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Chapter Twenty Five
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Protect and Serve Chapter Twenty Six
-------------- -------------- Sometime that day . . . -------------- -------------- Shamira felt a light tapping on her shoulder. There were many things she didn't want at the moment, and being awake was one of them. She and Clara were still tangled up in each other's arms, legs, and Shamira's nice cotton sheets. Slowly the muscular a****n opened one eye and looked up to see a grinning Renata standing over the bed. "Got an email you wanted to tag along to the airport?" "I di-nuh send nuh m-mail n-body," she muttered. "Choo?" Clara had stirred a bit and nodded. She was a bit more coherent, but not much. "You napped off. Logged on real fast. Knew you wouldn't have slept much, so I told her to come by." Clara grinned and kissed her. Shamira responded shyly at first, but each kiss seemed to energize her a bit. "Now get your cute butt in gear and get dressed. I'm goin' back . . . sleep." "Last night, you wanted me naked. Now it's 'get dressed.' Make up yer mind." Clara grinned aga
Protect and Serve Chapter Twenty Seven
------------ ----------------------- Later that afternoon . . . ------------ ----------------------- Shamira was a bit grouchy. She hadn't gotten much sleep at all that day, and then Shane had "summoned" her to the golf-course for a round with him and Banshee. Clara had grinned when her lover was grumbling and getting dressed, then the Native American herself had to report to the control room to relieve Raul for security detail. Shamira dressed up, grabbed the fancy new clubs that Shane had bought for her, then made her way to the first tee. When she got there, Lillian was also present. She was dressed in skintight black-spandex suit that contrasted nicely with her fiery-red hair. She also had a cherry-red ball gag in her mouth, with leather straps leading from it around her jaw and secured at the back of her neck. She was holding an umbrella over Shane, trying to look meek. Shamira just thought it made the former swimsuit-model-turned-necromancer just look sultry. 'Why can't I
Protect and Serve Chapter Twenty Eight
Shamira was pacing a trench in the area around the eighteenth green on Shane's golf course. It was bad enough that she had been a vampire for less than two weeks, a sexual submissive (in practice) or less than one week and that both things weighed heavily on her mind. She had just finished baring her soul about one of the most traumatic events of her existence, and now she'd met her first ghost who had an unbelievable message for her. "Bullshit!" she shouted again. "I assure you, that is the case as it stands." "Samantha is even more skeptical about this mystical shit that I am! I mean was. She's a born-again atheist, so why would she be seeing some kind of psychic --" "Medium," the ghost corrected her. "She is seeing a medium." "What are they saying now?" Banshee asked. Of the four beings who were not ghosts present, only Shamira and the necromancer Lillian could see the ghost. Shamira could only see him because he had come to see her. Shane and Banshee had to wait for interpre
Protect and Serve Chapter Twenty Nine
---------- ----------------------------- Fifteen long minutes later . . . ---------- ----------------------------- It was difficult for Shamira to open her hotel room door when her back was pressed against it, and with Clara pressed against her front. The Native American's hands were up under the other woman's shirt, grabbing those large breasts through the fabric of her bra. Clyde would call them when he got a hold of the medium responsible for contacting Shamira's sister, so the two vampires were going to occupy their time until he called. "Get the (pant) damn door open!" Clara said, unhooking Shamira's bra at last. The door fell open as Shamira finally got the card into the slot and shoved down on the handle, and both women tumbled into the room. The door was slowly closing as Shamira's shirt came off and Clara's bottoms were pulled down. Clara pushed her friend back onto the bed, then yanked the woman's boots and jeans off. "Damn, I wish you hadn't taken today off," Clara mu
Protect and Serve Chapter Thirty
------------- ------------------- Several hours later . . . ------------- ------------------- If she hadn't had such a great morning earlier, Shamira would be miserable. Even with her advanced recovery, she really needed more than a few hours of sleep before starting the day. But Clara's cell phone had erupted (to Warren Zevon's "Werewolves of London" as a ring tone, no less) with Clyde informing them that he had located the medium who had been dealing with Shamira's sister. They didn't ask how he had found out so fast, but they did show up at a little trailer-style business on the outskirts of town. Just as Shamira had thought, it was on the far side of town from where her sister lived and worked. Inside was a nervous young woman who had all the trappings of a stereotyped gypsy woman. The trailer-trash-blond was sitting next to Clyde, fidgeting and rubbing her hands. "I'm so sorry," she was saying as Clara and Shamira walked in. "I wasn't trying to expose anyone. It's just that
Protect and Serve Chapter Thirty One
------------------- --------- The next night . . . ------------------- --------- Clara and Shamira pulled back into the garage shortly before midnight. Shamira's spirits were high, and Clara was smiling despite complaining for the last three hours that Samantha and Shamira had just gotten their phones and didn't need to use them after spending half the day together. "It's actually good to be home," Shamira said, hanging the keys up on the wall. "Yes it is," came Clara's voice from behind her. The slimmer woman shoved Shamira against the wall. "And now, you need to remember that you're not in Kansas anymore. And it's not your day off anymore," she whispered heatedly into Shamira's ear. "Go to your room, put on something appropriate, and then report to Shane." She stepped back and brought a hand down hard on the muscular woman's denim-clad ass. "Got it?" "Yes Mistress Clara," Shamira crooned. 'Did I just croon?' she wondered. 'I guess I did.' Something was different. She was happi
Protect and Serve Chapter Thirty Two
Shane came in her mouth with little warning. He pulled out until only the head remained inside, then spurted several waves of warm jizz onto her tongue. "Swallow it," he growled, "and clean up the mess. Shamira happily obliged, swallowing his seed and then gently sucking and licking his softening member until it glistened with the moisture from her mouth and that was all. He stepped away and tucked himself back in, and then picked up the belt again. Moving to the side of the desk, he brought it down, making her back tingle. The rest of her was already tingling from what Henry was doing. She getting strapped and fucked at the same time, and she couldn't believe how good it felt. Their whole world revolved around her at the moment. Just for shits and giggles, she "strained" against the handcuffs, making sure every muscle of her arms, back, and shoulders was flexing to its utmost . . . so they knew the power of the animal they had captured. She wondered if it was just her imagination
Protect and Serve Chapter Thirty Three
Shamira found Henry waiting in the garage, his head under the hood of the Lincoln Blackwood he loved to drive. "You wanted to see me? At a highly inappropriate moment?" she added, giving him a meaningful glare. She had been in the middle of her "spider therapy" with Banshee when he had crept up behind her and lightly tapped her on the shoulder, freaking her out like nobody's business. Needless to say, she had left that session more freaked out about arachnid's than when she had gone in. "Yeah" He replaced the dipstick and closed the hood. "Remember Tabitha Grunholdt?" "One of Shane's donors, right? The judge's wife?" "Yeah, her." "What about her?" "We're going to kill her." Shamira had been looking over the cars in the garage when her feet stopped moving. "That's not funny." "Wasn't supposed to be," Henry said with a cocked grin. "Early next week was when I was thinking. We want to make it as painless as possible of course --" "You've got to be shitting me! Why would we kill h
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