Page 82 of Kiss of Wrath

“A pontoon? That’s booor-ing!” Sam declared.

“Well, you could always stay home with a babysitter.” Mordr yawned as if he could not care less, either way. “I am sure one of my brothers would come watch over you. I, on the other hand, am looking forward to boating and swimming and fishing.”

Sam and all the others agreed that sounded like a wonderful adventure and they turned expectantly to Miranda.

“Are you sure it would be safe?” she asked Mordr. The unspoken question was not just the safety of boating on a lake, but the danger from Roger or the demon creatures.

“Very safe,” Mordr assured her.

“Well, okay, I guess.”

The words were barely out of her mouth than the children shot off in all different directions to get beach gear—towels, flippers, goggles, swimming suits, etc.

“Do you know how to drive a boat?” she asked Mordr as he went out into the garage to get an ice chest for drinks and snacks.

“Miranda! I grew up on boats. I am a Viking.”

“Yeah, but are you familiar with motorized boats, like a pontoon?”

“Of course,” he said. At her look of doubt, he admitted, “Not so much. But how different could they be?”

She rolled her eyes. “You seem so different today. You’d never recognize you from the man who came here, reluctant to even be around children.”

He shrugged. “I have decided not to fight fate anymore. What will be will be.”

“Really?”

He came up behind her where she was dumping ice cubes from the ice maker bin into a large zipper bag. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he kissed her neck.

She turned in his arms and realized that he’d undone the bow of her robe. His hands were already inside, rubbing against her butt. With the thin barrier of her nightgown, she felt almost naked. And the evidence of his attraction to her pressed against her belly, his cargo shorts hiding nothing.

She put her arms around his neck and leaned back so that she could see his face. “Does this surrender to fate apply to us, as well?”

“Do you doubt it, wench?” He rubbed himself back and forth against her. While he seemed to turn her on with just a look, let alone such blatant action, she was more turned on by her effect on him. His eyes—always a clear, stunning blue—turned silvery blue. His lips parted. She could feel his strong heartbeat. And, God help her, but his incisors seemed to be slightly elongated with arousal.

“You said you would be in big trouble if you got involved with me,” she squeaked out in a lame attempt to slow down this speeding train of sexual attraction.

“True,” he said, and nipped at her ear.

Just his breath at her ear caused ripples of pleasure to skim over her skin and lodge in her girl places. His hands were another story altogether. They explored her body with lazy, long-fingered expertise. Her bottom, her breasts, the small of her back, her shoulders. Slow hands! Just like that old Pointer Sisters song.

“You are smiling,” he noted, and kissed her softly. “Does that mean you agree?”

“To what?”

He chuckled. “To boating on Lake Mead.”

She frowned with confusion. “I thought we were talking about something else.”

With a teasing grin, he told her, “That is the best thing about us Vikings. We can do more than one thing at a time.”

“Multitaskers?”

“Definitely. The more erotic the tasks, the better.”

And, yes, he was stimulating her in more than one place at a time, in more than one way at a time. Oooh! She was the one who was in trouble here.

Just then Larry rushed into the kitchen, about to ask Miranda a question, “Aunt Mir, where is my—? Mordr! You’re playin’ kissy face with Aunt Mir. Yuck! Aunt Mir, he has his hand on your bum. Double yuck!” On those words, he rushed back out, no doubt to report their carnal activity to his siblings.