Once in a Blue Moon: Beaux Rêve Coven, Book 1 (8 page)

He cupped her cheeks, stroked a thumb over her bottom lip and then bent and pressed his mouth against hers.

She opened, inviting the slide of his tongue. She coaxed him deeper, sucking on him, grinding her mouth against his. When he pulled away, they were both breathing hard.

He reached for the faucet and gave it a whirl, not tearing his gaze from hers. He slid back the glass door and walked her out, gripping her waist to set her on the counter.

She wrapped her legs around his waist and leaned back on her hands, glancing down to where he was fitting himself against her folds. So thick. So strong. More beast than man there. Perfect.

“Troll,” she whispered.

His gaze darted to her face, his brows pulling together in a questioning frown.

“I love you. All of you.”

His expression darkened. His nostrils flared, pupils enlarging to consume the irises, and then a greenish glow began to pulse. “I love you too, witch,” he growled.

With his strong hands clutching her hips to hold her still, he filled her with a single, thrilling thrust.

Bryn tossed back her hair and squeezed herself around him, daring her green-eyed troll with her eyes to give her everything he had. She could take him. All of him.

Epilogue

Bryn and her sisters were hurrying. They’d promised to provide the food for the celebration of the bridge opening, but wrangling witches was like herding cats—impossible.

Aoife arrived late at Bryn’s. She was having a hard time that morning figuring out which dress made her look less fat, the blue or the green? Then she worried that both matched her eye color too closely. “Will they think I’m vain if I match my dress to my eyes?” she asked, holding up both hangers beside her face. “Maybe I should go back home and get the pink.”

“No!” Bryn said, gripping her waist and turning her toward the bathroom. “Wear the blue. Guys won’t notice the color of your dress—just that your ass looks nice. The blue hugs it.” As the door closed, Bryn closed her eyes. “Did you even remember to bring the deviled eggs?” she shouted through the door.

“They’re on the front seat of my car.”

Bryn went to the parlor door and pushed it open. “Renn!” she shouted.

He came at a lope. “What do you need?”

“Aoife left a tray of deviled eggs on her front seat.”

“Got it.” He loped away.

“I hope like hell they’re still cold.” She turned back to the women still moving franticly around the kitchen that seemed to grow smaller by the minute. “Radha, how’s that chicken?”

Radha set a huge pan topped with foil on the butcher block. “Marinated, ready for the grill.”

“Get it out of here.”

Radha opened the door onto the porch. “I need muscles!”

Khan popped into the opening.

She pointed at the pan. “Make sure this gets to the grill. Don’t let that foil slip. I don’t want flies or dirt in the meat.”

Khan strode to the counter, hefted the pan and paused to bow over it as he locked his gaze with Radha’s. “Your wish, as ever, is my command.”

Radha rolled her eyes even as her cheeks blushed a fiery red. When he was gone, she glanced at Bryn. “I think all that
jinn
eagerness to fulfill my wishes is getting to me.”

Bryn didn’t have time to spare a laugh. “Ladies, gather the salads. We’re late.”

Darcy stacked three dishes and leaned them against her chest, but the moment she stepped onto the porch, the dishes were lifted away. “Hey,” she called after yet another tall, handsome demon. She glanced back at Bryn, her frown easing as a wicked smile curved her mouth. “It’s a little unnerving how they wait around every corner to lend a hand.”

Miren snorted. “It’s because they want to slip their hands under our clothes.”

“No harm in that,” Darcy said, stepping down the stairs. “So long as there’s no echoing goin’ on.” She waggled her eyebrows and sauntered toward the cars.

Miren glanced at Bryn. “Her dance card is full. A different date every night, and sometimes more than one at a time.” Miren shook her head. “She’s asking for trouble.”

Bryn only smiled. “Well, if it’s trouble she wants, let her enjoy it.”

The barbeque beside the river was a huge success. Children ran across the newly completed bridge. Parents tried to keep them from crawling on the girders, but it was too new, too impressive not to be the focal point of everyone’s attention.

“You did yourself proud,” Bryn said, leaning back against Ethan’s chest.

The bridge was a swing bridge, one that moved to the side to allow tall watercraft to pass, something Miren was very appreciative of. If the bridge had been fixed, some of her trawlers would have had to take a longer route through the canals to reach Barataria Bay. And during storms, when the waters rose, the bridge could be moved out of the way of floating debris, making it less likely to ever be swept away again.

“Not still worried that the outside world might find you?”

“I have you. Why should I be worried?”

He moved his hand down to her belly and flattened his palm against the almost imperceptible bump. “I’ve been thinking.”

“Sounds dangerous. Trolls thinking…”

He chuckled. They were both well past taking any affront. Troll and witch were true terms of endearment. “I’ve been thinking, we should marry.”

She angled her head to look up into his face. “We’re already bound. Why do we need a human ceremony?”

“Our child will be going to school with human children here in Bonne Nuit.”

Bryn snorted. “Bonne Nuit doesn’t have a school. It’s not big enough.”

“It will be.” He turned her and looped his arms around the small of her back. “The town’s about to experience a boom.”

“One child is not a boom.”

“Vindlér Construction is moving its headquarters here. That means more houses, more families…”

Her eyes widened. “But you talked about commuting.”

“I don’t like the thought of working so far away. And the rest of the men like it here. We’ve set our sights on a certain plot of land.”

Her eyebrows rose. “The clearing?” The plain was the only place large enough to hold it. “What about our oak?”

“It stays. We won’t encroach too closely. You’ll still be able to dance in the moonlight.”

She smoothed her hands up his chest and around the back of his neck to touch his hair. She dragged her fingertips through it. “You’d do that for us?”

“If you’d like that. If you don’t think we’ll change what this place is to you.”

She lifted on her tiptoes and kissed his mouth. “We’ve talked. All the women were worried about the men drifting away. We didn’t know our isolation was so lonely until you came. I know they’ll be happy. You make us feel safe.”

He held her gaze for a long moment and then nodded. “I’ll make it happen. And you’ll all have a say in how this works. You and your sisters are the center of life here in Bonne Nuit. There’s not a soul, demon or human, who doesn’t know that.” He cleared his throat. “So back to the subject. We should marry.”

Bryn pursed her lips as she considered. “I’ll want Father Guidry to perform the ceremony. He’s a good friend.”

Ethan wrinkled his nose. “A demon marrying in a church?”

Bryn laughed. “It’s too small. But a troll marrying on a bridge—it would be fitting, don’t you think?”

His smile stretched. And as always when she watched him, her heart sped up, happiness and love filling her until she felt a little tearful. Maybe her weepiness was due to the baby. But she’d been truly blessed.

A man in her bed every night to share her troubles and the moonlight. A beast of a lover.

His hand entered her vision with a small velvet box in the center of his palm.

Her heart was so full it nearly burst. “Better not be a diamond,” she muttered. “They’re cold.” She flipped up the lid. A deep, grassy-green emerald set in warm gold winked in the sunlight.

Ethan grinned as she squealed with delight and launched herself at his chest. He lifted her off the ground and twirled with her, laughing. When he set her down, he glanced at Renner, who gave him a thumbs up.

At the sound of Bryn’s joy, the women came running, crowding closely to see the ring. Ethan kept his arm around her, watching over their bent heads, his chest expanding with pride and love. He’d gotten it right. For a troll who’d been born with few opportunities, he’d managed to get a lot right.

He wasn’t fool enough to think that he and his band of outcasts had seen the last of trouble, but for now, they’d keep watch, keep the women safe and continue to build on the promise of the Beaux Rêve coven. A sweet dream indeed.

About the Author

Until recently, award-winning erotica and romance author Delilah Devlin lived in South Texas at the intersection of two dry creeks, surrounded by sexy cowboys in Wranglers. These days, she’s missing the wide-open skies and starry nights but loving her dark forest in Central Arkansas, with its eccentric characters and isolation—the better to feed her hungry muse! For Delilah, the greatest sin is driving between the lines, because it’s comfortable and safe. Her personal journey has taken her through one war and many countries, cultures, jobs and relationships to bring her to the place where she is now—writing sexy adventures that hold more than a kernel of autobiography and often share a common thread of self-discovery and transformation.

To learn more about Delilah Devlin, please visit
www.delilahdevlin.com
. Send an email to
[email protected]
or join her Yahoo! group to enter in the fun with other readers as well as Delilah:
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Undeniable

Lone Star Lovers

Unbridled

Unforgiven

Four Sworn

Breaking Leather

A Four-Gone Conclusion

Reined In

Delta Heat

Five Ways ’Til Sunday

Fournicopia

A Perfect Trifecta

Twice the Bang

Once is Never Enough

The TripleHorn Brand

Laying Down the Law

In Too Deep

A Long, Hot Summer

Coming Soon

Burning Up Memphis

Seeking sanctuary could be the hottest mistake she ever made.

Laying Down the Law

© 2012 Delilah Devlin

The TripleHorn Brand, Book 1

A lifetime ago, Zuri Prescott kicked the dirt off her boots and ditched her small-time small town for the glam city life—and lived to regret it. When she’s framed for a bank job, she lights out for home, seeking refuge with her old high school sweetheart while she figures out her next steps. Only she discovers that the boy she left behind is the last man she should trust.

Sheriff Colt Triplehorn knows trouble when he sees it, especially when it comes in the form of a familiar trespasser, caught naked between an angry bull and her underwear. Sure she’s up to her usual no good, he grants her sanctuary at his ranch—the better to keep an eye on her, and purge her from his system once and for all.

Reconnection is sweet and hot, but the heat can’t hide the truth. When Colt inevitably finds out the truth, it’s too late to put the fire out, and he’s got a career-compromising choice on his hands. Follow the letter of the law, or follow his heart.

Warning: When a sheriff captures the girl who got away, expect revenge so hot it leaves brands on two lonely hearts...

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Laying Down the Law:

Zuri bit back a complaint, wishing he’d quit hovering because he was keeping her on edge. But when he didn’t budge, she dragged her feet to the bed, scooped up the wash-softened cotton and turned toward the bathroom.

“Uh uh,” he said, tsking softly. “My house. My clothes.
My rules
.”

She glanced over her shoulder, not knowing if she’d heard him right, but that same hard challenge he’d issued when he’d demanded the kiss was stamped all over his granite features.

She knew she ought to ignore him and lock herself into the bathroom to dress and gather her scattered wits, but the underlying tension riding the edge of his jaw excited her.

Colt had never been this dominating…except when they had sex. She’d loved it then. Her body seemed to crave it now. Heat bloomed again, winding around her core. A delicious little thrill accelerated her heartbeats.

Without a saying a word, she walked back to the bed and tossed down the clothing. Then keeping her gaze glued to his, she slowly untied the belt and let the robe fall open. With a sexy shrug, she let it slide off her shoulders and pool behind her on the floor.

Colt blinked first. His gaze trailed downward. His throat worked around a tense swallow, and Zuri couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth. He might think he was in charge, but she knew better. Colt liked what he saw.

His quickening breaths were the first clue. The curving of his fists the second. When he opened his stance, just a few inches, she nearly crowed.

Reaching for the cotton pants, she wished she had something sexier to slide inside, then wondered if she’d lost her good sense to think that way. She had enough problems on her plate. But how could she dress and prevent him seeing what this was doing to her? Bending and opening her legs to step into the sweatpants made her feel vulnerable, exposed in a way that just standing there naked hadn’t. “I don’t understand you, or why you’re doin’ this.”

“You don’t know me.”

“I guess that’s true. It’s been a long time.”

“You didn’t know me then.”

She pulled the pants upward, over the curve of her bottom, feeling a little less off-center now that her lower half was hidden from his view. The waist of the pants settled on her hips and she rolled the band to gather up the excess fabric. “Guess that’ll have to do,” she muttered.

As she dragged the T-shirt over her head, she reminded herself why she was here. Definitely not to play games with her ex-boyfriend. She needed a safe place to stay. And she needed to keep Colt clueless until she had a chance to find her car and get rid of the damning evidence before the police found it. Her story might sound a little more believable then.

When she’d pulled the fabric down, fully covering her body, only then did she raise her glance to Colt’s again.

His brows pulled together. “Gonna tell me what’s going on? Why you’re here?”

“I’m a little hungry,” she said, knowing her attempt to stall was completely transparent. “I don’t suppose I could eat first?”

Colt dropped his fists and stepped closer, forcing her chin higher to hold his steady gaze. “If you’re in trouble…”

What? He’d help? She didn’t think so. Colt appeared to be the same inflexible cowboy. He’d always judged a person’s actions as either black or white, right or wrong. No interesting muddying of the colors accepted. She’d forgotten that about him.

She pondered telling him part of the tale, but worried he’d use what he learned to play with her some more. He seemed to like that fact he held the reins.

Zuri licked her lips. “I need a place to stay. Just for a little while.”

His gray eyes, once so warm and open, narrowed. A muscle flexed alongside his jaw.

She waited him out, knowing he wasn’t satisfied with her response. The longer the moment stretched between them, the more uncomfortable she grew. Still holding his steady gaze, she shifted her bare feet, supremely conscious of the fact she wasn’t wearing a stitch of underwear and that his clothing, while freshly laundered, still carried the hint of his unique scent. She was at his mercy. Completely.

Colt inhaled deeply, and then issued a soft, masculine grunt. He reached down and closed his hand around hers, then tugged her closer to the bed. He sat on the edge, staring at their hands before he looked up. “If you stay…you’ll sleep here,” he said, his voice tense and ragged.

Zuri wet her lips with her tongue because her mouth had suddenly gone dry. What he proposed sounded both so…wrong, yet incredibly tempting. She couldn’t get words past her tightening throat. If she could have, she didn’t know whether she would have told him to go to hell or given him a breathless yes. Instead, she squeezed his fingers.

So many thoughts swirled in her mind. Their past, her impossibly complicated present. It sounded so simple. She’d sleep beside him. Make love with him. Maybe she’d even find out that her memories of their being together were painted in rosy hues because she’d been younger, and he’d been her first.

Perhaps in exchange he’d give her clothes and money so that she could make a graceful exit.

Zuri crowded closer to his knees, tilting her chin.

Colt’s lips curved slightly at the corners, and although his gaze remained narrow, he scooted back.

She climbed over his lap, facing him, her thighs sliding over the outside of his, not saying a word, following her instincts although they’d led her down treacherous paths before. She slipped her hand alongside his neck, felt the heavy thrum of his pulse and bent down, her mouth hovering above his. “Think you can keep this uncomplicated, cowboy?”

A deep, throaty groan seeped between his lips, and she leaned into him, settling over the ridge throbbing beneath the placket of his jeans. She could do this. She could take what she wanted from him without losing her heart again. It was just sex.