Holiday romance with enough heat to melt the North Pole! Oh, my...it's Dakota Skye!
Character first meetings...love, lust, or contempt at first sight?
You decide (although with this one, I'd say it's pretty clear!)
Paranormal Erotic Romance
If you're not 18, turn back now! Adult content.
Walls have ears.
Doors have eyes.
Trees have voices.
Beasts tell lies.
Beware the rain.
Beware the snow.
Beware the man
You think you know.
-Songs of Sapphique
SnowBound
Chapter One
Days like this could only lead to
one thing: a really good drunken, anonymous night of debauchery. Haley Masters
paid the taxi driver and exited the car without a backward glance. Walking down
Larimer Street in downtown Denver, Colorado, she gave the white lights twisted
around trees and giant lit ornaments strewn across the street a passing glance.
Anger surged through her veins and she needed to take the edge off. Holiday
merriment simply didn't do it for her tonight. Only one thing would quell the
fire burning in her gut: a really good fuck.
"Hey, hottie!" A homeless
man hollered at her from where he leaned against the wall amidst the shoppers
and diners of the evening. His friends whistled.
She rolled her eyes and stayed
focused as she crossed the street toward the loudest, most obnoxious bar she
could find. The cold air snipped at the exposed thighs peeking out between the
hem of the short leather skirt and knee-high black boots. Flurries stuck to the
caramel-colored hair sliding across her face with the breeze. Breath formed a
fog in front of her mouth as she pulled open the glass doors. Inside, she
looped her leather jacket over the back of a barstool, perched on the seat, and
waved down the bartender.
"Tequila, neat," she
ordered before taking a moment to settle herself.
If the agency knew how she burned
off energy after a particularly nasty case, she'd be fired in a heartbeat.
After months of working on a sex trafficking case that had taken her from Maine
to Colorado, she and her partner had hit a dead end today and all she could
think about were the pictures of the missing girls' they'd been tracking.
Damn it, she'd wanted to get them
home to their families before the end of the year, preferably by Christmas, but
now it didn't seem like that would happen. She winced at the bite of failure.
Blowing out a long breath, she
rolled her shoulders back and adjusted the flowing neckline so it fell slightly
off one shoulder and hinted at the curve of her breasts beneath the thin red
fabric. Time to forget for a few hours...lose herself in a haze of alcohol and
lust.
She scanned the room and rolled
back her shoulders. Her partner, James, wanted to follow-up with a psychic who
kept sending them messages about his sister who he thought was connected to the
ring they were investigating. They'd had a fight about it before she'd left
their temporary housing at a residential hotel. She might be down and, yes,
they'd had a setback, but she couldn't justify calling in a psychic, especially
one with a reputation as a fame whore.
Gratefully, she tossed back the
shot of tequila and ordered another.
"Looks like you're out to have
a good time." A man slid into the seat next to her. "Drowning sorrows or deadening a guilty
conscience?"
She drank the second shot—and
motioned for a refill without answering. Despite her intentions for the night,
she needed a few drinks before the hunt could begin. It usually took three
shots for the tequila to warm her blood and bring out the female predator
hidden by day beneath conservative suits and a badge.
"Silence...I get it. No
problem. A lot of people have issues this time of the year...I didn't mean to
intrude." He leaned his back against the bar and observed the crowd, his
thigh bumping hers as he adjusted himself on the stool.
She slid her gaze over him and did
a quick profile: bad boy con artist who liked his sex rough and his women
feisty. At least a foot taller than her, she had to look up at him even from
this sitting position. Chocolate hair waved back from his face and curled
around his ears, green eyes focused on the amount of skin revealed by her blouse,
and his smile screamed I'll-Make-You-Come-Over-and-Over-Again.
Exactly the disposable type she was
looking for tonight.
Haley perched her elbow on the bar
and faced him, her knee sliding along his thigh as she turned.
"Issues?"
"Oh, she speaks." He
drank his tequila while surveying the crowd around them.
"You don't care much for
social boundaries, do you?"
"Do you?" His gaze lingered at the hint of her black lace bra
exposed by the fall of her blouse down her shoulder.
He emanated power and confidence. His
gaze across her shoulder, up her neck and over her face felt like a tangible
caress.
She shivered under the scrutiny and
squeezed her legs tighter together to stop the sudden tremble in them.
"I'm Landon—"
"I don't remember
asking." Her gaze dipped lower over the leather jacket and black sweater
he wore underneath it. Her fingers itched to touch him. "Are you a tourist
or do you live around here?"
"A little bit of both."
"A man of mystery."
"Yes, actually, I am."
Smiling, he looked at the bartender and ordered a shot of tequila for himself
before handing her the third one.
An FBI agent, she knew the risks.
She also knew she could handle herself.
Right now, she wanted to handle him.
"Man of mystery? You'd think
I'd be intrigued and ask some questions about that, but I'm not."
"Not what? Intrigued or
bothered to ask a question?" His gaze roamed over her face, a slow smile
reassuring her that they were headed down the same path.
"Can you keep a secret?"
She leaned within a few inches of his face and looked him in the eye.
"I've been known to keep
many."
"I don't really give a damn
about your story." She dropped her hand over his, watched the golden
flecks at the center of his eye flicker with the dilation of his pupil. "But
I'm definitely interested."
"Straight to the point,"
he whispered.
"Why waste time?" She
slid her hand slowly off of his, enjoying the idea of seducing him. Her finger
lingered on his wrist before she picked up the fresh round of tequila, lifted
it to her lips, and downed it without looking away from his eyes.
Damn, despite her act, she really
did want to know more details. He had a certain air about him that hinted at danger
and darkness, both things she knew a lot about.
Landon mimicked her actions with
the tequila, a challenge in his eyes as if daring to see how far she'd go.
What he had no way of knowing is
that she didn't have limits, not on nights like tonight when the need for human
connection drove her past the point of caring about rules or protocol. Nights
like this she needed something to make her feel alive after becoming numb from
a job that had few happy endings.
"Strangers in bars can be
risky," he said. "Maybe I'm here to kidnap you and make you do my
bidding."
"I have a license to kill...so
bring it." She leaned her elbow on the bar, enjoying the baritone of his
voice.
He quirked an eyebrow. "A
woman after my own heart."
"It's not your heart I'm
interested in having."
He laughed, a look of genuine
surprise lighting his face. He dropped his hand to the bare skin of her thigh
exposed between the boot and hem of her skirt. Leaning in, he asked, "Want
to hear one of my secrets?"
"Why not?"
"I have very few
inhibitions." His eyes stared deeply into hers, making it clear that he
intended to leave her with her.
Pulse accelerated at the idea of getting
him naked and uninhibited. She'd had a frustrating month of chasing madmen
across the country, battling beaurocracy, and dealing with a partner so
desperate he considered consulting a psychic. Sitting within a fraction of Mr.
Tiger Eyes, she wanted to unleash all that pent up energy onto him.
"Grab a taxi with me?"
she asked, not willing to waste another minute on small talk.
"Might as well get on to the
good stuff." He winked, tossed some money onto the bar and then stepped
from the stool. Before she could grab her jacket, he held it out for her to
slip into.
She slid her arms into the leather
sleeves, back to him, and smiled at the gesture. When he pulled her hair to the
side and kissed the back of her neck, shudders of pure desire melted her
panties to her skin.
Danger always turned her on and,
picking up this man felt like a Level Red Imminent Threat.
She looked up at him and grinned. She
might be small in comparison to his massive frame, but a tour of duty in the US
Marines followed by extensive training at FBI headquarters in Quantico gave her
an advantage. The combination made her the perfect undercover agent...and gave
her confidence for her secret lifestyle in the night shadows.
"I'm Haley, in case you're
wondering." She snagged his hand and led him toward the door.
"I didn't think we were
trading names." He laughed, his fingers tightening over hers.
"I changed my mind."
Again only giving the holiday lights a cursory glance, she led him down the
street to where a line of taxis waited outside the Westin.
Once inside the taxi, Landon pulled
her against him, molded his hands over her ass, and sucked on her lower lip.
She liked his straight to the point
attitude. Grabbing his crotch with one hand, she held the back of his head with
the other.
Eyes wide open, they kissed. Slowly
at first before growing animalistic. Biting. Sucking. Groping. Passion
reverberated between them like a living thing binding their bodies together in
a force field that couldn't be escaped.
Hands beneath her skirt on the bare
skin of her ass, he slipped a finger beneath the thin strip of her thong and squeezed.
He moaned against her mouth as if sensing her need.
She rubbed her hand over the zipper
of his jeans, thrilled at the bulge hardening beneath her touch.
"C'mon, guys, I have other
passengers during the night. Keep it clean back there," the taxi driver
said.
Laughing into each other's mouths,
they ignored the reprimand and kept touching each other in ways that made the
clothes unbearable barriers to satisfaction.
Once at her hotel, she let Landon
pay for the driver while she straightened her skirt. He snagged her by the
waist and led her toward the lobby.
Inside the elevator, they plastered
against each other again, tasting, licking, nipping, teasing until the doors
opened on her floor. If others had come in, she wouldn't have noticed. All of
her senses disappeared except for feel and taste.
She fumbled with her key card,
nearly tripping over her high heels in the haste to enter.
Landon kicked the door closed
before twisting her around and slamming her back against the wall. Hands on her
wrists, his lips burned a trail from her chin to her cleavage. His tongue
slipped beneath her breasts. His thigh pushed between her thighs.
"Strip for me," he said
against her skin.
Backing away abruptly, he stared at
her through the dark room.
Not taking her eyes off of his
face, she shrugged off her coat and tossed it aside. She unbuttoned her blouse,
pausing for a minute to slide her fingers between her breasts and down her
abdomen, excited to see him watching her every move as if hypnotized.
Turning her back, she let the
blouse slide from her shoulders, past her ass, and onto the ground as she
walked to the king sized bed illuminated only by streetlamps glowing through
the windows.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, she
lifted one leg, unzipped the boot, looked at his face, and slowly pulled it off.
She repeated with the other. Abruptly, she stood and yanked the comforter from
the bed, giving him a good view of her ass as she crawled to the center of the
bed wearing only her leather skirt and bra. Facing him, she wiggled free of the
skirt, bending ever so slightly to show off the bounce of her breasts barely
concealed by black lace.
Biting her bottom lip, she
unsnapped her bra and shrugged so that the straps fell slowly down her
shoulders.
He groaned from where he stood in
the shadows.
Sitting, she tugged off her thong,
looked at him, and knelt back on her elbows. "Your turn."
"Damn, you're exquisite,"
he muttered before yanking his sweater over his head. "We're going to have
fun."
"Oh, yeah, we are." She
scooted back on the bed, grabbed the bottle of tequila she'd bought earlier,
and twisted off the lid. Without breaking eye contact, she poured the liquor
over her breasts. "Care for a taste?"
He shoved his jeans and underwear
down, his hard cock erect and throbbing. Gaze focused on her tits, he crawled
over her, licking the trickling alcohol that had slid down her abdomen before
sucking greedily on her nipple.
She curled her fingers into his
hair and held his face tight against her breast, loving the feel of being
devoured. She stared at the tattoos on his shoulder and bit her lower lip. He
had a body that delivered on the promise his smile had conveyed at the bar.
He nipped at her other breast, his
fingers claiming the erect nipple he'd abandoned. His cock pressed against her
thigh as he continued his sweet torture of her tits.
She squeezed his shoulders before
sliding her hands over his wide back. She gasped when he shifted his weight and
smothered her mouth with his. The weight of his body pressed her into the
mattress, his tongue possessed her mouth so completely she could barely breathe.
His hand slipped between her
thighs, thumb toyed with her clit as his fingers slid inside her wet cunt.
She spread her legs wider, the need
for him having become a steady drumming in her core that drove her over the
edge of control. She twisted her hips to meet the rhythm of his hand.
"Damn, you're so hot for
me," he growled against her ear before sinking his teeth into her
shoulder.
She shouted at the pain that both
shocked and excited her.
He leaned back on his knees between
her open thighs, grabbed her hips and pulled her to sitting. His eyes gleamed
with primal need while he wrapped her hair around his fists.
"Want to make this
interesting?" He tugged on her hair.
"It's already pretty
interesting." Head tilted back from the force of his hands pulling her
hair, back arched with her tits out, and legs spread around his kneeling
thighs, she felt utterly exposed.
He teased her cunt with his cock,
but did not enter; instead, he slid his penis up her slit and over her clit.
Slowly while watching her face react with wanting.
"Tell me you want me," he
commanded.
"I want you."
He cinched her hair tighter around
his fists, causing her to bend further back. He bent his head and teased her
nipples with his teeth while his cock rubbed against her clit and her pussy
pulsated with need.
She gripped his shoulders for
balance.
"Beg to suck my dick," he
whispered against her throat.
"Please let me suck your
cock."
Abruptly, he released her hair and
pushed her back against the mattress. He crawled over her, pressing her arms
down with his knees, bracing his hands against the headboard, and propped his
penis against her lips.
"Do a good job," he
ordered from where he peered down at her.
She grabbed his balls in one hand,
his shaft in the other, and licked the tip of his penis as if it were the
sweetest candy she'd ever tasted. Thick and long, his cock felt perfect in her
hands as she worked him in and out of her mouth. His hips thrust deeper,
effectively fucking her throat. She squeezed his balls, loving the way they
filled her palm, hand moving over his shaft, lips sucking, tongue licking all
while he fucked her face.
"Stop," he gasped, before
sliding his length free of her lips and moving down her body.
He buried his face between her
thighs and ate like a starving man while he shoved his fingers inside her with
a force that made her shudder. The air on her bare breasts hurt the taut
nipples. Her mouth felt empty without his cock. She clenched the sheets at her
side and thrust her hips against his face.
When he shifted from the bed and
reached for his discarded jeans, she twisted her legs on the mattress in
protest. Condom on his delicious cock, he leaned over her, met her gaze, spread
her legs as wide as he could get them, and grinned.
"Ask me to fuck you."
"Fuck me."
"Say my name."
"Fuck me, Landon."
"Happy to, Haley." He
plunged inside her in one long stroke. Deep.
She arched her back.
He rammed inside her without mercy.
Hard. Ravenous. Her tits bounced at the force of his thrusts. She twisted her
head against the pillow, wanting more and more. He moved over her, looped her
knees over his shoulders, and ground his mouth against hers while his slammed
his cock harder and deeper until an orgasm ripped through her and she screamed
into his open mouth.
When he finally came, he shuddered
against her and laughed against her lips.
Legs still over his shoulders, she
gripped his forearms and struggled to catch her breath.
"Let's take a shower," he
whispered against her ear. "The night is young and there's still so much
to do."
She grinned at the possibilities of
what was to come. Body aching from his rough touch, she slid from beneath him
and walked to the shower. "I need to rinse off, maybe call room service.
Damn, Landon, you know how to rock a woman's world."
"I try." He followed, his
hands sliding over her shoulders and mouth kissing the back of her neck.
"I think I'm addicted to your skin."
"A little early to be
addicted."
He stood behind her while she
soaped up.
His hands slid around her breasts
from behind. "I'm insatiable around you."
"I know the feeling" She
reached behind him and grabbed his cock that had already revived for round two.
Her pussy throbbed with expectation.
"Spread your legs."
She propped her palms against the
tiled wall, head bent beneath the spray of the shower, and spread her legs as
wide as she could without falling.
He grabbed her hips, lifted, and
slammed himself inside her again, biting her shoulder and kissing the back of
her neck while the warm spray of the shower pounded their joined bodies. Quick
but satisfying, he slapped her ass after he'd come again.
"I'll wait outside," he
whispered against her ear, leaving her to finish showering alone.
She remained propped against the
shower wall for a minute before lifting her face to the water. Her reasons for
going out tonight faded to the recesses of her mind from the effects of
mind-blowing sex and the alcohol running through her veins.
She took her time, blow dried her
hair, and wrapped herself in a robe. When she walked into the bedroom, she
stopped short at the sight of him dressed and sitting on the edge of her bed
with a gun in his hand.
A chill went through her.
"I need you to cooperate with
me, Special Agent Masters." Handsome face devoid of a smile, he nodded to
her packed suitcase. "Get dressed and walk out of here with me without
making a fuss."
"What is this?" Her mind
tossed with possibilities of wrestling the gun from his hands, kicking his jaw,
and damaging that delicious cock she'd practically worshipped.
"I'm Landon Mitchell..."
he paused for effect.
The psychic who'd been leaving all
the damn messages.
Gritting her teeth, she pulled on a
pair of jeans and a sweater. "This isn't exactly persuading me to take you
seriously."
"If I had known the only way
to get through to you was to pick you up in a bar, I'd have done so a few
months ago." Waving the gun toward her jacket, he stood. "You're
coming with me."
"Kidnapping a federal
agent...real smart. What if I don't go? I could scream."
"You were screaming earlier
and no one came." He smiled. "Well, except for me. I came. Twice. So
did you."
"Bastard." She folded her
arms across her chest. "You don't know who you're dealing with here. I'm
going to fucking destroy you."
Moving at a speed that shocked her,
he grabbed her hair and forced her up against the wall. The gun pressed between
her breasts. "This isn't a joke. My sister is one of those missing girls
you've been tracking and I know where she is—at least I see a place. I need
your help but you've ignored me. I know exactly who you are and know you're one
of the best. You're going to come with me now because time is running out, do
you understand?"
"You couldn't have said all of
that at the bar?"
"Would you have given me the
time of day? We both know the answer to that. Besides, you had other plans for
me." He reached to the back of her head and pulled her hair.
"Remember?"
"Fuck you."
"You will again. Soon."
He kissed the side of her face. "Now let's go."
"I'm not going." Despite
the top of her head only reaching the center of his chest while she stood
barefoot, she had the power of surprise on her side. Without hesitating, she
round-kicked him in his side, slammed her elbow against his jaw, spun around
and grabbed the wrist of his hand holding the gun.
Using the full weight of his body,
he crushed her face first against the wall. Before she could react, he'd pulled
her wrists behind her back and slapped handcuffs on her. Rattled at being
caught off her game, she stumbled when he stepped back and draped her jacket over
her shoulders.
He grabbed her bag and purse
containing her own gun and badge and looped them over his shoulder before
reaching beneath her jacket and jabbing the gun against her ribs.
"Walk."
"You're not really going to
shoot me." She put one foot in front of the other, legs weak from the
intense orgasms and subsequent assault. Mind shell-shocked at the turn of
events, she struggled to form a strategy.
When had she lost her edge?
"I'm desperate for someone to
help me find my sister." He met her gaze. "In your experience, what
do desperate men do?"
She sighed and broke eye contact.
With a heavy heart, she allowed herself to be walked out of the hotel and into
his car. She made a point of looking into the security cameras as they left.
She knew her partner, James, would look at the footage and figure out she
hadn't left willingly. She might break a few rules with her sexual escapades,
but she never abandoned an active investigation.
* *
*
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