Snowbound: Night Shift Lacey Savage All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2008 Lacey Savage
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ISBN: 978-1-59596-906-4
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Editor: Maryam Salim
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Snowbound: Night Shift Lacey Savage Spending her Friday night running surveillance on a shadow stalker in the dead of winter isn’t Samantha’s idea of a good time. But doing it with a sexy partner… now that could be fun.
Snowbound: Night Shift “Truth or dare?” Samantha Amos nearly spilled her tea. Clenching her numb fingers around the cardboard cup, she turned to look at her partner. Darien Sterling stared out the driver’s side window at the sleazy strip club across the street, his striking profile as still as a statue’s. Not that he could see much through the blanket of snow that had settled on the windows. If Sam hadn’t been so absurdly attuned to his every move, she might have thought she’d imagined his deep, rumbling voice echoing through the interior of the car. Unfortunately, she’d heard him loud and clear. Those three words were the first he’d uttered in four hours. Since midnight, to be exact, when he’d asked what she wanted from Starbucks. She’d politely requested an extra hot Venti upside down caramel macchiato with whip. He’d brought her green tea. When she’d complained, he mumbled something about sugar seeping into her bloodstream. Since arguing would get her nowhere, she contented herself with sipping at the bitter liquid and glaring at him from time to time. Sam cleared her throat. “You’re kidding, right?” He lifted a broad shoulder, still not looking at her. “We might as well do something to pass the time.” She nearly groaned aloud. Oh, she had plenty of creative ideas in that department. Unfortunately, her X-rated fantasies were entirely one-sided. While she couldn’t even breathe without his scent sending a flurry of sensation to thrum deep in her pussy, he remained completely unaffected by her.
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Frankly, Sam couldn’t blame him. She wasn’t exactly a Playboy bunny. At best, she’d always been cute. Her hair was a little too blonde for anyone to take her seriously, her eyes too blue, her cheeks too flushed. And her small breasts and straight-as-a-stick body didn’t propel her into bombshell territory, either. So she was stuck somewhere in the middle, having to constantly prove herself both in her line of work and when it came to men. She’d given up on the latter. Men were a lost cause. The job… well, that remained to be seen. “Truth,” she said at last. He turned then, one dark eyebrow cocked in blatant challenge. “Chicken?” Yep. But she wasn’t about to admit it. “On second thought, screw your game. I need some air.” Defiantly, she yanked on the door handle. It didn’t budge. Swearing, Sam shoved against the window with her shoulder. Aside from a metallic groan that sounded like the damn Honda was laughing at her, she didn’t accomplish a thing. “Looks like you’re stuck here.” Darien grinned, flashing perfect teeth in the darkness. “With me.” Sam’s frustrated growl turned to mist in the cold air. His teeth weren’t that perfect, she thought. His canines were much too long, for one. And for two… fuck, there was nothing else. The man oozed sex appeal from every pore. Fighting to keep her raging libido under control before she embarrassed herself, Sam peered through the ice that clung to the window like a spider web. And no doubt in the door’s hinges, too. “Shouldn’t we be focusing on this shadow stalker character?” “Don’t worry. If he leaves the club, I’ll know it.” She frowned, wishing the briefing material she’d received had offered some information on her enigmatic partner. What little information the document offered had focused on the suspect, making it clear the creature they’d been sent to observe wasn’t dangerous. At best, he’d be considered a Peeping Tom, though most humans wouldn’t even be aware he existed.
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The shadow stalker was, however, the only lead the organization had to finding a succubus who had been terrorizing men’s dreams -- including the fantasies of a few stuffy corporate executives whose wives weren’t pleased. It was a rookie job, and she knew it. Which meant Darien had been sent to babysit. “Fuck,” she muttered as that bitter realization sank in. “Dare.” Darien’s easy smile finally reached his eyes. His gaze traveled over the length of her torso, pausing to linger on her breasts, which were all but hidden under her jacket. “Take off your sweater.” Sam’s nipples beaded. They rubbed against the soft wool, reminding her she hadn’t bothered to wear a bra that day. The friction sent a shiver down her spine that had nothing to do with the cold. “W-what would that prove?” His grin broadened. He opened his mouth, but Sam held up a hand. “I’m not chicken.” Besides, the idea of stripping for him in full view of anyone who cared to glance inside the parked Honda excited her in ways she hadn’t imagined. Before she could reconsider, Sam shrugged out of her sporty, down-filled jacket, crossed her wrists over her stomach, grabbed the hem of her sweater and pulled. The hard points of her nipples scraped against the fabric in their eagerness to taste freedom. The fur hat she’d forgotten she was wearing went flying into the back seat. “Oh, shit!” That had to be the least seductive stripping move on the planet. When she finally dared to open her eyes, the sweater hung by a sleeve from the back of her seat. Cold air brushed her breasts and bare stomach, but the hunger in Darien’s gaze jolted raw heat through her veins. Her gaze darted from his face to the tight black T-shirt that stretched over his firm, sculpted chest. The cold seeped into her bones, but she hadn’t seen him shiver once. Not even when he’d braved the blustering gale on his way to Starbucks. A frisson of excitement danced down Sam’s spine. Not all of her fellow agents were human. Was he?
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She pulled her jacket back on over her bare skin, but failed to zip it. Emboldened by her naughty behavior, she tweaked a nipple between thumb and forefinger. The sharp sting of pain caused her pussy to clench in anticipation. “Truth or dare?” she asked, pleased when her voice didn’t quiver. Darien didn’t hesitate. “Dare.” “Touch me.” Such a simple request, yet it took all Sam’s courage to utter it. She tensed, waiting for him to laugh and admit this had all been part of an initiation prank he pulled on all new agents. Hell, there was a camera in the dashboard. Back at headquarters, a group of werewolves probably howled with laughter at her expense. She forgot how to breathe when he reached out and skimmed his knuckles across the taut bud of her right nipple. She sucked in oxygen between her teeth, her breasts quivering at his touch. “More,” she pleaded, not caring it was his turn to challenge her. And no longer giving a damn someone could be watching. He cupped her breast. Excitement spread through Sam’s lower belly, dissipating the chill of the frigid winter night. All the self-restraint she’d cultivated shattered and broke. She reached out and tangled her fingers in his hair. In an instant, this game they’d been playing, the slow lure of seduction, had ceased to be enough. She wanted him panting, hot and hard and desperate to bury himself in her. She wanted him as deliriously aroused as she was. He met her halfway when she lunged at him, moving faster than she’d have thought possible. Their mouths met somewhere over the top of the stick shift. Darien’s hands skimmed down the length of her spine, his fingertips running up and down her back, awakening a flurry of tingling sensations deep within her core. The stubble along his jaw rasped against her chin. His lips were cold. Somewhere in the back of her mind, common sense screamed she didn’t know a thing about this man. She quieted the voice by reminding herself he’d been checked out
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by the same organization that hired her. Their security measures ran deeper than the CIA’s. Darien’s tongue swept along the seam of her lips. Sam opened to him eagerly. He delved within her mouth with slow, sensual strokes. She wound her fingers in his hair, pulling him closer, wishing they had more room. He cupped both breasts beneath her jacket, fondled them while they kissed. Then he simply held the small mounds with so much reverence she thought she might come just from the feel of his broad, masculine palms against her overheated flesh. His lips left her mouth and traveled across her cheek. “I’ve been watching you.” She tried feigning a casual indifference she didn’t feel. “Oh?” His fingers worked at the button of her jeans. With a flick, he had them undone. His hand slipped beneath the waistband of her panties. She gasped when he skimmed the top of her mound. If he delved any lower, he’d know just how much she wanted him. Cream had pooled in the cotton lining of her panties, sticking the fabric to her folds. He nibbled at her earlobe. “You have no idea how fucking hot you are, do you?” The rough edge in his voice startled her. She pulled back to look into his eyes, her own gaze narrowing. “You’re playing me, right?” His lips flattened. No hint of a smirk marred those gorgeous features. His hand slipped lower. The heel of his palm flattened against her clit and two of his fingers curled into her slit, making her tremble. Instead of rubbing her needy nub or thrusting his fingers in her cunt, he simply held her, asserting his dominance over the situation. And over her. “For the last six months, I watched you walk around headquarters, your hips swaying, that perfect ass begging for a spanking.” “A… spanking?” She could barely get the word out. He thought her hips swayed? And her ass… oh, God. He wanted to spank her? The world spun out of
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control. None of this made any sense. Men didn’t exactly fall all over themselves when she passed by. “I was downstairs every morning when you walked through those revolving doors. Even the smell of you…” He leaned into her, nuzzled her neck and inhaled deeply. “My cock has been so hard since you arrived.” Sam wriggled on the seat in a feeble effort to rub herself against his fingers. Oblivious to her desperation, Darien held himself maddeningly still. “Why didn’t you say something?” she ground out between gritted teeth. He nipped at the side of her throat. “I was selected to work with you before you were officially hired. I knew I’d have to deliver a full report once your training was over. I promised myself I wouldn’t let anything interfere with my job.” Her chuckle came out strained. “And this doesn’t cross the line of professional behavior?” His palm ground against her clit, moving just a fraction. Enough to send heat curling deep in her belly. She couldn’t feel the bite of the cold anymore. Snow covered all the windows from the outside. Fog draped them from the inside. They were truly sealed in here. In their own private cocoon of pleasure. “I thought I could handle working with you. But this car… you… so little space…” Having heard enough, Sam searched for his lips with her own. She found them, soft and pliant beneath her questing mouth. Their tongues met, stroked, lingered. His fingers began to move inside her slit, parting her folds, pressing just at the entrance to her soaked channel. Not to be outdone, Samantha fumbled with the buckle of his jeans. It took her longer than it had taken him, but soon the rewarding sound of the zipper sliding down echoed through the car. He wore briefs. Tight ones. Darien lifted himself to allow her to slide his jeans and briefs down around his thighs. His cock felt long and thick in her hand. She stroked it, her fist closing over the shaft and sliding up and down the impressive length.
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Strangely, despite her best efforts, the delicate skin remained cold. She pulled back a fraction and licked her lips. “Let me warm you up.” He shook his head, but she wasn’t about to take no for an answer. Before he could put his refusal into words, she splayed her palms on his thighs. In the blue light bouncing off the snow, she could make out his plump cock and the veins snaking along the underside of the thick shaft. The engorged head had reddened. A glistening drop of moisture beaded at the tip. Her tongue made contact with that tempting spot first, tasting him. The musky flavor of his precum drenched her senses, making her mouth water. She wanted more. Much more. Her fingertips inched along the inside of his thigh until she could cup his balls in the palm of her hand. Although the new angle made it more difficult for him to reach her cunt, he continued to slide his fingers along her moist slit. When she took the length of his rod in her mouth, he thrust two fingers into her channel, filling her. Sam cried out around a mouthful of cock. He lifted his hips, thrusting between her lips, giving her as much of his delicious shaft as she could handle. Darien grunted, the sound urging her on. His cock filled her mouth, big and thick and meaty against her tongue. Eager to please him, she swirled her tongue around the crown, paying particular attention to the delicate skin beneath the head. Just when she didn’t think she could handle much more of his fingers stroking the inner walls of her pussy, he thrust a third finger alongside the other two. Her cunt felt stretched, widened, pushed to its limit. And still, she knew it was nothing compared to his cock. She squeezed his balls gently, rolled them in her palm, then cupped the base of his shaft. Tightening her grip, she ran her hand along his cock, up and down, faster and faster, matching the rhythm of her mouth. The firm muscle of his abs tightened, tensed and released as he fought for control. She toyed with his slit, running her tongue over it again and again. Shaking her
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head slightly as she sucked him deeper, she let her hair fall around his groin, knowing the light tickles of her tresses had to add to the myriad of sensations warring for attention around -- and within -- his groin. “Let me fuck you, Sam.” His voice was rough. As hot as his cock was cold. Perfect. She might have forced him to withstand more of the glorious agony only to feel him spill his seed inside her mouth if she didn’t need his cock in her so damn badly herself. Lifting her head, she met his gaze boldly. “Dare me.” The corners of his mouth tilted upward. Then the smile turned into a full-fledged grin and his fangs elongated, slipping down past his lower lip. “Not this time, Sam. This time I’m asking. Let me have you. All of you.” She didn’t hesitate. Not even when realization dawned and she understood exactly what he was. The side of her throat where he’d nipped at her tingled in anticipation. She shucked her jeans down her legs with a speed she hadn’t known herself capable of. Fully naked from the waist down, she crawled over the stick shift, straddled him, and lowered herself on his shaft. She’d been right about him. His cock was bigger than all three fingers, parting her heated, soaked folds and plunging into her slick channel. Her cunt stretched to accommodate him. He dipped his fingers into the wetness of her sex lips, adding another level of intensity to the bliss streaming through her veins. Nudging her clit with his fingertips, he stroked and caressed, focusing solely on her pleasure. She rode him by grabbing on to his shoulders and letting her hips move in that sensual way he said he loved so much. Her pussy glided easily over his shaft. His free hand cupped her ass, squeezed and then released her, only to land with an audible smack.
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That one, perfect slap was all it took for her to shatter in a million pieces around him. Her inner walls squeezed hard and she slammed down on his groin, holding his cock deep in her body as she shuddered and climaxed. He came with her, his nails biting into the flesh of her ass as he gripped the globes hard and held her steady. His tongue slipped against the skin of her throat a moment before his seed spilled into her and his fangs sank deep, deep, deep within her throat. Waves of shuddering pleasure streamed through Sam’s body. Her cunt clenched down hard as her muscles spasmed and quivered. Her neck burned, but it was a good burn, one that reached deep within her soul and seemed to stroke her heart from the inside. The feeling was like nothing she’d ever experienced. The flame of an icy fire swept through her, adding to the potency of her orgasm. When he released her, the tenseness in her muscles gave way, turning her limbs to a quivering mass. She collapsed against him, her head rolling against his shoulder. Blood trickled down her neck in a tiny rivulet, warm and oddly comforting. Darien brushed the hair away from her face. “Sam?” “Uh huh.” “Baby, you gotta move. He’s getting away.” It took her a few moments to figure out he was talking about the shadow stalker. Their mission had failed. “Let him go,” she whispered, wrapping herself tighter against him, pressing her cheek to his heart. It wasn’t beating. That would take some getting used to. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and wrapped his arms around her beneath the jacket she still wore. “Fuck it. There’s always tomorrow night.”
Lacey Savage Award-winning author Lacey Savage loves to write about her dreams -- or more specifically, she loves to breathe life into her steamy fantasies (and she’s got plenty!). She pens erotic tales of true love and mythical destiny, peopled with strong alpha heroes and feisty heroines. A hopeless romantic, Lacey loves writing about the intimate, sensual side of relationships. She currently resides in Ottawa, Canada, with her loving husband and their mischievous cat. You can learn more about Lacey by visiting her website
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