With Just Cause by Jackie Ivie

Author:Jackie Ivie
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: cowboy, assassins, vampires romance paranormal short stories anthology

CHAPTER SIX

The riot of pleasure ebbed in spurts that matched the twitches of his body. He’d never felt anything like this. Not even when he’d lived. His limbs felt leaden. His muscles like mush. Shaky. Weak. Completely satiated. Grimm moved his head down, took in her dew-touched gaze, and smiled, making certain his lips stayed atop any uncommon feature.

He couldn’t tell her just yet. Despite how much he wanted to. He’d never been with a woman like her. Brazen, yet touched with innocence. Alive. Free. Open with her needs and desires and wants. So different, yet... so perfect. Perfection personified.

“Oh, Grimm. Man. That was. It was—I mean. I’ve never. Wow. I mean seriously... wow. I can’t describe it. It was...”

Breath touched his skin with every wonderful word. He had to blink rapidly at an emotion long gone and buried. He licked his lips and answered.

“Yeah. Me too.”

She giggled and Grimm flinched at how that felt. And then he reddened. As impossible as it sounded. He could feel the flush moving along his chest. Down to his... uh... where it was still buried in her sweetness. Flesh to flesh. Naked. He couldn’t even feel his pants. He had to glance away to get his voice to work.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

“You.”

He looked back. His brows rose. “Me?”

“Yes. You. Trying to get a word out of you is like—well. For lack of a better phrase, it’s like pulling teeth.”

“Oh.”

She giggled again. His belly tensed to absorb the feeling again. And then he dropped to her side, separating them and making the mattress sway. He finished with a roll onto his back to look up at the canopy that used to drape his mother’s bed. The one done in the Bradley family color scheme. Same as their livery. Their automobiles. All sorts of shades of red. And gold. He puffed out his lips. He’d snuck in and stolen it while they’d buried her. And nobody ever knew.

“You see?”

“What?” he asked.

“Your loquaciousness. Actually, I’m referring to your lack thereof.”

“What?”

“It’s a fancy word for being talkative.”

“I know. I’ve just never heard anyone use it.”

She giggled again. “Well, I’ve not used it before, either. But it seemed to fit. And you seem to be avoiding the question.”

“What was it again?”

“Your reticence. Like words cost too much, and you’re afraid to upset your bank balance or something.”

She had a great grasp of colorful language. It was entertaining, and slightly challenging to keep up with her. He worked at answering noncommittally, so he wouldn’t sound defensive.

“There’s... not many about to talk to.”

She lifted her head as if to check out the room, and then settled onto a raised elbow in order to look down at him. Grimm didn’t fight locking gazes with her. She was his mate. And he was one lucky fellow. She was beautiful. Candlelight imbued everything with warm soft light, shadowing some places. Enhancing others. Gazing into her eyes was mesmeric. He was willing prey. Baited. Snagged. Caught.

Forever.

She hadn’t used artificial means to darken or thicken or lengthen her lashes.

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