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LENGTH: Long Category
SENSUALITY: Spicy/Carnal

Cover art (c) Amber Moon 2008
ISBN: 978-1-60394-147-1
Download: $4.99
(s&h not included in price)

The Legacy Renaud and Lorelei had inherited from their father was a death sentence if the men who’d captured and imprisoned their father ever caught up with them, but there was little they could do beyond depend on one another.

Lorelei’s father had promised her that her mate would know how to protect both her and her brother, however. Was War the mate her father had foreseen? Or would she only lead the man she loved to his death?

Rating:spicy/carnal. Some adult situations and language, graphic forced seduction scene.Previously published.

WEAKSPOT

By

J.J. Massa

This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s

imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or

events is merely coincidence

Dedication

To my husband Jimmy, my daughter Courtney and my editor Tracey. I couldn't have done it without you!

Prologue

As seven-year-old Lorelei swirled around the frozen pond with her brother, she felt their father approach. She reached up and squeezed the charm hanging around her neck. Her papa would know she was excited but he wouldn’t know why.

“Here he comes, Renaud,” she giggled to her brother excitedly. “Hide in front of me!”

Renaud picked his smaller sister up and skated a figure eight with her in his arms. He released her and she flowed gracefully away from him laughing.

“You’re too short, silly. I’ll just try to hunch down and skate.” He was as excited as she was in his own understated way.

Lorelei knew that, even though she’d worn her bulkiest coat, Renaud would be hard-pressed to stay unnoticed near her. She was slim and delicate with gold-colored hair. Renaud had black hair, and at seven years old, he was already developing a bulkier and more muscular shape.

Lorelei waved at her papa just before she cleared the tree line. Quickly, she spun away so that her back was to him. When she heard him approach the bank, she placed her hands on Renaud’s shoulders so that, as he rose, the two executed an elegant turn that brought Lorelei in front of him. They glided gracefully to the bank of the pond.

Lorelei saw tears form in her father’s eyes and felt her brother’s hesitation.

“It’s okay Renaud. Its happy tears!” She put her hand in his and he held on tight as together, they surged forward into the big man’s arms.

“You have my eyes,” the man rumbled emotionally. “My son, my son ....”

Her father reached over and placed a finger on Lorelei’s glowing medallion. “I have one for you, as well, Renaud,” he said, pulling a chain and medallion from around his neck and dropping it over the boy’s head.

Red light flashed around the boy and he stood rigid, wrapped in his father’s arms. The light faded and Renaud shook his head, hard.

Renaud touched his charm and compared it to his sister’s. His had a short-winged dancer with a wolf’s head. It held a ruby in its open jaws. Lorelei’s was a delicate dancer with graceful wings. It perched on a yellow stone of fine amber.

The man pulled his medallion out and let the brother and sister touch it, telling them, “Now we can all feel each other. Someday, when you two grow up, Lorelei’s mate will wear this one.”

His was the graceful and masculine shape of a male dancer with an eagle’s head and short wings. It held a sapphire in its muscular arms.

“Shall we find a quiet bench, Papa?” Lorelei asked. She was beginning to shiver.

“In for a penny, in for a pound, Lorelei,” her papa boomed. “We will go and be warm as we talk.”

Climbing into his limousine, the man ordered his driver to acquire some hot chocolate and to close the dividing window.

“I told you, Papa,” breathed Lorelei as the car began to move. “I knew he’d come in time.”

“May I call you Papa, too?” asked Renaud, gazing at the large man.

“Of course, my son,” his father choked out. He seemed so proud to be with his children. “Only, don’t speak of me except to your sister, Renaud.”

Renaud smiled wryly, a smile that was unusual for a seven year old. “Papa,” he said, trying it out. He beamed. “Today is the first time I’ve ever spoken out loud. My sister is the only person besides you to hear my voice.”

“You know you must talk to others, Renaud?” the man asked the boy. “I know you don’t like living apart, but it is best for now. With the medallions, you will always feel your sister’s presence so you won’t be alone anymore.”

“I must always wear this, Papa?” asked Renaud.

“Yes, son,” his father answered him.

“All the charms were blessed years ago and passed through my family. If you wear it, it will help you be strong and remain unhurt. The medallions help us feel what the other is feeling. There are five generations of our family’s blood on each charm, including each of yours,” he explained.

“You will be able to help your sister and she can help you as long as you wear it. Someday, when my medallion will be passed to Lorelei’s mate, you will add a drop of his blood to yours then.”

“Since my mother hears people’s thoughts, I can, too, right?” asked Lorelei. “That’s why I can make you and Renaud hear what I say in my head sometimes, huh?” Lorelei liked that those she loved best knew what she was thinking.

“Papa, Rory and me would be happier if we could live with you. Why can’t we?” Lorelei knew that Renaud didn’t want to be away from them. He’d finally found his sister and his father and he felt good.

This seemed difficult for the man. “Renaud, Lorelei, I know you want to be together but there are some bad people who might hurt you just because you are my children,” he tried to explain.

“You must stay with your mothers now and do your best so that you can both grow strong.”

Lorelei considered this. “You mean we won’t grow strong if we’re together?”

“While you are small, it’s best to live apart. You will learn all the things your bodies and minds can do. Lorelei, all your life you will get hurt easily and you must be careful. Renaud, you will be too strong and difficult to injure but your emotions will be few. The older you get, the more you will need to help each other.”

The man was trying to keep it simple for them. Lorelei could tell that he wanted them to understand but he didn’t want to scare them.

“If you were together, the bad people would notice you. When you are older, that’s when you will need to be closer to each other. Your life began at the same time and will end at the same time.”

They didn’t like it, but Lorelei and Renaud would do as their father asked.

When dusk fell that night, their Papa escorted them back to the frozen pond so they could return to their mothers. He held them both in his arms, promising to see them at least once a year. They would never be alone again. His love would always guide them.

Chapter One

Everyone has a weak spot. Ballerina Lorelei Eliza Allemande’s personal weakness was coffee-mocha flavored milkshakes on hot summer days. She had resigned herself to life without them as long as she was buried in the mosquito infested Louisiana swamp, until now. Just today, the local burger chain had begun to advertise a special. A quick phone call assured her that a nearby fast-food restaurant did indeed have her favorite shake and a drive-thru to go with it. It must be destiny.

The air conditioning in her little car was iffy at best – after two hundred thousand miles of hard labor she would forgive these signs of age. It should be a quick, short trip, anyway. She wouldn’t even get out of the car.

She pulled on a pink crop t-shirt emblazoned with the likeness of a little girl duck with red hair. It was too hot out there for a bra. Besides, she was pretty small on top. Nobody would ever know.

In the interests of remaining cool, Lorelei donned a short, wrap-around skirt that tied on the side. It hung barely two inches below the line of her very high hipped, thin panties.

Hey, was summertime in Southern Louisiana. It was hot!

She grabbed a pair of slip-on toe shoes and off she went.

Lorelei was in a great mood. She could not believe her luck! She loved her new home. She lived only a few miles from her brother for the first time ever! And now she’d be enjoying her beloved frozen nectar in minutes.

Lorelei Allemande had an enormous Coffee Mocha shake and was easing out of the drive-thru when her good lucky streak ended.

* * * *

Sheriff Dekon Warrick Martine had every intention that the damn fool who was making his bad day worse share in his misery.

His mood was so foul that the werewolf in him was taking over and he could barely speak in complete sentences. He knew his blue-black hair had become shaggy and his teeth were growing slightly elongated. He’d damaged the door to his SUV getting in and the steering wheel would have to be replaced again.

He’d gone inside the Burger Bin to speak with the manager of the town’s most popular fast-food place. It seemed that a group of rowdy teens had been loitering there and causing trouble.

Lawrence Brunet, his nephew Renaud’s human uncle, had been inside. That was what had caused his mood to spiral downward. The man had stopped the Sheriff to complain about their nephew’s childhood friend moving into town. According to Lawrence, she was influencing the boy in all kinds of deviant ways.

He was leaving the parking lot and heading for the main thoroughfare when a car from the drive-thru plowed into his front fender. He hit the lights and signaled to the idiot to follow him around back.

He didn’t like to do his business in public if quiet places were available. Besides, this imbecile would feel the brunt of his bad mood today and he wanted room and privacy for that.

Lorelei saw the Sheriff place his hat on his head and remove his sunglasses. He got out of the SUV and sauntered to her car’s window.

He wore the standard issue khaki uniform with stripes down the legs. The cotton-polyester fabric blend was stretched tight in the early heat. His thighs were as well muscled as his torso and the uniform clung to him like a second skin.

“Aft’noon, ma’am,” the officer said casually. His midnight blue eyes were anything but causal.

“Sir,” she squeaked. Under other circumstances, Lorelei would have enjoyed looking at this sexy policeman. Right now, she wished she could stare at him from afar.

The Sheriff adjusted his body to block the afternoon sun and turned his head away from her. For just a moment, Lorelei admired his trim hips, flat stomach, and broad muscular chest taking up the space in her car's window.

When he looked down at her again, she could see anger flickering in his dark blue eyes. His wrath was almost palpable. She held herself rigid to keep from flinching.

“Seems you were a mite distracted back there, little lady. Wanna tell me about it?” he challenged in a hard voice.

No, not really.

“Umm. I’m sorry, sir. I just – I’m sorry, it’s ....” She took a deep breath. "This is my fault entirely," she told him resolutely.

No doubt her insurance agent back in Connecticut had felt a ripple in the force when she said that. Now if she could just keep her chin from wobbling.

Lorelei ran a finger over the delicate chain around her neck and pulled out her amber medallion. It began to glow softly. She was incredibly nervous, not quite afraid, but definitely apprehensive. Any strong emotion caused her charm to glow.

“Ma’am, you're awful agitated for a little fender bender. Now why that is?” he asked in his deep, molasses and gravel voice. “Perchance you have been enjoying a libation down the road, no?”

“No! No, sir, I promise. I only got a milk shake! See? You can taste it!” she tried to be as up-front as she could.

They always told you to cooperate with the police, right?

“Sir,” she tried again, “you—I mean this—just makes me nervous.” Her voice was high. She was on the verge. She squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath.

Opening them again, she looked up at him, trying to appear as guiltless as possible. He turned his face into the bright sunlight again. She was sure he was trying to control his ire.

“Little lady, I need your license and registration and you're gonna have to get down,” he ordered in a growl.

She handed him the documents he’d asked for but gave him a quizzical frown.

“Get down, sir?” she croaked. She’d bet he didn’t mean break-dance.

“Get down, petit. Step out of the car,” he explained sternly.

That’s what she was afraid he’d meant.

“You can wait ‘til I run your license,” he told her.

Thank Heaven! A reprieve.

Lorelei tugged on her little skirt and tried to control her breathing. If she didn’t get a grip, she’d have her brother thinking she was in trouble. She just knew that the Sheriff would give her a break after he found out what a law-abiding citizen she really was.

As it happened, he was in no way influenced by her lack of a criminal past.

“Step out of the car, please, miss!” the Sheriff ordered in a growl.

“Oh sir,” she croaked, her voice cracking. He leaned in closer. “I can’t get out. I just can’t!”

His eyes narrowed. "Explain yourself, Mademoiselle!” His sharp command brooked no argument.

Miserably, she told him, “I’m not dressed.”

His brows met sharply in the center of his forehead. “Mademoiselle, I am not amused!” he gritted. “Your body appears covered, at least mostly, anyway. I don't have the day to play with you. I don’t know about where you’re from, but here in Louisiana, arguing with the law is considered impeding an investigation and non-cooperation. If you were covered enough to flaunt yourself in the neighborhood saloon you are covered enough for an arrest!” His voice sounded very growly now.

“Ohhh noo! No arrest!” she protested, opening the car door. “Sir, I assure you, I .…” She was taking deep breaths now to avoid panic.

Nothing like this had ever happened to her before.

“I don’t even know where there is a bar around here.” She was scared and upset and trying mightily to keep control.

“Face the vehicle and assume the position!” he barked.

When she did, he leaned against her and used a leg to spread hers wide apart.

She was afraid she’d fall.

He took both her hands and raised them above her head, placing them on the roof of the car. Her cropped tee barely covered her breasts in that position. She felt very bare, indeed.

The car she was leaning on was scorching. The man pressed behind her was equally scorching. She was frightened, sure, but she found his nearness and his husky male scent a little arousing. Both the situation and the arousal were new to her.

She was shaking like a wet kitten. She had to try to calm down. Near her ear, his sandpaper and maple syrup voice spoke just above a whisper.

“I’m gonna have to pat you for drugs or weapons, chére. It’s the rules in these situations, hmmm?”

“Okay,” she responded breathlessly, grateful that he was explaining things to her. Then she felt his big hands moving down her arms, across her shoulders, and down her back.

Why hadn’t she worn a bra? Why!

When she felt his large hands on her abdomen, Lorelei began to tremble. When his hands moved up and slowly covered her small but naked breasts she was sure she would fall. Her nipples hardened against his palms instantly, and her knees turned to jelly.

It took far too long for him to move his hands away, though it was only seconds. When his fingers brushed her taut nipples, she was humiliated to feel hot cream gush between her legs. Her body jerked and he pressed his thigh against her rear end. She made a little strangled noise. This just can't be happening!

“Shhh, s’okay, petit chére. It’s almost over.” This he growled hoarsely into her ear.

“Why won’t the earth open up and just swallow me?” she whispered. She hated being such a big baby but she couldn’t help it. She was a big baby.

“Just wait. It will in a second,” he chuckled. She gasped in helpless outrage.

With that, his calloused hands moved up her legs. Those legs began to shake. One hand cupped the mound of her sex and the other skimmed her bottom.

His fingertips lightly probed the elastic at her inner thighs. She jerked in surprise and his fingers slipped under the elastic, sliding over the moist lips of her sex. Those fingers tugged at her dewy labia as he removed his hand from her panties. She felt a flood of gathering moisture as his calloused skin caressed her there.

“Oh, no,” she moaned. “Please stop. Oh please .…” Lorelei was overwhelmed. No man had ever touched her there. This man was a complete stranger.

How could she be so aroused by a stranger? How? Was something wrong with her?

“S’all right, ma petit,” he cooed. “It’s all over.” He eased her away from the hot car and let her stand against him for a minute.

He turned her and put both arms around her. “Don't be embarrassed, chére,” he soothed, “Lot of folks don't wear much this time of year. It’s hot, hot this summer.”

She leaned on him for a minute. She was still trembling. He rubbed her back. One tear trickled down her cheek and he caught it with his thumb. She was so humiliated.

“In a minute, chére, I’m gonna lean down and I want you to breathe in my face, yeah? You can do that?” His rumbling voice vibrated through his chest. She straightened up.

“Yes, sir, I’ll do that,” she whispered. After everything else, she’d have spit-shined his shoes with her hair if that would make this episode of hell end.

He leaned down near her face. He was at least a foot taller than her 5’ 1”. She exhaled and he breathed in deeply. He straightened, turned his head and closed his eyes. She hoped the milkshake hadn’t soured on her breath.

“Seems like you passed your Breathalyzer, chére.” He winked at her, teasing her about her milkshake obsession. “Perhaps you should be more careful with that little passion of yours, yeah?”

“Oh sir, I’ll never have another one, I promise!” she was nearly giddy.

“Mais non, don't go givin’ up your pleasure. Just wait till you get home, sil vous plait,” he advised her. “Chére, it seems we’ve crossed enough grass together to call one another by name, no? I’m Dekon Warrick Martine. Most folks call me Sheriff War or just War.”

Her face went scarlet. “Oh, no! I couldn’t!”

She had just run into his car, been felt up by him in the name of the law, and nearly come all over him while he was just trying to do his job. She wasn’t going to be able to chat with him in the grocery store.

Please, God, just kill me now!

“I’m Lorelei Allemande. Rory is short for Lorelei.” She had to force herself to speak. She knew her voice was a little squeaky. Was he trying not to laugh at her? His inky blue eyes were sparkling.

“I believe I’ll call you Lorelei when I don't call you mon petit, or mon chére,” he said with a sinful wink.

She guessed he could call her his little darlin’ if he wanted. In her short twenty-one years of life, he was the only man to have put his hands on her breasts or between her legs. And little was a good description of her breasts as far as that went. Right now, she’d go along with nearly anything he said he was going to do. She just needed one tiny favor.

“Sir? Um, Sheriff War? Can you please, would you …? Oh shoot.” She stumbled through asking him.

“What’s wrong, chére?” She knew he thought she had a bee in her bonnet about something. He leaned against his SUV, watching her intently.

“Does anyone have to know that you had to frisk me?” Storm clouds gathered on his face.

“For why you ask?” he rumbled. There was a hard edge to his voice now.

Uh oh. What had she said? She just didn’t know how to interact with men. Had she bruised his ego? Men were said to have terribly sensitive egos. That wouldn’t be so bad if they weren’t big and scary like this one.

She hung her head and mumbled, “My students will tease me unmercifully anyway for hitting your car. Everybody’ll know somehow.” She took a deep breath and plunged on. “I just didn’t want them to tease me about you being–about a man ....” She took another deep breath and turned her bowed head away from him, “I didn’t want the guys to tease me about you touching me,” she said in a rush.

She expelled her breath and kept her head down. She was sure she was permanently scarlet. She’d have to wear pink leotards from now on. She peeked up quickly. At first his brow furrowed, then real anger dawned on his face.

“You don't care if ‘the guys’ know you wrecked my truck by driving recklessly but you don't want them to hear I touched you?” War growled, an angry eyebrow arched but she didn’t see it. Lorelei kept her head down. She didn’t want to see that angry look again.

He placed a finger under her chin and raised her still-scarlet face. She saw his arched eyebrow and closed her eyes. “I don’t want to encourage any of them,” she got out, finally.

One side of his mouth kicked up in a half smile. He didn’t want to encourage any of ‘em either. He made a mental note to find out who ‘the guys’ were. He slid an arm around her back and pulled her into him. Her flaming face was hidden against his chest.

“Okay, I’ll promise, chére. Our secret.” He smiled at her sigh of relief.

He hoped she wouldn’t mind that he was touching her again. She might as well get used to it. He decided he’d do it any chance he got.

He inhaled deeply, enjoying her light, intriguing scent. It was no longer laced with fear and, though she wasn’t as aroused as before, she still smelled slightly aroused. Good.

Reluctantly, War released her and stepped back. He walked over to her car and inspected the dent in the front left fender.

After a few minutes of feeling under the bumper and checking the left front tire, War was satisfied with its safety. He moved to the little car and opened the car door for her.

“Seems like it be just fine, chére,” he said.

She settled herself in the driver’s seat. In an oddly intimate gesture, he closed the car door and leaned into the window.

“I’ll have to come over and drop off the accident report in a day or so. This the correct address?”

“Yes, sir,” she stammered.

“Don't make me arrest you for failure to comply, chére.” He gave her one more wicked wink and tapped the roof of the car.

“Sheriff War, sir.” She grinned in obvious relief, wrinkled her nose at him and started to drive away. He chuckled and got into his own damaged vehicle.

War was surprised to see his nephew, Renaud, edge his little truck in behind the battle-weary car. It looked very much as if the boy was following Lorelei Allemande. He trailed the small convoy back to Main Street and noticed that Renaud and Mlle. Allemande both parked behind a building there.

War sat in his truck a minute mulling over the last hour.

Lorelei Allemande, what a surprise. A beautiful, welcome surprise.

He wouldn’t lie to himself. Her scent had been driving him insane. He just wanted to inhale her into his lungs. He found her delicate features beautiful to look at, and her innocence was even more of a turn-on for him.

She was as delicate as a porcelain doll. Her eyes were an intriguing green. She had a cap of short, dark gold hair. As fragile as she looked, he wondered how she didn’t break just going from one place to the next.

So fine.

War had had to steel himself to keep from giving in. That little Yankee needed to take driving—and paying attention-and dealing with the police much more seriously. She had plowed into him, not even watching where she was going. She could have hurt someone. He’d believed it was his duty to put a scare into her.

He had tried to go by the book but patting her down had been incredibly erotic. He hadn’t meant to touch her so intimately. If she hadn’t jumped in surprise, it wouldn’t have happened. Her cotton panties had been damp and her inner lips had moistened his fingers with her juices.

He had been quite aroused. Hell, he was in pain he was so hard. He knew he was suffering. But the torture was exquisite. When he'd held her against him, he hadn't been able to resist sucking her cream from his fingers.

He definitely wanted another taste of that. And no bra, Mon Dieu!