TUESDAY TALE~2

Kathleen Grieve (Contemporary Medical/Paranormal Romance) No consumated sex in this scene, but the heat level is up there and there is profanity, so be warned ahead of time.

Welcome to Tuesday Tales where a group of authors get together and write in their genre to the same prompt.  I'm excited that I was able to work this week's prompt of "LIES" into my current wip, From Lust To Ashes. Here is the first

chapter as I promised my SSS friends as I teased them with a snippet of this last Sunday. Please leave a comment as to what you think. Should I keep going?

(UNEDITED~From Lust To Ashes~)

CHAPTER ONE

“One. Two. Three. Jump!”

  Helicopter blades whirling overhead, Agent Tatum Wilder obeyed the command without hesitation and leapt from the open door into the frozen, black night. Snow swirled around her as she floated toward the ice-covered ground, easily manipulating the lines of her parachute. Crisp winter air chilled her heated face. She landed in the knee deep snow with a thud and easily dispatched her chute.

  The target was close. She cocked her head, listening intently. The whoosh of a blade sliced through the air, then there was a sharp crack before the metal cored through wood. She closed her eyes and inhaled a ragged breath, using her inner sight to size up the male she’d been called upon to seduce. Even at this distance Tatum could sense the heat of well muscled flesh. Blood coursed through his veins. She could even smell the distinct, delicious all male scent as he worked up a sweat.

  Nice.

  He was younger than her last assignment. Thirty something and a former Navy Captain with the nickname “Rockstar” because of his golden good looks and outgoing personality. Her sex clenched. She licked her lips. Her body hummed with anticipation, panties already damp despite the snow drifting lazily to the ground. Wonder how long he will resist before he does as the Sun Counsel mandated?

  Hopefully, a long, long, time. Her lips curved.

  As she drew closer to the cabin, she perceived an inner strength of will that ought to make the night a little more interesting. In the end, his resolve will crumble, and it won’t be long before the former Navy Captain begged for release.

  She stumbled a bit on the icy path. Damn. Weakness began to consume her as The Akthua drew near. Her core body temperature rose with every footfall. Needing the distraction, Tatum had leapt at the chance when Magna offered her this assignment. A superior and the oldest member of the Sun Counsel, Tatum had been surprised Magna hadn’t realized how close she was to The Akthua.

Magna knew everything.

Tatum dismissed the slight wooziness clouding her brain and straightened her spine. She had enough power for good ole Captain Murphy. This was just a quickie. Get in. Get out! She snickered, amused at the innuendo.

Once her assignment was complete, she’d check into Sanctuary and prepare. Not that the healers of Sanctuary could control the excruciating pain she’d suffer as The Akthua consumed her flesh, but the hallowed ground and sacred doors of the temple would keep her safe from Him during her weakened state. Not even the Dark God, Osiris, would risk the wrath by violating Sanctuary’s bylaws. Every supernatural being, hell, even humans were bound to obey.

She rounded the bend and the logged cabin came into view. A single light shone from a downstairs window. The sound of wood chopping grew louder as she approached the back porch. There he was. Sam Murphy in the flesh with arms raised above his head wielding an axe downward in a fluid stroke of strength and masculinity. Hungrily, her gaze traveled over him by the glow of a single lantern. Her keen sense of sight left no detail unnoticed.

Sandy blonde hair damp from the falling snow, unfashionably long and passed his shoulders, curled slightly at the ends. Prominent forehead with darker brows and lashes framed penetrating hazel eyes. Nose, straight and proud, was reddened from the cold. A rough, unkempt beard covered the rest of his face and framed full, sensual lips.

Dressed in a black and grey long sleeved flannel checked shirt, the material drew taught against his broad shoulders, bulging biceps, and tight pecks with each stroke of sharpened blade through the wood. Faded denim hugged tapered hips and well-muscled thighs.

Fascination held Tatum in place. Desire stirred deep within her core and her body temperature shot up another ten degrees. Wetness pooled between her thighs.

Careful, girl. Or the human won’t be able to touch you.

Her breath hitched. Unacceptable! She needed this as much as the Council did. No, she amended. She needed this more. One last physical release to help distract her from the unbearable pain she’d have to endure during Akthua.
The one catch to her immortality sucked.  Tatum began to think that an immortal existence was a bit overrated.  As time spun out, boredom came too easily between assignments. 
 “Who are you and what the hell are you doing on my property?” Sam asked.

Distracted by her need, Tatum hadn’t realized he’d stopped chopping wood. Her gaze focused on his face. The axe rested casually on one shoulder in a deceptively vulnerable pose. Anger burned deep in his eyes and his brows drew together deepening the frown on his face.

Tatum tugged at the drawstring of her hooded cloak and let the heavy material fall to the ground, revealing herself. Thick, straight, deep auburn hair with varying shades of golden highlights wound down past her waist. Lifted lightly by the breeze and dressed in a black leather pantsuit that hugged every feminine curve she possessed, she knew the picture she presented. She smiled. “Agent Tatum Wilder, Captain,” she said, her voice infused with just a hint of a seductive purr. She bent in a mock bow. “At your service.”

“I’m no longer enlisted, so take your sexy vamp ass over the hills and back through the woods and find yourself another blood bag,” he said drawing the axe from his shoulder and holding the handle in preparation to strike.

“A vamp?”Tatum said and laughter erupted. “You…think…I’m…a Vampire?” she said through gasps of merriment. Tears of mirth filled her eyes and she held her abdomen, trying to get a hold of herself.

Uncertainty filled his gaze and the tip of the axe lowered a bit toward the ground. “Well, aren’t you?”

In a swift move of velocity and grace, Tatum zipped behind Captain Murphy and disarmed him, tossing the sharpened axe blade in the center of the back door to the house. Her arm snaked around his neck under his chin, forcing his head to tilt back. She pulled his body flush with hers, pushing her breasts into the muscles of his back. The spicy scent of male mingled with sweat filled her and she drew him in. Her tongue trailed liquid heat along his ear. He stiffened within her embrace. She closed her eyes, savoring the all male strength she held close and inhaled deeply.

“Relax, Rockstar. I’m not going to eat you. And, fyi, I’m not a vampire. If I were, you’d be drained already,” she said. “Why don’t we go inside your cozy little cabin, sit by the fire, and… talk.” With reluctance, she released him and headed toward the porch.

The weight of his angry stare bore into her back as she walked up the steps to the front door. Anticipation and impatience rumbled through her system. “Come along, Sam. I’m hot, needy, and need your stiff cock inside me. What say we get to the good stuff first, explanations later? Whaddya say?”

“Must be a bloody Succubus,” he grumbled following her inside. He closed the door against the blackened frosty night.

“Wrong again,”Tatum declared, surveying the neat, but sparsely furnished room. “For a human, you certainly seem to know a lot about supernatural beings, except the one you’re dealing with at the moment.”

The embers of a fire still burned within the large cobblestoned fireplace that encompassed one wall. A beaten up leather couch sat in the middle of the room facing the hearth. There was another door that led to what she guessed was the kitchen and a spiral staircase heading to the second floor in the opposite corner of the room. Other than a scarred up coffee table and a matching end table with another lantern lit upon the scratched surface, the room was empty.
Lonely, even.  Kind of like her.
She shrugged off that line of thought.   

“Then what the fuck are you and how did you find me?” Sam said hands fisted on his hips. “More importantly, what the fuck do you want?”

Edgy and full of a need she couldn’t explain, she amped up the flow of power that hummed just beneath the surface of her skin. “I told you who I was,” she said, voice saturated with a femme fatale’s special brand of honey-dipped persuasion. “I’m Agent Tatum Wilder.” Power surged, her heart raced, her breaths controlled and even. “I’m here for you, Sam. The Sun Counsel needs your help and in return, you will have your reputation restored and be able to come out of exile.”

As she spoke, she unbuttoned his flannel shirt, one button at a time, her tawny, golden gaze fixated on his hazel eyes. The intensity of persuasion rose with each word she spoke. Flannel parted, she slid the damp fabric from his broad shoulders. His biceps flexed as her fingertips lightly grazed the smooth, muscled flesh.

“I’m not here to hurt you, Sam,” she breathed, voice a husky whisper. “But there is no mistaking the fact you’ve been accused of mass murder,” she said.

He stiffened and grabbed her wrists in a forceful grip trapping her arms between her body and his chest. “Lies,” he hissed between clenched teeth. “All of it, lies!”

Inner strength, honor, vengeance, along with an outpouring of human need rose and swelled deep within his chest. His breath came out in short pants. Fresh lust coursed through her blood stream. Blood pounded and crashed against each vessel. She’d never wanted a human so much. Not in five hundred and seventy-one years of existence on this earth.

Stealing herself, she eased from his grasp and opened her palms outward while her arms remained at her sides. Energy zipped and zinged along her nerve endings as she drew her power around her. The strands of her hair whipped lightly about her face.

“Sam,” she said her voice now a seductive octave deeper with the volume of her power enhanced. “The Sun Counsel demands that you make an antidote to the 1090 virus.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her breasts into his chest. Tension held him taut. Eyes dilated with desire, anger emanated through his pores. Nipples tight buds and breasts heavy, the course leather of her pantsuit turned her on further as the material rubbed against her heightened flesh. Eager to taste him, she grasped the button of his jeans.

Sam caught her wrists roughly in one fluid motion. “Get. Out.” He enunciated each word with nasty emphasis and shoved her away.

She stumbled a bit in her weakened state and caught herself from falling to the polished wood floor flat on her ass just in time.

Damn it!

Tatum rubbed her sore wrists; she’d heal the bruises later, but that may take precious power she couldn’t afford to expend. She suddenly realized the foolishness of accepting this assignment with The Akthua so close.  

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Enjoy your Tuesday!
Kathleen