Lola’s life is filled with mysteries. Why did her parents abandon her as a baby? What’s behind the baffling blackouts she suffers and the frightening images she creates while she’s out? Who is the strange woman claiming to hold the answers – and why does she say Lola has a life or death mission to perform?
Morgan has a few mysteries of his own. What was his father going to give him on the day he died, the gift he said would change Morgan’s life? Who is this bewitching woman who passes out upon meeting him and creates pictures of his past and future?
And was she really sent to save his life or is she in need of psychiatric help?
All they both know is that from the moment they meet a bond is formed and it is stronger and more passionate than anything either has ever known. And that fate has brought them together for a very important reason.
If only they knew what it was..
Chris slid off his stool, signaling to the bartender to bring his beer to a booth across from the door. He and Morgan claimed the booth. He propped his elbows on the table. “So give. What’s up?”
Morgan sighed and slumped against the wooden back of the booth, his fingers twirling the untouched bottle of beer. “Today’s my dad’s birthday.”
“How long’s he been dead?” Chris asked.
“Since my twelfth birthday,” Morgan replied, feeling a twinge of anxiety talking about it.
“Fuck, man, he died on your birthday? That sucks. What happened? Heart attack?”
“He died trying to save a baby from a wrecked camper.”
Chris looked away, clearly uncomfortable at the sudden welling of tears in Morgan’s eyes. Morgan swiped his hand over his face and pushed himself up straight. No way was he going to blubber in a bar in front of his friend.
“He was a hero,” Chris said quietly.
Morgan nodded. Maybe he was. Only he hadn’t saved anyone. Not only had he died with the baby in his arms, the mother had died as well. So in the end, he’d given his life for nothing. Morgan supposed that was what cut so deep. If either of the people had lived then at least his father’s heroics would have been for something. As it was, it was a waste of a life, leaving Morgan’s mother without a husband and him without a father.
And, Morgan suspected, leaving him with something he’d never known how to deal with. Three days after his father’s death, something had happened to Morgan. Something he could not explain, or understand. And something that still scared him.
“Well, hey now.” Chris’ voice drew his attention away from his own fears and demons. Chris nodded in the direction of the door. “Isn’t that Kelly?”
Morgan cut his eyes over at the door. It looked like the same woman, but he wasn’t sure. He guessed she hadn’t made that big of an impression on him. Certainly not as big as the one she’d made on Chris.
She looked up and caught him and Chris watching. “Oops,” Chris mumbled and threw up his hand in greeting with a welcoming smile.
Morgan nodded but made no move to invite her and her friend, who stood behind her blocked from sight, over to their booth. He didn’t have to. Chris was already on his feet headed in their direction.
With a curse, Morgan pushed the beer away from him, looking in the direction Chris had gone. Chris had one hand on the Kelly’s arm at the elbow, leading her toward their booth. The second woman trailed behind.
“Hey, look who I found,” Chris announced. “Kelly, you remember Morgan?”
“Yeah, hey, Morgan.” Kelly’s greeting was not all that warm. That didn’t surprise Morgan. He had said he’d call her.
“Have a seat,” Chris offered and slid in across from Morgan.
Kelly looked from him to Morgan, and then slid in beside Chris. Morgan slid over as the second woman stepped closer. He looked up and suddenly the lights dimmed. Or his vision dimmed. Something dimmed because his peripheral vision vanished. It was like looking through a tunnel. And dead in the center of that tunnel was a set of eyes from a dream.
He nearly stopped breathing. It wasn’t possible. Images flooded his mind, blinding him to reality.
She stood before the opened window, the wind blowing the flimsy fabric of her unfastened robe so that it swirled around her like light. Backlit by the moonlight from the window, she was but a silhouette of womanly curves and billowing long hair.
Slowly, she walked toward him. She stopped at the edge of the bed. He could make out her eyes, saw desire shining in their depths. His heart beat faster and his breath quickened. His dick swelled to full erection beneath the sheet.
“I’m here for you,” she whispered.
“What does that mean?” he asked.
“Whatever you want it to,” she replied and sat on the bed beside him, running her hand down his sheet-covered body to his erection. “Do you want me, Morgan?”
“Then take me.”
He pulled her down to him, her long hair creating a sweet fragrant tent around their faces as her lips met his. Her taste was sweet, intoxicating. His tongue plundered her mouth, his teeth nipped at her tongue, captured her full lower lip to bite softly.
She moaned and climbed atop him. He could feel the wet heat of her sex through the sheet. It was a delicious torment, feeling her grind on him, unable to sink into her. The kiss was unending. At first passive, she became the aggressor, exploring his mouth, tasting him.
He flipped her over on her back and suddenly her face was visible to him, framed by the dark halo of her silky hair. With the light slanting across her, he beheld her beauty.
“I want you,” she whispered. “Inside me. Please.”
No further encouragement was needed. Ripping the sheet away, he parted her legs, gripping her behind each knee to spread her. She moaned as he penetrated her in one slow stroke and one of her hands worked its way down her body. Her fingers worked at the bud of her clit as he watched in lascivious fascination, pumping into her stronger and harder.
The onset of a climax threatened. He tried to slow, but she wouldn’t let him. She bucked up against him. “More, give me more.”
Reality abruptly returned when Kelly’s friend shrugged out of her jacket, turning her head to look at him as she tossed it across the back of the booth. Her face drained of color and the next thing he knew, her eyes rolled back, she went limp and hit the floor.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Happily-ever-after is something Ciana believes in with her whole heart. Love may be a bumpy road and there’s bound to be some perils along the way but in the end love should win. She tries to take that attitude into her writing and thinks that love, hope and laughter are some of the best medicine there is.
Along with books.
She loves to hear from readers and the most important thing she thinks she can ever say is – “thank you. To every reader who has spent his or her hard-earned reading dollars on a Ciana Stone book, thank you from the bottom of my heart.”