Primal Instinct
Authors: Helen Hardt
Primal Instinct
by Helen Hardt
The Wild Rose Press
www.thewildrosepress.com
Copyright ©2010 by Helen B. McConnell
First published in 2010
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Primal Instinct
by Helen Hardt
CONTENTS
* * * *
Primal Instinct
by Helen Hardt
Primal Instinct
by
Helen Hardt
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Primal Instinct
by Helen Hardt
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and
incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or
are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons
living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is
entirely coincidental.
Primal Instinct
COPYRIGHT (C) 2010 by Helen B. McConnell
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or
reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written
permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press except in the
case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or
reviews.
Contact Information: [email protected]
Cover Art by
Angela Anderson
The Wild Rose Press
PO Box 708
Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708
Visit us at www.thewilderroses.com
Publishing History
First Scarlet Rose Edition, July 2010
Published in the United States of America
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Primal Instinct
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For you—you know who you are.
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Primal Instinct
by Helen Hardt
PRAISE FOR AUTHOR
Helen Hardt
AND HER BOOKS
THAI'D UP
"Is it hot in here? I mean it's July, the sun is blazing, but
I'm sitting in an air conditioned house sweating bullets.
Congratulations Ms. Hardt, you dropped me into the middle of
a scorching hot story and let me burn."
~Seriously Reviewed
Montego Lay
"All I can say about Ms. Hardt's scintillating tale is...Hot!
Hot! Hot!"
"A gorgeous man, a sizzling, exotic location and enough
rum drinks to go around...when you put them all together you
get a gratifying story that will leave you out of breath and
ready to book your own vacation."
~Cherokee Rose, Whipped Cream Reviews
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Primal Instinct
by Helen Hardt
Primal Instinct
The scent was unmistakably female.
Columbine, yeast, mingled with fresh morning dew.
With something more.
The golden-brown lion perked his
ears. His flowing mane drifted softly in the night breeze.
She
is here.
A second lion, as pale as wheat, padded toward his
companion. He sniffed the air.
Mate.
Brown eyes met blue.
Can it be?
The dark cat shifted from one large paw to the other.
If we
both sense it, it must be.
Needles on the evergreens whistled dulcetly, a nocturnal
melody to their feline ears. They inhaled in synchrony.
Female. Mate. Ours.
The spicy scent of wild plum sashayed through the air and
sprinkled zest amid the Columbine and yeast fragrance.
Different, yes. But unmistakably female.
Unmistakably theirs.
She was near.
The lions roared to the rising moon. The evergreens
rustled in response. Through the forest the animals ran, their
paws thudding against the cool hard ground.
The scent was unmistakably male.
Two bodies crushed hard against her. They'd appeared
from nowhere when Erin approached the small bar. Though
she'd planned to spend most of the week hiding away in the
small cabin she'd rented in the Rocky Mountains, after two
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Primal Instinct
by Helen Hardt
days she craved company, so she decided to visit the
clubhouse of the rustic resort.
She breathed in the spicy aroma. Sand. Leather. A touch
of cinnamon. Undeniable male musk. Primal.
A year of voluntary celibacy—were all thirty-something
men married, gay, or brainless boobs?—had prompted Erin to
take a week of vacation from her job as a pharmacist and
embark on a soul-searching pilgrimage. Men? Who needed
them? She'd get to know herself. Get to know what made Erin
Monroe tick and contemplate a life of single solitude.
That enticing virile fragrance, not to mention the crushing
warmth of two hot bodies, wasn't helping her cause.
"Can I help you?" the bartender asked.
Erin's skin prickled as four slightly slanted masculine
eyes—two blue and clear, two dark and smoky—burned into
her.
"She'll have what we're having," the dark-eyed man said.
She turned and met his gaze. "Excuse me?" A mug of stout
sat in front of him. "I don't drink beer. So no, thank you."
"Whatever you want then, honey," he said. "It's on us."
"For sure," the other said. His body edged closer to hers,
until not a part of her wasn't touching him. Erin tingled. What
the hell was going on? The caress seemed far too intimate,
though they were all fully clothed and in a public place.
Her skin warmed with embarrassment over how she was
dressed. Sweats and a tank top. Clingy, yes, and her body
was pretty good thanks to daily doses of yoga. But sweats?
She was hardly clothed for seduction. The two men, though,
looked gorgeous in loose faded jeans. Dark Eyes wore a black
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Primal Instinct
by Helen Hardt
polo, Blue Eyes a faded gray T-shirt. Both sported finely
sculpted shoulders and arms that pleaded to be stroked.
And she wanted to stroke them.
But that would defeat the purpose of this self-imposed
mini-retreat.
Be strong, Erin.
"What's your name, beautiful?" This from Blue Eyes. His
voice was deep and his words drawn out. Almost like a purr.
One long finger drifted over her hand on the bar. More
tingles.
Erin edged her hand away from his warmth. A sense of
loss consumed her. She ignored his question and faced the
young lady tending bar. "A gin and tonic, please." She
fumbled in her handbag for money, but Blue Eyes threw a
twenty onto the counter.
"Keep the change," he said.
Erin extended her hand to reach for the bill before the
bartender took it, but Blue Eyes covered her hand with his.
"Please, let us."
"But I don't even know you."
"You will, as soon as you tell us your name."
Erin's heart sped up at the man's gorgeous smile. He was
blond and perfect, and the warmth from his hand on hers
spread to every cell in her body.
"I'm Landon Kay," he said in his purring tone, "and this is
my...friend, Nick Foster."
She turned and gazed into Nick's dark eyes.
"Pleasure," he said and reached for her other hand. He
drew it to his full lips and brushed them lightly across her
fingertips. Perfect again, only Nick was dark where Landon
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was fair. Two incredibly perfect males. Two incredibly perfect
bodies, both pressed against hers. Her blood sizzled in her
veins.
Nick dropped her hand and traced one warm finger across
her cheek. A low hum resonated. His voice, just like Landon's.
A purr. "Tell us your name, honey."
"Erin," she said without meaning to. "Erin Monroe."
"Mmm." From behind, Landon purred into her neck.
Shivers raced through her and landed between her legs.
Erin wasn't sure how she ended up in their cabin. She'd
left her drink sitting on the bar, so she couldn't blame the
alcohol. Hell, one drink wouldn't have impaired her judgment
anyway.
Both men rubbed up against her, Nick in front, Landon
behind, their bodies hard and ready. She should be
frightened. Freaked. Scared shitless.
She wasn't.
"You're beautiful." Landon pulled the band holding her
brown hair in a ponytail and let her tresses sift through his
fingers. "Like silk," he said. "Mahogany silk." He inhaled.
"Apples. Tart apples."
Nick smoothed the strap of her tank top off her shoulder
and dropped a light kiss onto her bare skin. The soft whisper
of his lips made her quiver.
"Apples," he echoed. "You sure it's her hair, Lan?" His lips
curved against her flesh.
Fresh juice gushed between her thighs. Her panties would
be soaked by now. What was she doing here with not one,
but two men? Two
strange
men?
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"No." Landon brushed his lips against Erin's cheek. "I
wasn't talking about her hair." He kissed her nose, her other
cheek. "I was talking about her sweet juicy cunt."
Her breath caught. The c-word. Instead of horrifying her...
Was that more moisture dripping down her thigh? "What am I
doing here?"
"Oh, honey," Nick said. "You're doing what you were put
on earth to do."
"And that is?" Her voice cracked.
"Make love to us." Nick's hand slid up her waist and
cupped one breast. He groaned. "Both of us."
"You can't mean..."
"Oh, yes we can." Landon cupped the other breast. "And
we do."
"But shouldn't we..." What had she meant to say?
"Get to know each other?" Landon chuckled into her hair.
"We will, don't you worry."
Erin fell limp between their two beautiful bodies. How had
Landon known what she meant? She looked into his sparkling
azure eyes. Though tall herself, these men dwarfed her, both
six-four at least. She stood numb, aching to touch them, to
sift her fingers through Nick's dark locks, Landon's blond
waves. Nick's broad and beefy shoulders beckoned. The
golden curls peeking from the vee of Landon's T-shirt begged
to be caressed.
"Go ahead," Landon said, reading her mind again.
"Yes," Nick purred. "Touch us. We like to be touched."
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"Especially by a beautiful woman." Landon thrust into her,
his erection apparent against her side. "The most beautiful
woman we've ever seen."
The most beautiful woman
we've
ever seen. They talked as
one. Strange.
And strangely arousing.
Emotion, thick and heady, coursed through her. Her body
was ready, no doubt, but her mind? Her heart? Why did this
seem so normal? So right?
Shaking, she reached upward and cupped Nick's chiseled
cheek. His smile warmed her, his stubble scraped her palm.
"Your eyes are the color of pine trees in the moonlight."
Erin's nipples tightened. Her eyes were a dull greenish
gray. Nick made them sound glorious.
But glorious they were not. Her heart thudded to her
stomach. This had to stop. Now. No way was she going to
have a threesome with two strangers, no matter how wet she
was for them. She opened her mouth to say as much, but
Nick's lips covered hers.
The kiss was crushing, almost violent. He ate at her lips,
bit them, sucked them, and then sank his tongue between
them and devoured her mouth. His erection throbbed against
her belly, and another, Landon's, forced into her back. Tiny
nibbles trailed over the sensitive skin of her neck. Landon.
The throaty rumbles of their groans vibrated around her.
These primal men wanted her. Why? She hadn't a clue, but
at this moment, with her nipples straining and her pussy
pulsing, she couldn't bring herself to care. Mini-retreat be