Sunday, August 24, 2014

CHAPTER SIXTEEN is Now Available To Read 

CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“Come on, darling, lean back. I need to numb this area before I can remove
this. Lean back against Nicky for me.” Damon was talking to her softly and
gently. Nick, however, couldn’t speak at all.
They’d wanted to carry her down to the offices once Damon had seen the
wound, but she screamed as soon as he lifted her again. Her eyes were glazed
with pain and he couldn’t make her scream again. The sound ripped through his
heart. The glass had gone straight though her shoe, as he had first seen and it
was still bleeding. She had told him when he’d gotten his heart out of his throat
that she’d dropped a glass last night and had thought she’d gotten it all cleaned
up. Then when she’d been rushing around today, she’d stepped onto it and it
was in her foot before she knew it.
“I do not want to lean back against Nicky, nor are you going to numb my
foot. If you do that, then I won’t be able to walk, and I have to be to work in an
hour. Just rip the fucking thing out so I can glue it shut and we can all be on our
merry way.” She was crying again. Nick wasn’t sure why, but he wanted to
punch someone for it.
“There isn’t any work you can’t put off until Monday, if then. I don’t want
you in the offices, now shut up and let him numb you.” Nick reached out to pull
her against his chest to steady her, and she slapped his hands away.
“I’m not working for you tonight, you jackass. I have to go to Mick’s and
work. And I am going; I need the money. Surely one of you three men can pull
that out, can’t you? Please just do it.” Damon looked at him with a frown. He
didn’t know who Mick was either and started to say something.
“You work at Big Mick’s? Cool, are you a stripper? ‘Cause I gotta tell you, if
you are then...” Nick only took a step toward Byron. Just one, and he shut up.
“You are not a stripper! I won’t have it. And why do you need the money?
Am I not paying you enough? I would think that the way you live, rent free,
you’d have more than...”
“Yeah, you would think that, wouldn’t you?” she screamed at him. “I can’t cash
those checks. I have to work to eat. Here.” She reached behind her and grabbed
the clipped bundle of envelopes from the front of the refrigerator and tossed
them at him. They all had Grant Corporation stamped in the upper left hand
corner. And all but one of them was still sealed. “I have to have a credit history
to open a checking account, but I can’t get a credit history because I don’t have a
flipping account. Without the history, I can’t cash those stupid checks, and so on.
I asked that dick head in accounting to give me cash and she laughed at me.
Stupid bitch
“I don’t understand. You need a credit check to open a checking account.
That’s ridiculous. I gave you a credit card. Why didn’t you just use that? Or
better yet, one of those check cashing places I see ads for on the television? That
would have given you cash at least.”
Nick was still looking at the six pay checks. Why hadn’t she said...but she
had, he remembered, weeks ago. He’d told her to go to accounting to get it taken
care of. He hadn’t even bothered to see if she’d gotten it resolved.
“Oh yeah, that. It’s in Mr. Grant’s freezer. I was informed by your lovely
bitch of an account that I need to have approval every time I spend over fifteen
dollars and she was not going to let me spend your money willy nilly. Yes,
willy nilly spender, that’s me. And have you seen how much they charge to cash
a check at one of those places? It would take me years to ever catch up. I knew a
girl on my row in prison who was into them for thousands of …Take. The.
Fucking. Glass out now!”
Nick looked at Byron with a raised brow and he backed up. “I don’t have it.
I’ve...she’s never been to my place.”
“No, that freezer. Just open it up; it’s right there. Might as well take it. I can’t
use it either.”
Nick looked back at Damon and saw that he’d pulled a syringe out and had
filled it while she was talking. He nodded at him and he suddenly knew that he
was going to knock her out. If they didn’t, she’d be walking to the bar glass or no
glass.
“Morgan, honey. You need to relax all right? Let me hold you while Damon
removes the glass.” She slapped at his hands again, but they weren’t as hard as
before. He didn’t know whether it was because she was resigned to the fact that
he was going to touch her, or she was getting weaker from blood loss.
“Stay away from me, I mean it. I told you before that I—ouch! What the hell
was that?” When she tried to pull her thigh away from Damon, he held tighter.
Nick knew she was going to have a bruise, but she’d left them no choice. Damon
didn’t look up at her as he finished the injection.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I can’t work with you moving around like that.
You’re going to go to sleep now and when you wake up, the glass will be gone
and I’ll have you all stitched up. You’re not going to be walking on that foot for
awhile, but we’ll take care of you.” Damon pulled out the syringe and began
rubbing the area while Nick held her hands away. He could feel when the drugs
started to kick in; she was fighting less and relaxing more.
“I hate you, both of you. And I quit. I won’t work...you tricked me...I want to
go back to prison. Please take me back...there has to be a way for me...I hate
you...” Nick pulled her close to his chest and just held her.
The next twenty minutes were tense while Damon worked to get the glass
out. It was right up against the bone and had to be worked loose before he could
remove it completely. Even as out as she was, she whimpered a few times. Nick
whispered nonsense in her ear and continued to hold her tight and tired not to
think about her telling him she hated him. He watched Damon put in every one
of the fifty-six stitches on the bottom of her foot, then the twenty-three on the
top; he felt every pull of the thread, every stick of the needle.
“Now what do we do with her? Because I got a feeling if we don’t do
something with her, she’ll be on her way to Mick’s as soon as she wakes up.”
Byron had a point.
“We take her with us. Mom wanted her there anyway. This way, we can
keep an eye on the swelling and she won’t be able to go to work. She’ll have a
happy Thanksgiving with us.”
Nick looked at his brother and thought he was insane. Not about taking her
with them, that was the only option they did have, but if he thought she was
going to be happy, or thankful, then he’d eat her ugly pink bag.
“There’s something else you two need to see,” Byron said as he returned to
the kitchen I, hummm...I went to her bedroom to get her something less...well
more and...come on.” He led them through the bedroom and into the bathroom.
Nick laid her down on the bed. She had to have clean clothes and she was
not wearing what she had on in public, although if she wanted to wear it to the
office for him sometime, he wouldn’t... Whoa! Stop right there, bucko!
Nick looked down at her clothes. The shirt was a black sleeveless half shirt
that had Mick’s written across her breasts in sparkly script. She had on a bra; he’d
seen it several times when she’d tried to slap him away. He was intrigued with
the little ladybugs that danced along the cups of it. Her belly was bare from the
bottom of the skimpy shirt to the top of her micro skirt. Her skirt was also black,
and very, very short. She had on thigh-high stockings that were a good inch
below the skirt itself and left the creamy inch of skin exposed. He found himself
wanting to lick the area and wanting to cover it up. Licking it was winning,
hands down. He reluctantly left her laying there and went into the bathroom. But
not before he pulled a sheet from the bottom of the bed and gently covered her
up.
“Ah, hell. She never left prison at all, did she?” he said as he entered the
room behind Damon.

Tune in next week for  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

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“I’m Misha. Say it please. 
I want to hear you say my name.
” Her breathless reply had him grinning.
 “Not Mr. Lanning. Misha.
 Say it, Hannah. 
Say my name so I can kiss you properly.”
 Less
“I’m Misha. Say it please. 
I want to hear you say my name.
” Her breathless reply had him grinning.
 “Not Mr. Lanning. Misha. Say it, Hannah.
 Say my name so I can kiss you properly.”

“I don’t know how. Know how to kiss at all.”
 He brushed his mouth over hers, happy with her confession. 
“You should stop now.”

He ran his tongue over her lips and watched as she ran her own over her lips, as if she were tasting him there. 
With a small groan, he took her lower lip into his mouth and suckled it until she put her hand on his arm.
 Her breathless “Don’t” made him want more.


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Kathi S Barton 






 




Saturday, August 16, 2014

CHAPTER FIFTEEN is Now Available To Read 

CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“Tomorrow is Thanksgiving; are you brining anyone to Mom and Dan’s?
Mom invited Morgan, but she isn’t coming. Mom is fairly disappointed about it.”
Byron had come into town to have dinner with Nick and to start trying to get
ideas for Christmas presents.
“No, I don’t normally think of Thanksgiving as a ‘bring a date’ kind of
holiday. Why, did you have someone in mind?”
Nick hadn’t been on a date in months. Not even to get laid. Damon had him
on this low fat, low cholesterol, no taste diet and it was killing his energy level.
Plus, he...fighting with Morgan was wearing him out too.
“Nah, just wondering. I was dating this woman from Charlie’s, but that
didn’t pan out. She wasn’t into the same relationship needs I was, so we called it
quits.” Nick stared at his brother. He didn’t think he’d ever heard the term
“relationship needs” uttered out of his mouth before.
“You mean she wanted long term and you wanted sex. Yes, I can see where
that would be an issue for you. Come on, we’re supposed to meet Damon at his
office at six and I’m starving.”
Both men got up to leave, but Nick hesitated for just a few minutes more. He
didn’t want to get into it with Morgan again. He just couldn’t seem stop picking
at her. He knew that’s what he was doing, but it didn’t stop him from doing it.
“She’s gone.”
Nick looked sharply at his brother. He felt his face heat up. Damn it, how’d
he figure it out?
“I...what are you talking...what do you mean she’s gone? It’s not even six yet.
She’s supposed to stay until...well, I don’t even know when she normally leaves,
but it’s never before me.” He was unreasonably pissed now. Damn it, he was
leaving. Why shouldn’t she be able to?
“She was leaving when I came in an hour ago. Said she had some things she
had to do before she had to go out again. Don’t know, didn’t ask, and didn’t care.
Why do you? I mean, it’s not like she doesn’t work like sixty hours a week
anyway. Back off, give her some air. You know, Nicky, if you hate the girl so
much, why don’t you just get rid of her?” Nick was glad that Byron was in front
of him, because the thought of getting rid of Morgan startled him for a few
seconds
“Because we have a contract, and besides, she does a good job. At least she
hasn’t fucked up that I know of. Good secretaries are very hard to find.” They
were going down in the elevator to the first floor as they talked. Besides, he
thought, his mom would probably shoot him if he did. For some reason, the two
of them got along great.
The doctor’s office was beginning to be decorated for Christmas as it was
closed from now until the Monday after Thanksgiving. The staff was also having
a little celebration as they worked. Nick wondered if he should have Morgan put
up a tree and then dismissed the idea. No one came to their offices and he didn’t
know what her plans were anyway.
“Hello, Nicky, long time no see. I’ve been thinking a lot about you lately.”
Marsha Bentley always made him feel like he was a slab of meat on a hook. She
looked at him like that too.
She was pretty enough, he supposed, with her bottle dark hair and full lips,
but she wasn’t...he didn’t want to think about what she wasn’t. But she wasn’t,
not at all. He’d been thinking about redheads a lot lately. Not that Morgan had
anything to do with it. He’d always liked red heads, with their creamy skin, and
her freckles across...their freckles, not hers. Freckles across the nose were a
natural on redheads, not just on Morgan. Damned woman, it was all her fault he
couldn’t get laid.
“I’m fine.” He realized he’d barked at her when she looked at him with
raised eyebrows. Byron was giving him the same look. He turned to find Damon.
People were reading too much into everything he’d done lately.
“Damon, you about ready to go?” He started to rub his chest again and
stopped short. He’d been told if he didn’t have any more flare ups, he could have
a regular dinner tomorrow. He was not ruining that now.
“Dr. Grant there’s a woman on the...oh, hello, Dr. Grant. Happy
Thanksgiving! Hummm... there’s a woman on the phone, says she has a piece of
glass in her foot and can’t get it out. Want me to transfer it in here?” Tansy Bell
was the oldest woman working for Damon, and the most dedicated too.
“A piece of glass? Tell her how to get it out and then to glue it shut if it’s
bigger than half an inch long,” Damon told Tansy without bothering to look up
from what he was doing.
Nick sat across from his brother’s desk when Tansy shut the office door.
Damon was still filling out charts and said he’d only be a few more minutes.
“Glue it shut? That’s a new one. Just use regular old Elmer’s?” Nicky leaned
up and took a cigar out of the box on his desk as he spoke. He didn’t light it up,
really didn’t like to smoke them, but the smell ... ahhhh, that was ambrosia to
him.
“No, super glue. It works pretty well on smaller cuts. It cleans the wound,
too, with the eucalyptus in it. They’ve been using it at the hospital for years. Get
your feet off my desk, you heathen.” They both turned to the door when Tansy
popped back in.
“I’m sorry, sir, but it’s Ms. Becky. She said that she doesn’t have any
tweezers and she doesn’t think that will work anyway. She has the glue, but she
just can’t get it out. Want me to go up and help her? She’s such a nice little
thing.” She already had her coat on and they could hear the others leaving as
well. Nick looked at Damon and sighed.
“I’ll go up and take care of her. You go on home, Tansy, and you”—he
pointed at Damon—“had better be ready when I get back.”
Nick took the stairs two at a time and was looking forward to blasting the
perfect Ms. Becky. How she could not get a sliver of glass out of her foot was
beyond him. He stopped suddenly, unless she was trying to make her move
toward Damon. Nah, Damon wasn’t her type. She’d be more...well, his type if he
was looking for a woman, which he wasn’t.
By the time he got to her door, he had worked himself up into quite a snit.
He had her moving in with Damon and having Devin’s love child and raising
Meggie, Spencer’s little girl, all at the same time. When he found the door partly
open, he threw it back against the wall with enough force to knock a picture off
the opposite wall. He knew the moment the sound reverberated in the room that
he shouldn’t have done it. Everything about her screamed for him to protect her,
but all he could seem to do was push her away.
“Morgan Becky, where the hell are you, and why is your door open for just
any one to walk in?” When she came through the door from the kitchen, he
nearly swallowed his tongue. Christ, where the hell did she think she was going
dressed like that?
“Where’s your brother, the doctor? The real doctor. I want him to come up
and fix this.” He stalked toward her and noticed that she’d been crying.
“He’s busy, and he’s not your type anyway. Let me see this piece of glass so
that he and I can get going.”
“No. I want you to leave. I...you won’t be nice, and I hurt too much to hold
my mouth closed. Please, you leave. I’ll...I don’t know what I’ll do, but I want
you to leave.” He noticed she was leaning against the doorjamb and her foot was
up behind her.
“Damon is busy. I’m going to take the glass out, glue it closed, and you’re
going to tell me where you think you’re going dressed like a street walker on a
Wednesday night.”
She turned around and hopped back into the kitchen, of course not
answering him. She did that a lot; he thought—didn’t answer when he asked her
something. Well, damn it, she wasn’t walking away now.
Nick walked into the room and nearly hit the floor. He looked down and
was startled by the amount of blood on it. He looked up at Morgan, who was
trying to climb up onto the sink, when he noticed that the blood was pouring
from her foot, her shoed foot. And sticking right out of the top and bottom was a
hunk of glass glossy with her blood. His heart went into overdrive seeing her
hurt. The need to cradle her in his arms and to keep her safe, paramount.
“Mother fuck! What did you do?” He picked her up at once and settled her
on the counter with her foot in the sink. He ignored her protests about being
touched and gently lifted her foot up to get a closer look.
The glass was approximately three inches long, about an inch wide, and
about four inches high. He looked at her and nearly crumbled with shame. She
had been crying, and she still was.
“It hurts. Can you take it out? I have the glue Ms. Tansy said to glue it with.
If you could get it out, I can do the rest so you can go to your mom’s.” Nick
hated himself more in that moment than he had ever hated himself before. He
pulled out his cell phone and called Damon.
“I need you up here right now! And bring your bag of tricks. She’s hurt badly
and I think she might have lost a great deal too much blood.”

Tune in next week for  CHAPTER  SIXTEEN

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“Do you know what you are to me?” She shook her head as he whispered to her. His mouth was doing incredible things to her and she wanted more. “Mate? You’re my mate. Do you know what that means?”

Her body seemed to come alive at his words. She struggled to pull from him and he let her go, but he didn’t back off. She moved back from him as far as the wall and tried to get her mind to function again. She was not going to be his mate, not any man’s.

“You have to go. I won’t bother you anymore if you do the same for me.” He moved to within a foot of her and she put up her hands. “I don’t want you here. Please, you can’t want me as a mate. I don’t…I’m not even sure that this isn’t some ploy to get what you want. Or money. Is that it?” She looked up at him as he started cursing.
Hunter Emerson and his brothers answered the request of a pack looking for a new Alpha and moved to Sommersville. Since they were all Alphas, Hunter didn’t have the clue that he was the new Alpha until he arrived. It didn’t sit well with him at all that a woman held herself in recluse and wouldn’t answer and pledge herself to the new Alpha. What she could be doing there on that big estate with no one around to witness… His mind reeled with the possibilities―none of them good.
Slone Morris had an understanding with the local pack―leave her alone and she’d let the pack stay on her land free of charge. It was as simple as that. She didn’t deal well with people. But the new Alpha in town wouldn’t take “Fuck off” for an answer.

Slone’s past threatened to rear its ugly head at every turn. There was one―someone she thought she trusted―who didn’t want the past dredged back up. He was determined to stop her―at all cost…
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“I’m Misha. Say it please. 
I want to hear you say my name.
” Her breathless reply had him grinning.
 “Not Mr. Lanning. Misha.
 Say it, Hannah. 
Say my name so I can kiss you properly.”
 Less
“I’m Misha. Say it please. 
I want to hear you say my name.
” Her breathless reply had him grinning.
 “Not Mr. Lanning. Misha. Say it, Hannah.
 Say my name so I can kiss you properly.”

“I don’t know how. Know how to kiss at all.”
 He brushed his mouth over hers, happy with her confession. 
“You should stop now.”

He ran his tongue over her lips and watched as she ran her own over her lips, as if she were tasting him there. 
With a small groan, he took her lower lip into his mouth and suckled it until she put her hand on his arm.
 Her breathless “Don’t” made him want more.


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Kathi S Barton