 
Hearts Aflame Collection VI: 4-Book Bundle

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2014 by Melissa F. Hart. All rights reserved worldwide.

No part of this book may be replicated, redistributed, or given away in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, without the prior written consent of the author/publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental

http://www.melissafhart.com/

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Table of Contents

The Storm to Come

L - Chapter One

L - Chapter Two

L - Chapter Three

L - Chapter Four

L - Chapter Five

L - Chapter Six

L - Chapter Seven

Western Temptation

W - Chapter One

W - Chapter Two

W - Chapter Three

W - Chapter Four

W - Chapter Five

The Sexy Teacher (Spreading my Wings - Part 1 of 5)

Schoolyard Bully

B - CHAPTER ONE

B - CHAPTER TWO

B - CHAPTER THREE

B - CHAPTER FOUR

B - CHAPTER FIVE

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The Storm to Come

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Synopsis

Apple and Bellaron have settled into a quiet existence, though with a baby on the way and super villains to fight, there's always plenty going on. In the blink of an eye, however, a peaceful day turns into the beginning of a terrible battle, one that will endanger the entire city. Bellaron must face an ancestral foe, and Apple does what she can to save the people around her.

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Chapter One

Apple's studio was organized, with all of her tools and all of the scrap metal she used to make her sculptures kept in their own spaces, but there was a certain amount of grunge, soot and dirt that was simply inescapable when you welded enormous sculptures for a living. Apple herself certainly didn't mind, as she was dressed for a day of work, but as things got more and more heated between her and her husband, she found herself more worried about his outfit.

"Bellaron, you're going to get filthy," she protested, as he pulled her against him. She was in jeans and a rather ancient protective shirt, and he was dressed in a nice pair of slacks and the expensive button-downs he preferred.

"Do you think I care even a little?" he asked, amused. "Do you think I'm really thinking about how clean my damned clothing is going to stay when you look like that right in front of me?"

"I look like a chimney sweep," she retorted, trying to pull away while not getting her sooty hands on his clothing.

"You smell like heaven," he said, putting his face to her neck and inhaling deeply. "You smell like a woman who makes art that enlightens the world, like a woman who works hard for her living. You smell like a woman carrying my child."

From another man, it would have been sheer flattery, but Apple knew that from Bellaron, it was nothing but the truth. The people of his home planet of Naith were not werewolves, but they were something similar. In the heat of battle, he could transform into something like an enormous wolf, and Apple, the inheritor of the light of Naith, his destroyed planet, could use a sacred book known as the Psalms of Istarte to transform him into other fighting beasts as well.

It came as no surprise to her that with his alien senses, he could detect things like her work, her sweat, even the child inside her. For a moment, she lovingly cupped her hands over her stomach, where her child was just beginning to show. She had never thought of becoming a mother, and in fact, when she had realized she was going to be, her first thought was panic. Over the past three months, though, she had come around, and now she couldn't wait to meet her baby.

Her head was full of tender thoughts, and that was when Bellaron took advantage of her distraction to lift her away from the metal and tools that she had been working with.

"Bellaron!"

"I don't care about these clothes," he said, enunciating carefully. "I don't give a damn about them, and if I need to prove it, I will strip them from my body and use your torch to set them alight. Do you need me to do that?"

Apple's mouth watered at the thought of him completely naked, and she abruptly decided that if he didn't care, neither did she.

"All right then," she said, stepping back from him and putting her hands on her hips. "Show me what you like, my prince."

The bright gleam in his eyes was all the warning she got, and then he was on her, kissing her mouth with an almost fevered insistence.

"I don't care if I never wear clothes again," he promised in her ear. "Though I would much prefer it if you didn't"

She giggled as he stripped her shirt over her head and removed her bra soon after. She stood still, allowing him to worship every inch of her, from the nipples of her large breasts to the generous curve of her belly. She was not a small woman, and he loved every curve of her, from the soft flesh of her flanks and her back to the swell of her hips, and he took his time, biting and squeezing until her sighs turned hot and fevered.

Only then did he reach for the buttons of her jeans, pushing them down and revealing a pair of lacy black panties. He stroked her mound a few times through the fabric, smiling as she squirmed and whimpered. She was shaved bare, but there was just a tender prickle of new growth there that she knew he loved.

"I want you," he muttered. "Will you get on the floor?"

"Not like I'm going to get any dirtier," she retorted, and she dropped to her knees, turning around.

She hesitated for a moment, because the floor was cement and indeed as filthy as she had told him it was, but then she shrugged and crouched down, making sure that her knees were cushioned by her jeans, which were still half on.

For a moment, she was struck by the vulnerability of her position. She was half naked, on the dirty cement floor of her studio, and when she looked down, her round white arms made a vivid contrast to the smooth cement floor. Even the hardness of the floor against her elbows was a sensual thing, and she arched her back, dipping her belly to the floor and raising her buttocks up higher.

Behind her, she heard Bellaron chuckle as he knelt behind her.

"Something went through your mind right then," he noted, coming up behind her. "Something really got to you. I could smell your desire swell and...."

She shivered as he eased her panties down her thighs. His fingers were warm when they touched her slit, and now even she could smell her own arousal.

"And look at how wet you are, you dirty little thing." There was nothing but love in his voice, and she shuddered deeply. That was what she loved, the contrast between being crouched down for him, half-dressed in the middle of her studio, and the intense love and respect she knew he had for her.

"More of that," she whispered, pressing her hips back toward him. "More of that, tell me more."

He chuckled, but his laugh was a little strained, and she felt the heat of his hard cock press hard against her hip, just teasing for now.

"Oh, do you want to be told what a filthy girl you are?" he asked, his voice dark and with a slight hint of menace. There was a danger there that she knew wasn't real, but still it called out something primal in her. Yes, she wanted to be dirty, she wanted to be used, and oh god above, she loved him so much...

"Yes, yes," she moaned. She tried to spread her legs wider, but her jeans prevented her from doing so.

"That's right, look at you, on the floor for me, with your ass up in the air. That's what you like, isn't it, darling?"

A soft caress against the cheek of her rear turned into a brisk spank, and the sound of flesh hitting flesh and her startled yelp echoed throughout the room.

"Oh!"

"You love that too," he taunted, rubbing the affected spot before spanking her again.

"You love being on your knees, and you love getting your ass spanked, don't you, dear?"

She squirmed and whimpered, and every word out of her mouth was _yes, yes, yes._ She rocked back and forth as his hand came down again and again, peppering her soft flesh with blows that turned her pale skin bright red. When he stopped to rake his blunt nails over the inflamed skin of her rear, her moan was deep and needing, and finally, she turned her head to look at him pleadingly.

"Please don't make me wait any more, Bellaron. I'm ready, I'm so ready..."

"Mmm, I'm not sure I could wait any longer either, love," he purred.

She sighed, dropping her head to her hands as he started to push the tip of his cock into her wet folds. Since becoming pregnant, she was more sensitive than she had been before, even slightly tighter, and this part of their play had become a little more careful. Instead of pounding into her immediately as he would have before, now he only rocked into her, entering her slowly and a little more deeply with every thrust.

"Is that all right, dear?" he whispered, and she nodded, almost incoherent with the pleasure of being filled with such care and such gentleness.

In a matter of moments, he was all the way inside, and for a moment, they simply stayed still, allowing her to become accustomed to the way that he was stretching her.

His hands on her hips were gentle, and he leaned some of his weight over her back, kissing her bare skin tenderly.

"Yes?" he asked, his voice breathless, and she nodded.

"Yes and always, my love," she replied, and he started to thrust.

This was different than the mad joinings that had characterized the earlier parts of their courtship, when they couldn't keep their hands off of each other. She had left deep scratches on his back when he brought her to climax, and she had felt a pleasant soreness between her legs for hours after each encounter. Now there was no pain at all, but the passion was still there, and as he surged into her, she felt the deep wellness in her soul that she was exactly where she was meant to be, with precisely the right man who loved every part of her.

"You're so beautiful," he muttered. "So very, very beautiful, my love."

She moaned a response, and then that moan took a deeper note when his hand slid around her hip to find her clit. His clever fingers toyed with it, sending shocks of pleasure down her legs and making her shiver. He continued thrusting inside her, setting a rhythm to their pleasure that thudded along with her heartbeat, and the two sensations together started to stretch her, to bring her pleasure to a thunderous climax.

Behind her, Apple could feel her husband pushing into her with greater insistence. He wanted her, he needed her, and she could tell that he was on the verge of climaxing, but still he held back.

"You first," he whispered, and that was all it took for her to explode into shooting stars and fireworks, the sensations sweeping over her body and drawing a sharp scream past her clenched teeth. Bellaron thrust one more time into her, harder and more sharply than he had before. She could feel his cock jerk inside her, and she was filled with his cum, a sensation that only added to the riot of things she was feeling.

Her orgasm drew out, and when she was finally shuddering in the aftershocks, she felt him ease out of her. With a sigh, she slowly slumped down on her side and then her back, her legs still tangled up in her jeans. The cold cement floor felt frigid to her buttocks, which had already lost most of the sting from the spanking, but she didn't care.

"You're going to get dirty," Bellaron pointed out, kneeling above her. She loved him like this, looking down at her with his hair mussed and his clothes disheveled. When he buttoned up his trousers, she had a brief pang that there was not more time for another round.

"I don't care," she sighed, stretching out on the floor. After a moment, she pulled her panties and her jeans back on before reaching for her discarded bra.

"I'm just about done here for the day anyway," she said. "Give me a ride home to clean up before you go to work?"

He nodded, offering her a hand up. He couldn't resist a final lingering kiss dropped on her mouth, but when she gave him a playful shove, he escorted her to the car.

Chapter Two

In addition to his work as one of the superheroes of Colossal City, Bellaron also owned The Hunt, one of the most exclusive restaurants in the city. He had spent most of the last few years as the executive chef at The Hunt, but his work for the city and his time with Apple drew him away. While he was still there most nights, he had been talking about training up a replacement in the kitchen, allowing him more time to himself.

They drove in companionable silence to the apartment that they shared, an attractive brownstone on the same block as the restaurant, and Apple stripped to the skin, gratefully depositing her clothes in the hamper.

He graciously gave her the first shower, and when she emerged, dripping wet and clean, she shoved him playfully when he reached for her again.

"Shower first," she teased, "and then we'll see if you have time for more when you get out."

"Mmm, I'll be fast," he promised.

She stretched out on the king-sized bed that they shared, luxuriating in the thick, fluffy comforters. Creature comforts like this had been foreign to her when she was still a struggling artist, but now, with her art career taking off and living with the man who owned one of the most prestigious restaurants in the city, all of that had changed. Somehow, she was never quite convinced of her own personal Cinderella story, but she woke up next to the reality of it every day.

Idly, she turned on the television, looking for something to keep her occupied while she waited for her husband to emerge from the shower, but what she saw made her eyes widen.

"Bellaron!"

Her shout made her husband burst out of the bathroom, soaking wet and spraying water everywhere. Even naked, he was ready for battle, and it took him a moment to calm down when he realized that there were no invaders in the home and that Apple was not hurt.

"Love, what's the matter?"

She pointed a shaking finger to the television, which showed a very familiar face.

Vicky Campbell, action reporter and one of the most famous journalists in the city, was more than just a respected member of the local news program. She was the wife of the superhero, the Ghost, and over the past few months of interacting with the superheroes of Colossal City, Apple had come to know many of them and their spouses. She counted Vicky as her friend, and now she was in serious fear for her friend's life.

The scene at Ardaway Park, the enormous green area at the heart of the city, was one of barely controlled chaos. There were three enormous ships stationed above the trees, and the winds from their engines whipped the greenery around as strongly as a hurricane.

Vicky was hanging on to her microphone like grim death, and she stood obviously braced against the force of the wind.

"We're still uncertain right now as to what these visitors mean and what they intend for us," she was saying, "and according to Mayor McIntyre's orders, the park has been evacuated. Even now, though, I can see stragglers trying to get away, and yet there is still no sign of any contact from within these ships..."

"Do you recognize those ships?" Apple whispered.

Bellaron shot her an amused look. "Do you know the make and model of the cars commonly driven by people in Uzbekistan?" he asked. "I traveled the galaxy, darling, I didn't stop and study ships while I did it." Bellaron shook his head. "They could merely be curious about Earth. Perhaps they are even a diplomatic corps. Still and all, though, I should be down there."

"In case things go poorly?"

"Exactly," he agreed, planting a kiss on her mouth. "Do not worry, darling. I'll be there, and if Vicky is there, that means that Bryan can't be far behind."

Bryan Hillman was the millionaire alter ego of the Ghost, but he had often claimed that more important than either was his position as Vicky Campbell's husband. The thought of that gentle man going into danger as well made Apple's heart clench, but she knew that both Bryan and Bellaron were more than fit to handle anything the world threw at them.

"Be safe," she said, pressing a hand to her belly. "Please."

"I'll be fine," he promised. "Look, you can even watch on television, see?"

He gave her another kiss on the cheek, and before Apple could reply, he swung himself out on their fire escape and leaped. Before he hit the ground, he was an enormous gray wolf, leggy and powerful, and he started the run to the park.

Apple told herself that there was nothing to be worried about, and she dressed quickly, putting on a clean pair of jeans and a T-shirt, before sitting back down to watch.

Vicky and her camera crew were edging ever closer to the ships, and Apple could see the powerful curiosity that motivated everything that Vicky did. She was a tall lean woman with a mane of black, black hair, and her grace and beauty often made Apple feel just a little dumpy and plain. They had taken to each other like ducks to water though, and now Apple watched, heart in her throat as Vicky drew closer to first contact with whoever was in the ship.

Just as she was almost directly in front of the first ship, lights lit up along the edges, and that pattern of light was terrifyingly to Apple.

"No..." she whispered, and the lights dialed faster.

On the screen, Vicky tensed, and that was before two lasers spat out from the ship, obliterating trees on either side of the intrepid reporter.

Vicky shouted once and the camera rocked, but Apple was on her knees, clutching her belly and staring in shock.

"No, no, no," she moaned.

She was the light of Naith, the last part of a destroyed planet that had followed Bellaron to Earth. She held the memories and the spirit of the entire planet, and now, her memory was telling her in no uncertain terms that those lights brought destruction and chaos and death.

Even as Vicky staggered to her feet, a hatch on the lead ship opened and the being that floated down looked every inch like an angel out of Biblical legend.

He was naked except for a white linen kilt wrapped around his waist, and the wings that sprouted from his back were broad and beautifully white. There was an eerie perfection to his features that Apple could see as the brave cameraman zoomed in, and something utterly unforgiving about the angel's perfection.

That was how they had looked before they destroyed an entire planet, Apple knew, and she started to shake.

Vicky, who had no idea, drew closer to the angel, and for a moment, he smiled at her.

She started to speak, but then the angel took her arm in what looked like an easy grasp. From the way that Vicky struggled, however, a sharp cry escaping her lips, it was as if she had been trapped in an iron grasp.

"We are looking for the Psalms of Istarte," he said, his voice clear and cold. "We will not stop until we have it, and this woman will be the first to die."

Apple tore herself away from the television, her heart beating like a rabbit's. Her eyes went straight to the secret safe in the wall where the precious book was hidden, and she lunged for it, pressing the button that made the wall slide away to reveal the safe and then pressing the combination in with shaking fingers.

She could use it to transform her husband into any manner of terrifying animals, and now, with the angels here and searching, she had to get it to him at all costs.

For a moment, she touched her belly, apologizing to her unborn baby for what was about to happen, and she shoved her feet into her sneakers and headed for the door.

Chapter Three

The streets of Colossal City were chaos, and Apple would never have made much headway if she hadn't known the city well. She skipped the main streets, and instead dodged through the alleys and side streets.

She was getting closer and closer, but she did not expect to be found before she even came to the park itself.

"There she is!"

The cry startled her, and when she looked up, she was confronted by two of Colossal City's heroes.

Archer Speedlight was a tall muscular man who carried a bow made from light, and she had seen him bring down an alien ship with a single well-placed energy arrow. He stood on the roof of a nearby building, and as she watched, he hopped down to street level like a boy hopping over a curb.

Straight behind him was the purple-haired alien woman Lynxonna, who had once helped Apple realize who and what she truly was. She cared about Lynxonna deeply, but now she couldn't understand why she was seeing her and Archer.

"What are you doing here?" she protested. "Shouldn't you be helping the others fight?"

"We're here for the book," Archer said briskly. "The boss says that under no circumstances are we to allow you and the book in any combination near the park, and we need the book to bait a trap. We can use it to bring them all out, and then to destroy them."

Apple bared her teeth at him, hugging the book more closely to her chest.

"I don't take orders from you, and I don't take orders from Lynxar either," she said, referring to the leader of the superheroes of the city. Lynxar had fallen to Earth while en route to help Bellaron's home planet against these very invaders, and though relations between the two had improved, they were still at odds more often than not.

"Your beloved is in agreement," Lynxonna said, stepping forward. She was taller than Archer, an Amazon with vivid eyes and a generous smile, and she could make even large men feel small.

"He tells you to stay away at all costs. Remember, the book is useless without you, and we have hopes to draw the angels out of their ships without any further harm coming to the city."

Apple stared at the alien woman intently. She didn't know Archer, but she knew Lynxonna, and she knew that Lynxonna would rather break her own arms than lie.

"You swear?" she demanded. "You swear to me on your life that that's what Bellaron said?"

Lynxonna nodded immediately. "I swear on my life, that of my husband Mayor Mike McIntyre, and that of the children we will someday have. There is no more sacred vow for me."

Apple relented, and handed her the book, which she held with reverence.

"Keep yourself safe, little Apple," Lynxonna said, springing back up on the building. "Go somewhere where you can hide until this is all over."

"I can do something besides hide," Apple said stubbornly.

Archer laughed. "If you can keep up with Bellaron, I'll bet you can," he said with a grin. "My best girls, Dawn and Aurora, are holed up two blocks over at the Helping Hands soup kitchen. They're gonna wait out the disaster there, and they're gonna help where they can. Bet they'd like to see you, miss."

Lynxonna and Archer bounded out of sight, and Apple turned south to where she knew the Helping Hands soup kitchen was. She could not fight like the super-powered heroes could, but she could help in her own way.

Chapter Four

The Helping Hands soup kitchen was all but deserted when she got there, and when she rapped on the door, it was opened for her immediately.

"Apple, what in the world are you doing out?" gasped Dawn, and with a grasp that was surprisingly firm for such a small wispy woman, she dragged Apple inside.

"I was out and Archer sent me here," Apple said, letting her eyes adjust to the gloom of the soup kitchen. "He's fine, he just wanted me here to help you if you needed it."

Dawn smiled a little at the mention of her husband even as she shook her head. "He can't keep his mind on any one thing unless it's a target," she said. "I'm glad you're here though."

Dawn was a shy woman unless her daughter was in danger, and in the years she had spent married to Archer, that protective spirit had blossomed to cover many of the people in the city who needed help. She ran the Helping Hands kitchen, and she was currently in the middle of expanding it into a volunteer day care program.

Today, due to the disaster in the city, many people had gone to ground elsewhere, and there were only a handful of young children in the small play area. Dawn's daughter, a thin child by the name of Aurora, was entertaining them quietly by reading them a story, but Apple's heart ached for the parents who were away from their children, unsure about what was happening.

She joined Dawn in getting the kitchen organized.

"Might as well work as sit and be frightened," Dawn said, and as time wore on, more and more people came in, looking for shelter from the disaster.

They bore tales of the heroes of the city fighting with the alien angels, and Apple wondered what kind of plan the heroes meant to unleash with the book as bait. The shelter filled up, and some parents came to pick up their children and decided to stay as the brick building looked safer than their own homes.

Apple kept herself busy dishing up bowls of nourishing soup and filling sandwiches, and she tried to keep her mind off of the trouble and the turmoil that was going on outside the doors. Distantly, she could hear the sounds of the battle, but she did her best to ignore it, knowing that at the moment, she could do nothing.

Three hours after she had showed up at the soup kitchen, there was a pounding at the door, and when Apple opened it, she found herself face to face with Mike McIntyre, the mayor of the city himself.

She did not know the mayor as well as she knew Lynxonna, his wife; she had only met him briefly, and the last time, he had been ferrying evacuated people out of harm's way.

Today, despite the fact that he wore a _Follow Me, I Know What I'm Doing_ T-shirt mismatched with a pair of designer slacks, he looked every inch the charismatic politician as he strode into the kitchen.

"Hello, Miss Muldoon, hello, Dawn," he said. "We need to get you and everyone in this center moving, and we need to do it, like, yesterday. The fighting's getting close, and I've commandeered these school buses to get everyone out."

Dawn nodded, and she and Apple grabbed the lists of everyone who had come into the center. They would invaluable when it came to reuniting families who had lost one another, and Dawn asked the mayor where the people would be taken.

"To the university buildings at the edge of town," he said. "They're big enough to hold a lot of people, and they are out of the path of danger."

Apple suddenly had a terrible thought. "There are still people in the apartment buildings around here," she said. "There are some squatters too, and they need to be told."

Mike nodded, and he looked exhausted for a moment. "We're doing our best. The buses are congregating at the city squares, and they're making as many runs as the drivers can handle. We just need to get the word out."

Apple nodded. "I'm going to go looking for people and sending them to the squares then," she said.

Dawn bit her lip. "Apple, you should come with us."

"You've got lots of people to look after, Dawn," Apple said with a smile. "You and Aurora get going, I'm going to go get people to safety as best I can."

Dawn started to protest, but Mike cut her off. "I'm sorry to say that she's right. The more people we get on the buses, the safer everyone's going to be."

Dawn hugged Apple tightly.

"Be safe," she said, and Apple nodded.

When the buses were on their way, she made her way to the first nearby apartment building and started buzzing every single ringer on the panel. When someone came down to meet her, frightened by the intrusion during a disaster, she smiled at him, and told him about the buses.

"How can I help?" he asked, standing up straight. He was a young Latino teenager, skinny as a fence rail, and she grinned at him. She knew with a single look that he wasn't going to tolerate being sent to safety, and she needed all the help she could get.

"Let's make sure that everyone in the building knows what's happening," she said. "The sooner we get everyone moving, the safer everyone will be."

Chapter Five

Vicky had been a reporter for most of her adult life, and she had covered everything from dangerous zoo escapees to prison riots. However, her first kidnapping experience and hostage situation was proving to be surprisingly dull.

The angel, because that was the only thing she could imagine calling a creature that looked like this, was content to simply hold her arm firmly but painlessly on the grassy hill as the ships hovered above.

"Why do you want the Psalms of Istarte?" she asked, warily looking to engage him. "What do you hope to gain?"

He turned to her in surprise, and she got the idea that he was shocked that she was even speaking. "The book holds the power of transformation," he said shortly. "It will make us powerful beyond belief."

She shook her head and pointed at the ships above. "You look pretty powerful to me," she said. "What do you gain from slipping your skins?"

The angel hesitated, and she caught his quick glance down at his hand. It was perfectly flawless, but she remembered reports from almost a year before, of a burned angel that the superhero Bellaron had fought and killed.

"There are those of you who are injured," she guessed, keeping her voice soft and calm. "There are those among you who are... burned..."

"Fallen," he said, and now there was something furious in his voice. "Yes."

"And you think that book will help you regain the forms that you had."

"The Psalms of Istarte was a relic entrusted to the people of Naith, and they used it to transform their people into fierce warriors and fighters. If it can change people's forms, it can change our wounded back into the magnificent beings that they once were."

Vicky's mind raced. She knew a little bit about the Psalms of Istarte, and how Apple Muldoon and Bellaron had used them to defeat a small force of these angels before. She also knew that the book was useless without Apple, and she bit her lip.

"And once you have the book, you'll go?" she asked cautiously.

"Our finest minds will use the book to give us what once was ours," he said loftily. "Of course we will go. Once our comrades' forms belong to them again, we will continue our mission."

"Your mission of conquest?" she asked coldly. "As you conquered and destroyed Naith?"

For a moment he looked shocked that she knew of the planet that had been destroyed, and then she yelped as he tightened his grip on her arm.

"Do you think you know anything?" he demanded. "Do you think you know a single damned thing? Naith... Naith was expendable! Naith merely stood in our way."

"Like Earth does?" Vicky demanded. "Will you do to us what you did to Naith?"

"Yes!" The angel's hiss was low and sinister, but it was full of a kind of truth that could not be denied. "Yes, Earth will fall as Naith did, as will all the worlds that deny us what is ours."

In a single moment, Vicky could see that this angel was crazy, and that there would be no reasoning with it, no tricking it at all. There could be nothing but battle, and she nodded.

"You can't do this." Instead of begging or pleading, her voice was as cold as ice. "You will not do this."

"What hope do you have of standing between us and the destruction of your world?" the angel said scornfully.

"More than you might think, slime ball," said a new voice from the thin air.

When the angel spun around, his grip on Vicky's arm loosened for a single moment.

That was all the time that Bryan Hillman, invisible hero and superhuman, needed. He tore Vicky away from the angel, leaving the thing holding her sleeve in shock. Using his super speed, he fled, carrying her in his arms.

"Good timing, lover," Vicky said, looking at the place where she knew his face was.

He turned visible as he ran, and he shook his head. "That was nearly a disaster," he complained. "Did you have to bait him until he was ready to rip your head off?"

"Hey, so my interview technique is a little aggressive! We got what we needed to know though..."

The angel had not pursued them, and now, in a sheltered copse of trees, Bryan set her down gently.

"Yes." He nodded, his expression grim. "We know they never intended to play fair in the least."

"Have we got a plan?" she asked.

Bryan nodded again. "Well, we kind of have a distraction...."

Vicky started to ask him what he meant, but then a clear shout pierced the air.

"Thrice-damned angels from a blighted star, were you looking for a book? Was THIS the book you were looking for?"

Vicky gasped, and her eyes went straight to the top of one of the nearby hills. There was the heroine Lynxonna, carrying the book that the angels were looking for and waving it like a flag.

There was a moment of tension, and Vicky came out from cover to see what was happening.

It was like a scene from a cartoon. The angel on the hill and the three ships turned to regard the purple-haired woman, and as they did so, as their sights were focused on their precious book, they were hit.

Golden arrows took out the ship's navigational controls, and one by one, they broke the lasers that made the ships so fearsome. The angel on the ground roared with fury, and at that call, the ships opened up, releasing a dozen angels each to spiral into the sky. In slow motion, the ships sank to the ground, crushing trees with a deafening crunch, and the angels swarmed around them, only to be met by arrows, by a savage wolf that Vicky knew was Bellaron, and by a tall man with purple hair, the super strong alien known as Lynxar, the leader of the superheroes of Colossal City. Now Lynxonna joined the fray, leaping high to knock angels to the ground, and for a moment, Vicky was consumed with envy of a being so powerful and deadly.

"What can I do?" she said, briskly. "Do you need to get down there and fight?"

Bryan shook his head in frustration, staring up in dismay at the sky.

"That's... that's a lot more than we thought there would be," he said. "I don't think we're going to do anything but stall them until we can get help."

"Then we need to get Apple," Vicky nodded. "She's the one who can use the book. She can turn all of you into things that can fight the angels."

Bryan nodded in agreement, and they sprinted for the parking lot.

"I thought that there was a moment when they might have been serious," she said as they made for Bryan's car. "I thought they might have left with the book."

"Well, Lynxar hoped, but Bellaron knew that there was something up. That was why we were going to wave the book in front of them, to see what they would do, but then you made them tip their hand early."

Vicky smiled.

"Always nice to be of service even if I don't have superpowers," she agreed. "Let's go."

Chapter Six

Apple had spent the past several hours running up and down the stairs of old apartment buildings with Leon by her side. Together, they knocked on doors, they helped elderly people make it to the places where they could be picked up by the buses, and they repeated the same message over and over again.

The city needs to be evacuated. You must go to the squares. Get on the buses, they will take you to a safe place.

Apple paused after seeing a large family onto the bus and sending them off, and she had to squat down on the ground.

"Sorry, kid," she said, stroking her belly. "I promise, the world will be a ton safer when you're ready to come out."

"Do you really believe that?" asked Leon, crouching by her side. Now that she had spent some time with him, she could see that he was even younger than she thought he was, only about thirteen or fourteen, instead of the sixteen she had thought previously.

"I have to," she said firmly. "The world's a dangerous place, but there are people out there making it safer, like Bellaron, Lynxar and Lynxonna. They're fighting to keep it safe for all of us."

"So are you," Leon pointed out with a smile, and she grinned, poking him on the nose.

"You too," she said. "You should always be proud of what you've done today."

He nodded, chest puffed out proudly.

"And now you need to get on the next bus," she said.

"I won't, I can't!" he protested, deflating. "There are still so many people here! We need to get them out of here."

"Leon, I don't have the time to argue with you. Look at me, okay?"

The teen met her eyes, and he was shocked to see tears there.

"You are just a child. You've done an adult's work here today, honey, but you're done now, okay? You're someone's kid, and... and this is only going to get worse."

They had heard the news from the park, that the fire was getting fiercer and fiercer, and the situation that they heard reported from every news outlet, every new message that Leon was getting on his smart phone, well, it didn't sound good.

When Leon looked like he was going to protest again, she shook her head.

"If you won't do it for me, do it for the people who love you," she said firmly. "There's someone who worries about you, isn't there?

Reluctantly, the teen nodded. "Yeah, my mom and my auntie..."

"Where are they now?"

"I sent them a message, I've been talking to them. They got on one of the buses."

"Then you should do the same, Leon," Apple said seriously. "I'm not kidding. Today's a day when we all need to be with the people who love us, and you're no different."

"What about you?" he objected. "You're bigger than a house!"

She made a face.

"You know, that's exactly what a woman wants to hear when the city's falling down, swear to god. Look, it doesn't matter. I'll be safer if I know you're out of harm's way." She knew it was manipulative, but there was nothing to be done about it. She stared down the teen until he dropped his eyes.

"You did so well," she said, giving him a hard hug. "Go be with your family now."

"What're you going to do?" he asked, unwilling to give her up just yet.

"I'm going to get more people out," she said. "And then... then I need to find my husband and his friends.

Chapter Seven

Though the alien ships were down, they were far from out, and there were still angels inside, occasionally lighting up the sky with furious bursts of deadly lasers. Archer was trying to find a vantage point where he could shoot them out, but the angels had discovered his tricks and now he was being swarmed. He wasted bolt after bolt on the angels that tried to overwhelm him, but every moment, they drew him further and further away from the ships.

Bellaron, in his wolf shape, roared and howled, and he dealt with one after another, working from outside the crowd and trying to get Archer free of their bulk. They broke off the attack, flying up to circle them above, and for a moment, Archer dropped to his knee in exhaustion.

Bellaron shifted to his human form and stood by him, offering the marksman a hand up when he was recovered.

"Some fight, huh, Chef?" said Archer, striving for some kind of humor.

Bellaron scowled, watching the angels circle above them. "We're going to lose," he predicted. "This is not a fight we can win."

Archer winced, stretching his arm behind his back to work out the cramp. "Not very optimistic. You're new, so I'll let it pass. The rest of us, we've beat odds like this before. Have some faith, yeah?"

"My faith died with my planet," Bellaron retorted, shaking his head. "All I care about now is making sure that I stop them to my very last breath."

Archer laughed, a slight note of despair in his voice. "Yeah, been there, done that," he agreed. "It... it doesn't look good, does it?"

They were strong, all of them. They had fought aliens and gods and monsters from the pits of the Earth to a standstill, but still the angels were more powerful. They swept above the sky, and it was fortunate that their anger kept them corralled within the park. They were only attacking the superheroes at the moment, but their ships had already ruined some of the nearby buildings. Once they decided to attack the humans in their hunt for the book and the one who could unlock it, things would quickly turn dark, to a place where even the heroes of Colossal City could not save them.

The angels above them swarmed into something like a formation, something that Bellaron recognized very well. They were getting ready to dive at them.

"I'm gonna miss my girls," Archer said flatly, drawing his bow again. "Dawn and Aurora. I'm gonna miss them so much."

Bellaron was silent, as he turned back into his gray wolf battle form, but he agreed.

When the angels came down on them, he thought of Apple, and he prayed that she was safe.

Do you like this book? Be sure to check other books in this series

The Storm to Come - Volume 17

World at War - Volume 18

A Heart that Beats Only for You - Volume 19

Lynxar Series - Dangerous Destinies: Books 17-19 (3-Book Bundle)

Be sure to check the other books of this series

Lynxar - Volume 1

Lynxar's Choices - Volume 2

Lynxar's Legacy - Volume 3

Lynxar's Ghost - Volume 4

The Ghost Rises - Volume 5

Triumph of the Ghost - Volume 6

Lynxar Series: Books 1-6 (6-Book Bundle)

Lynxar's searching Heart - Volume 7

Dreams of the Heart - Volume 8

Heartfelt Farewells - Volume 9

Strength of the Heart - Volume 10

The Heart of Danger - Volume 11

Deceptions of the Heart \- Volume 12

A Heart for Family - Volume 13

Lynxar Series - The Vampire King: Books 7-13 (7-Book Bundle)

Eye of the Beholder - Volume 14

Scars of my Past - Volume 15

Glory in Victory - Volume 16

Lynxar Series - A Star from Far Away: Books 14-16 (3-Book Bundle)

***

Western Temptation

***

Synopsis

Matt didn't intend to become sheriff of the tiny town of new homesteaders, but someone needed to keep the peace. Not much happens in his little territory, and he likes it that way.

Erin needs a fresh start far away from the dark evil of her family. What she didn't expect was to find the town sheriff so distractingly handsome.

When Erin's family comes after her, Erin sees all her dreams vanish, along with the sheriff who wanted to protect her.

***

Chapter One

Matt lifted his hat and wiped his forehead with his handkerchief. It wasn't even noon and the temperature was well above the norm for the season. If they didn't get some rain soon, most of the new homesteaders' crops wouldn't fare very well until harvest.

He scanned the horizon and straightened. A cloud of dust lifted off the trail coming into town. He hadn't expected any new settlers until tomorrow. Dropping his hat back on his head, he leaned his shovel against the post and walked to the edge of Main Street. Even with his brim shading the mid-day sun, he could barely see the wagon. Looked like a single. Maybe one of the families from over in Wolf Creek.

As it neared, he could make out the lone rider on the buckboard. Full-bodied and tall, but he couldn't discern any features beneath the floppy-brimmed hat. As the wagon neared, he noticed the droop of the horses' heads and the crusted dirt over their bodies. This wasn't a rider from anywhere close; they'd been on the trail for days.

The wagon eased to a stop, and he stepped out from the shade of the general store. "Howdy."

"Hi." The easy lilt of the rider's voice caught him off guard, and he stepped closer. A woman tugged off her hat, sending a wide mass of fat curls tumbling over her shoulder. Now that she was so close, Matt wasn't sure how he'd managed to mistake her for anything other than a woman. She stood and stretched, pulling her shirt and breeches tight against her body. He swallowed.

She may be dressed like a man, but there wasn't a single thing manly about how well she filled out those clothes. Regaining his composure, Matt pulled his gaze up to meet hers, tugging off his hat with chagrin. "Howdy, miss. Can I help you?"

She sighed and handed him her reins, then disregarded his outstretched hand and hopped out of the wagon herself. "I'm just here to find the sheriff and get directions to my place."

"Well, hopefully I can help you with both." He held out his hand. "I'm Matt, Sheriff of Warrenville."

Her face brightened, and she shook his hand. "Fantastic. It's been a long ride." She looked over his shoulder at the general store. "I need to pick up a few things while I'm here. Will you come in with me while you give me directions?

Chapter Two

Erin didn't wait for the sheriff to follow her into the store. She was used to men thinking she was this tiny frail flower who needed to be doted on. If he wasn't along fast enough to open her door with a gentlemanly swoop, he'd be sure enough any second to help carry her groceries. While it was always nice to have a man around to help with some things, Erin didn't think they were as necessary as some women—and every man.

She was so excited to be homesteading her own place. Better that the local boys know soon enough that she could handle things on her own. Sure enough, she barely made it to the first aisle before the sheriff was at her elbow, offering to help. Erin turned to look at him again. He was very handsome with all that black hair and his well-trimmed mustache, but she could guarantee he was more trouble than he was worth. Every man was.

But that didn't mean she was against letting them help. As she gathered the items off her list, she handed them to him one by one until his arms overflowed.

The trip from Iowa had been long and arduous, but so very worth it. Now she had a place of her own and no one to tell her what to do. She'd read every book she could manage to borrow and had studied during every spare moment to know everything she needed to homestead her very own plot. First she was going to have to build a house and a shed, but she'd rationed out how long each section would take, and her plan was to have enough of the house built that she could sleep in it come wintertime.

She paid for her parcels, and the kind sheriff took them out to her wagon.

"Where did you say you were headed?" He lifted his hat and wiped his sweaty brow.

"My homestead. The Erin Wisecomb plat."

His eyes bulged just enough that Erin knew he had quickly put the pieces together and understood who her family was and that it would be in his best interest to get her taken care of. Hopefully that didn't mean that he'd think she was in need of any extra protection or bothering. Her family—especially her uncles—had zero intention of coming out this way to bug her or anyone else in this sweet little town.

She just needed her land and no one bugging her.

"Do you have family coming along in a bit, then?"

Erin covered the supplies where he'd put them in the wagon and tied the tarp back down. "No, sir. Just me."

He stepped back and eyed her curiously. Erin crossed her arms and met his stare, ready and well-versed in the lecture that was about to come.

"Now, I'm not sure what you've heard."

Erin lifted a hand and waited for him to pause. "I'll be fine."

He scowled at her and looked very parental. She didn't need any more parents, thank you very much. She eased around him and gathered her horses' reins and climbed back on the wagon. "Guess I'll find it myself, then." She tugged the tip of her hat and turned the horses toward the end of town.

"Wait just a minute," Matt huffed. "I'm coming."

He grabbed the reins of a nearby horse. "You're already going the wrong way."

A blush warmed Erin's cleavage but she didn't let her gaze drop even an inch. Out here, weakness was her enemy. She eased the horses back the other way and followed Sheriff Matt. Now that she'd made it this far, nothing was going to douse her enthusiasm.

They rode for a little over thirty minutes before Matt turned to the south and eased his horse to a stop. He'd tried to make small chat, but since most of it started with a lecture about how he didn't think this was a good idea for her to be out here on her own, Erin hadn't returned much of his chatter.

He got off and dropped his horse's reins, then held Erin's horses while she got down. "Well, this is your new place. I still don't think—"

"That'll be enough, Sheriff. If I need anything, I'll be sure to ask." Erin's chest tightened, and she stepped away from him to survey her new home. She'd picked this area because of the stream that ran through it, the sloping hills, and the thick forest of aspen trees. Now, standing here, the two long years to get here had been worth every obstacle, pain and saved dollar. The first couple months in her tent might be a little chilly, but she was confident that she could make this work.

"At least let me help you set camp for tonight."

Erin swept her gaze to Matt. He seemed like a nice enough guy, and she was sure he meant well . . . men just never gave her enough credit. He was looking distressed, and she wanted to take his help and get him on his way. "That would be great. Thank you."

Erin put him to work on the horses while she unpacked the necessities for the evening. While he worked, she was frustrated at how often her attention wandered to watch him move gracefully through the tall grass tending her livestock. He was very tall, towering over her horses and nearly as wide. She forgot how big the men were out here; they had to be in order to survive. His broad shoulders packed her harnesses and riggings to a small set of trees on the border of her property. He carefully arranged her tack, and her breath caught as he bent to pick up a dropped rope. The fabric of his pants pulled tight around his thighs, and she was suddenly very aware of how alone they were.

She yanked her gaze back to her own work and unloaded her sleeping roll and pans. Matt started a fire and fed the horses while she made dinner. Even though she hadn't asked if he wanted to stay, Erin made extra food and set out another place on the little log she'd found to use as a table.

Matt came back and stood way too close to her. Erin couldn't understand why she was so attracted to him. She'd been around men her entire life. To ease the tension, she stirred the stew and pulled the soda bread out of the fire. "Care to stay for dinner, Sheriff?"

He took off his hat and lowered himself to another fallen log beside her table. "Call me Matt, and I'd love to."

His intense gaze catalogued her every move as she finished preparing the meal, and Erin felt warm beneath her britches. She'd worn men's clothes for years, and she'd never thought it was a big deal, but now, she felt like Matt could see through the tight fabric and could make out every single swell and curve of her body. She just didn't have a place for silly frilly dresses. There was no way to homestead in clothes like that, and she had a whole lot of work to do. Men's work that required men's clothes.

But now she wished that she had something that hid her body a little more so Matt's attention would quit dropping to her breasts and bottom.

She swallowed and handed Matt a plate. His hungered look changed little as it moved from her body to his plate. "Thanks, Miss Wisecomb. It's been a long time since I've had a home-cooked meal."

Erin laughed and sat down on the log across from him. "Call me Erin, and this is hardly home-cooked."

By the gusto he turned on his plate, Erin would have sworn that she'd given him a fat steak. The man liked to eat, that was for sure. But what man didn't? An unfamiliar tingle shot through Erin as she watched his lips curve around the fork.

"Well, when you've been existing off jerky and the kindness of the town widows..."

Erin laughed. She didn't want to like Matt, but there was something kind about him that drew her in. And he'd been helpful, which never hurt. She was going to need a lot of help. "Thank you for helping me unload."

"You've got a lot of gumption to try and tackle this by yourself. I can't say the prospect doesn't bother me."

Erin ate a bite of stew. "You won't be the first one to think I can't handle this."

"Now, don't go putting words in my mouth. I didn't say you couldn't handle it; I just know what can go wrong out here."

Erin sighed and set her plate on the table, then wiped her mouth. "Well, go ahead and warn me then so you can cross it off your list."

He inhaled heavily and set his plate on top of hers, then realigned his hat. "I don't want us getting off to a bad start, Ms. Wisecomb—Erin. You're obviously a capable girl to have made it this far on your own—incredibly capable—but there are dangers here that I can barely protect a town from, let alone a single woman out here on the prairie by herself."

"I can shoot a gun, and I'll have at least one outbuilding before the snow comes."

"There's no talking you out of this, is there?"

Erin shook her head. "What would you have me do, move to town and rent a hotel room? I don't have that kind of money, Sheriff. I have this piece of land. It's everything I own. Well, that and the clothes on my back."

The minute the words left her lips, Erin knew she'd been a fool to draw any attention back to her clothes. Matt's gaze immediately honed in on her bosom, straining against the buttons of her shirt. His lips parted as he drew in a short breath, and then he stood, equal parts awkward and fidgety.

Erin rose and wiped the plates down while Matt walked to where his horse stood. He gathered the reins and came back to where Erin was putting away the food and cooking utensils. She felt the heat of his awareness and was grateful for something to occupy her hands.

"I'd better get back to town. Are you sure you're going to be alright?"

She lifted her head and gave him her most confident smile."Guarantee it. But you're more than welcome to stop by tomorrow to check on me."

He tipped his hat. "I'll be here after the sun comes up."

She wasn't immune to his gentle smile and caring attitude. "If you can be here by breakfast, I'll feed you again."

He mounted his horse. "Count on me."

Erin had a feeling she'd be able to do that no matter what issue came up. Even though he didn't think she was capable enough to pull this off, she appreciated his willingness to leave her to it. "See you then."

He tipped his hat and turned his horse. "G'night."

As his back faded into the shadows, Erin tried to muster all her courage and not miss his company.

Chapter Three

Erin's eyes flew open, and she tensed beneath the covers. Her fingers found the safety on her shotgun, and she eased her hand tighter around the trigger. Her ears strained for the sound that had invaded her dreams. Now she regretted not moving the horses closer before she went to bed. One snorted and stomped a foot into the dirt. She'd loaded the fire before going to bed and with her bedroll so close, she knew she'd be safe from predators, but the horses were too far away for the flames to offer any protection.

Slowly, she rolled over and scanned the darkness. Nothing moved but she could feel the presence of a predator nearby. Something was stalking her horses. Easing upright, she held her gun out in front of her and inched toward the horses. She still couldn't see what was upsetting them. Her older horse moved nervously and stared into the dark. Working quickly, Erin unlatched the hobbles that kept them from bolting and untied their ropes. With the horses in one hand and her gun in the other, Erin led them closer to her camp and the fire.

A sudden burst of fur and teeth came out of the darkness, and the horses yanked their ropes from her hands. She lunged toward them, desperate to catch a hold of the rope ends. The horses reared and Erin raised her gun, hoping to kill the wolf before it took out a horse. The gunshot scared all of them as it ricocheted across the dark night. The horses raced away in one direction, the wolf in the other.

And Erin stood there watching her life savings and one of the most critical elements to her survival gallop into the darkness. She sat down heavily. Tears burned the backs of her eyes but she refused to give into them. The sheriff wasn't right. She could do this and losing her horses was just a minor setback. She added more logs to the fire and stared into the flames. In the morning, she'd go look for them and bring them back. They'd wandered off before and always found their way back to camp.

The wolf might find them again, but she had to hope that her horses were savvy enough to outsmart and outkick the smaller animal if it tried anything.

She sighed and pulled her bedroll around her shoulders, too edgy to get any sleep tonight. Hopefully this wasn't the start of a trend, but just the universe's way of getting her to pay closer attention to her gut instincts.

She could do this. She could. Erin fought back the desperation and fear that so often crept in during the lonely long hours of the night. Now that she'd lost the horses, it would be so easy to let the naysayers like Matt win.

Erin's head jerked up. Something was moving again in the shadows well beyond her circle of vision. It was coming from the direction where the horses had fled. She stood and moved a few feet away from the fire so she could see better.

Then she almost cried out in relief as Matt 's cowboy hat rose from the darkness, along with the white faces of her two escapees. She lowered her weapon and ran toward him. "Oh, thank goodness."

He rode all the way into camp and tossed her their ropes. "You're lucky I'd gone out to the McPatrick's place after leaving here. I was just headed home when these two blew past me like I was standing still."

He dismounted and helped her secure her precious beasts. "What happened?"

Erin told him the story, and he reached for his gun. "You didn't kill it?"

She shook her head. "I tried, but I was trying to keep the horses from taking off too. It was a disaster."

His forehead pulled into a frown. "Do you believe me yet?"

Frustration surged up in Erin. Tonight had been emotional and now Matt was back, piling on even more. She fisted her hands and planted them on her hips. "I can handle this!"

Matt took a step back. "Obviously you can't. You haven't even been here a day and something's already gone wrong."

"Something _always_ goes wrong. That's life."

Matt eased forward and lifted a gentle hand to her shoulder. "Honey, out here wrong gets you dead."

She shrugged off his touch, all too aware of where each fingerprint had rested against her shirt. The heat of his hand still radiated onto her skin. She liked having him here, but admitting that made her feel weak. She'd been on her own for years, and this wasn't the time to start getting soft. "Thank you for bringing my horses, and your opinion is noted. Please leave."

Matt lowered his hand but stepped closer, pressing into her space until she had to tip her head back to look at him. "I can appreciate your willfulness, and your need to do this on your own, but you're in my town, and that makes you my responsibility." His voice was low, but stern. "I left you once because you asked me. I'm not leaving again."

They stared at each other, and a strange feeling stirred deep in Erin's belly. No one had wanted to protect her just for the sake of protecting her for a long time. That was what this felt like. Granted he was using words like "responsibility," but she still felt like he _wanted_ to make sure she stayed safe. She didn't know how to respond to that. Part of her wanted to let him help but another part knew that relying on someone else to watch over her and her property could lead down a dangerous path that would leave her far worse off.

While they stared at each other, the horses fidgeted and Matt's hand moved uneasily toward the pack. A howl split the tension, and Erin jumped.

Matt's arms instinctively flew out, pulling her behind him. One hand dropped to his gun and he had it unholstered and pointed into the night before Erin could peek around his massive body.

She couldn't see anything, just like last time, and that made ignoring the heat of his hand on the small of her back nearly impossible. Her chest smashed against his broad back and a warm wave of his masculine scent washed over her. A spark of desire mingled with the adrenaline coursing through her body. Matt's insistence at protecting her had unearthed physical feelings she'd long ago buried. Her arms were rigid at her sides, and it took every ounce of self-control to keep from wrapping them around him.

"I'm staying."

"Yes." Erin grimaced at the breathlessness in her voice. She briskly stepped away and tended to the horses, tying them close to the fire this time. Matt cleared his throat, adjusted his pants, which she was determined not to notice, and pulled his bedroll off the back of his saddle.

Horses tended to, they stood awkwardly for a moment, watching each other. Erin reassembled her bedroll. There wasn't really a way for them to not sleep close together with the horses taking up the entire other side of the fire. She straightened hers to lie just outside the rocks where she'd stay warm, and Matt settled his right beside. Erin averted her eyes, disappointed in her body's reaction to his bed so close. Her nipples puckered and a warm nest of tingles settled in her belly.

Kneeling on her bed, she set her gun and hat at the head of her bedroll and Matt did the same with his hat, but left his gun in its holster at his hip. She hoped none of the weapons from that area of his belt were going off tonight and couldn't keep her gaze from shifting to the area of her thoughts. From this angle, she was eye level with his entire package and her mouth went dry at the large, unmistakable bulge in his pants. Tonight's episode had clearly gotten his emotions and adrenaline in a tangle too. Her mouth went dry, and she crawled beneath her covers without looking at him and turned toward the fire.

Her ears refused to ignore every rustle of his own bed a few inches behind her, and she envisioned the long line of his legs as he tucked them into his roll and the curve of his arms as he rested his head on them for a pillow. Erin needed her body to stop being so aware of him or she was never going to get some sleep.

"G'night, Miss Wisecomb."

"Thank you for staying. Good night, Sheriff." The fact that they'd resorted to formalities made Erin wonder if he was feeling the tension between them too. Her body was nearly quivering on the overload of having him so close by. Even though she hadn't admitted it before this very moment, there was no denying how incredibly handsome he was, but there was more to him that attracted her—his caring nature, his gentleness with the animals, his need to protect. Obviously as sheriff of a tiny homesteading town, protecting people was just part of who he was.

She needed to remember that and stop getting all doe-eyed about his treatment of her. He probably would have done the same if she was an old man or a newly married couple.

The wolf howled again and she jumped, caught off guard by her wandering thoughts. That was a good way to get killed.

Matt's arm wrapped around her and pulled her closer. He cinched her tight against his body, and she was more than a little distraught to feel how well they fit together. His arm rested beneath her breasts, and his strong thighs pressed into the backs of hers. She tried to keep her bottom away from his holster but to do that she had to arch her back uncomfortably.

His soft voice was warm against her ear. "I don't think he'll come back tonight, but I don't want to take any chances."

That was the stupidest reason in the world to let his arm stay around her, but Erin didn't want to tell him to remove it. It felt so good to be held. Never mind that she was ramrod stiff, but the feeling and arousal coursing through her body was nearly enough to send her straight to the moon. Oh my, he felt deliriously good.

"Okay." She bit her lip and tried to focus on the horses' legs on the far side of the flames. Her heart was hammering in her chest, and her thighs were slick with the need to feel more of him pressed against her. She'd never been so aroused in her entire lift. Her nipples were so tight that if he moved his hand just a few inches, he'd feel the hard nubs where they were nearly poking through her shirt.

He shifted and her bottom brushed against his gun. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried not to rub against him to see if that had perhaps been some other hard weapon he might willingly unholster. She hadn't been touched or held in so long that this was nearly enough to drive her out of her mind. He was so strong and safe. Letting him stay had been a horribly bad idea.

"Relax, Erin. Nothing's going to hurt you while I'm here."

She wasn't entirely sure that was true. Right now he held a ridiculous amount of power over her and her body. The feelings and desires he'd unleashed in her were building so forcefully that she had no idea how to control them. With a simple gesture, he'd undone years of careful and controlled thoughts and dismissed, unmet needs.

Erin wanted things from him. Lots of things. Bad things.

Chapter Four

Matt's hand shifted and rubbed slow circles across Erin's belly. "Relax," he crooned. Up and down, his hand traveled in a caress over her curves. Each circle widened ever so slightly, brushing upward against her breasts and down nearly to her belly button. She wanted to squirm and move with him, but she didn't dare. He was probably treating her like he would any scared child who needed soothing. This was just him doing his job as sheriff.

She bit her lip and tried to relax, but if she did, her bottom would fall back against him and she wasn't altogether certain that would help her relax one bit. But she wanted to feel him. Wanted to have him pressed fully against her, even if it drove her slowly out of her mind while he touched her. She was going to make him stop. Any second now.

His breath tickled her ear, and Erin had to bite back the moan. She was sure he was just settling into sleep and she was making a huge deal out of it. She needed to get her body back under control. Fast.

She drew in a slow measured breath and forced her body to relax. It melted against Matt's, and he inhaled sharply. Her full bottom pressed into his hips and the hardness of him pressed into her pillowy flesh. She might as well not have pants on and their two bedrolls seemed to no longer exist.

His hand stilled on her belly, and Erin held her breath. Was he going to take it away now that their bodies were seamlessly joined? He probably should, but she didn't want him to. Ever. She wanted him to move it over her entire body and had to fist her own hands to keep from guiding his to her aching nipples.

She slowly exhaled, shifting her skin beneath his hand so it traveled gently while her ribs moved up and down with each breath. His fingertip brushed a button and her breath caught again. Even if it was only for one night, she wanted to feel his skin against hers. Needed it. One night. What would it hurt if she let herself give into her needs for one night?

Matt flicked her button open, in a movement so swift she didn't realize how he'd done it. Her sex clenched and her nipples puckered so tight she nearly moaned. If he didn't touch her, she was going to die from the rush of arousal. Another button, then another.

Erin couldn't breathe, couldn't think of anything else but the anticipation of his fingers against her skin. His hand slid inside her shirt, and she gasped. First, he repeated the slow circle over her belly, but this time she couldn't hold still, and her body moved with him, begging him for more. Ripples of desire played across her skin, like his every touch was a pebble in the deep pool of her desire.

The rough scratch of his calloused hands felt amazing on her skin and electrified every nerve ending. When he swept them higher and cupped her full breast, Erin moaned. He pressed his hips into hers and she arched her back, nearly driving his erection through her pants. She wanted—needed to be naked so she could swallow his massive cock between the swells of her cheeks.

He pinched her nipple and rolled it between her fingers. She couldn't believe she was letting him touch her like this, but there was no stopping her need. Her hand slipped out of her bedroll, and she reached behind her to grab his hips.

He growled and pumped against her. "Erin."

She needed his touch. Just for tonight. Just one night in the darkness to be held and cuddled and cherished. That would be enough to get her through all the cold, dark, lonely nights that awaited her.

The fire crackled and bloomed higher, mimicking the heat in her body. The horses relaxed and their heads drooped. All was right in the world for this moment. Erin didn't need to take care of anyone. Not right now.

Matt made quick work of the rest of the buttons and the cool night air bathed her skin, a wildly erotic contrast to the fiery heat of Matt's warm hand. He beaded her nipples and tugged them, pulling them gently then releasing them only to tease them again. Erin moaned and pushed back into him, needing far more than the single touch of his hands.

She rolled onto her back and bit her lips as his hand stalled and his face reddened beneath the fiery glow of the flames.

"I'm sorry—"

He started to take his hand from her breast, but she trapped it beneath her own. "I'm a grown woman, Matt. I could have stopped you if I wanted you to stop." She stared at him and refused to break his gaze or let him look away. "Please don't stop."

He lowered his forehead to hers, and his warm breath came in heavy gasps. "I shouldn't have stayed. I've never—"

"I'm glad you did." She lifted her hand to his jaw, savoring the feel of his prickly beard beneath her palm.

His eyes opened, and he searched her face. While he worked through the situation, Erin played with the buttons of his shirt, unsnapping the first three and slipping her hands inside. He inhaled sharply and clenched his teeth. "Are you sure?"

"Very," Erin purred as her hands spanned his chest. He was a man who was no stranger to hard work and his body was sculpted by long, hard days on the land. His muscles filled her hands and she slid his shirt over his shoulders, revealing more lean curves that she wanted to run her fingers and tongue over.

Matt rearranged their beds until their bodies were together beneath a single cover. It was a tight space, but that made the intoxicating feel of his body all the more powerful. Erin slid her own shirt off, gasping at the feel of his naked chest against hers. Their stomachs slid together and Matt moved between her legs.

His dark head moved lower, and he took her breast in his mouth. She arched her back and her hands flew to his hair. He drew her nipple deep into his mouth, swirling his tongue over the tight bud and cupping the other with his hand. Her short nails scraped across his scalp, and she tried to slow her need. This had to last her for so many nights from now. Tonight was all she had.

His hard cock pressed against her wet, throbbing sex. She wanted him so badly and her hips moved against him, creating a furious friction. Her orgasm built and crested higher, threatening to speed her along to another moon. She held onto him while he loved her breasts. First one, then the other. Her hands roamed over his body, cupping his shoulders, his biceps, pleasuring the strength and the heat of him.

Their hips moved together, and Erin couldn't keep hers from speeding up. She wanted him inside her. Needed to feel him deep, deep.

Matt kissed his way up to her neck, suckled her earlobes and breathed warm air over her ears, igniting a new fire that she'd never experienced. Her body craved more, needed more. Her hips pumped greedily against him and he met her, thrust for thrust. Erin's orgasm built until she felt like every cell was on the verge of exploding into the night air.

She wanted more than sex though. She wanted to taste every inch of him. Wanted the fullness of his cock against her lips, wanted it filling her mouth until she couldn't take another inch. She wanted him to stretch every part of her until the darkness didn't exist anymore. She wanted him everywhere. Sex in the way she knew it wouldn't be enough to chase away the shadows. Erin knew that Matt could expose her darkest corners and shine this building explosion into every space her body could hold.

She pushed up and rolled them closer to the fire until she straddled him. The thickness of his cock pushed up against her and Erin couldn't breathe, couldn't take anything into her body other than the feel of his cock straining against the fabric that separated their bodies. Naked from the waist up, she threw her head back and cupped her own breasts. Matt gripped her waist and pumped against her, building the friction until Erin thought they could outshine the moon.

Up and up he pressed into her. She needed him in her somewhere, and she didn't care where. She tried to slide off him, making him groan loudly and tighten his hold on her waist. She lifted his fingers and drew one into her mouth. His eyes flew open and she settled his other hand on her breast. In and out, she sucked his finger hard, tasting the salt and earth and savoring the newness of him. Her tongue worked feverishly against the bottom of his finger while her mouth sucked him deep down her throat. She took another finger, making him moan and drive his hips into her.

Erin's fingers slid to the buckle of his pants and while her mouth worked on his hands, she slid off him and let her fingers release the fly. His hand tightened on her breast.

"What do we have here?"

The unmistakable cock of a weapon yanked Erin's head up as Matt tumbled her to the side and grabbed for his gun.

"Hold it right there, Sheriff." Two men stood on the far side of the camp, hidden between the shadows of the horses who still dozed away so close to the warm heat of the fire.

Matt froze, his hand only inches from the handle of his shotgun where he'd laid it. In their passion, they'd rolled a few feet away, leaving both of them weaponless.

Erin couldn't believe neither she, nor Matt, nor the horses had heard the approach of the gunmen. Both held guns trained on her and Matt and she had no idea how they were going to get out of this. Matt kept her shielded from view, but who knew how long the men had been watching their display. She frantically searched the folds of their rolls for her shirt. She found it beneath Matt's shoulder and quickly tugged it on, her fingers fumbling with the buttons as she tried to slip them through the openings in a hurry.

Erin gasped as the fire glinted off Matt's waist and the holster of his other gun. From behind him, she could almost ease her hand forward without being seen by the intruders. She lifted her head just enough to figure out where the men stood and if she could hit them without taking out one of the horses.

"Don't even think about it." A deep voice behind her made her stiffen with age-old anxiety. She bit her lip to keep from crying out. Her family wasn't supposed to find her. She'd done everything right.

Everything except let herself believe that she could ever truly escape.

The hard barrel of a gun jammed into her back. "Get up."

She scrambled upright. "Don't hurt him. He was only trying to help me out. I'll come willingly."

Matt eased into a sitting position and looked like he was trying to keep his attention on all the weapons pointed at them. Was there a way she could distract the men so he could draw his gun?

"Erin, I'll handle this." Matt kept his hands high, but his jaw was set in a stern slant. She couldn't believe that she'd gotten him into this mess. She thought for sure that they'd never try to track her down. She'd truly believed that this was far enough outside their clutches. She glanced over at her uncle and glared at the cruel set of his mouth. He'd probably done this without orders from anyone. He'd probably done it just to show her that he could and that nowhere was beyond his reach.

Erin sighed. "Matt, this is my uncle and his men. They've come to take me home."

Matt jumped up, startling her uncle. "Over my dead body."

Erin's uncle laughed and jabbed his gun toward Matt. "Give me your gun, and we can arrange that."

"No!" Erin lunged for Matt but her uncle grabbed her arm.

"Boys, truss up the sheriff. We'll leave him out here for the wolves. I don't want the law out here getting any ideas that we're killing lawmen. And take his gun."

Erin bit her lip and fought the tears that burned the back of her throat. She was so sorry. Sorry for so many things. She'd been a fool to think she could ever start a new life.

"And take his horse."

He pushed Erin toward her own horses and wagon. "We don't need her gear, and it will only slow us up. Tie Erin's horses to yours. I'll handle my niece." He sneered the last word, and Erin dreaded the long ride home. None of her uncles had liked her much, but they tolerated her because she was family. They hated that she never followed the rules and always challenged protocol. There had been no shortage of threats. Until now, Erin never thought they held any weight. Now she knew differently.

She tried to crane her head around and see what they were doing to Matt and when she could cause a diversion. Her uncle shoved her in the back. "Keep going."

Erin scanned the camp but she didn't know what she could do that would give Matt an advantage against all the guns. Even if he could get his own unholstered, there was no way he could take out all three of them before one of them shot him. She could take off running and draw her uncle away, but she had a feeling that the two other men would take any excuse to kill Matt.

She needed to keep him safe and unharmed until they got out of the camp. She was still worried about what would happen after they left, especially if they were leaving him without a weapon and at the mercy of the patrolling wolves.

Behind her, a scuffle erupted. She twisted out of her uncle's grasp in time to see Matt take a punch to the face. He bent over and barreled forward into one of the men, pounding his shoulder into the man's gut. The one behind jumped on Matt's back and the three of them went down in a heap of bodies.

"No!" She lunged forward and stumbled. Her uncle grabbed for her, wrenching her shoulder painfully. She stretched her hand toward Matt, straining to see him beneath the two big men as they rained punches and kicks onto his slumped body.

Matt made one final burst of an attack and managed to regain his feet and head butt one of the men, who crumpled to the ground. His frantic search for Erin found her and their gazes locked. Terror welled up inside her. They were going to do terrible things to him. She just knew it.

The horses reared and strained against their ropes. Matt's broke free and raced into the darkness but Erin's were too secure and couldn't move more than a few inches away. Chaos reigned and everything moved so fast.

Crack!

The boom of a gunshot froze everyone. Erin's gaze swung to Matt's as he stood heaving over one body and with his arms wrapped around the neck of the other man.

Her uncle stood beside the fire, gun raised high in the air. He lowered it and pointed it at Matt's head. "Let go or I'll shoot you."

"Go ahead."

Without hesitation, the gun swung to point straight at Erin. "Let go."

Chapter Five

Matt couldn't believe this was happening. Never in the years that he'd been sheriff had anyone been held at gunpoint and the only creatures that had infiltrated their cozy town had been the four-legged kind.

These men meant business and were professionals. He had no chance to save Erin from them.

And somehow she seemed to know them. He'd heard of the Whitcomb name, but thought they'd all stayed back east. Was that why she'd been traveling alone? And refused all his help?

He'd been such an idiot to let the desires of his body put them both in danger. Now her uncle had a loaded gun pointed at her head, and there was nothing Matt could do about it. He'd never felt so helpless in his entire life.

For a minute, he'd had the upper hand. If he could have unarmed the other man, he could have shot Erin's uncle and gotten them both to safety somehow. Now he had no idea how to get between the men and Erin.

She stood frozen on the other side of the camp, too far away for him to save. Her face conveyed every single fear and dashed dream that he had no chance of saving.

In an instant, he'd gone from enjoying the sweetest thing he'd ever laid eyes on to having her ripped out from underneath him and now she was in serious danger. There had to be a way to save her. Maybe if he let them think that they could take her, he could find a way to ambush them. If he let them get a bit of a head start, he could easily follow until the time was right to rescue Erin.

He stared at Erin, trying to convey his promise that he'd find her.

He let go of the man's throat and backed away, hands raised. Both men rose from the dirt and yanked Matt's arms behind him painfully, but he refused to let his face show a single bit of the pain, lest he scare Erin.

She'd been beyond brave, first making the trek all the way to her land, and then demanding to be able to do it all herself. He'd been enamored by her guts and will from the very second. It came as no surprise that she'd tried to find a way to shoot her way out of this situation. He knew that she'd be fine even if it took him days to get to her. He hoped it wouldn't but without his horse and without any weapons, he was going to have to do some quick thinking once they left him.

They tied his hands behind his back, then lashed the rope to a tree. If that wolf came back, he'd be an easy dinner. Matt filled his lungs, hoping that once they left, he could find some slack in the rope.

Erin tried to look tough, but Matt could see the pale tint to her lips. She trembled and got to her feet, never breaking Matt's gaze. The horses fidgeted nervously, and she glanced toward them. Matt could see her trying to figure out how to make a break for it. When her gaze slid back to his, Matt shook his head harshly then looked at her uncle.

"Fine. Take her."

Erin flinched, and Matt's heart squeezed. _Hang in there, Erin._

Do you like this book? Be sure to check other books in this series

Western Seduction - Volume 2

Western Incitation - Volume 3

Western Homestead Love (Trilogy Bundle)

***

The Sexy Teacher (Spreading my Wings - Part 1 of 5)

***

Synopsis

Shasta Bennington is a 23-year-old former beauty queen. In her hometown, she took home every crown in every pageant, following a fine family tradition like her mother and four older sisters before her. Her half-Japanese, half-Italian beauty was no match for anyone who dared to compete against her. But she wasn't happy.

When she graduated high school, she broke the news to her parents that her true passions were teaching and photography, and that she was going to college to follow her dream of being an educator. They were disappointed, but supported their daughter in her pursuits. Shasta did remarkably well in school and began substituting jobs here and there. Soon after obtaining her full teaching degree, a permanent job became available and was offered to her at a high school clear across the country, and she took it without thinking twice. She packed her things and got an apartment close to the school to begin her new career. But her beauty followed her, and Shasta may end up teaching more than just high school photography...

***

"Spreading My Wings"

My name is Shasta Bennington. I'm 23-years-old, and I recently obtained my teaching degree and accepted a job teaching at a high school clear across the country from my hometown in Riverdale, California. Although I was a beauty queen back home, winning every pageant I ever entered, my passions have always been photography and teaching. I knew from a very young age that I wanted to teach high school photography, but I kept it a secret from my family because my mother and four older sisters were all beauty queens as well and it was kind of a family tradition.

My parents were slightly disappointed when I told them I was going to college to be a photography teacher, but they eventually decided to support me. It was difficult for my strict Japanese mother to let me go and pursue my own dreams and not follow in her footsteps, but she eventually accepted it. After substituting here and there for a year, I was ecstatic when I was offered a full-time, permanent position at Kempton High in King's Island, Florida – a cute little town with a small population.

I was so nervous my first day because I didn't really know what to expect. _Are the kids going to like me? How well am I going to handle this? Am I in over my head?_ These were the questions that were plaguing me when I entered the red brick halls of the school. Kempton High is one of the oldest schools in this area and it's absolutely stunning from the outside. The inside is even more spectacular. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, tried to think to myself the most encouraging quotes I could think of, and stepped into _my_ classroom – room 204.

I made it through four periods and everything went fine. When I entered the classroom for sixth period, the last period of the day, there was a low murmur of students talking and laughing, friends who hadn't seen one another since the previous school year, new acquaintances being made, that sort of thing.

I quickly rushed over to my desk, set down my briefcase, and surveyed the room. A few students looked up at me when I walked in, but one in particular caught my eye. Out of the twenty or so students in my classroom, this one boy shone from all of them like a beacon of light. He had short black hair, striking blue eyes, and sat in the front of the class, arms folded, head down, not speaking to anyone. He looked shy and unsure of himself, like this was his first day at a new school. After gazing at him for a brief moment, I turned around to the whiteboard, grabbed a black marker, and wrote, _Miss Bennington_ on the board.

"Hello, class," I said with a confident tone that completely contradicted the nervousness coursing within me. "My name is Miss Bennington, and I will be your instructor for this year's class, Photography 101. I'd like to start by taking roll."

Much to my surprise, the kids quieted down and attentively looked up at me. I grabbed the folder that contained the roll sheet and began calling off names. Something within me couldn't wait to find out what that cute, shy boy's name in the front was. Going through the names one by one, every time another student answered with "here", I felt a little bit more disappointment and anxiety. Finally, I arrived at the last name on the list.

"Zachary Yates?" I read aloud.

"Here," came a faint voice from just beyond my desk. This was him. Zachary Yates. What a cute name.

"Okay, great. You're all here, minus one student, Cassandra Miller," I said.

"She's probably pregnant again," said a male student in the back, followed by scattered snickers from around the room. "Cassandra's kind of the school ho."

"Okay, I don't need to know that," I said in an attempt to stop the laughter. "Now. I think it would be helpful to go around the room and one by one have everyone state their name, their grade, and why you decided to choose photography as your elective. Starting up front here, with Zachary, and continuing down the rows until everyone has spoken. Zachary, would you please introduce yourself?"

I couldn't wait to hear him speak again and find something, anything, out about him. I knew my curiosity about this boy was dangerous and forbidden, but I knew I would keep it to myself and no one would know.

"Well," he said, "I go by Zack, for starters."

His young voice was soothing and smooth, just barely deepened into manhood and it sent a jolt of adrenaline through me.

"Oh, okay," I said with a smile, "I'll make a note of that. What grade are you in, Zack?"

"I'm a senior. I just moved here from Chicago, and this is my first year here at Kempton. I decided to take photography because it's something I've always been interested in," he said, keeping constant eye contact with me.

"Can you tell us why photography interests you?" I asked.

"It's like...time is always moving, you know? When you take a photograph, you capture a moment in time that you can keep forever even though it's fleeting, you can visually revisit it whenever you want. That's just a beautiful thought to me," he said with obvious passion in his voice that absolutely mesmerized me.

"That's wonderful." I smiled at him. Our eyes locked for a brief second before the student behind him began speaking.

"Um...my turn?" she said.

"Yes, go ahead." I tried to secretly regain my composure.

"My name is Angela Harding. I'm a junior, and I chose photography because I figured just taking a bunch of pictures would get me an easy A."

Once again there were scattered chuckles around the room.

"Well, think again, Miss Harding." I smiled. "There's a lot more to my class than just taking a bunch of pictures."

The semester progressed, and Zack's pictures were so good and insightful it was though a professional had taken them. Perfect composure, interesting subjects, and wonderful use of photographic tools, such as the star filter. While many students chose the option of digital photography for their assignments, Zack always used the 35mm so his photos were real, rugged, and organic. Each told a little more of his story, and he always went above and beyond the assignment.

With every photo assignment he turned in, I was amazed all over again and his talent just deepened my secret attraction to him. I had noticed some awkward flirting going on between him and Angela, the girl who sat behind him. I was secretly jealous of these exchanges, but Zack didn't seem very interested. He would shyly smile at her and look down at his feet whenever she would talk to him, displaying the classic body language signals of flirtation: running her fingers through her long blonde hair, touching his arm when they spoke, things of that nature. I noticed he would only give her one word answers and turn away. One day, at the end of class, I decided to make a bold move. As all the students gathered up their things and waited for the bell to ring, I walked over to Zack's desk. He was putting his notebook away in his backpack.

"Hey, Zack?" I spoke in a low tone so as not to draw the attention of any other students. "Do you think you can stay after class for a few minutes?"

He looked up at me with a puzzled expression. "Uh...yeah," he replied. "Am I in trouble or something?"

"No, no, it's nothing like that. I'd just like to speak to you."

He nodded in confirmation and the look of worry faded to one of relief. The bell rang, and the other students quickly exited the classroom. Within seconds, Zack and I were the only two who remained. I took a seat at my desk, and he walked up to it hesitantly.

"What did you want to talk to me about, Miss Bennington?" he asked.

"I have taken notice of your extraordinary talent in this class," I said. "Is photography something you want to make a career of?"

"I haven't really thought about it like that," he answered. "I just love it as a hobby."

"So you take pictures on your own time then? Not just for this class?"

"Oh yeah. I have a whole photo journal. I carry a digital camera and a 35mm everywhere I go. Never know when a good photo op will present itself."

I saw how much he lit up whenever talking about his love of photography. I recognized it as the same light that exudes from me whenever I talk about teaching photography.

"I have a photo here I'd like you to take a look at," I said as I pulled a plain yellow folder from my briefcase. I opened the folder and flipped past a few photos until I came to one I had taken of a stream that ran through a wooded area on a cloudy day.

"What does this photo say to you?" I asked.

He took the photo from my hands and examined it carefully.

"It speaks of longing and promise," he said after some time. "The stream represents the path to a different future, to change. The way the sun is just barely peeking through the trees at the end of the stream off in the distance is the promise of what could be. The visible clouds overhead signify the photographer's current situation and the longing to be free of it. It appears that all one would have to do to escape those storm clouds is to follow the stream to the sun, to a brighter day."

I smiled. "That's exactly what I was feeling when I took this photo."

"What were you escaping from, if you don't mind my asking?"

"My life as it was. I was unhappy and expected to follow in my mother and sisters' footsteps and I didn't want to. I wanted to go to a new place and follow my heart to teach."

I found it odd that here I was opening up to this boy I didn't really know and who was supposed to be my student. I knew it would probably be frowned upon, but I felt a connection to this boy and something in me was trying to reach out and feel that connection to another human being.

"Do you have your photo journal with you?" I asked.

He nodded. "It's in my backpack."

"Mind if I take a look?" I inquired.

He again nodded yes and reached into his backpack. He pulled out a plain black binder and handed it to me.

I flipped through the photos; all size 8x10 and placed into a plastic protector sheet within the binder. They were extraordinary. His eye for photography rivaled that of my own and I had been trained through many classes. His talent came naturally. He pulled up a chair and watched me examine the photos. Every now and then he would comment on them. I wanted to ask him more questions that weren't related to photography, but I didn't want him to feel like I was interrogating him, and I really didn't want to come off as creepy. As I neared the end of the portfolio, I came across a portrait of a very pretty young girl holding a rose and smiling happily.

"Ohh...who is she?" I asked playfully.

A smile spread across his face, and he blushed slightly. "That was my next door neighbor in Chicago, Holly. I lived next door to her for six years, and I had a huge crush on her, only she didn't know it. The closest I ever got to asking her out was asking her to pose for this photo."

"And do you think Angela might be your next subject?"

I was proud of myself that I was able to work that in and not have it seem totally off topic and out of the blue.

"Angela? Nah. She's too artificial for the type of portraits I like to do," he said with a grimace.

"Oh? How do you mean?" I probed.

"She wears too much makeup. Holly had the natural look, and that's why I was so drawn to her. She didn't dye her hair, she didn't hide her beauty with all kinds of artificial products. Angela does."

"She seems to really like you," I said with more disappointment in my voice than I intended.

"She flirts like that with everyone. I have three classes with her, and I see it. There's nothing special about me," he said as his gaze dropped to the floor.

"Well, you are very wrong about that." I couldn't stop myself from reaching out and lightly touching his knee as I said it.

He immediately looked uncomfortable, so I removed my hand. "So...are we done here? I'm sorry to rush off, but if I'm not home by four my mom kind of freaks out. I guess she doesn't realize that even though I'm still in school, I'm legally an adult," he said with a nervous chuckle.

"Yes, we're done," I replied. "I just wanted to let you know what a great job you're doing in my class and how much I appreciate your talent. It's a real pleasure to have you in my class."

"Thank you." He beamed. "That really means a lot to me. You know, my parents don't really understand my photography thing. They always ask me why I don't go hang out with friends or play video games like other kids my age. They just don't get it."

"Well, stick with it anyway. You have phenomenal talent." I grinned.

"Thanks again." He smiled back. Our eyes locked for a moment of silence and the tension it presented was palpable.

"Well, I better go," he said as he broke the gaze, grabbed his backpack, and headed for the door. "Good night, Miss Bennington. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"I'll be here," I replied with a smile. As soon as he left and the door closed, I dropped my head to the desk in defeat.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid!" I said to myself aloud. What was I thinking, keeping him after class? What was I thinking when I put my hand on his knee and asked him probing questions about girls? Girls his age, as a matter of fact. What the hell was I doing? These questions floated around in my head over and over as I sat face down on my desk.

I have to stay away from this boy. From now on, nothing more. I am his teacher, he is my student. That's it. Did you see how uncomfortable he looked when you touched him? This is one situation I need to steer clear of. I'll just push him out of my mind and think of him only as a great student.

That night as I dozed off to sleep, I saw Zack. He was wearing white dress pants but had no shirt on. We were together in the woods next to a waterfall, and he held his 35mm camera in his hand. I stood from where I was sitting on a large rock near the waterfall. I was wearing a long, flowing white dress that crossed over one shoulder like a toga. I began to take off the dress as he photographed me. Soon I was down to nothing – naked in the midst of beautiful nature with Zack photographing me.

After several poses, he put the camera down and walked over to me. We locked eyes and then fell into a deep and passionate kiss. His hands caressed my body that went numb everywhere except where he was touching. I ran my hands over his warm, toned, youthful body. I slid my hands down his torso until I came to the waistband of his pants. As I unbuttoned and unzipped them, they fell to the ground with a soft thud. He expertly laid me down atop the soft grass and lowered his body onto mine. It was soft and warm as it pressed against me, growing ever hotter the more we kissed. He looked deep into my eyes and pushed forward to enter me. His manhood was solid and welcomed as it sank deep into my waiting opening...

I woke up with a start.

"Great, now I'm having sex dreams about him. Tomorrow's gonna be just awesome," I said aloud before flopping back onto my pillow and falling back asleep.

The next day I entered the classroom and my eyes involuntarily went straight to Zack. He was wearing a tight black tank top and loose-fitting black Dickies pants.

_He's not making this any easier_.

I heard someone say his name and my ears immediately tuned into the conversation. It was Brian Lecher, the student who had made the snide remark about Cassandra Miller being the 'school ho.' I had gathered that he was a problem student. His family had money. His father was a doctor, and his mother the city's top prosecutor. He was the star quarterback on the school's football team, and he could have any girl he wanted, so he thought he was untouchable. He was also kind of a bully. He sat atop the empty desk next to Zack.

"Hey, Zachary," he said with a confident, booming voice. "Can I call you Zachary?"

"I guess," answered Zack quietly.

"Why are you so weird?" asked Brian.

"What do you mean?" asked Zack.

"Well you're always in all black, you don't talk to anyone, and you eat lunch by yourself. You're just kind of...there, and it's weird. Do you worship the devil or something?" Brian said with a condescending chuckle.

"No," answered Zack flatly as he looked at the floor.

"Then why don't you talk?" asked Brian.

"I just...don't have anything to say," said Zack.

"Well, there's a lot to talk about. What do you think of the game on Saturday? It's a pretty important one; we're playing the rival high school. Do you think we'll win?"

"I don't keep up with sports," said Zack quietly.

"See? That's weird. Our team is one of the best in the state. We're from the school you go to. You should be proud of that."

"Hey, Brian?" said Angela as she turned around in her desk. "Why don't you just leave him alone? There are plenty of people who would love to brown nose you over what a good player you are. Go find them. It's not hard."

"Why are you defending him, Angela?" asked Brian snobbishly. "Is screwing a weirdo on your sexual bucket list or something? 'Cause you already did the quarterback. And if I may say so, Zachary, she's not that great in bed. Just a head's up for when she tries to bag you. She's trying to take Cassandra's crown of school ho now that Cassandra's not here."

He grinned and smacked on a piece of gum.

"All right, that's enough, Brian," I said sternly. "Take a seat and quit harassing Zack. And spit out the gum. No gum in the classrooms, you know that."

Brian looked up at me and hesitantly stood up. He slowly walked to the trash can and threw away his gum. As he walked back to his desk, he leaned down close to Zack and almost whispered, "I'm watching you, weirdo."

Zack rolled his eyes and shook his head as Brian walked away and took a seat at his own desk. The look of embarrassment and sorrow that swept across his face was heartbreaking, and I had to fight the urge to hold him and tell him everything would be all right. Instead, I began teaching the class.

The final bell rang, and they all quickly shuffled out as they always did. I was sitting at my desk with my back to where the students sat, placing things in my briefcase. I hadn't even noticed that Zack was still in the classroom.

"Miss Bennington?" he said, in his smooth, enticing voice.

I abruptly turned around, pushing my hair out of my face. "Zack! I didn't realize you were still here!" I exclaimed, the excitement in my voice more apparent than I intended. "What can I do for you?"

"I wanted to thank you for getting Brian off my back," he said quietly, maintaining eye contact with me.

"Oh, it was nothing. I didn't really do much. I just told him to sit down." I could feel my cheeks blushing a little.

"Well, you got him away from me, and I appreciate it, and I wanted to apologize for yesterday."

"What do you think you need to apologize for?" I asked him.

"'Cause I had to leave so quickly. You know, you and I are a lot alike," he said.

"Oh? How's that?" I asked.

"Well, we're both new to the city and the school. We both have a passion for photography, and we both have no one to reach out to."

As he spoke, it felt like he knew me completely, as if he saw through everything and focused in on the real me.

"What makes you think I have no one to reach out to?" I asked.

"From your photos and what you told me about being alienated from your family. I can just tell. I have another hidden talent. I can read people." He smiled.

"Well, you're very good," I grinned.

"Would you object to...ah, never mind. It'd probably be too weird. And against the rules," he said as he scratched the back of his head nervously.

"What? Finish what you were going to say," I probed.

"Well...I was wondering if you'd like to get together away from school. We could look at some photos, take some pictures, talk...you know..."

"Yes, fraternizing with students is against the rules," I said matter-of-factly. "Unless it has to do with class. Since you said we'd be looking at and taking photos...I don't see anything wrong with it." I grinned.

"Great! I know an excellent place we can go. There are photo ops everywhere you look!" The excitement in his voice was endearing.

"Okay, when and where should I pick you up?" I asked.

"We can leave now if you want," he suggested.

"Won't your mom be upset if you aren't home by four?" I asked.

"Well, I was hoping you'd say yes so I told her I'd be a couple hours late today," he replied bashfully.

"Ohh...confident, are we?" I said playfully.

"No...just hopeful."

Our eyes locked again, and a smile was permanently planted on both of our faces.

"Well, let's go!" I got my car keys out of my purse, grabbed my briefcase, and stood up to walk out the door. He followed closely behind and every now and then I would look back to see him smiling at me. I began to feel tingly butterflies in my stomach and adrenaline rushed throughout my body as we climbed into my car. I wondered if he felt the same, but so much about him was a mystery. What were his true motives for this little outing? Is it simply because he finally found someone who encouraged and shared in his love of photography? Or was it something more? I had no idea as he directed me where to go.

We arrived at a wooded area; beautiful green trees and vibrant flowers, rushing white water, and large, formidable rocks. We exited the car and took a seat on one of those rocks, admiring the beauty of nature. I was reminded of the dream I'd had the previous night and the area we were in was very similar. I felt awkward and almost ashamed, but strangely invigorated.

"How did you find this place?" I asked him as I took my camera out of my briefcase and we took off our shoes to walk around in the plush grass.

"Just wandering around. I do that when I'm looking for a good picture. I found it and fell in love with it." His words were elegant and precise as he stood to peer out over the water at the vast beauty this area provided.

He came and took a seat next to me, and we immediately engaged one another in conversation. I told him about my past; the beauty pageants and how my last boyfriend was convinced I was cheating on him even though I wasn't and left all my belongings out in the rain and changed the locks to our apartment, leaving me stranded and forcing me to go back to my parents' house. He told me about his abusive father and how he used to beat Zack until he blacked out. His mother finally called the cops and got him arrested while concurrently filing for divorce. She married Zack's step-father six months later and he wasn't abusive to Zack, he just ignored him.

We talked about everything and anything – nothing was off limits. He told me he had never been on a date, never kissed a girl, never had sex. He told me he wrestled with his sexuality for a while, and while he was in middle school he questioned if he was gay.

We took some photographs that we knew would come out spectacular when we developed them because the wonder of this area spoke for itself – there wasn't much we had to do to make the photo great. After the photo session, we sat down in a patch of green, soft grass and continued to talk. After a moment of silence, he looked over at me but said nothing.

"What?" I asked with a chuckle. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I think you would look stunning with your hair down. You wear it up every day, and I've never seen it down. May I?" he asked as he scooted closer and reached for the clip that held my hair up. I knew this was starting to cross a few lines, but I had no choice but to let him take the clip. Something within me just couldn't stop him. He gently pulled the clip from my hair and it fell in a cascade to my middle back. He ran his fingers through my hair and pulled two sections of it onto my shoulders so they flowed down my chest.

"See?" he said. "Beautiful. Here, let me get you a flower."

He leaned over and picked two white roses from a bush right next to us. He picked the thorns off one and put it behind my left ear and placed the other into my hands.

"Can I take a picture?" he asked.

I could do nothing but smile and nod yes. He picked up his camera, focused it, and took the picture.

"I know that picture will be beautiful." He smiled as he lowered the camera.

It was as though something took control of my body. I wasn't myself anymore. All rationality and knowledge of rules went out the window as I stood up, walked toward him, and knelt down beside him. I gently took the camera from his hands and set it aside. I looked deep into his eyes and saw questioning and bewilderment, but I also saw something else – carnal desire.

It was in that moment that I knew he felt it too – this unspoken tension between us.

I leaned in closer to his face and as our lips met it was like someone set a fire within me. Much to my gratitude, he reciprocated and we fell into the deep and passionate kiss I had dreamt about the night before. He placed his hand behind my head and kissed me with such skill it was hard for me to believe he had never done this before. I made the bold move to start pulling up his tank top and caressing his chest and stomach. They were smooth and lightly toned and warm to the touch. I could smell light cologne as I kissed my way down to his neck and ear. As I lightly flicked my tongue in and out of his ear, he began breathing heavy. I could feel his body tensing up with anticipation and maybe even a little bit of fear. I pulled his tank top up to his neck and he rose up slightly and helped me take it off, letting me know that he wanted this too. I slid my hand down his body as we began kissing again suddenly he broke the kiss and slightly pulled away.

"Are you sure you want this?" he asked timidly. "I mean, you could get in a lot of trouble if anyone found out."

"Who's gonna tell 'em?" I smiled.

He hesitated for a moment, but then looked deep into my eyes again. He could see how badly I wanted this to happen, and it reconfirmed his own desire. He reached a shaky hand up to my blouse and began unbuttoning it.

When I was at school, I wanted to be as far away from a beauty queen as I could, so I always wore either pants or skirt suits with nice blouses. I looked like a librarian but I felt professional. He arrived at the last button of my creamy white shirt and slowly slid it off my shoulders. He then leaned in uncertainly and began kissing my neck, my collar bone, my chest. He scooted closer to me and reached around my back to unfasten my bra, which he also slid off my shoulders. There I was, bare breasted in the calming beauty of nature.

He looked up at me like he was unsure of what to do next, so I grabbed his hand and directed it to one of my breasts. He squeezed gently and looked at me with wonder. I placed my hand on the back of his neck and guided his lips to my nipple. His mouth embraced it with warm, moist vigor as his tongue slid over my nipple slowly – back and forth, back and forth. The fire that had been ignited within me when we first kissed was now an inferno and every nerve in my body was on high alert. He licked across my chest until his mouth found my other nipple and he repeated the same movements.

I tilted my head back in pure pleasure and began to moan lightly. He made his way back up to my lips, kissing and licking his way up my chest and neck. We fell into another passionate kiss, only this time the raw desire was apparent and the kiss was harder and more primal. I rose up and pushed him away, directing him to lie on his back. I straddled him and we continued kissing. I made my way down his neck, chest, and stomach until I arrived at the waistband of his pants.

I slowly and deliberately unbuttoned and unzipped them, pulling them down to his mid-thigh. I could see his rigid excitement extending up through his boxer briefs, which I pulled down as well. There he was in all his glory; eight or so inches of untouched wonder. He lifted his head to peer down at me, his body shaking with nervousness and desire. I wrapped my hand around his beautiful manhood, which glistened with precum.

I looked him in the eye as I wrapped my lips around it and sank every wonderful inch into my mouth. As I slowly moved up and down in a steady rhythm, he began to moan lightly, which only added fuel to the inferno blazing within me. As I increased the speed in which I swallowed him down, his moans became louder and soon I felt seven hot spurts of cum hit the back of my throat forcefully. He tasted sweet with a little bit salty as I swallowed it all down, drop by drop. He heaved with satisfaction as he laid his head down on the soft grass. I kissed my way up his body. When I got to his face, I leaned forward until my lips were just at his ear.

"So are you going to kiss me again after that?" I smiled.

"Yeah...it's just me," he replied as he gently pulled my face toward his and kissed me. He softly licked my bottom lip and said, "Hmm...weird. Kinda sweet, kinda salty."

I smiled and kissed him again. All of a sudden, the shy, reserved Zack I had come to know switched into a sexual animal as he flipped me over to where he was on top of me. He kissed me aggressively, but I liked it. He reached under my skirt and pulled off my tights and panties, leaving the skirt on. He kissed and licked his way down my body, making sure to pay ample attention to my breasts and nipples before he kissed and licked down my stomach. He pulled my skirt up to my hips and gripped underneath my thighs, spreading my legs and pulling me closer to him. He kissed my inner thigh and licked the top of my pelvic bone, just above the Promised Land. And then he finally made contact.

By this time, I was aching for sexual release. His tongue swept over my clitoris and labia and I began to moan loudly with immense pleasure. The skills he exhibited made me doubt again that he'd never done this before. It didn't take long for that inferno that was blazing within me to explode into wildfire as I experienced the most intense orgasm of my life. I didn't even realize I had a firm grip on his hair as he made his way back up my body; kissing and licking every inch of the way.

"Are you sure you've never done this before?" I asked, breathless.

"No, I haven't. But come on, I'm a teenager, I have a computer in my room, and I know how to use a search engine to look for porn." He grinned widely.

"Well, keep watching it, because it's showing you some amazing things!" I laughed.

He chuckled and leaned in to kiss me again. I reached down between our bodies and began stroking his already hardened member.

"Oh really?" I grinned. "Are you up for round two?"

"That's another hidden talent of mine," he said confidently. "I can go several times in a row."

"Nice." I grinned. I continued to stroke him, and he closed his eyes as his hips began to move back and forth slightly. I rubbed his hardened manhood against my clit as we both began to moan with pleasure.

"I want you inside me," I whispered to him. I guided him down until he was at the cusp of my waiting entrance. He gave a slight thrust and there it was – the moment I'd been wanting since the beginning of the year, when I first laid eyes on him. He was inside me. The feeling was tremendous and overwhelming as he slowly thrust in and out of me. He leaned in to kiss me again as our moans became louder and more desperate. His speed began to increase, and I could tell he was getting close.

"Slow down," I told him. "I want this to last."

He kissed me as he slowed his pace. I wrapped my legs around him and pulled him into me tightly. I could smell slight perspiration forming on him and it made me even wetter than I already was.

His quiet moans and grunts were driving me crazy with desire as he whispered in my ear, "You feel so good."

I could feel the fire welling up in me again, and I held his strong, masculine arms tightly as I reached my second climax. He sped up his pace again and soon he was coming at me hard and fast. It was pure ecstasy. Being able to experience sex with him slow and gentle and then hard and fast turned me on so much I entered my third orgasm.

Soon he was thrusting as hard and fast as he possibly could and he cried out, "Oh my God, I'm gonna come!"

I could feel several hot waves of semen being released within me. His pace slowed to a stop, and he leaned in to give me another long, deep, passionate kiss before collapsing on top of me.

"That...was...amazing," he said in between breaths.

"I'm honored that I'm the one you wanted to give your virginity to." I smiled.

He was lying with his head on my shoulder, his face buried in my neck. "I knew I wanted you from the first time I saw you," he said quietly. "I just didn't think anything would ever happen between us."

"Well, I guess you thought wrong." I chuckled.

Zack and I laid there, bodies intertwined, him still inside me, in the midst of nature for a heavenly half an hour or so. It was starting to get dark, so we decided we should get dressed and leave. As we were getting dressed, he looked at me with an expression of despair.

"So what happens now?" he asked.

"Well...I'd love to do this again," I replied. "We just have to keep it a secret."

"Our own dirty little secret." He grinned.

Zack and I maintained the normal teacher/student relationship in the classroom, and I didn't treat him any different than I did my other students. But when the bell rang we would find somewhere to go and have sex. We went to my apartment frequently, back to the waterfall frequently, and even places like under an overpass were not off limits.

For three months, I was in a whirlwind romance with my 18-year-old student and it was a blur of wonderful sex, wonderful conversation, and wonderful photography.

One night, as we lay in my bed after mind blowing sex, he looked at me very seriously. "I think I'm in love with you," he said. "No wait. I _know_ I'm in love with you."

I smiled the biggest smile I'd ever had as I mustered up the courage to say, "I love you too."

We kissed and made love again, and I will always remember that as one of the best nights of my life. To think this wonderful, vibrant, deeply interesting, gorgeous young man loved me gave me tingles all over my body and it felt amazing. I decided then and there that I would devote my heart and soul to Mr. Zachary Yates.

On a cold morning in December, one week away from finals, Zack came in third period, my prep period where I had no students in my classroom.

"Well, this is a nice surprise." I beamed. "I didn't expect to see you until sixth period."

He had a somber expression on his face, and I knew he was about to say something I didn't want to hear.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"My parents said after I finish finals, we're moving back to Chicago," he said slowly.

I felt as though a ton of bricks had been dropped on me. "You're...you're moving away?" I said as I fell into my chair. "There's a lot of distance between Florida and Illinois."

"That's why I want you to come with me," he said as he took my hand in his.

"I...I can't, Zack. What will people say? What will your parents say? I'm your teacher. I'm 23-years-old."

"Forget all that! They'll get used to it! All they'd have to do is get to know you and find out how much we love each other," he begged.

"I...I can't. I've got a job here. I've made a life here. I can't go with you, I'm sorry," I said as tears began to swell in my eyes. I looked into his crystal blue eyes that were forming the same tears. "You're 18-years-old. Can't you just stay here?"

"My dad got a job working construction up there. He says there's room for me. I can't stay here because I don't have a job and no way to support myself. I have to go, I have no choice."

He wrapped his arms around me in an embrace I'll never forget. Was this really the end of us? He leaned in and kissed me and turned around to walk out the door.

The next two weeks were spent in grief. I was hoping they would drag on but they flew by and it felt only like a few days. Zack took his finals and passed with flying colors. The last day of the semester was a hard one, and my students noticed my somber state.

"Are you okay, Miss Bennington?" asked Angela.

"Yeah, I've just got a lot to deal with in my personal life. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring it into the classroom," I replied soberly.

When the bell rang and all the other students cleared out, cheering with happiness that finals were over and they had a two-week break ahead, Zack was the only one who remained. He rose from his desk and walked over to mine. I stood to meet him, knowing that this was the last time I was going to see him, to hold him, to kiss him. He took both my hands in his and kissed me – another long and passionate kiss.

"I'll never forget you," he said in a broken voice. "Maybe when I save up some money I can come back?"

"I'd like that." I smiled, even though tears were streaming down my face.

"Well...I guess this is goodbye," he whispered.

"How about see you later instead of goodbye? I like the sound of that better," I said through tears.

"Okay. See you later. I love you, Shasta."

"I love you too, Zack. See you later."

He kissed me one last time and turned and walked out the door. And just like that, he was gone. He boarded a plane at five that evening and took with him a piece of my heart.

What I learned from my experience with Zack is that two people can fall in love under any circumstance. It doesn't matter if other people deem it as wrong; love is pure and true and will conquer all if you're ready to face the battle. I just wasn't ready to face that battle. I also learned that if I set my mind to it, I can always get what I want. And that's what I'm going to do from now on – get what I want.

Do you like this book? Be sure to read this complete series

The Sexy Teacher (5 Erotic Short Stories)

***

Schoolyard Bully

***

Synopsis

Fannie Riggs has always been a big girl. She comes from a big family who unfortunately hadn't seen the irony of the name they had given her. As a kid, the school bully had relentlessly tortured her for six years until he finally moved away before high school. That was when Fannie re-invented herself. She began working on her self-confidence and sense of style while putting the past behind her. By the time Fannie graduated high school, she was on her way to law school and the fast track to the life she had always dreamed of. Fannie's about to get a big surprise, however, when she lands an interview for the perfect job as an associate in a prestigious law firm. She's brought face to face with her past, as the bully of her childhood, becomes her colleague. Meanwhile, strange things start to happen. She's locked in a stairwell, and her car is vandalized. Can Grant, the firm's investigator, help her find out who is behind it before the past begins to swallow her future?

***

CHAPTER ONE

Fannie Riggs sat in her car outside of the law firm of Smyth, Banyan and Smyth, where her interview to become an associate with the firm was scheduled to take place in less than thirty minutes. She had picked out her outfit three days ago. She'd made it herself, and it was both strictly business, and flattering in all the right places. She had gone to her favorite salon and had her blonde hair highlighted two days prior, and she had visited her dentist the day before for teeth whitening. She was well prepared for this interview. She knew her stuff; she had graduated Magna Cum Laude from her law school at the University of Chicago and had just completed an internship at one of the largest law firms in the Chicago area. She should be strutting into this interview with her head held high, confident in the fact that she was the right person, maybe the only person for the job.

Yet, here she sat in her car, thinking about her parents. Fannie loved her mom and dad. They were the kind of parents that most kids only dreamed about. Mom always had something fresh baked waiting for her after school. Both of her parents routinely attended all of her school events. She had everything a little girl could want or need within reason, and she never doubted that she was loved. Now however, as she tried to prepare herself mentally for what could be the biggest interview of her legal career, she couldn't stop wondering why. She had wondered about it before, and had even come close once to asking them about it. She had stopped herself though, telling herself that it was really a moot point, and there was no reason to hurt their feelings by bringing it up. She wondered about it again now, to the point to where she almost picked her cell phone up off the seat next to her and called her mother.

Fannie could hear how the conversation would go in her head. It would be something like,

Fannie: "Hey, Mom."

Mom: "Hi, Fannie, I thought you had your interview this morning."

Fannie: "I do, but I had to ask you a question."

Mom: "What's that, dear?"

Fannie: "What were you and Dad thinking when you named me? I mean, didn't you think that a big girl named Fannie Riggs might just be too much for the ruthless elementary school bullies to pass up on?"

Mom: "I'm sorry, dear, we named you after your father's Aunt Fannie."

Fannie: "I know, Mom. But Aunt Fannie was born in a different age. Kids at school weren't dying to share with her the obvious fact that Riggs rhymes with "Biggs" and "Pigs", or that Fannie is obviously just another name for butt. We both know how much butt I have, Mother. I just had to know if you and Dad gave that any thought before you named me."

Mom: "No, dear, I'm sorry. We didn't. Come by after your interview, and I'll make you some cookies, okay?"

Fannie: "Chocolate chip?"

Fannie snapped back to reality. She had learned to live with her name, and by the time she had gotten to college, and then law school, it hadn't been an issue any longer, until now. Now she sat and wondered why two rotund people, who themselves had rotund parents and grandparents and brothers and sisters and a last name like Riggs, wouldn't have given it just a little more thought before they gave her the name Fannie.

Fannie had gotten the referral for this particular job interview from one of the partners at the firm where she had done her internship. They loved Fannie, but they didn't have the resources to take on another paid associate. One of the partners, however, a man named Luke Carter, had known that the law offices of Smyth, Banyan and Smyth were looking for an associate who could be groomed for a future, imminent partnership.

Fannie had been on top of the world. Just the opportunity alone to interview with such a prestigious firm was almost unheard of for a new graduate. She had done her research, and she had made a slightly disturbing discovery. Smyth, Banyan and Smyth had two associates. One of them was moving to take a partnership at a firm in New York, thus leaving the opening for the interview she was attending today. The other associate was a man named Mark A. Lloyd. Mark A. Lloyd was one of Chicago's top defense attorneys. Fannie had heard the name throughout law school, but she had never had the opportunity to meet him, or so she had thought. Doing research about the firm online, Fannie had gone to the law firm's website. Each partner had their own page, and each page contained pictures of all of them at events throughout the city. One face looked so familiar to her. It was hard to tell though, seeing him in one group picture after the other, but when Fannie clicked on the associates page, it was like she had been thrust into a time machine and spit back out on the elementary school playground in the third grade. That was when she had first met Mark A. Lloyd. Only then, Mark had called himself Allen, which was apparently his middle name. Fannie would have never thought that Allen Lloyd, king of the third grade playground, and Mark Lloyd, king of the courtroom, were one and the same.

Fannie had sat there in front of the computer screen and stared at his face. He looked exactly the same, albeit slightly more mature. The last time she had seen him was eighth-grade graduation. Mark "Allen" Lloyd had graduated with her, and after six years of relentless playground torture, he was leaving their school district to go to a private school in the exact part of Chicago where she sat right now, the Near North Side. Fannie had been relieved back then to hear that he was moving on to torment others. She wasn't afraid to admit that she had been so happy for herself, that she wasn't the least bit concerned about his future potential victims. Fannie had allowed herself a few minutes of re-living the agony of elementary school then. Hearing the voice of Allen Lloyd in her head as he and his friends followed her around on the playground calling her things like "Mrs. Pigs," and "Fannie Biggs" and her personal all-time favorite, "Big Riggs."

She shuddered at the memory and then she told herself to get over it and move on. She had done it once already, a long time ago. She had shaken the trauma of their taunts off of her back, and she had gone on in high school to become one of the most popular girls in her class.

Fannie had always been a big girl, but she had a pretty face. Her pretty face and her knack for designing her own clothes that flattered certain parts of her body while concealing others had helped her become part of the "in" crowd. She had gone to all the football games and dances. And for a while, she had even dated the star of the basketball team. Her high school years had been good ones, and her college years even better. She had financed her way through law school by selling some of her clothing designs to a local retail outlet. She was a smart, successful, educated and sophisticated grown woman and elementary school had been a long time ago. She had come too far in her life to allow an old wound to fester. Fannie took a deep breath, and as she let it out, she told herself to blow the past out with it. She checked her reflection in the rear-view mirror one more time, grabbed her briefcase and got out of the car. Smoothing down the one-of-a-kind, made-by-her-own-hands A-line skirt she wore, she put her shoulders back, her chin up and headed toward her future.

***

CHAPTER TWO

"Hello," Fannie said to the impeccably groomed woman who sat behind the desk in the lobby. "My name is Fannie Riggs. I have an appointment with Michael Smyth."

The woman behind the desk smiled at her. "Please have a seat, I'll let Mr. Smyth know you're here."

Fannie thanked her and went over to where two white, rounded suede couches had been arranged around a glass top table with a bouquet of fresh white orchids sitting atop of it. She took her notebook out of her briefcase and used the time while she was waiting to once again go over a few important laws and regulations her friend at the other firm had told her they would be sure to expect her to know. Fannie had already known them, but her type "A" personality had mandated that she write them down anyway, and carry them with her to study until she had memorized them verbatim.

She was reading through them for the third time when the woman behind the counter said, "Miss Riggs, Mr. Smyth will see you now."

Fannie stood up and smiled at her. "Thank you."

The woman directed her to go to the tenth floor and check in with the woman at the desk as she got off the elevator. The elevator was mirrored on all sides, and she took the time again to check her appearance. She was nervous, but it was a good nervous. She knew she had this.

The nagging little thought that Mark Allen Lloyd was going to jump out of his seat and point a finger at her as she walked in and say, "Hey, it's Fannie Big Riggs!" had almost faded into her subconscious by the time she stepped off the elevator onto the tenth floor.

The tenth floor had dark cherry wood walls and thick red carpeting that her heels sank into as she walked. The leather couches in this office lobby were black. Fannie went up to the desk where another immaculately dressed and groomed woman sat. "Hello, I'm Fannie Riggs. I'm here to see Mr. Smyth."

The woman smiled. "Yes, he's expecting you. Please have a seat, and I'll let him know you're here."

The woman had on a headset, and she pushed a button next to her ear. "Mr. Smyth, Miss Riggs is here now."

Almost immediately, the heavy door to the inner office was opened and Michael Smyth appeared in the doorway. He was an older man, Fannie guessed maybe sixty-five or seventy, with snow-white hair. It was a beautiful head of hair, and styled professionally no doubt. He wore a three-piece suit and tie that Fannie would bet he had paid upwards of two thousand dollars for.

He smiled at her and said, "Miss Riggs?"

Fannie stood up. "Yes, sir."

He put his hand out and she shook it. "I'm Michael Smyth. Thank you for coming in today. Come on in, we're ready for you."

Fannie took a deep breath to steady her nerves and followed him into the office. She found three other people waiting for her inside of the office; one of those people was Mark Lloyd.

"Gentlemen, this is Miss Fannie Riggs. Miss Riggs, this is Harlan Banyan and the other fellow there in the middle is my son Trenton Smyth. On the far right is Mark Lloyd."

Fannie said hello to all three of the men as Michael introduced them. They each got up and reached across the table between them to shake her hand and welcome her. When it was Mark's turn, Fannie forced herself to look directly into his eyes. He smiled at her as they shook hands, but she didn't see a flicker of recognition on his face.

She took the offered seat, and they began the interview. They asked her all of the standard questions about why she wanted to work there and what were her strengths and weaknesses. Fannie had prepared for them all and when everything was said and done, she thought that it had gone very well.

Mark had asked her some specific questions about case law, and Fannie had given him an answer that seemed to satisfy him both times. The interview lasted about forty minutes, and when it was finished, they all shook her hand again, thanked her for coming, and Michael Smyth walked her back out front.

"Thank you again for coming, Miss Riggs," he told her.

"Please," she said, "call me Fannie."

"You will hear from us by the beginning of next week, Fannie," he told her.

Fannie thanked him and left. She had a good feeling about it, but it would still be a long week, waiting for that phone call. Fannie couldn't help wondering if Mark had recognized her. If he had, he hadn't given any indication. She had to wonder though how a person could forget a name they had used to personally torture a person with for six years of their life, even if he didn't recognize her face?

She spent the next few days trying to do things that would distract her from obsessing about the phone call. She had finished her internship, so she no longer had a job to go to every day. She did draw and send some new designs over to the woman who was her contact at the retail outlet. Petra turned Fannie's designs into patterns, and the clothes were made and sold via an outlet website for Big Beautiful Women.

Fannie also spent some time visiting her mom and her Aunt June and Uncle Max who lived across the river. She always ate way too much when she visited her family. They were all fantastic cooks, and since Fannie lived alone and didn't cook very often, she would usually overdose on home-cooked meals when she was at home.

She did some deep cleaning around her apartment that she hadn't had time to do while she was working and attending school. She caught up with friends she had put on the back burner as well, mostly by phone. She did have one friend in particular who had been feeling left out of her life lately and needed more nurturing than a phone call. She called Paul up on Thursday and invited him to have lunch with her on Friday. They met at noon at a coffee house/sandwich shop near her home.

Fannie and Paul had been friends since freshman year in high school. They used to have lunch or dinner at least once or twice a week before Fannie started law school. Once she started however, their get togethers had dwindled down to one or two a month, and that was in a good month.

Paul was already there when Fannie got to the coffee shop, sitting at a table near the back.

When he saw her come in, he stood up and, in typical Paul style, he opened his arms wide. "Where have you been all my life, you fabulous babe, you?"

Fannie walked into his open arms and let him hug her tight. Fannie had always wished that there had been some kind of spark between them. They were so much alike, and neither of them had much luck in the arena of love. She had always thought it would have been great to fall in love with your best friend.

Paul held her back at arm's length and looked at her. "Did you make this outfit?" he asked her, turning her around so that he could get a 360-degree look.

"Yep, I sure did," she told him with a grin. "What do you think?"

"I think you're amazing," he said, sitting down. Fannie sat too and Paul asked her, "Tell me again why you want to be a lawyer instead of a rich, famous fashion designer?"

Fannie laughed. "I just like making clothes for myself. I know my own body, and the stores don't sell pretty clothes for "big girls" like me. I wouldn't want to do it every day, all day long."

"But defending murderers and rapists and God knows what else appeals to you?" Paul asked.

"Alleged murderers, rapists and God knows what else," she said with a grin.

"Icky," he said. "You already sound like a lawyer."

Fannie laughed. "Thanks. Just wait, one of these days when you need an attorney, you'll be happy to have me to call upon."

"You think I'll need a criminal lawyer someday?" he asked her with a hurt look.

"No, but I'm sure one of those questionable women that you date will."

"Are we going to eat?" he asked, changing the subject. Paul had been in two serious relationships since Fannie had known him. One had ended with the woman throwing all of his things out in the snow and then slashing all of the furniture with a knife before finally vacating his house. The second became a stalker, or maybe she always had been. She followed him everywhere, and would just sit outside in her car until he came out, and then follow him home. Fannie had helped him get a restraining order, and the woman had violated it within two weeks. After spending a few nights in jail, the woman decided to forget about Paul and move on to her next victim.

They ordered their lunch and coffee, and then Paul asked her how the interview had gone. She told him about it, and that she was sure she had done great.

Paul laughed. "I wish I had your self-confidence."

Fannie smiled and held her thumb and forefinger slightly apart. "I was this close to losing it right before I went in. I sat in the car for twenty minutes before I worked up the nerve to go inside."

"You? I don't believe it. What on Earth could have made my Fannie Riggs nervous?"

"His name is Mark Allen Lloyd," she said.

Paul knew who Mark was. Fannie had told him about Mark long ago when they had first met in high school. She had also told him that Mark was an associate at the firm before she went for her interview.

"Oh wow, I almost forgot about him. How was it, seeing your childhood bully again face to face?"

"It was terrifying," she said. "I seriously almost ran. It took everything in me to get out of that car and go in, and once I did, I realized that he didn't even know who I was anymore."

"He probably didn't recognize you as a confident, independent strong, beautiful woman," Paul said.

"Probably not," Fannie told him with a grin. "Will you marry me?"

* * *

Fannie's cell phone was ringing as she tried to unlock her apartment door and juggle a bag of groceries. She dropped her keys as she fished the phone out of her bag. When she saw the caller I.D., she dropped the groceries too.

"Hello?" she said, trying not to sound as anxious as she felt.

"Hi, Fannie? This is Mike Smyth."

"Yes, this is Fannie. Hi, Mr. Smyth."

"Please, Fannie, call me Mike. We're going to be working together; we should be on a first-name basis. That is, if you'd still like to come to work for us?"

Fannie wanted to scream. She wanted to squeal and jump up and down like she did when she had been a little kid and was excited about something. She didn't though. Instead, she worked on controlling her breathing. "Absolutely, Mike. Thank you. I'm really looking forward to it."

"Good!" Mike said, enthusiastically. "How about eight o'clock on Monday morning. You can get in on our weekly meeting."

"That sounds perfect," she told him, screaming, "Yes, yes, yes!" inside her head. "I'll be there. Thank you, again."

Fannie hung up the phone, looked up and down the hall and when she didn't see anyone there, she did a happy dance. She picked up her keys and her groceries then and went inside. She couldn't wait to call her mom and dad, and Paul. Fannie finally had everything she wanted. Well, almost everything, she thought, as she heated up her take-out dinner for one.

Someone had seen Fannie's dance. They had been hiding in the shadows near the stairwell watching her. As they watched her hang up her phone and wiggle those big hips around the watcher thought, "Go ahead and get all of your happy out now. Soon happiness will only be a fond memory."

CHAPTER THREE

Monday morning rolled around quickly, but Fannie was ready for it. She had a new outfit that she had worked on all weekend. It was a dark green silk pantsuit. The top she wore under the jacket had a thick row of light green lace that peeked out just above the line of her jacket that was fitted at the waist and flared slightly over her hips, giving them a considerably slimmer appearance. She switched her things over from her black briefcase to the new green paisley one that she had bought over the weekend and slipped on her dark green pumps. She glanced at herself in the hallway mirror. She was ready.

"Look out, Mark Allen Lloyd, here I come," she said aloud to the empty room.

* * *

Fannie walked back into the tall building in Near North Chicago. This time she was ready to take on the world. She smiled at the girl at the desk as she got on the elevator, pushing the number ten as she did. When the doors slid open on the tenth floor, Fannie Riggs, esquire, stepped off. She smiled at the woman who sat at the desk here as well and asked, "Would you mind pointing me toward where the Monday morning meeting would be?"

The woman told her to go down the long hall to her right until she got to conference room one. Then she said, "Welcome to the firm, Miss Riggs."

Fannie smiled. "Thank you. And please, call me Fannie."

Mike and his son, Trenton, were the only two in the conference room when Fannie got there. She was glad. She hated being the last one to walk into a room. Mike greeted her warmly and welcomed her. Trenton did the same. There were coffee, tea and bagels on the table and Mike told her to help herself. Fannie had too much nervous energy to eat, but she poured herself a cup of coffee. She had just sat down at the table when Mark and Harlan came in.

The woman who normally sat at the desk came in with them, tablet in hand. She sat next to Fannie. "We were never formally introduced. I'm Lisa Phelps. I'm Mr. Smyth's administrative assistant."

"Good to meet you," Fannie told her. "I'm thrilled to be here."

"I know they're thrilled to have you," Lisa told her. "You came highly recommended."

Two other people came in, a young man and woman. Lisa told Fannie they were the firm's paralegals, Dan and Susan. Mike looked around the room to make sure they were all there and then he said, "Okay people, let's get started."

Mark had been talking to Trenton and had yet to look in Fannie's direction. When he did, she smiled at him. He smiled back, still showing no signs of recognition. Fannie couldn't help but notice how attractive he was. His hair was almost black, and he had light blue eyes surrounded by long, dark lashes. It was funny, but Fannie didn't remember him being good looking before. She smiled to herself as she thought that could have been because he was such a little shit back when she had known him.

Mike started the meeting out by saying, "Our first order of business is to welcome our new associate. I'd like you all to welcome Miss Fannie Riggs to our firm. She's a recent graduate of Chicago University Law School, where she graduated Magna Cum Laude. She completed a very successful internship with Hanson, Parker and Franken recently and comes to us highly recommended."

Fannie's face felt warm, and she knew she was blushing as the others applauded and welcomed her. She glanced over at Mark, and he lifted his coffee cup and tipped it in her direction. She wondered if he would be so gracious if he actually remembered who she was.

Mike went on from there to discuss the two biggest cases their firm was working on. One of them was defending an accused drug dealer. Mike said that the D.A. was accusing the client of having ties to a Mexican drug cartel. The client, of course, denied this. Mike didn't seem to care either way. He just wanted to know what the investigator had found out that they could use to discredit the witnesses in the case.

He looked around after he had asked the question and said, "Damnit! Where is Grant?"

No one seemed to know. Mike looked at Lisa then and said, "Go call him and tell him to get his ass to work."

Lisa left and Mike went on. He asked Harlan and Mark where they were at on the murder case they were working.

"Almost ready to go to trial," Mark told him. "Jury selection begins on Wednesday."

"Great," Mike said. "Make sure that Zane is there." He looked at Fannie. "I'm sorry, Fannie. Grant is our investigator. He's the best in the business, but he avoids these meetings like the black plague. Zane is our jury consultant. He's also the best in the business. He's an expert in human behavior."

Fannie was taking notes as he talked. She wanted to make sure and remember names of people who she would be doing business with routinely. Mike seemed to approve of that. Mark glanced at her a few times, and once, Fannie caught him staring at her. She wondered if he was beginning to remember where he knew her from.

Lisa came back and whispered something to Mike that made him scowl. Apparently Grant, the investigator, wouldn't be making the meeting.

Mike called the meeting to a close, and took Fannie aside. "Why don't you have Lisa direct you to personnel? They have paperwork for you to fill out. That will probably take most of the rest of your day. Tomorrow you can work with Mark. I'll have him bring you up to speed on the case he's working and you can sit in on the jury selection on Wednesday."

"Sure, Mike. Thanks," Fannie said. She was excited about being in on a murder case from the start, but the idea of working that closely with Mark made her a little nervous. She'd have to work through it though. She wasn't going to screw this up.

On her way out to talk to Lisa, Fannie bumped into Susan, one of the paralegals as they were going out the door. "I'm sorry," she said to the girl and smiled.

Susan didn't look like she was planning to smile back, until she noticed that Lisa was looking at them. She smiled then, what looked like a forced smile. "It's fine." She walked away quickly then and left Fannie looking after her.

She forgot about it quickly, however, and went over to talk to Lisa. Lisa told her that personnel was on the third floor. Fannie walked over and was about to push the down button on the elevator when the doors slid open and out walked Crocodile Dundee.

The man looked so out of place in this upscale city building that Fannie assumed he must be a client, or maybe even a deliveryman. He was wearing faded jeans and dusty brown boots. His shirt was one hundred percent cotton, and one hundred percent not ironed. His hat was made of brown suede and was shaped just like the one that Paul Hogan wore in the Crocodile Dundee movies. The hatband even looked as if it could be made from a snakeskin. Other than his poor choice of attire, however, he was definitely nice to look at. His short-sleeved wrinkled shirt showed off his nicely developed biceps quite nicely.

He looked at Fannie and tipped his hat slightly in her direction. She smiled and gave him a nod. As the door to the elevator was sliding closed in front of her, she noticed how green his eyes were, and that he hadn't looked away. Fannie was suddenly warm all over, and she felt like she needed a glass of cold water. When she got off on the third floor, she bent over and drank from the water fountain for a good two minutes before she felt her body cooling down. She shook off the image of the rugged-looking Aussie character and got back to business, spending most of the rest of the day doing paperwork so that she could get paid to do her new job.

* * *

Fannie woke up with butterflies in her stomach the next morning. She had to spend the day with Mark Lloyd. If someone had told her when she was thirteen years old that such a thing would ever happen, she would have told them that they were crazy. Here she was though, fixing herself an Alka-Seltzer cocktail first thing in the morning, before she'd even had her coffee, wondering if the outfit she had chosen for the day made her hips look too big.

After she showered, her stomach finally felt settled enough to have her coffee. She sipped it as she put on her outfit. She had chosen a white tank-ini, a pair of brown slacks and a chocolate blazer that came down low over her derriere in back. She applied her makeup and once her hair was blow dried, she carefully flat-ironed it, wondering why she was so eager to impress this guy. Since high school, Fannie had taken on a "Take me or leave me" attitude, and until now, no one had shaken it. She couldn't believe that a few mean words that had been spoken over a decade ago could still shake her up. _Okay, it was more than a few mean words._ From what Fannie had seen in the media, nowadays a kid could get expelled from school for the things Mark had said to her back then.

Fannie called Paul before she left for work. Her confidence level needed a boost before she spent the day with her childhood bully. "Hey, I need some words of wisdom," she said when he picked up the phone.

"You mean you need me to tell you that you are fabulous and amazing and that any man would be lucky to have you?" he asked.

Fannie laughed. "No, but that's nice to hear too," she said. "I have to work with Mark today. Should I just tell him who I am and get it over with?"

"If it matters that much to you, sweetheart," he told her. "I'm surprised though. The Fannie that I know and love wouldn't give a shit what he thought."

She smiled. "I like your Fannie better than the one I'm sitting here with this morning. I think I'll try going with yours. Hopefully mine will sit quietly and mind her own business."

"You're gonna knock 'em dead, babe," Paul told her. "I love you."

"I love you too, thanks." She felt better after hanging up. Paul always made her feel better. She didn't even need him to tell her what to do. Just the fact that he was always willing to listen was enough.

CHAPTER FOUR

Fannie got to the office before Mark. Lisa took her to the office that would be hers and got her set up with a phone and computer. "There's a store room down at the end of the hall where you'll find paper and pens and other office supplies when you're ready."

Fannie thanked her and when Lisa left she sat down at the desk. The office was small, and only had one tiny little window, but Fannie was so excited about it that she wanted to do her happy dance again. The next minute, she was glad she hadn't cut loose yet because Mark walked in.

"Good morning, Fannie," he said. "What do you think of your office?"

"I love it," she told him honestly.

"Good," he said with a smile. "Your first job as a real-live attorney is pretty exciting."

"I am ecstatic beyond words," she said. "I'm super excited to hear about your murder case too."

"Okay then, let's get started," he told her. "Why don't we go to my office? I have my files and everything there."

Fannie got up and followed him down the hall. His office was a little larger than hers, and she was a tiny bit jealous of his big window that looked out over the city. She told herself that she would get there one day. Mark sat down behind his desk and told her to have a seat in the leather chair that faced him.

"So," he started. "Our client is a young woman who is accused of killing her husband, mother-in-law and sister-in-law and then burning down the house to destroy evidence. She's only twenty-five years old, and the state of Illinois wants to put her behind bars for the rest of her life."

"Did she do it?" Fannie asked him.

Mark grinned. _Damn is he good-looking_.

"I don't know," he told her. "We don't ask. It'll take you a while to get used to that, probably. You'll have to remember what we're taught in law school about how everyone deserves a solid defense."

Fannie nodded. "Yes, it will take me some time to get used to not knowing. How did she allegedly kill them?"

"With a shotgun," he told her. "They were all shot with a shotgun at close range and then kerosene was poured over the bodies and throughout the house. The perpetrator made a trail to the front door and lit the fire on his or her way out. Our client has an alibi. She was in Evanston at her company Christmas party."

"They were killed at Christmas time? How awful for the family."

"Yes, it was a terrible tragedy."

"What evidence do they have against her?" Fannie asked.

"Well, the shotgun was found in the fire. They were able to lift a few prints off of it. One was the deceased husband's and the other two were our client's. They also have a witness who says they saw her leave the party at nine that night and return around eleven. The district attorney believes that would have given her enough time to drive home, kill the family, burn the house and drive back. She denies ever leaving, and we have our own witnesses who say she was there the entire time."

"What does our client do for a living?" Fannie asked, curious about what kind of clientele the firm serves.

"She's the manager of a large string of hotels that her father-in-law owns."

"Does her father-in-law think that she's guilty?" Fannie asked.

"I doubt it," Mark told her. "He's the one paying for her defense."

Mark let her read the history on the woman and the rest of the family while he returned a few phone calls. The husband's father was extremely wealthy, and Fannie found it odd that the woman had worked for him, but the man's son had not. Instead, the man their client was accused of killing was actually in the landscaping business, and according to the files, he hadn't landscaped any of the hotels that his family owned. The father-in-law had been at the party their client attended that night as well, leaving Fannie to wonder why the husband, his mother and his sister had been at home.

When Mark was finished on the phone, Fannie asked if the client could explain that. It was something that any defense attorney would be ready for the prosecutor to ask about.

"She says that the mother-in-law wasn't feeling well. She does admit that she and her husband had not been on the best of terms, and the father had cut the daughter off long ago. That's what the prosecution is using against her. They are even trying to prove that our client was having an affair with her father-in-law. She denies that as well, saying that she is close to him like a daughter, but not in that way."

"Are there any other suspects?" she asked.

"There's an ex-business partner of the husband with a big grudge. He had allegedly cut him out of the landscaping business and never re-paid the investment that the partner had initially made. There was a lawsuit pending, but it hadn't gone to court yet. We have Grant looking for him. He seems to have vanished, and the police think they have their killer so they're not interested in finding him."

"Won't it be worse for her if you find him and he has an alibi?"

"If he does, no one needs to know we found him," Mark said, just as a matter of fact. "I'm going to ask Lisa to order up some Chinese food for lunch. Anything in particular that you like?"

"Um, no," she said. "Whatever is fine." He excused himself and Fannie continued to look through the case files. She heard someone come in and didn't look up right away, assuming that it was Mark. When she looked up at last, she saw a pair of blue jeans in her peripheral vision.

"Oh, hi," she said, turning to face Crocodile Dundee once more.

"Hey," he said. He didn't have an Australian accent when he spoke, and Fannie found herself almost disappointed by that fact. "Is Mark here?"

"Yes," she said, standing up. "He went to talk to Lisa. I'm Fannie Riggs, by the way,"

"Okay," he said and started toward the door.

"Excuse me," Fannie called after him. "Who are you?"

The man turned back toward her. "I'm Grant. I work here." He turned around then and left the office.

_Wow_. Counting the paralegal, Susan, Grant was the second rude employee of the firm she had met today. She shook her head and went back to reading the files. It looked like Harlan was actually the father-in-law's attorney. Mark had joined in on the case so that she and the father-in-law would each be represented in case the prosecutor at the last minute called him out. From what Fannie had read about Mark since getting the interview for this job, this woman was lucky to have him. In three years with the firm, Mark hadn't lost a single case.

To Fannie's chagrin, Mark came back with Grant in tow. "Have you two met?" Mark asked.

Fannie forced a smile. "Yes, we have."

Grant only nodded again in her direction.

"Grant was just telling me that he has a lead on the business partner. He's possibly in Toronto. Grant's going to fly out there this afternoon and see what he can find out."

Grant eventually left and apparently returned to his own office.

While they ate lunch, Mark went over his and Harlan's defense strategy with her. As they were wrapping up the day, Mark finally said, "Have you and I met before?"

So there it was. Fannie wasn't sure what course of action would be best to take here. What if she told him who she was and it reminded him of how distasteful he used to find her? She could just pretend like she didn't remember where they knew each other from, but then if he ultimately remembered, he might think she was pretending not to know him because he intimidated her.

She finally just decided to bite the bullet. "Washington Elementary School, and Lincoln Junior High, class of 1998."

Mark still looked uncertain, but then a sudden look of horror crossed his face, and Fannie knew that he was remembering. "Oh my goodness," he said at last. "Fannie Riggs. I'll be damned. I'm surprised you didn't walk in and punch me in the face."

Fannie had to laugh at that. "I can't lie and say that I didn't consider it. But I really wanted this job."

Mark smiled, but sadly. "I was such a little jerk. Does saying I'm sorry now even matter?"

She smiled back. "It's fine. We all do things we regret when we're kids."

"It's not fine, but you're nice to say so. I wish there was a way I could make it up to you. I was so mean."

"Yes, you were," she said with a grin. She stood up and picked up her briefcase.

"Forgive me?" he asked. She could tell that although he may be genuinely regretful, he was used to being able to flash those baby blues and wipe pretty much any slate clean.

"We'll see," she said with another grin. "Good-night, Mark."

"Good night, Fannie," he said, watching her go.

**CHAPTER FIVE**

Fannie took the stairwell down and out to the parking garage. When she reached the fifth floor, she thought that she heard a door open and close right above her. She didn't hear any footsteps however. She thought that was strange, but didn't dwell on it. When she got to the second floor, she went through the door that led to the garage. Her car was on the first level, so she went into the stairwell of the garage.

As she descended, she again heard the sound of a door, but no footsteps. She was starting to get just a little bit creeped out. She hurried up to the door on the first floor and pushed on it. The door didn't budge. She could hear footsteps now. She couldn't tell if they were going up or down. She turned and climbed back up to the second floor door she had just come through. She pushed on it, and found that one locked too. She could still hear the footsteps above her so she knocked loudly on the door and yelled out, "Hello, can you help me please? Hello!"

The footsteps continued to get further away. Fannie continued banging on that door for a few minutes, and then she returned down to the first floor and started yelling and banging on that one. She did that until she had worn herself out. Finally remembering her cell phone, she sat down on the bottom step and took it out. She looked up the firm's number and dialed it. The call didn't connect; it only made a strange beeping noise in her ear. Fannie looked at the screen. She had no signal in here.

"Damn it!" she said, out loud. She stood up again and started pounding on the door again.

"Who's down there?"

"Hello?" she called up. "It's me, Fannie. I'm stuck between the first and second floors. Both doors are locked."

She could hear someone trying to open the door on the second floor. She ran up the stairs to the stairwell door. "Hello, are you still there?"

Whoever had been there was gone now. She tried the door again and found that it was still locked. She wanted to cry. She sat back down on the stairs, not knowing what to do. Five minutes or so passed, and she was just about to start banging and yelling again when she heard footsteps.

"Hello!" she yelled, knocking on the door again with the palm of her hand.

"Hello," a man's voice called out. "We're unlocking the door now, Miss."

She heard the key jangle and then the door was pushed open. "Oh thank God," Fannie said when she saw the custodian with a shirt that said _Stan_ standing there. When she stepped out of the stairwell, she saw Grant was there as well.

"How'd you get locked in there?" he asked her.

"I have no idea," she said. "I went in on the second floor and found the first floor locked. When I went back to the second floor, that one was locked too. Do they lock automatically?" she asked Stan.

"No, you have to lock them with a key," Stan told her.

"Who all has keys?" Grant asked him.

"There's one on my set, and another one on the master set in Mr. Smyth's office," Stan told them. "I'll talk to Mr. Smyth and find out who had access to them. I'm sorry about that, Miss. I'll head down now and open the first floor too. Gimme just a minute."

Fannie smiled at him. "It's okay now that I'm out. Thank you."

The man gave her a nod and a smile and left.

She looked at Grant then, who was still staring at her. "Thank you too."

"Sure," he said. "Are you parked on the first floor?"

"Yes," she told him.

"I'll walk down with you," he said.

She didn't argue; she was a little shaky still and hadn't been looking forward to going back in there alone.

"Thank you," she said again, following him back into the stairwell. When they got to the first floor, he pushed on the door and it opened. "Whew," she said with a grin.

Grant looked at her and smiled. It was the first genuine smile she had seen on him. It made him even more attractive.

"I really do appreciate your help," she told him.

"Where are you parked?" he asked.

"I'm right over there," she said. He didn't leave, so she just headed for her car and when she realized that he was following her she said, "I'm okay now."

"I just want to make sure," he said. "Don't you find it strange that someone locked you in that stairwell?"

Fannie stopped and turned to look at him. "You think someone did that on purpose?"

Grant shrugged. "I just want to make sure."

Fannie found her car, thanked him again, and then as she went to unlock it, she said, "Oh my God!"

Grant came over to where she was standing between her car and the one parked next to her. The windshield looked like it had been hit with a rock. Worse than that though, on the side of her red car the word _Pigg_ had been spray painted in bold black letters.

Grant asked her to unlock the car. After he checked out the inside, he told her, "Wait here, don't move." He went looking around the rest of the garage. When he came back he said, "I don't see anyone. I'll have security pull the tapes. We better have the police come down and get a report also."

Fannie had tears in her eyes that she was trying to hold back. She couldn't believe this was happening. She was living her dream, and she wasn't harming a soul doing it. Who would want to do this to her?

She nodded at Grant, knowing that if she spoke it would release the water works. It wasn't until he asked if she were okay that she lost it. She leaned into her car and let the tears finally flow. After a few minutes, she felt a warm hand on her back. She looked up and saw Grant looking at her helplessly. That made her start crying again, so he just pulled her into his chest and held her while she cried it out.

* * *

Mark opened the door of his apartment and found Susan sitting on his couch in her hot pink bra and panties. He sighed. "How did you get in here?"

He and Susie had a brief affair a few months before, but beyond that, they hadn't really had anything in common. Mark had broken it off, but Susie obviously wasn't getting it.

"You gave me a key," she said.

"Susie, that was to feed the cat and water the plants when I went out of town. I just forgot to ask for it back. I surely didn't expect you to use it to sit naked on my couch."

Susan giggled. "But do you like it?" she said, trying to sound seductive.

Mark looked her up and down. She was kind of a pain in his ass but damn the girl was hot in bed. He sat down the briefcase he carried. "I only have about an hour. I have dinner with Harlan and one of our clients at seven."

Susan reached up behind her and unhooked her bra, letting her size D-cup breasts fall out.

"That's plenty of time," she said, licking her lips.

If Mark hadn't been horny already, he was now. He felt his pants grow tighter as his manhood swelled and began aching to get out. He walked over toward her and grabbed a handful of the soft flesh she had been flaunting.

"You can't let yourself in here again, Susie, okay?" he told her as he fondled them.

She said, "Umm hmm."

He leaned in and kissed her neck. "I mean it."

"Okay," she said breathlessly as his mouth found her left nipple. He ran his tongue around the outside of her dark red areola, making her squirm.

He traced a path back up to her lips with his tongue, and as he slipped it into her mouth, his right hand found its way into her tiny little pink panties. As he fondled her, he reached up with the other hand and wrapped his fingers through her hair.

Tugging on it enough to pull her head backwards so he could see her face, he said, "This is the last time, Susie. I mean it."

She nodded and made a sound that seemed to come from somewhere deep in her throat. He was enjoying watching her face as his fingers found their way inside of her where she was warm and wet. She moved her hips back and forth and moaned.

Finally, seeming like she couldn't take it any longer, she said, "I want you inside of me, Mark, please."

Mark smiled. "Doesn't that feel good?" he asked her, putting his mouth close to her ear.

"God, yes," she whispered in a husky voice.

"You want me to stop?" he said.

"Only if we can go to your bed and finish this," she told him.

He let go of her hair and let his hand slide down her back, grabbing a handful of her backside he pulled her close, smashing her breasts against his chest, and rubbing himself on her through his pants. He was about to explode.

He whispered in her ear again, "I really, really mean it, Susie. This is the last time."

Susie pushed her hips into him. "Then let's make it the best time."

Mark stripped out of his suit as he followed her down the hall, leaving things where they fell. Susan laid down on her back on the bed and watched him finish stripping.

He stood naked in front of her. "Take off your panties."

She sat up at the edge of the bed facing him and as she bent forward to slip them off one leg, she flicked her tongue out and made contact with his skin, sending jolts of electricity up his spine. She did it again as she slid the other leg out, and this time he took her head in his hands and pressed her into him.

He watched her as he felt her, and God it was good. He let her go at it for a really long time. He decided that this would be all they were going to do when his body took on a mind of its own. He found himself pushing her back on the bed and climbing on top of her. Fireworks exploded in his head as he slipped inside of her warmth and wetness. She thrust her hips, working him like a pro. Just as he thought that perhaps he should have used a condom, he realized that it was too late.

Do you like this book? Be sure to check other books in this series

Love and Chinese Food - Volume 2

Twisted Sisters - Volume 3

Big Riggs (Trilogy Bundle)

***

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Hunting Hearts: Boxed Set (The Complete Collection, Books 1-6)

Phases of Passion: Boxed Set (The Complete Collection, Book 1-6)

Broken Wheel Wolves: Boxed Set (The Complete Collection, Books 1-6)

Lynxar Series: Books 1-6 (6-Book Bundle)

Lynxar Series - The Vampire King: Books 7-13 (7-Book Bundle)

Lynxar Series: Boxed Set (Books 14-19)

***

**OTHER FREE BOOK COLLECTIONS AND BOOKS**

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Hearts Aflame Collection II: 4-Book Bundle

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Lynxar (Lynxar Series, Book 1)

Lynxar's searching Heart (Lynxar Series - The Vampire King, Book 7)

The Stone Protector (Keepers of the Flame, Book 1)

