Redemption Excerpt

Redemption by Sherrill Quinn, part of the Zodiac: Pisces duet

Abby McNeil was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and now her life is in danger. She is assigned a supernatural Protector--Damon Stratham. Damon's job: protect this innocent from harm while remaining invisible and unknown to her. But Abby's an extraordinary woman and Damon's not one to follow the rules. Add a cranky archangel boss and a vampire Protector, and all sorts of mayhem ensues.

Damon felt almost a sense of domesticity, watching her putter around the small apartment, talking to the cat and laughing at herself. If nothing else, her encounter with him seemed to have lightened her mood. For that he was glad. If only...

He deliberately closed his mind to further thought. He was here to do a job. He was to make sure she was protected from the man who sought to harm her, a man who had very nearly succeeded when her former Protector had been distracted.

Damon had been given very strict instructions to assure her safety; he’d sat beside her as she lay in the hospital bed, both legs in casts, face bruised and swollen. She had been stubbornly determined to get well, and he’d fallen a little bit in love with her then.

Abby had been in the wrong place at the wrong time and had unwittingly witnessed a vicious crime. Not that she was even aware of it. But the man thought she was, and sought to silence her forever. Which was where Damon came in. He was her Protector, and he’d be damned if he’d let the villain succeed.

He stilled, realizing the import of his words. The veracity they represented. Never mind that she was his hope for redemption, another successfully completed assignment. He would accept the damnation of his eternal soul if it ensured that Abigail McNeil would be safe.

She was more than just a job to him, had been from the moment he’d materialized in her hospital room and had seen her lying so still against the sheets. Now, after having protected her for these many months, he knew he would risk everything to ensure she lived.

When she went into the bathroom and readied for bed, he stayed in the living room. Hearing the water in the shower running, he clenched his fists. He closed his eyes and had no problem picturing what she looked like. Her hair, wet and sleek down her back, curled slightly at the ends just above the rounded curve of her buttocks. Long, slender legs, once strong, now weaker and scarred.

In his mind’s eye, he moved around to her front. Her breasts rode high and firm above her ribcage. Each mound was tipped with a hard, pink nipple, begging for his mouth. Her stomach was slightly rounded, womanly. Soft, light red hair covered her mons and sheltered her secrets from his gaze. He could see her soaping her hands, running them over her soft skin, between her legs...

His cock rose and he stared in disbelief. Again he had an erection. What the hel...heck was going on?

The water shut off and he snapped open his eyes. He heard the shower curtain jangle open, and imagined her stepping out of the tub and toweling off. He wished it were his hands drying her. No, not his hands. His lips, his tongue. He would trace every drop of water, licking it off her silken skin.

“Poor baby,” she said, walking back into the living room. He stilled, then realized she spoke to the tabby winding around her ankles. She held her robe over one arm and wore a towel wrapped turban-style around her head... and nothing else. “I forgot to feed you. Come on.”

She drew on her robe as she went into the kitchen, but Damon had the image of her body seared in his mind. She was exactly as he’d pictured. High, taut breasts with soft pink nipples, long slender legs that melded into a heart-shaped ass. What he hadn’t imagined was the smattering of freckles across her chest.

He was partial to freckles. Fairy kisses, his mother had always called them. They made him want to kiss his way around Abby’s body, following that golden, inviting trail.

Abby fed the cat and got herself a drink of water. When she went into her bedroom, he couldn’t resist following her. She rubbed the towel against her wet hair, then dropped it over the back of a chair. Shrugging off the robe, she slid into bed naked.

Damon watched for a while, listening to her sighing breaths as they evened out in sleep. Slender shoulders peeked above the sheets, skin not much darker than the pristine white linens. He moved close enough to be able to see the gilded trail of fairy kisses across her chest. The little sprinkles disappeared under the sheet.

He wanted to follow that path and see if the freckles continued on skin that rarely saw sunlight.

Thinking of her lying there naked didn’t do anything to lessen his erection. He snagged the towel from the back of the chair and quickly walked back into the living room before he did something stupid--and forbidden--like slide into bed with her.

There was still the problem of his hard-on. Not bothering to question it any more, he took on corporeal form and unzipped his pants. His cock, the tip already pushing above the waist of his briefs, throbbed in its demand for release. He pushed his underwear down, hooked it under his tight balls, and gripped his shaft in his right hand.

His fist slid up, once, twice, then he ran it from the tip to the base, a quick brush. He imagined it was Abby touching him, light, soft hands moving slowly against his thick, pulsing shaft. With a sigh, he acknowledged that he didn’t need it slow and gentle. He needed hard and fast.

Copyright ©2006 Sherrill Quinn. All Rights Reserved.