A Million Kisses or More Page 3

  Storming back to his office, he threw himself into the chair and turned on his computer. He doubted he’d get a lot of writing in since his head had been embarrassingly silent since he wrapped up book number four a few weeks before. The last book had been the hardest to write and he knew that there wasn’t a lot of Justice left in him. Needing to write, however, he struggled to figure out another story even though there had been nothing. He was starting to think he might never write again.

  With Ana occupying too many of his thoughts, he tried to think of a new character to write about, someone not as tormented as Justice. Grabbing a copy of Justice Unleashed from the shelf behind him, he started paging through it to find the passage Ana was talking about. He found it on page 315, the name Mercy jumping out at him.

  “Who are you?” Justice asked, holding the point of his sword at the base of her throat.

  Unafraid, she held his eyes as she murmured, “I’m Mercy.”

  The girl handed him the jeweled pendant, staring at him with eyes that weren’t human. She looked at him as if she knew him but he had no recollection of her, which was a pity because she was exquisite. Her strawberry blond hair hung nearly to her slender waist and he could imagine twining his fingers into the silky strands as he sunk his cock into her tight cunt. Her inhuman eyes were a strange shade of green, the irises too large, the pupils slits instead of circles. Power radiated off her and he had the feeling that she was only showing him a fraction of the magic that coursed through her delectable body.

  “Why are you doing this for me?” he asked, unable to tear his eyes away from the beautiful creature.

  “I have my reasons,” she said, her voice low and melodious. It wrapped around him and for a moment he felt as if he knew her, as if in another life, she had been his.

  Ana was right; it was nearly a dead on description of her. God, if he could age her a few years, she’d be perfect. For Justice. She’d be perfect for Justice. After all, Justice needed a new love interest, considering the last one stabbed him and left him for dead. Or maybe he didn’t need a new love interest but one that had been lost to him, one that he had forgotten.

  He sat up as his brain whirled into overdrive with the first scene of the next Justice Kane Chronicles.

  Mercy laid a delicate hand over his chest where his heart used to be. The strangest, long forgotten feeling of blood pumping through his veins made his skin tighten and tingle in painful ecstasy. It had been so long since he had felt warm that his blood almost felt like it was burning him up from the inside out. His head whipped around and he looked at the woman who kneeled beside him. “What have you done?”

  “I brought you back,” she murmured, the lyrical tone of her voice washing over him.

  He had been ready to die and now he was back. “Why?”

  She caught her plump lower lip between her teeth for a moment before she said, “You’ll understand better in time but for now I have a favor to ask of you.”

  He arched an eyebrow at that, the dark humor swirling in his black soul. “You dragged me from the pits of Hell to ask a favor?”

  She snorted, a sound that was surprisingly delicate. “Oh, Justice, you weren’t in Hell. But, yes, I did bring you back.”

  “Again, I ask why?”

  Her tongue smoothed over the flesh she had been abusing only a moment before and he felt his cock rise to the occasion. The blistering heat shocked him, making him jump. A groan of agony was torn from his lips as every muscle in his body protested the sudden movement. But then her hands were there, moving over him, soothing the anguish away with her gentle touch.

  Not quite meeting his eyes, she said, “I need a champion, a… protector. Someone strong and… honorable.”

  He snorted before he could stop himself but her words were absurd. “I’m nobody’s champion, love.”

  Her lips twisted in frustration but he didn’t care. If he weren’t so damn stiff, he would have stalked off to his cave. Fuck, he couldn’t even die right, not if some chick was able to resurrect him. He was a godforsaken necromancer; he had taken precautions to prevent this very thing and yet, somehow, she brought him back. Who the hell was this girl?

  “Who are you?” he asked, his newly beating heart starting to pound in his chest. It hurt to have the organ beating again, the constant thump-thump an annoying cadence “What are you?”

  “I’m the last of my kind,” she said softly, glancing around the room to see if anyone was listening. Justice raised his head enough to see that the room was empty except for the pair of them. “My blood can feed a pack of vampires for years. It can give them unmatched power, strength, immunity to the sunlight, to death. My blood brought you back to life and I’ll share it with you if you promise to keep me safe.”

  “Lady, I could kill you right here and now,” he ground out, pissed that she had stolen his final death from him. “Then the vampires wouldn’t have your blood to become an even greater threat than they already are.”

  She smiled at him, a smile that shot straight through his chest and into his soul, momentarily banishing the darkness with the brilliance of a simple curve of her lips. Sucking in a breath, he knew the moment she realized she had him.

  “As you wish, Justice,” she grinned, tilting her head back and exposing her slender throat to him. The foolish girl probably thought he was no longer a threat since he had blood coursing through his veins. Unfortunately for her, he still had his teeth. Ignoring the pain, he sat up and grabbed onto her shoulders, nearly crushing her beneath the strength of his grip. In the next moment, his teeth were in her throat and the sweetest, most delectable blood burst into his mouth.

  A soft moan of arousal came from her lips as she sunk her fingers into his hair, as she held his head against her neck. Life filled him, making his heart beat even faster, harder. His strength increased ten-fold, a hundred-fold, as she gave freely of herself. Her low, throaty rasp moved over his skin, “I knew you’d understand.”

  He was very much afraid he did. Whatever she was, she had bound him to her and there was no escape.

  More and more ideas started welling up and detonating inside of his brain and it was all he could do to get everything written down. He hadn’t felt this inspired since the last time he sat down and sketched out the first Justice Kane story. He even had a title for the new book: The Resurrection of Justice.

  Chapter 2

  As soon as she had gotten back to her room at her aunt’s house, Ana had gotten comfortable and started to read. She hadn’t even bothered to change, enjoying the scent of Harrison as she read his words. She had ignored the phone, the cat, even her rumbly stomach as she fell further and further into the world of Justice Kane. Before, she had pictured Justice with light brown hair and ice cold blue eyes but now that she met the author, she couldn’t help but picture him with Harrison’s black hair and chocolate eyes. Justice was all hard planes and ripped muscles but she discovered she preferred Harrison’s slightly less cut body. It was still pretty damn impressive but instead of walking around with an eight pack, Harrison’s was more of a four pack, hard but not threatening or off-putting. A girl could snuggle with Harrison, drag her fingers through his slight body hair, and just get lost in his eyes. She’d be safe with him. With Justice, a girl would probably die a horribly painful death, either at Justice’s hands or one of his many enemies and she’d never be safe.

  She held her breath as Justice neared the end of his fight with the powerful sorceress Raissa, the woman he had been having an on again, off again love affair with since the first book. His eyes were swollen, he was bleeding from the lip, several of his bones were broken, but he continued to fight because he knew if he lost, the world would be devoured by the power hungry bitch. He had one final trick up his sleeve and he just needed a few more moments to make the powerful blood spell work.

  He smiled at her as blood dripped into his mouth, making him look as gruesome as he felt. “It’s been fun, Raise, but it’s over. You should know when you’ve lost.”
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  “Look at you, Justice,” she sneered, her porcelain skin unmarked by any of his strikes. “You’re the one that is bleeding all over the floor. All I have to do is wait for a strong wind to blow you over and I’ll have won.”

  “No,” he grinned, trying to suck air into lungs that were too bruised to expand any more. “I’ve bound our souls, love.”

  “Pshaw,” she huffed, dismissing his words as easily as she tore his flesh from his bones. Squatting down so she was gazing directly into his eyes, she ran her tongue along his cheek until her lips were next to his ear. “It’s over, Justice.”

  He closed his eyes as the blade pierced his chest, his heart. With the last of his strength, he wrapped his fingers around Raissa’s arms and held her close as he rasped, “Yes it is. Now we’re both going to burn in Hell.”

  “No!” Raissa screamed, her flesh tearing itself from her body until she resembled Justice. Her eyes widened in horror as the phantom blade pierced her chest and blood dripped from her red lips.

  In the end, he sacrificed himself to save the world and he could only hope it would be enough. Closing his eyes, he died.

  Finally.

  Ana’s mouth fell open as she read the last words. That couldn’t be the end; he couldn’t just kill Justice like that. Without thinking, still in a daze, she slid off the bed and stumbled over to the window. Pushing it open, she screamed out, “You can’t do that to me, Harrison Miller! I hate you!”

  Opening his window, he stuck his head out and yelled back, “What the hell?”

  Holding the book out, she shook it at him, “Did you seriously just kill Justice Kane?”

  He gaped at her as if she was crazy and perhaps she was because he was standing there without a shirt on and she was still furious with him. “He’s already dead, Ana. He’s a fucking necromancer.”

  “But Raissa just stabbed him through the heart!” she yelled back.

  “It’s four in the morning,” he ground out. “Have you been reading this entire time? Jesus, are you still wearing my clothes?”

  Heat scalded her cheeks as she realized how ridiculous she was being. “So what if I am? You shouldn’t have killed him.”

  “I’m working on the next book,” he said in a low, furious voice that carried across the street. “But if you don’t stop screaming at me, I’ll stop writing right this very moment and he truly will be dead. And all seven of my fans can blame you.”

  “You wouldn’t dare,” she hissed.

  “I would,” he vowed.

  “Oh!” she screamed, pulling her hand back and hurling the book at him. Of course, he was not close enough to actually hit and the book landed in the middle of the street between their houses. Realizing what she had just done, she slammed the window down and then ran down the stairs and out the front door just as Harrison opened his front door. They both paused, eyed one another, and then took off towards the book at the same time. Ana had the advantage because it was closer to her side of the road but Harrison was fast and he was wearing shockingly few clothes.

  She managed to grab it as his arms went around her waist and they fell to the cold ground. In the next moment, he was looming over her, his naked chest rising and falling with each panted breath he took. Strangely, she discovered she couldn’t catch her breath at all. “That was not very wise, Miss Ana.”

  “I didn’t mean it,” she managed to say, her voice ridiculously breathy. With all of the heat that was coming off of him in waves, she was barely aware of the cold ground beneath her. Her tongue darted out and smoothed over her lips and she wondered how he would taste, especially when his eyes tracked the movement and his pupils dilated even more in the low light coming from their houses. “Can you tell me how he survives?”

  He chuckled as he brushed a strand of hair from her face, “Justice may just surprise you yet, Miss Ana. You know he likes to play fast and loose with the rules.”

  “But,” she started but at his look of disbelief she swallowed her words.

  Another light flipped on in his house and Ana’s first thought was he had a special guest over. The jealousy that swelled up was surprising and unwanted. A light came on in his front room and then the porch light came on. The person that walked out was much smaller than Ana would have expected and she frowned. The little moppet was also wrapped in a fuzzy pink robe with matching teddy bear slippers. But the thing that really brought the jealousy to a screeching halt was the pure voice of a little girl saying, “Daddy? Is everything okay?”

  Giving Ana a wry smile, Harrison stood up and then helped her to her feet. Not looking at Ana, he said, “I was just having a disagreement with our new neighbor.”

  “It’s four in the morning,” the little girl said, sounding far too mature for an eight year old. Of course, Harrison did say she was eight going on eighteen.

  “Yes, it is,” Harrison said grimly, his eyes darting to Ana and then just as quickly darting away. “So why are you awake, Jolie?”

  “I was thirsty and then I had to pee,” the little girl said. “But when I saw the lights on, I wondered what was happening. Who’s the new neighbor?”

  “Ana,” Ana said, introducing herself.

  “She’s just a few years older than you, sweetheart. I’m sure the two of you will get along famously,” Harrison added, earning a strange look from Ana. How could he possibly know how old she was? And she was more than a few years older than eight. Before she could correct him, he turned her so she was facing her house and murmured, “I trust you haven’t locked yourself out again?”

  Her eyes widened as she jerked her head towards the door. When she saw that it was still open, she released the breath she had been holding, He walked with her to the front door, probably to make sure she got inside before she needed to borrow his key again. “The cat is probably too warm and cozy to pull any shenanigans tonight. But in the morning, I swear he’ll push me out himself if he has the chance.”

  “Go to sleep,” he murmured as they paused on the step.

  “You’re for sure writing another book?” she asked cautiously, needing the confirmation.

  “Only if my neighbor stops locking herself out of her house,” he said with a smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He looked troubled for some reason and she wanted to ask him why he would be troubled but it was four in the morning and she was tired.

  “I promise,” she vowed. “Good night, Harrison.”

  “Good night, Ana.” He turned and walked away, gathering his daughter up in his arms as he went back into his house. When he shut his front door, she finally closed her door, barely aware of the sigh that slipped past her lips.

  Leaning against the door, she realized she was smiling and she was unable to wipe it off her face. With a bounce in her step, she headed up the stairs and laid down in bed, her thoughts racing a million miles an hour. For the first time in her life, she wanted to throw all caution to the wind and see where things went with Harrison. It didn’t matter that he had practically shoved her out the door the day before because there was no denying the attraction between them. Even though she herself didn’t have a lot of experience with men beyond kissing, she had read plenty of books and she could use all of her theoretical skills to bring him around. She was so excited at the prospect of flirting with Harrison that it didn’t even bother her when the cat joined her on the bed, making himself comfortable on her feet.

  She lay there for nearly two hours before she realized she wasn’t going to fall asleep. Despite the fact that she was beyond exhausted, she had too much energy to sleep. Getting up and heading into the kitchen, she gathered all of the ingredients she’d need to make homemade brownies. When she returned his clothes, she’d bring a batch of brownies as an apology for throwing his book at him. She’d save the pie for some other misdemeanor she’d no doubt cause in her quest to spend time with him.

  Her brows drew together as she realized she didn’t have the book anymore. Looking around as if she’d find it lying on the counter, she swore. H
opefully, he picked it up and it was safely in his hands once again. Otherwise, she’d have to figure out how to replace it and she had no idea how to do that. She’d have to ask him if he had the book the next time she saw him.

  Either way, she’d better make him her extra special, cream cheese brownies just to stay on his good side. Maybe she’d throw in the offer to babysit Jolie on nights he had to work. However, if he planned on taking some bimbo out on a date…. Heaving a sigh, she had to remind herself that she had no claim over him. In fact she had just met him and if he wanted to take some tramp out, she’d still offer to babysit. She just wouldn’t be happy about it.

  If he weren’t Harris Fallen, she might be able to deal with him dating someone else. But he was Harris Fallen and she had fallen in love with his characters, his words, nearly a year ago. She was utterly gob smacked that her aunt and uncle lived next door to him and had never said anything! Her aunt even knew how much she loved the books, since Ana gushed about them every chance she got. Ana would have thought her aunt would have said something, say, ‘Oh, by the way, Harris Fallen is our neighbor and he’s absolutely gorgeous.’

  Well, Ana didn’t think her aunt would comment on how hot Harrison was but she still could have told her favorite niece, her only niece, that Harris Fallen was their neighbor.

  “Mmreow,” the demon cat meowed from the doorway, swishing his fluffy tail and looking entirely too innocent. The little bastard probably pooped in her bed before he joined her downstairs. For being a mutt, albeit a gorgeous mutt with fluffy white hair and a hint of orange on his face and ears, he certainly had a prissy attitude.