Vanessa Unveiled Read online

  You know that mind-blowing sex we had last night? Please don’t let me fuck you like an animal anymore. We need to leave here, because I think this place is making me want to do things to you that aren’t even entirely legal in some states. Oh, yeah, and I never told you, but I’m a—

  Abort, abort. Don’t think it. If you don’t think it, it’s not real.

  That’s right. The test wasn’t over yet. He still had all day tomorrow to get his body and rioting hormones under control. Perhaps by then he’d also be able to figure out what was going on in his newly enabling wife’s tricky brain.

  “This fresh air is so bracing, isn’t it?”

  Ana had to shout, and even then her voice was muffled by the ski mask on her face. His outfit wasn’t nearly so confining, but then, his body temperature was higher than hers. The wind had stopped howling, and there was a lull in the snow. A good foot or two of the stuff had built up on the ground from the night before. It was soft, perfect for—

  A snowball hit him square in the face. He recoiled in instinct and then shook his head. Ana’s brown eyes behind her mask were alight with mischief and delight. “Whoops.”

  “I can’t believe you just did that.”

  “Hmmm.” She leaned over, picked up a handful of snow and packed it deliberately between her palms. He watched her, hands loose at his sides. She let it fly, and this time the powder hit him square in the chest and dissipated. “Do you believe it now?”

  “You little…”

  When he bent over to grab some snow, she squealed and began running away, but soon discovered snowshoes didn’t allow for much speed. She wasted precious seconds trying to get her feet out from them. He, who had far more practice with the shoes, took them off in record time. Still, he waited patiently in his boots.

  She yelped again when she glanced over her shoulder and took in his ready stance, a snowball in each hand, and started to run back to the house.

  “I’ll give you a ten-second lead,” he announced. He was feeling generous, after all, and she was slow and tiny compared to him. Still, he let the snowballs fly, watching as she ducked and they smacked into the ground near her.

  “Sucker…” came her faint reply as she disappeared around a tree.

  Taylor didn’t even bother to run, his strides eating up the ground, one step to every three of hers. The snow was so soft it was an easy matter to simply follow her footprints.

  About ten feet into the woods, though, her footsteps stopped in front of a tree.

  His eyes narrowed. He looked left, and then right. He even glanced up, but there was no Ana sitting up a tree. Not like she would have that much maneuverability with the bulky outfit on her. “Ana,” he shouted.

  Nothing.

  He listened, but unlike Eli and the rest of his family, his hearing wasn’t quite so superior.

  His smell, though…

  Taylor smiled grimly and inhaled, sorting through the scent of pine and smoke to find Ana’s uniquely feminine scent, overlaid by vanilla lotion.

  Aaaaand, there she was. Hello, Ana.

  He stepped around the tree, only then noticing the almost too-careful brushing of the snow. A smile spread across his face, both proud and amazed. Smart girl, dragging something behind her to keep her path hidden.

  For someone who’d grown up in a crowded city, she’d just mightily impressed him.

  He didn’t bother walking anymore, but started running, his legs eating up the ground, following both her scent and the brushed path in the snow. He’d catch her soon.

  She’d zigged and zagged well though, moving fast for a tiny human who was weighed down by winter clothes, boots and what appeared to be a tree branch. His admiration shot up another notch.

  So did his lust.

  When I find her…

  He couldn’t even formulate the words as he ran faster, as her scent became stronger. Images passed through his mind of her wearing a fragile peasant blouse and flimsy skirt. When he found her, he would rip her top off…

  His strides lengthened. She’d gasp, but her body would conform to his, her mouth eating his as surely as he ate at hers. Sinking sweetly to her knees, she would open his rough trousers, take his cock out and suck it into her mouth. He’d control her motions with his hand on her head, making sure that she fucked him exactly as he wanted and needed it, and then he’d hoist her up against the side of a tree, rip her panties off and fuck her as she screamed and squirmed under his body. The rough bark would bite into his hands where he braced them, but he wouldn’t care, would be unable to stop…

  The sound of panting filled his ears, and it took him a second to realize it was him, his breathing coming mostly from arousal and not exertion.

  Find your woman.

  Fuck your woman.

  The sentences became a never-ending loop in his head, reverberating through every cell in his body, commanding him, working him into a frenzy. He didn’t even need to look at the disturbed snow—he could smell her, so close, so close, soclosesoclosesoclose…

  He broke free from the stand of trees. Her ski suit made her into a target of puffy pink, small and defenseless in the huge backyard of the cottage. Like any good predator, he made sure she heard him too late. By the time she started to turn, he was in mid-leap. She could only get out a tiny squeak before he tackled her to the ground.

  Somehow, though he was in his frenzied state, he managed to keep her landing soft, cradling a hand under her head so she wouldn’t smack it against the snow, shifting his weight so he didn’t land on her.

  He kissed her, his desperation and need a living thing, uncaring that she still wore a ski mask, uncaring that she was bundled in layers of slick outerwear.

  She kissed him back eagerly, but it was the cold lips under his that made him draw back, reason entering his mind for the first time since he’d caught her scent.

  “Inside,” he said roughly.

  With the ski mask on, all he could see was her wild eyes and her lax, wet mouth. She grabbed him by the sides of his face and brought him down to kiss her again.

  He complied, surprised and hard. Was she as excited by this chase as he was? It was the slight touch of wetness on his wrist where his glove had separated from his jacket sleeve that brought him back to the world.

  “Too cold,” he rumbled, and moved off her despite her grasping arms.

  He hoisted her to her feet and glanced at the house. Eli was inside there.

  Good. Make him watch you take her. Maybe he doesn’t know yet that she’s yours. Force him to admit it.

  Taylor shook his head, trying to shove the vicious thoughts out. Images bombarded him again, even more dark and dirty, of Eli holding Ana still for his penetration. Fucking his wife’s mouth while the other man ate out her cunt, both of them driving her wild with pleasure.

  No! No. He’d never treat her like that.

  “Taylor, please, fuck me here. I need you so bad.”

  The dirty word coming from his wife’s sweet lips drove him even further into his dangerously borderline feral state. If she had had his higher body temperature, she probably could have easily been fucked into a snowbank, but she didn’t. And he feared what would happen if he did take her to the house to find Eli there.

  So he hoisted her into a fireman’s carry, ignoring her yelp of surprise, and made way for the huge storage shed. Despite its humble name, the space was large and neat, and most importantly, it kept the cold out.

  After he entered, he set her on her feet on the concrete floor and gave her a terse order. “Strip.”

  Soft shoulders and dangerous curves…

  Whirlpool

  © 2010 Vivian Arend

  Forces of Nature, Book 2

  Braden can’t deny he’s always wanted Chelsea, but getting involved wouldn’t be fair. She has college and big dreams ahead of her—he has no desire to leave Jaffrey’s Cove. Plus, there’s the fact merfolk women often take more than one lover. Share her? Not in this lifetime.

  When Chelsea’s pl
ans for the future fall apart, the only bright spot remaining is Sheriff Braden Marley. She’s been angling for a shot at the gentle giant’s heart—and the rest of him—for a long time. Except he not only holds her at a maddening arm’s length, he somehow manages to keep other men away, too.

  Enter Jamie Powell, a human marine archeologist who’s in town for a cataloging project. His instant chemistry with Chelsea inspires her to try a sexy new tactic: make Braden jealous enough to stop dragging his feet and start leaving his shoes under her bed.

  The ensuing storm generates a boatload of complications none of them saw coming. A forbidden attraction no amount of merfolk magic can erase. And the danger that their secrets could be exposed to the outside world…

  Warning: Seductive shimmering lights, a sexy interlude on the strip club floor, mysterious Spanish lovers, and a trio caught in an eddy of intense sexual attraction. Swim at your own risk.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Whirlpool:

  Chelsea licked her lips and let her head fall to the side. Braden kissed his way down her neck, nuzzling behind her ear. Her nipples tightened, one breast held cupped in Braden’s hand, framed like an exotic work of art.

  Desire threaded through Jamie, then one seam at a time yanked apart his inhibitions.

  “Hmm, yes. Feels so good, Braden. Touch me, love me. I need it, need Jamie too.” Her husky voice beckoned him, the sound swirling through the room, and Jamie grew lightheaded. The desire to join them, to touch and caress every part of the beautiful woman before him grew irresistible.

  He wanted her. It was the plain and simple truth. Jamie lifted his gaze to take in Braden’s towering frame, watching the two of them move in a beautiful symmetry together. Smooth, sensual.

  So be it. In spite of not completely understanding all the whys, he was willing to accept it for now and figure the details out later.

  They met in the middle of the bed and all his saved-up passion broke free. Jamie kissed Chelsea like his life depended on it. Her sweet tongue tangled with his, their naked torsos touching, the tight tips of her nipples hard against his chest. She caressed his shoulders, dragged her fingers through his hair, tugging harder as the intensity of the kiss increased.

  Braden joined them. He’d stripped off his shirt and the bare skin of his arm brushed Jamie’s side as they trapped Chelsea between them.

  She moaned with delight. “Oh yes, this is what I needed.”

  The breathless confession did something to Jamie’s heart. He’d desired her before all the chaos of the day, and for whatever reason he was receiving this gift, he was going to treasure it.

  He glanced over her shoulder to see Braden smiling at him. “It really is what we want. She needs us both right now.”

  Jamie nodded, staring with fascination at the centers of Braden’s eyes. Blue flecks of light reflected back at him. I know what you are, man of mythology. The temptation to reach over and kiss Braden no longer frightened him. Passion erased his habit of analyzing.

  Chelsea wiggled impatiently between them, and Jamie willingly turned back. He sat on the bed to worship her breasts, laving her nipples, nibbling along the soft under curve. Braden slipped a hand over her belly and between her legs, parting the pale curls of her mound to play with her clitoris. He slid his fingers in and out of her passage. Jamie watched everything as he worked his way down her body, needing to taste her as the scent in the room increased.

  “Braden, give me room.”

  Two men making love to one woman—he’d never done this before. There were points of juggling limbs he’d never realized. Braden switched his hold, bringing his hand between Chelsea’s legs from behind. As Braden eased his fingers back into her sheath, Jamie covered her with his mouth, teasing her clit with his tongue. Her flavor filled him, made his head spin. He reached down and circled his cock with a fist, holding off to make sure Chelsea was satisfied before he grew too tempted.

  They worked in tandem, Jamie matching the pace of Braden’s thrusts. Slow now, then quicker, until she cried out, her body quivering between them. Heated liquid rushed his tongue as he lapped, dragging his tongue against her folds. Braden pressed in, again and again, prolonging her climax. Jamie’s tongue brushed Braden’s fingers as the other man slowly circled her clitoris, teasing the still-quivering flesh under his fingers. Chelsea sighed heavily as she leaned back, supported by Braden’s torso, her skin flushed.

  Jamie held on to his control by a thread, his aching cock reminding him he wanted much, much more.

  “You’re amazing, Chelsea, so beautiful.” Braden kissed her neck.

  “Please…”

  The tormented need in her voice made Jamie put aside his caution. No longer waiting to see what Braden would do, he rolled her to the mattress and covered her with his body. Skin to skin, her warmth felt so right under him. He closed his eyes for just a second to appreciate it fully.

  He kissed her again, this time a slow and thorough exploration. Tongues and lips and open mouths. He breathed her in and the darkness and fears he’d experienced all faded away. She was right. It was a celebration—of life and love and a passion that had been far too long unanswered.

  The stroke of a hand down his back reminded him Braden was still with them, and yet…he couldn’t stop. All his focus was on Chelsea, on the pleasure he found in her, the pleasure he wanted to bring her.

  “You should see what I see.” Braden’s deep voice rustled through the air. He touched them both, his hands skimming Jamie’s side. Hovering where Jamie cupped Chelsea’s breast. The contrast of their fair skin and Braden’s darker coloring—his rougher, beefier hands—showed clearly. “You two look like erotic Greek statues, porcelain fine and breathtakingly beautiful.”

  Chelsea laughed softly as she snaked out an arm to catch Braden around the neck. “And you’re Poseidon, rising from the sea to love us both?”

  “Hmm, it’s not difficult to love you, baby.” He kissed her, lowering himself to lie skin to skin against Jamie’s side. Jamie watched in fascination until Chelsea squirmed under him, pressing her breast up into his hand, and he shifted to be able to reach her easier. He nibbled and licked, listening to the soft noises of pleasure she made, hearing Braden’s whispered words of love.

  Then a hand cupped his own neck, threading through his hair. Braden took control of him and turned their faces toward each other.

  “I want to taste you.” Braden paused, and Jamie’s heart leapt to his throat. Slowly, inch by inch, Braden approached. He gave ample time to retreat, but Jamie wanted this. Wanted it as much as he wanted the woman lying under him.

  With a satisfied hum, Braden brought their mouths in contact. Rougher, more forceful than touching Chelsea, but just as right. Jamie ignored everything else and simply felt—the caress of Chelsea’s hands as she explored his back, the harsher touch of Braden callused hand trailing over Jamie’s lower back and buttocks. The softness of her body under him as she opened her legs and he nestled tighter between her thighs. The curls on her mound were wet from his mouth and her juices, and they coated his cock as he rocked his hips slowly. He was enveloped by both of them. Surrounded and satisfied.

  He’d never had such a rich and full experience before in his life and he reveled in it.

  “I want you. Want you now.” Chelsea pressed upward, her rigid nipples hard against his chest.