car seat like a cat in heat? I can ignore it. But I can’t let you make some poor waitress’s life miserable just because I’m a charming bastard. She can’t help that.” A powerful need to strangle him replaced the urge to climb into his lap. Her scowl deepened as she inched out of the booth. “I’m going to the restroom.”
Maybe to run my head under some cold water.
Jackson unlocked Mackenzie’s door and swiped a hand across his forehead. They’d managed to finish dinner without further incident, and he had to credit his purposefully conceited comments with distracting Mackenzie enough to make it possible. “Watch the muffins,” he told her as she climbed into the car.
The look she gave him as she deliberately threw the muffins roughly into the backseat was hot and challenging, but at least it wasn’t inviting. She seemed capable of switching back and forth between lust and rage with startling speed, but she’d been having a lot more success controlling the anger.
Thank God for that
. Jackson rounded the car and opened his own door. It would be a lot easier to deal with her hating his guts than to smack her hands away from the button-fly of his jeans when she started feeling randy again. “All right, buckle up. Miles to go and all.” She took another of those deep breaths that seemed to be the only thing holding her together. “Damn it, I’m hungry.” She twisted in her seat and reached for the bag of muffins.
Her shirt rode up when she stretched out her arm, revealing the smooth skin of her side and stomach.
By some stroke of bad luck—or her own subconscious design—it happened just as she brushed against his arm.
Mackenzie froze, her skin still pressed to his, and moaned, low and needy and desperate. “I want you so badly.”
He snatched his hand away and slammed his forehead on the steering wheel. “Okay, woman. You have
got
to have a little pity on me, here. Fucking around in the backseat could
kill
you.” She crowded against him suddenly, her body soft and her breath hot against his ear. “Right now I feel like
not
fucking around is killing me too.” As if that wasn’t bad enough, she ran her tongue lightly along the shell of his ear.
Jesus God.
He flattened himself back against the car door and batted her away. “Am I going to have to put you under?” he demanded.