Read Before the Moon Rises Online
Authors: Catherine Bybee
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Short Stories & Anthologies, #Anthologies, #Romance, #Paranormal, #Two Hours or More (65-100 Pages), #Anthologies & Literature Collections, #Genre Fiction, #Werewolves & Shifters
his throat. "I can't hold back much longer," he groaned in her
ear.
"Then don't," she told him.
Max reached over to his nightstand and quickly removed a
small silver packet, making quick work of the condom. He
moved to her side and nestled between her legs. Her hands
guided him to her. "You're huge."
"The more to pleasure you with," he said with a smile.
Keeping her eyes locked to his, he plunged into her with a
moan. Her tight body molded to his, her muscles squeezed
around him and her hips began to move. "Perfect. You are so
perfect," he exclaimed.
Their hearts beat in tandem, their breath merged. Like
him, her body heated and rose higher and higher. Fingers dug
into his back, raking his skin. She was close again, so close to
the edge he held back, praying she would come quickly.
He felt her body shudder; her legs circled his hips. He
caught her cries with his mouth until his body shattered in a
million pieces. He called out her name in his release.
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Before the Moon Rises
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Curled up beside Max, Janet allowed her system to come
down to earth. He had taken her higher than she could ever
remember going. She knew they had chemistry, knew the sex
would be astounding, but this was different. Together they
were nothing short of spectacular.
"Humm," she purred while his hand traveled up and down
her back. "Let me know if I'm alive or dead."
"Alive, most definitely, alive." He kissed the top of her
head, just as content to stay close to her as she was to him.
"I'm surprised there isn't a harem of women in the wings,
waiting for you to service them."
His chest rumbled with laughter.
"I'll bet you have a very full little black book."
"I never understood the little black book theory. If a man
can't remember seven numbers to dial than the woman isn't
worth their time."
"If there is more than one woman, it might get a little
confusing. What happens if you dial Stephanie using Sally's
number?"
"Well, you'd better hope Stephanie and Sally are
roommates."
Janet slapped his chest. "You're terrible."
"I don't know. The possibilities could be fun."
She laughed in spite of his words. She wiggled out from
under his arm and straddled his chest. "Well, I don't have any
roommates, and you better not call me by any other name
than Janet."
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His eyes soaked her in, his playful expression changed. His
hands moved to her waist and ran up her sides cupping her
breasts. "What about, lover?"
"That's okay." Janet held her breath while he pinched her
nipples. Her body responded and heat pooled between her
legs.
"What about, gorgeous?"
"That's fine too." She felt him growing hard beneath her.
"What about, beautiful?"
"Okay, beautiful is good."
He lifted her hips with little effort and placed her over his
shaft. "What about, mine?"
Slowly he lowered her until he'd buried himself deep inside
her once again.
"I like that!" Janet leaned over and started to move in
rhythm with him. "Mine," she called out.
His complete possession of her didn't go un-noticed. As
they rocked together, Max's eyes captured hers. His playful
banter slipped away and he replaced it with more depth and
promise. Max's gaze delivered a profound reaction from both
her body and her heart. As her body clenched and tingled
with building passion, so did her awareness. Their relationship
was moving incredibly fast but Janet wanted nothing to do
with slowing it down.
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Gorman crushed the paper with Philip O'Brien's address in
his hand before throwing it to the floor of his car. Waiting for
her to check on the misbegotten cat was proving more than
he could endure.
He knew she stayed with Ritter. Knew there was no way he
could claim her on his property. So, here he would wait.
Taking her out from under Ritter would be exactly what
Gorman needed to claim his position as head of the pack.
Ritter had plagued him and his like for years. Now,
Gorman had a chance of evening the score. Turning the
blonde in front of him would give him the leverage he needed
to take the title which was rightfully his.
His cell phone rang from the seat next to him, after
checking the caller ID, he answered. "Talk!" he ordered.
"They are leaving his place now."
"They?"
"Yeah, Ritter is with her."
Gorman let out a curse then mumbled, "Follow them. If
they come within a mile of here, call me. And don't let them
see you." He hung up and sat back.
All he had to do now was wait.
"What is this?" Max held a piece of paper in his hand and
waved it in front of Janet's face.
"A grocery list," she told him.
"Aren't you going to come in the store with me?"
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"No, I want you to drop me off at my dad's so I can take
care of things there."
"That shouldn't take very long." He glared at the list as if it
were a foreign concept. He had grumbled about the grocery
store stop ever since they left his house.
"You don't know my dad. When he calls and says he needs
me to look after his cat, it's really his code way of asking...
Can you come over and help me pick up around the house?"
"Oh, I see. How long could that take?"
"Long enough for you to pick up a few things at the store."
Janet saw his lip drop into a pout. Damn, it was such a cute
pout. "The store is right around the corner, and the list is
really small. The sooner we're finished, the sooner we can get
back to your place." Janet slid her hand over his upper thigh.
"You don't play fair."
Lightly tracing the outside of his groin with her fingers she
said, "I didn't hear you complaining."
Max lowered his sunglasses and put his car in gear. "Let's
get this done."
Max walked around her father's house, inspected every
room before he deemed it safe for her to enter.
"I'll be fine," Janet tried to convince him while pushing him
out the door.
He glanced around at the busy neighborhood. "I don't
know."
"You're trying to get out of going to the store."
"Well... I tell you what, I'll help you here, and you help me
at the store."
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Shaking her head, Janet gave up and put Max to work
cleaning out the litter box. If he wasn't going to cooperate
she would give him the dirty work.
She hated to admit it, but cleaning up her widowed
father's house did go faster with help.
Within a half an hour, they were pushing a cart around the
market. The store was an anomaly Max didn't understand.
The produce department had him picking up every vegetable
and looking at it as if it came from the moon. Having pity on
him, Janet gave him a job. "I'll pick out the vegetables. You
take a look at the meat department and find some steaks."
"Now we're talking." Happily, he scurried off to much safer
territory.
He rushed away, past a very attractive brunette, who
made a point of smiling his way and flipping her hair. A smile
brushed Janet's lips when Max ignored the other women's
flirtatious gestures.
Surrendering to the happiness that bubbled inside her, she
continued to shop with a spring in her step.
After fondling a few apples and bagging three pounds of
grapes, Janet worked her way to the back of the store where
the organic vegetables were kept.
An employee barged through the swinging doors, which
lead to the stock room almost knocking Janet over in his
haste. Frightened eyes stared her way with a rushed apology.
"I'm sorry, oh God. I'm sorry."
"It's okay," Janet told him, straightening her shirt.
"Oh, shit!" The kid turned back to the employee only area,
then back to her again. Janet noticed the shake in his hands.
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"Are you okay?"
"Yes, no. Listen, can you please run to the front of the
store and tell someone to call 911. There's a guy back here
who isn't breathing." The kid's eyes bugged out their sockets.
Janet dropped her handful of vegetables. "I'm a nurse.
Show me where he is." Her heart rate jumped as it always did
when she knew time was critical.
He walked her in a few feet and pointed to an open door.
"He's in there."
"You go call the paramedics," she ordered while she ran in
the direction he pointed.
The door was open, but no one was on the floor of the
room. There was another door, which she ran to and opened.
Empty.
Frantic, knowing time for the patient was ticking away.
Janet scanned the first room again. Boxes were stacked high
with very little room for a person to be behind. She searched
anyway but found no one. "Where is he?"
Walking back the way she came, Janet heard the creak of
a hinge. The weight of someone's stare burrowed into the
back of her head. Hair on her neck stood as the cold bristle of
tension wove along her spine. She stopped mid step and
swirled around. A cloth covered hand clamped over her mouth
and nose in a firm grip. The last thing she remembered before
blackness came was the distinct smell of ether.
The first thing Max thought when he rounded to corner and
saw their cart abandoned with Janet's purse in the basket
was;
she thinks I'm the one who doesn't know anything about
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grocery stores. Everyone knows not to leave your purse in the
cart.
The closer to the cart he moved however, the stronger the
smell became. He spun in a complete circle then called her
name. He tossed the packages of meat on the russet potatoes
and followed her scent. Each step brought his fear for her
safety closer.
Her scent mixed with Gorman's when he passed through
the swinging doors. He ran around yanking open doors and
calling her name, his search frantic.
Gone.
He ran his hand through his hair searching for clues.
There, on the floor outside a small room was a matchbook.
On it was an address and the words. "Before the moon rises."
He snatched the small paper and placed it under his nose.
Bile rose in his throat.
Jaw clenched, Max cursed Gorman's name.
He retrieved her purse, pushed through the crowded store
and hopped into his car.
Alone, he flipped open his cell phone and dialed. He
started with his parents, and then moved on to the rest.
The pounding behind her eyelids woke her. She murmured
a protest and tried to turn on her side, but the task proved
impossible.
Janet's eyes shot open when the memory of her abduction
hit her. She attempted to shift her weight but pain shot
through her arms which dangled above her. Panic-stricken
eyes traveled the length of her bound arms. Shock bolted her
upright when she realized she'd been shackled to the wall.
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Her body screamed in protest with her sudden change of
position from slouched on the stone and dirt floor.
Her eyes adjusted to the dim light that peeked through the
small window above her.
She was in a basement, of that she was certain. Her
clothes were intact, and her body felt more normal than not.
The fact she had no recollection of how she had gotten to
where she was scared the hell out of her, and had her
worrying about whether or not she'd been raped. Her memory
flashed to a past patient who had been violated during a drug
induced stupor. The lady woke with a distinct feeling of the
violation, but couldn't remember the act.
Trying her best to keep her wits about her, Janet closed
her eyes and forced her breathing to slow down.
"Freaking out isn't going to help," she told herself.
She wanted to panic. God knew she was on the edge. But
doing so would decrease her chances of survival.
How many times had she stood by a patient's side,
listening to the cop's applauding a victim's strong sense of
calm, which kept the person alive? Or the opposite when,
under whispered words around a grieving family, the police
told the ER staff of what could have been to make the
outcome more favorable.
Janet opened her eyes again, shaking loose the images of
dead patients from her mind.
Assess first.
The basement was large, probably under a house of at
least two thousand square feet. Pivoting, she noticed a set of
stairs, wooden and broken down. The pipes above her head
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