Walking in Fire: Hawaiian Heroes, Book 1 (29 page)

BOOK: Walking in Fire: Hawaiian Heroes, Book 1
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Orion

Tyger, Tyger, Burning Bryght

Her Commander

Prince of Dragons

Deep Indigo

His beast will have her beauty…but only on his terms.

 

Prince of Dragons

© 2010 Cathryn Cade

 

Orion, Book 3

Sirena Blaze has left a string of smiling males across the galaxy—but she’s not smiling now. After two attempts to sabotage her ship, it’s time to call for backup. Her warriors deserve the best, and that means recruiting a member of the elite Serpentian guard as co-commander.

One look at Slyde Stone, and Sirena’s smile returns. She sets out to indulge in the sensual delights for which his people are legendary.

Slyde would like nothing more than to bed the famous beauty, but a secret binds the hands that burn to take her. He is a half-dragon shifter, a race thought to be nothing more than a myth. He’s real, and so is the code he must live by—he can mate only once.

Sirena’s fury at Slyde’s refusal knows no bounds—until saboteurs loose a pair of deadly serpents on board the
Orion
. And the infuriating man has the gall to make a wager. If she finds them first, she can have him. But if he wins, she must agree to be his alone—for life.

Warning: Space cougar on the prowl, a handsome virgin in her sights. Hot love scenes, and even hotter dragon shape-shifting.
 

 

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Prince of Dragons:
 

Sirena looked down at the naked male straining beneath her and smiled. She might be a siren, but she led males not to disaster, but to pleasure greater than many of them had ever known. And this one wouldn’t forget her any time soon.

“Ah, gods,” he groaned, his hands clamped on her hips as she rode him with sinuous abandon, letting his cock slide nearly out of her before enveloping it once again. His pleasure-glazed eyes were locked with hers. Sweat soaked his short dark hair and gleamed on his skin, enhancing the play of muscle beneath. “That’s so damn good! You are…unbelievable.”

Since he was approaching his third orgasm, she chose to believe him. She herself was far ahead of that number. She supposed this would be his last effort—human males were lucky to be able to achieve arousal more than twice in such a short time.

She rose and fell on him, closing her eyes to enjoy the sensation of the shaft working inside her, stroking her tight channel. Tipping back her head, she lifted her arms and twined them behind her head, knowing that the motion thrust her breasts out more prominently.

Her com-link beeped a tiny warning in her ear. She ignored it as the pilot surged upward, filling his hands with her breasts and suckling greedily on her nipples.

“Mmm, yes. Like that.” The pleasure began to tighten inside her, and she rode harder, feeling her orgasm begin.

Her com-link beeped again. Protocol demanded that whoever was paging her wait for an answer before opening a holo-vid link. She hoped for their sake they abided by the rules, because any commander who opened a link now was going to get an eyeful.

A hologram sprang up in sharp relief against the shadowed stateroom. It was Slyde Stone, watching her ride the other man. His stance was rigid, jaw clenched, his eyes flaming with such heat she was vaguely surprised her skin didn’t burn.

In the two lunar months they’d been working together, they’d been through a major crisis, trained new guards and improved the quality of security on the
Orion
. And through it all, the heat of desire hadn’t faded, and he still refused to act on it.

Her gasp of shock caught in her throat and, as their eyes held, it became a soft, escalating moan as she climaxed harder than she had all night, pleasure imploding deep within her pussy and then exploding outward through her body. Her co-commander’s voyeurism was as delicious as the cock inside her.

By the time she finally managed to open her pleasure-drugged eyes, he was gone.

 

 

A short time later Sirena stepped outside the pilot’s stateroom and stopped short, startled to see her co-commander of the Serpentian guard walking toward her. Walk—such a colorless word to describe the way he moved. He strode, he prowled like the magnificent male creature he was. His tall, heavily muscled body erect and graceful, his beautifully shaped head held high, he surveyed her with narrowed eyes.

His sculpted jaw was still clenched, his nostrils flared. Pushing back her hair, she eyed him cautiously. Great serpents, he wasn’t embarrassed. He was furious.

Perhaps it would teach him a lesson. He could have been the male groaning with pleasure beneath her.

Her own body hummed with satisfaction. She’d left her latest lover sprawled across the bed in the stateroom behind her. He wouldn’t wake for a long time, but when he did, it would be with a smile. As she recalled some of the things he’d done to her and with her, the corners of her mouth curled up with satisfaction.

If she’d sighed, feeling detached even as he groaned his eternal devotion, that was no one’s business but her own. As was the fact she’d come most deliciously of all with Slyde watching them.

“Commander Stone,” she said now, ignoring the way his narrow gaze made her want to touch her flight suit to see if it smoldered. Even after coming several times in the last hours, she still felt the usual low curl of desire at his nearness. But she’d resolved from the beginning that she wouldn’t hang on his sleeve. That was for dewy-eyed ingénues. Let the great beast tell her what was wrong, if he wished.

Otherwise, she was headed straight for a hot shower-dry.

 

Slyde berated himself in savage silence. What had he been thinking to confront Sirena here outside her lover’s door? Nothing coherent, that was certain. Since the instant he first saw her, he’d been thinking mostly with his cock.

After he’d refused her in the bar that first night, he’d seen the fighter pilot preen himself before her. Had known how it would end when the fellow swaggered out of the bar after her. And he’d watched the scene repeated several times in the last two months. The lovely, sensual Sirena was a typical Serpentian, sharing her body with any male she chose. And he was nearing the end of his patience. He’d done his best to show her how well they got along as they trained, planned and worked together, had even resorted to showing off in sparring. But still she turned to other men.

Tonight, he’d overridden a prime rule of courtesy on board ship and opened a com-link between them. He bitterly regretted his decision. Because now he had to do more than imagine the things she allowed her lovers to do to her—the things he dreamed of doing to her, with her, himself.

Now he’d seen her. Her lovely body naked, kneeling astride another male, riding him with perfect, sensual grace. Had seen the other man’s hands on the taut swell of her ass, his mouth on the perfect globes of her breasts.

Now he knew her skin was the same silken gold over her entire body, save for the dusky peach of her nipples and the delicate line of auburn that limned her mons. Knew how those scant curls looked soaked with another man’s seed, how the pink lips of her labia stretched taut around another man’s glistening cock as he drove it in and out of her.

Now he knew her soft, escalating moans as she enjoyed her orgasm. And the look in her eyes as she came, because their eyes had locked and he’d been unable to break away, drowning in those emerald depths.

Controlling his anger with a supreme effort, he stopped before her. Her golden cheeks were flushed, emerald eyes sleepy, her auburn mane tousled. Even the collar of her sleek top was crooked, which she would never allow on duty. It was obvious she’d just come from her lover’s arms. Arms that Slyde wanted to rip off and feed to the bastard.

He grimaced as her fragrances mingled with the stench of another male ripped at his sensitive olfactory glands like rotting Pangaean fruit.

She raised an arching brow at him.

“Commander?” she asked in her throaty voice. “Are you well?”

“That’s a question I might ask you,” he answered, his deep voice as rough as mountain stones grating together. “Were the answer not so obvious.”

She straightened, frowning. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Merely that a shower-dry is in order. You reek of your lover’s sweat.”

“Commander Stone. You forget yourself.”

“Forget?” he sneered. “I’m not the one who has lain with too many lovers to remember.”

She drew in a hiss of pure rage, her emerald eyes going molten.

Good—let her have a taste of the frustrated rage he’d been battling since he laid eyes on her and realized that here was the woman of his dreams—his fervid, tormenting dreams—and that she would never be his… unless she agreed to his terms, which she was unlikely to do. Why should she, when she could enjoy any male she chose, for as long as she chose, instead of pledging herself to just one?

“I presume you had an important reason for following me?” she asked with dangerous softness. “And for spying on me?”

“It will wait,” he bit out.

He’d come on this voyage to look for a woman—a far different kind of woman. The kind who’d saved herself for marriage and who was chaste. Instead, he’d taken one look across that hellhole of a bar on Solaria and fallen like a space rock for this beauty, a warrior who could fell a man as easily with a kick or a look—and did both with regularity.

He turned his back on her before she could reply and before he could do what he really wanted: throw her over his shoulder, carry her off to his quarters and toss her in his shower-dry until she’d been through three or more cleaning cycles. And then…imprint his own touch and scent on her, so thoroughly she would never want another.

Slamming through an open hatchway, he raced down one of the many small spiral staircases, not caring where it led as long as it was away from her and what he wanted of her.

How far into darkness will he go to reclaim the light?

 

Interview with a Gargoyle

© 2011 Jennifer Colgan

 

Melodie McConnell’s night shift couldn’t get any more bizarre. First, a commotion behind the bakery lands her in the arms of a slimy demon. Then she’s swept into hiding by a demon hunter…and discovers she’s been swallowed whole by a world she never knew existed.

In the decade since he inherited a centuries-old family curse, darkness has ruled Blake DeWitt’s life. By day he’s encased in the form of a hideous stone gargoyle. By night, desperation drives him to search for the Witch’s Cabochon, a gem with the power to permanently lift the curse.
 

He’s seconds away from claiming it when the dying demon transfers it to a human woman whose beautiful body is no match for its wild, darkly sexual power. And whose innocent attempts at seduction he finds hard to resist.
 

As the demons swarm closer, they find safety in each other’s arms. Until Blake discovers the only key to his freedom…and must face a soul-rending choice.

Warning: Take two parts demons, one part demon hunter, one part witch, and a heaping helping of sexy gargoyle. Spontaneous combustion may occur. At least you won’t need to wait for the oven timer to enjoy!

 

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Interview with a Gargoyle:

“Run! Get out of here while you can.” Palmer’s strangled command stopped Melodie halfway around the front display counter. She skidded to a halt and glanced back over her shoulder. DeWitt had Palmer by the stretchy collar of his T-shirt and was lifting his linebacker body about a foot off the floor.

Ignoring Palmer’s gasping and his ineffectual kicks, DeWitt turned his predatory gaze on Mel. “I only want the jewel. Don’t make me hurt him to prove how desperate I am.”

And there went her escape plan. In a strange way, Palmer had saved her life, and weird as he was, she couldn’t let him suffer on her account. “Jewel? You’re looking for a jewel?” Why hadn’t he just said so in the first place?

“The Cabochon is a cursed jewel. It will bring you nothing but tragedy. Hand it over to me, and you’ll escape its curse.”

“Ah, okay. I think I know what you’re talking about. The Gogmar gave me something in the alley, right before he…died.”

Tortured eyes searched hers, and she had the distinct impression he could see into her soul. The oddly naked feeling made her shiver.

“It
gave
you the Cabochon?”

“It gave me a sapphire. Now, put Palmer down gently, and I’ll give it to you if you promise to leave us alone, okay?”

She made a “down boy” gesture with both hands.

“If you give me the Cabochon, I promise, you’ll never see me again.”

That seemed reasonable to Mel, but apparently not to Palmer, who still dangled in midair.

“Don’t do it, Melodie. He’s pure evil. He’ll kill us both if we give him what he wants.”

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