Exquisite Danger (2 page)

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Authors: Ann Mayburn

BOOK: Exquisite Danger
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“Hey, beautiful baby,” Smoke said with a rough purr in his voice. “You tryin’ to get your daddy to shoot me?”

I laughed, very aware of my father glaring at Smoke from where he sat at a picnic table near the fire pit. A hint of unease moved through me. My dad could very well be considering how to end the life of my boyfriend, or as Smoke liked me to call him, my man. Even my dad’s disapproval couldn’t quell the need coiling inside of me, and I slipped my hand into Smoke’s and gave a soft squeeze. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched as Mimi sat down on my dad’s lap then threaded her fingers through his thick hair. He glared at her for a second before his lips curved into a reluctant smile, and his eyes filled with warmth. They were soulmates. I was happy for them and glad I’d been blessed with parents who showed me what true love meant.

“No, I don’t want my dad to shoot you. He might hit something important. Something I really like.” I bumped my hips to his, the press of his big erection against my body sending a shiver of electric desire down my spine and straight to my clit. Fuck. Knowledge was a dangerous thing. I have this problem with people touching me, a sensory issue combined with a fear of strangers. Before Smoke, I’d never met a man who could touch me like he could. My body belonged to him from the very start, and he took very, very good care of it.

My sex tingled with arousal, and I rubbed against him again seeking the relief only he could give me, and the escape from my worries and fear that I could find only in his arms.

His deep chuckle vibrated against my breasts. “What naughty things are you thinking about? Is it about my tongue in your pussy, or my cock?”

I frowned up at him, trying to ignore the way my lady bits were now throbbing. Damn he had an erotic voice, all deep and growly. Male, primal, hot. “How do you know I’m thinking about sex?”

“Because you do these long, slow bites on your lower lip when you’re getting turned on. Plus, your eyes get all hot and heavy, but brighter, a pure blue like a winter sky in the desert. Your beauty drives me insane. All I want to do is look at you, touch you, love you, because just being around you brings me joy. I could fuck you for days at a time, satisfy you until you don’t know your own name, but now is not the time or place, so stop being so fuckin’ sexy. You’re killin’ me.”

My clit throbbed with each beat of my heart and I wished we could sneak off, but that would be impossible right now. I sighed and wrapped my arms around his waist, resting my cheek against his chest, peace filling me. “It’ll be nice to go home when this is over. Where it can just be you and me together.”

He made a happy sound and pulled me tight against him, his arms solid as tree trunks wrapping around me and holding me close. “I can’t wait to get you home either.”

“Um...Swan?” A woman’s husky, low-pitched, familiar voice came from somewhere behind me.

Smoke tensed, but I squirmed my way out of his arms, already running before I’d even laid eyes on my best friend, Lyric, who stood not too far away. A hot blush covered her face as she looked down at her hands where they gripped her long, dowdy blue skirt so hard her knuckles were white. Memories of seeing her standing with that hesitant, scared posture flashed through me making my heart ache. My friend only looked like this after she’d been hurt, and considering her tender heart and trusting nature, that happened often. Lyric gave me a startled look when I came barreling at her, but it soon dissolved into laughter when we hugged and jumped up and down, talking over each other at the same time like a couple of pre-teen girls hyped up on Pixy Stixs.

I finally calmed down, took a deep breath and hugged her tight. She never wore any perfume, but she smelled like fresh air and the outdoors. Lyric had loved to play with makeup and perfume when she was at my house, but it was strictly forbidden at her religious compound. Something about vanity and temptation trying to make sinners out of men. Idiots.

She was about five-two with a curvy body and breasts bigger than mine. Her thick, waist-length, light brown hair was pulled back into the stupid braid her religious elders insisted all women wear. The fit of her dress made her body look lumpy, which was a shame, because beneath that sack-like piece of crap, she had a lovely hourglass shape. When we were young teenagers, she would come over and we’d play dress-up with Mimi’s makeup and party dresses. I’d spend hours playing with Lyric’s hair, brushing it until it shone in thick waves while we talked about our dreams of the future. Mimi had taught us both how to look beautiful, yet classy, and I know Lyric loved feeling pretty. But every time Lyric left to go home, she had to remove the makeup, wash off the perfume, and put on her shapeless clothing or risk punishment for dressing like a ‘whore’ and enticing god-fearing men.

The only reason Lyric’s parents let her come over in the first place was because they did business with my dad. Hell, everyone in the compound dealt with my dad in one way or another. If you needed something, he could get it, and if he couldn’t, he knew someone who could.

Beyond that, my dad owned the water rights for the entire collection of compounds, something more valuable than gold and not a luxury anyone wanted to lose. That meant if Lyric’s compound wanted water, she got to come over for a pajama party. Thank God her parents allowed her to visit, because I don’t know what I would have done without Lyric’s caring presence in my life. She was one of the few people who’d been able to touch me without causing me pain, and in many ways, I thought of her as my sister.

With a faint tremble in her voice Lyric whispered, “I missed you.”

Tears burned my eyes as guilt pierced me, and I hugged her hard enough that she wheezed. “I missed you too.”

Smoke’s voice, warm and rough, came from behind me. “You must be Lyric. Swan speaks very highly of you.”

Lyric immediately clammed up, her lips pressing together as she turned her eyes to the ground and clasped her hands behind her back. It was ingrained in her, practically since birth, to be subservient to men so that she had a problem dealing with any male over the age of sixteen. I gently lifted her chin until her enormous, hazel eyes met mine. Lyric had the most beautiful eyes I’d ever seen, complex and doe-like in their innocence. From a distance, her eyes looked brown, but when you got close, they were actually a beautiful, light golden-brown with a starburst of hazel-green, and flecked with orange that surrounded the iris.

It was the trust in her eyes that made me decide to be as direct with her as I could. We didn’t lie to each other, ever, and I wasn’t going to start now. “Lyric, this is my man, Smoke. I know he looks scary as shit, but he’s a part of my life now, and I love him. I would really like it if you could be friends. I know he’s huge, but I swear he’d rather cut off his own hand than harm you.

She trembled hard, but when I gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze, she darted her gaze up at Smoke and whispered a rapid spill of words. “It’s very nice to meet you, Mr. Smoke.”

“You can just call me Smoke, sweetheart.” His voice was equally soothing as he said, “It’s nice to meet someone that Swan cares about so much.”

Lyric gave him a shy smile before returning her gaze to the ground. “I care about her, too. She’s like my sister.”

“Then that means we’re family now, and I always take care of my family.” He dazzled us both with his best smile, and Lyric sucked in a quick breath.

“Um...okay.” She gave me a rather desperate, dazed look. I could sympathize with her feeling like that. “He’s your boyfriend?”

“Yeah.”

She gave a slightly shaky laugh and whispered, “Wow.”

“It’s so good to see you,” I kissed her on the cheek then gave her another hug. A fragile innocence and sweetness seemed to radiate from Lyric, and as usual, the urge to take care of her rose in me. “Come on, let’s get some food in you.”

She paled, her sprinkling of freckles standing out on the bridge of her nose and upper cheeks. “Can we stay here? I had to agree to bring a chaperone with me to the party, and I ditched him.”

I had to grit my teeth and take a deep breath as my protective instincts roared to life. “Why do you look scared when you say that?”

Clasping her hands together hard enough to make her skin blotch, she shook her head. “They have rules now, like any woman must be accompanied by a man of high standing in the church if she wishes to leave the homestead. Especially an unmarried woman.”

“What?” I saw Smoke tense out of the corner of my eye and tried to think up a way to diffuse the situation, but I was having a hard enough time keeping my shit under control. “They wouldn’t let you leave by yourself if you wanted to?”

“No,” Lyric said in a flat voice and tensed. “Things are different with our new leader.”

I blinked at her in surprise. “You’re dad’s not leading your church anymore?”

Lyric’s lower lip trembled. “He died four months ago.”

Right away, I felt like the worst friend ever, and my voice was thick with tears as I said, “Honey, I had no idea. Why didn’t you have Dad and Mimi tell me? I would have come home in an instant.”

“I asked them to keep it from you because I didn’t want you to meet the new leader.” Lyric turned her head and tried to wipe away her tears. “I don’t want you around him. He’s not a nice man. Your fresh mouth would get me in trouble. New rule: If we have a guest and they commit a transgression, then the person who invited them has to pay for it by doing penance. It’s cut down on the number of outsiders coming to the Church, big time, and isolated the members from their extended families. A few of the more moderate families have already left, but the hardcore believers are gaining power…and new members. The pastor we have right now preaches fear and hate—that God is a vengeful deity bent upon bringing suffering to those who sin against Him. I’ve tried to debate it with the pastor, to help him see that God is love, not hate, but he seems like he doesn’t even care what the Bible says. He’s teaching the people lies, and they seem to be oblivious to just how manipulative he is.”

I ran a soothing hand down her braid, trying to calm her before she became too upset to talk. “Who is he?”

“Pastor James Jebidiah Middleton,” she replied with a note of disgust in her voice.

“How did he become the pastor?”

She sighed. “It’s a long story.”

“What about your Mom? What’s she doing? Is she finally staying home or is she still on her mission kick?” Lyric’s mother and father were home maybe two months out of the year, spending the rest doing missionary work around the world. I never understood how they could leave their daughter behind, but they often looked at Lyric more like an inconvenience than their child. If it wasn’t for the fact that Lyric’s strict but loving grandparents mostly raised her, I think Mimi and my dad would have had Lyric living with us a long time ago.

A light breeze blew a strand of Lyric’s hair across her face. “My mother is dating Pastor Middleton.”

I gaped at her. “What?”

“Yeah. He started courting her soon after he arrived, claiming God had sent him a vision about my mom. She spends a lot time now at the pastor’s mansion. They’re getting married really soon.”

“What? He’s marrying Evelyn? God sent him a
vision
about Evelyn, and they’re getting married? That’s so messed up on so many levels.” I shuddered. “I thought your Mom despised sex. The thought of…urk.”

“Yeah.” Lyric’s lips twisted in disgust. “Pastor Middleton is slick. He’s handsome for an older guy, charismatic, and can be very, very charming, but he can also be scary. Things are different now, Swan. I’m trying to get my grandmother to leave with me, but her dementia is pretty bad. Some days she doesn’t even recognize me. I don’t know if moving her from her home would hurt her.”

“Bring your grandma with you to my dad’s house. You know we’ll help you any way we can.”

“I don’t want to be a burden on your parents.” I started to protest, but Lyric held up her hand and I noticed the calluses on her palms that hadn’t been there before. “Besides, Pastor Middleton has spies all over the place, and there is no way I could get my grandma out with them watching me. She’s totally bedridden now and needs constant care. I couldn’t take her with me and subject her to the stress of trying to run away. I know it would kill her. I also know if I call the police, the whole thing would become a media circus, and we’d never have a chance at a normal life. That’s all I want, the old fashioned American dream. A loving husband, kids, and a home that I could make my own, a place that would be a haven from the world where I could safely love my family with all my heart.”

“What the fuck kind of hellhole do you live in?” Smoke’s voice was thick and loaded with tension.

He was obviously angry and trying to contain it. I could understand that because I was in a similar situation, but I knew better than to get angry around Lyric. The fire in Smoke’s eyes grew fiercer, and I sucked in a quick breath. He looked like a man getting ready to do something drastic. Worried about Smoke getting wrapped up in a fight with the cult—okay, fine, I said it,
cult
—I reached out and grasped his hand. The instant our fingertips met, he visibly calmed himself.

“I know you think I’m stupid for staying, but my home wasn’t always like this.” Lyric darted a glance at Smoke that held a bit of anger mixed with shame. “When I was little and my grandparents headed the church, it was a good place, a happy place. My parents were missionaries, and they’d leave me with my grandparents for most of the year. I loved staying with them rather than with my own distant mother and father. Everyone helped each other out, and the sermons were about God’s love and compassion. We were taught to forgive each other and care for each other like family. It was a wonderful place to grow up, if a bit strict. My grandmother is everything to me. She’s the one who taught me about love and the grace of God. I can’t abandon her.”

She closed her eyes, and without a second thought, I pulled her into a hug, holding her tight as the tension and anguish poured out of her. Lyric very rarely talked about the negative parts of her life, and I wanted to do everything I could to give her the courage to speak up. Thanks to Smoke’s unconditional love, I knew how healing and cathartic it could be to share the burdens from the past.

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