Page 29 of A Shifter Disaster Thanksgiving

“Ride me, Diane,” he urged.

At his words, her body shivered, and she groaned as she began grinding against him, sending waves of ecstasy coursing through him. She leaned back, affording him a view of her breasts, and he almost sat up with her to take them into his mouth. Instead, he remained as he was, watching her half-silhouetted form as she drove the pair of them toward a mind-shattering orgasm.

This was his woman, his wife.

His love.

When their pleasure reached a climax, moments later, she splayed her hands on his chest, her nails digging into his flesh, and a sharp cry erupted from her lips as her body quivered. She continued to rock against him, and Sylvester found himself shuddering as he, too, reached his release.

Then it was all over. She sank against him with a sated sigh, her breasts crushed against his chest, and he kissed her tenderly, his fingers raking through her hair, his heart thudding in sync with hers. And in the moments before his eyes slid shut and his consciousness slipped away, he heard her murmur something into his ear, but could barely make out the words.

***

A distant rap woke him. Sylvester opened his eyes and drew a breath, his head feeling as if it had been submerged in the water. He pulled himself into a sitting position and glanced around at his surroundings. His gaze landed on the naked form of Diane next to him, still asleep. A smile teased his lips as the memory of last night’s events returned.

He knew he was fortunate to have this woman and not because of the sex. No, far from it. Whether it was purelycoincidental that he had been in the air on the day her plane crashed, or it was fate that had brought them together, he would never know, but since meeting her, not once had he regretted saving her life.

She was good company, too, he decided, especially after all these years of solitude. A companion—awife—was what he needed. Sylvester’s grin widened. It was still strange to think of her as his wife—particularly given the circumstances under which they’d met—and yet it felt so right to call her that, as though their union had been fated after all.

What’s more, she had stayed, even when she had the opportunity escape. Whether it was his warning that had stopped her, or she had chosen to stay with him, Sylvester had no idea, but he was very glad of her presence.

He heard another rap and it occurred to him that someone was knocking on the door of his cabin. Next to him, Diane stirred in her sleep, but she did not wake. Wondering who could possibly be disturbing them so early in the morning, he climbed out of bed, threw on some clothes, and made his way to the front door. Most likely it was Jon or Quinta, here to remind him that today was Thanksgiving.

He wrenched open the door and found himself standing face to face with a short, timid-looking man.

“Elias,” he muttered. His brow furrowed with confusion. Then a flicker of irritation swept through him. “What bringsyouhere this morning?”

Elias averted his gaze as if fearing he might get punched. “I’ve come with a message from Chief Gregory.”

Of course.“Don’t tell me he’s summoned me.” It would be an unpleasant turn of events if Gregory had somehow suspected he might be up to something and had decided to stop him before he could carry out his plan. After their last interaction in the chief’s quarters, he wouldn’t put that past his brother.

But Elias shook his head fervently.

“No, sir,” he replied. “He would like to celebrate today’s Thanksgiving with his family.”

Sylvester scoffed, half-itching to slam the door in the aide’s face. “Tell him I’m spending the day with my wife, Jon, and Quinta. I’m not going over to meet him. That will be all, I presume?”

“Actually, there is one more thing…”

“What is it?”

“It’s about the war between Pine Gap and Glenstra.”

Sylvester’s eyes slowly widened. He pulled open the door, staring intently at the smaller man. His heart slammed violently in his ribcage. “What’s happening?”

Elias cleared his throat, returning his gaze all of a sudden. “There will be no more war between Glenstra and Pine Gap. As we speak, both villages have agreed to work on a peaceful end to the conflict.”

Sylvester’s hand trembled. “What?”

Chapter Thirteen

A Thanksgiving Murder Mystery

As far as Thanksgiving dinners went, this one was not so bad. Most Thanksgiving dinners involved some kind of family drama, and this was no exception.

They all sat in Quinta’s living room; neighbors sat in chairs they’d brought. There were twelve of them in total. Quinta and her husband sat beside each other as did she and Sylvester. People Diane hadn’t met talked animatedly. But that wasn’t what was causing the knot in her stomach. It was how Sylvester glowered at his brother.

Gregory Stormbringer sat with his legs crossed, a wooden plate resting on his knee. The village chief had put on a dark jacket for the occasion and was talking with everyone else. When his gaze drifted toward Sylvester, the smile would waver. Once or twice, Diane felt Sylvester’s body twitch, and she knew it was taking all his restraint to keep himself from acting on whatever thoughts were swirling through his mind right now.

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