My Prize (25 page)

She nudged him with her elbow. "And then we'll find our own planet and start a new life, leaving all our memories of the intergalactic politics and the Scottish battles and wars far behind us. We'll be just Rory and Boralle, Mr. and Mrs. McAllen, colonists." She paused and turned her head, kissing his sweaty chest. "Madly in love colonists, I might add."

Rory considered her proposal.

"I like it, lass. You'd probably like Scotland, but it's very different from your time and your world. And I don't see me staying here on Anyela. It's nice, but a bit on the flowery side, if you know what I mean."

Boralle laughed. "I know."

"I think I'd like a challenge, wouldn't you? Building a new life on a new world? Making a brand new home for us? Raising a family?"

"Oh yeah, Rory. It would be wonderful, wouldn't it?" Boralle sighed with contentment.

Laird McAllen looked at the woman lying against his heart.
"Lass, with you, life
will
be wonderful. There's nay a doot in ma mind."

"Still awake?"

The man with the turquoise eyes turned on his pillow and smiled at the woman next to him. "Yep. You too?"

She sighed. "I know I
should
get some sleep. Lalla will be up early as always tomorrow, I'm sure."

The man grinned. He loved his little daughter more than life itself, but acknowledged that she was loud, demanding and tired them all out on a daily basis. And he wouldn't change a thing about her.

"What is it, sweetheart?" he asked, running a finger down her soft cheek. They'd made love earlier, and as always, he marveled at the woman who had given herself to him, body and soul.

"Honey, I've been thinking..."

He closed his eyes. He might be the Guardian, and the most senior of the men responsible for managing the progress of time throughout the galaxy, but he was also a husband. And like husbands on every single known planet, those words scared the crap out of him.

She stroked his bare shoulder lovingly. "Alana said something to me when she was here the other day..."

He groaned and buried his head in the pillow. Alana West Guardino had initiated one of the biggest upheavals in the way things worked on Anyela. And now she'd been talking to his
wife
.

His balls tightened in fear as he considered the possibilities.

"Are you hiding from me?"

The Guardian was a wise man. "Yes."

She laughed, and dropped a kiss on his skin. "Well don't. It's nothing bad or major or requiring that we rewrite the constitution. At least I don't
think
so..."

He turned and pulled her against him, dropping kisses on her face and letting her feel his cock as it awoke and found something rather pleasant next to it.

"And distracting me with sex won't work, either," she said, rubbing her mound against him. "Although...hold that thought for a few minutes..."

He dipped his head and found her breast, bringing a sigh of pleasure to her lips. "Alana said..." she began.

He suckled.

"Alana said she'd noticed something about our genie program..."

He suckled some more.

"She said she'd noticed a lack in the membership."

Damn, was there no distracting this woman? He gave her nipple a loving swipe and raised his head with a sigh. "What lack?"

"There aren't any women genies."

The Guardian blinked.

His wife watched him cautiously.

"I'll be damned." He sat up in their bed, brow wrinkled, as he pondered the wild thought. "There aren't, are there?"

His wife shook her head. "Nope. Any reason for that?"

The Guardian raised his eyebrows. "Not that I can think of. We just never...never considered it, I suppose..."

His mind raced, covering their mandate, their membership and their recruitment procedures, and he began to nod as he realized that once again, the busily interfering Alana West Guardino had been absolutely right.

"Well, shoot."

His wife grinned and lay back on the bed. She obviously considered her job done.

She ran her hand up his naked thigh.

"Now, about that distraction..."

*~*~*~*

And a short while later (interdimensionally speaking, of course), a woman took a wrong turn on a snowy road in a small New England town, and drove her car off a bridge into a very strange adventure, rich with intrigue, mystery and even a murder.
But that, as the Phrygians are wont to say, is
another story
...

(You can find it—and her—lurking in the pages of MY HERO, Book Three in the Time Guardians series, by Sahara Kelly.)

Just a suggestion… and it's probably sensible to add a reminder here as well that the entire Time Guardians series begins with MY WISH and two totally lovely genies. It's menage magic that's sure to enrapture those of you who haven't actually been enraptured much lately. Which is, probably, most of us. So go get it if you haven't already. Right after you read the rest of the awesomely fascinating stuff below, of course.

Sahara Kelly is always happy to explain to editors that her spelling errors aren't really errors, since she was born and raised in England, where an extra "u" is quite in order. She likes to think it adds
colour
to her writing. Sadly, it's not a widely held belief, but this particular story is a shameless attempt to worship at the feet of British writer Douglas Adams, so no apologies for alternate spellings are necessary.

Arriving in America with her almost-complete collection of Leslie Charteris' Saint novels and a passion for Monty Python as well as Mr. Adams, Sahara's new life eventually expanded to include a husband, offspring, citizenship, and a certain amount of acclimation to her new surroundings. (She still cherishes that extra "u" though.)

After more than two decades of writing, Sahara is now enjoying the greater freedom offered to authors by the rapidly expanding self-publishing scene and looking forward to many more such experiences. Being freed of restraints has opened doors—for Sahara and many other writers. There are now no impediments; no obstructions barring the path from writer to reader. Which is, in many ways, exactly as originally intended when that first storyteller sat on a rock outside her cave, tugged her bearskin around her shoulders and smiled at her kids across the open fire with the words "Once upon a time..." (or however it sounded several million years ago.)

To find out more about Sahara Kelly and her writing, please drop by her website and visit her at:

Sahara Kelly
(http://www.saharakelly.com)

This is where she shares none of the intimate details of her life, but will present you with a list of books she'd like you to buy so that she can go do research on a beach in Aruba and be pampered with massages accompanied by drinks with umbrellas in them. She'll send you a postcard. Thank you.

Since she has jumped into the world of private enterprise literature, Sahara has formed her own little publishing company. You're also welcome to come and check it out at the address below:

SK Private Label Publications
(http://www.skprivatelabel.com)

Please bookmark her website or visit her on her blog, or follow her/friend her on Twitter/Facebook if you're so inclined. You can stay on top of what's on the way from her fertile imagination by subscribing to her newsletter or picking up her app for your iPhone or iPad. Yes, there's even an app for Sahara Kelly. Best bet? Subscribe to the newsletter and keep up to date with everything going on by getting on Sahara's newsletter list
here
and don't forget to pop over and see what she's blogging about
here
. It usually has nothing to do with her books. Refreshing, huh?

Several of the above titles were co-written with friend and author S.L. Carpenter. Together, they have a dozen or so books available, each featuring their trademark touches of humor and heat. Their most recent release is a brand new stand-alone story titled
So Into You
.

Here's a peek…

The sliver of light from the hallway thinned to a whisper as the hotel door closed behind Casey. She turned and bumped into Phil, a warm and solid mass of flesh that took her impact without budging.

She lost her breath as her body hit the masculine wall but her choking gasp was smothered as his hot mouth enveloped hers. She matched his urgent heat, frantically seeking his embrace as he tugged her closer. Their tongues tangled together in a passionate kiss.

His hands caressed her through the thin fabric of her blouse until he impatiently pulled it loose, finding bare skin and moving to cup her full breasts. She moaned with pleasure, encouraging him, telling him without words that she was into every touch, every brush of his fingers.

He pressed against her, grinding his groin into her soft belly, simulating the sex he craved. With each passing second his cock hardened, knowing it would soon be buried deep within her.

He took a second to catch his breath in the darkness of the anonymous room. Only a faint beam of light from between the drapes illuminated her for his appreciative gaze. Tracing the back of his hand along her cheek and neck he felt her move into his touch.

He followed the soft path with gentle kisses and closed his eyes—a moment frozen in time. His hand shook slightly as sensations ran through him, electrifying his nerves. "You are so beautiful".

Lungs filling with the soft perfume she wore, he knew nothing in the world could make him walk away at that moment. Lust enveloped him, hot blood pumping through his veins.

Phil battled for his customary control. He hadn't made the mistake of losing it for a single night of unbridled desires in a long time, and he didn't want to start now if he could help it.

Casey grasped his hand and lowered it to her breast once more, whimpering at his touch. "Don't…
don't
stop. I need you."

He was rigid, painfully hard within the confines of his clothing. The emotions, and the need to feel wanted like this, were powerful aphrodisiacs. It helped that a woman this hot found him attractive, and when her hand grabbed his crotch he groaned and pressed himself into her palm.

"Fuck, I want you so bad." Her voice was low but ripped through his soul.

Her hand massaged his cock and his desire to take over grew more and more intense. He squeezed her ample breasts, feeling the buds erect and hard to his touch.

"Oh yes…yes, yes
yesss
…" The softly trailing moan signaled her pleasure in his attention.

She gripped his cock like a vice and he held his breath as he fought the urge to erupt right then and there within her massaging touch. He wanted to be deep inside her when this fury of sexual need was vanquished.

Reaching down he pried her hand away. "I need to breathe."

A soft chuckle crept from her lips as she slid down the wall, pulling her arm free from his grasp. She spread her legs apart; coming to rest low in front of him.

Phil looked down but the darkness turned her into a shadow. Even that couldn't stop a bolt of yearning, a burn so hot he knew their gazes had to be locked on each other. She tugged on buttons to unfasten his pants, and he put both hands against the wall above her head, sighing at the deep release of pressure when they loosened.

His underwear barely confined the hardness as it strained for freedom. Casey moved his shirt up across his taut abdomen and he felt his muscles involuntarily flex beneath her touch.

She peeled down his underwear, freeing his cock at last. Phil's moan echoed through his body and into her hands where they rested on his bare skin.

He could just make out the shape of Casey's head moving close to his rigid arousal. Her lips kissed the swollen head, sending shocks of pleasure up his spine.

"
Fuuuuck
….." This was a fantasy come to life.

Sahara would like to mention that she's recently initiated a new adventure with S.L. Carpenter. They have blended another of their shared passions —art— and formed an online graphics business focusing on the complicated world of writers. If you're interested in seeing what they get up to when they're not writing something twistedly hot and sexy, they'd like to invite you to come visit their business at the link below and check out some of the amazing cover art currently being created by S.L. Carpenter. They're certainly never bored…