Scarlet Waterfalls

Copyright 2019 Dee Garcia


*Please note that the events of this scene follow the previous outtake featuring Hook and Tink titled “The Lore.” You don’t have to read it to understand what’s happening, but you may want to. ;)


Tremble - Nicole Millar

An hour later...

Those bastards didn’t make it out alive.

While I both relished and indulged the Fae, completely bypassing the bloodlust of immortality in the process, my slightly intoxicated Captain handled the rest. He left two drained, and the other with his head hanging by a thread. Not quite as brutal as Peter, but still…whoever finds them is sure to remember that image until they take their last breath.

What can I say? We warned them, right?

Not my fault they mistook us for a pair of fools.

With their bodies left strewn in the alcove, Hook and I made our way back to the spooktacular festivities. The party looked as though it were really just getting started, but we had no intention to stay for much longer. Another dance or two, then Callan was grabbing a bottle of whiskey from the newly replenished stash, and then we took off for the hotel.

Which brings us to now...

Judging by our current state, you’d think this is the first time the man ever got his hands on me. Frantic touches, relentless mouths, he rams me into the door of our room, keeping me upright with the weight of his body as he rummages through his pockets for the entry card.

“Don’t drop the bottle,” he reminds me. “I intend to lick that off your body.”

A strangled moan is the extent of my reply. All he had to say was lick and my entire core clenched at the thought of it, visions of that night on the dining room table slamming into me like the tsunami of an orgasm undoubtedly awaiting me.

Callan hums appreciatively. I’m not sure if it’s in response to the moan he just swallowed or the fact he’s found the key. Without a word, he jams it in the slot, all but throttles us through the door, and sends me flying onto the bed. The bottle slips from my grip on impact and rolls to end of the bed, wedging safely between the mattress and the footboard.

“Close call,” he chuckles, stalking toward me with that predatory look in his eyes.

Chest heaving from his assault, a salacious smile spreads across my face. “Very.”

Said bottle goes forgotten, though. He doesn’t reach for it and neither do I. He just stands there at the end of the bed, devouring me in a heated once-over.

The aftermath of that stare? God, it crawls up from the tips of my toes and settles at space between my thighs, pulsing in time with my heart beat.

Scratch that, it’s not even a simple pulsing.

My clit throbs, luring a mewl from the back of my throat as the ache continues to spread. Eyes clamping shut, my hands fly to my thighs for some sort of purchase, nails digging restlessly into the leather of my pants.

This is what he does to me. Obliterates anything that isn’t him in seconds flat and just...tantalizes me. Consumes me. Makes me crave him to a maddening degree.

“I don’t even know where to start with you,” he muses, adamant hands ripping my legs apart, yanking me toward him just slightly. “How about this tempting little outfit of yours? I’ll be happy to see it go.”

I’m barely listening, caught up in the anticipation, but manage to ask, “Why?”

“Because it’s turned one too many heads tonight. The way it makes you look...” A playful scoff and a soft shake of his head follows as he lowers himself over me, and buries his face in the crook of my neck.

“And what exactly is that?”

That wolfish grin of his spreads against my skin. “Like sin, baby. Pure-fucking-sin.”

“That would be your fault, remember?” I counter, nails raking up his back. “Besides, you’ve made it clear you have quite the thing for the new me.”

“Oh, I do, I love it,” he coos. “Loved you in those wispy, frilly dresses, too, but immortalized Tinksley, oof,” the tips of his fangs graze the curve of my neck, “killer. And that’s the problem; every bastard who looks at you sees sex appeal. You’re a mouth-watering little morsel they all want a piece of.”

“And yet, all I want is you, so who gives a fuck?” I toss back, locking my arms around his neck. “Now tell me, is it the leather that does it for you, Captain?”

A deliciously dark laugh vibrates against me. “Mmm, maybe. Know what definitely does it, though?”


“Bare Tinksley.” He doesn’t just say it, he growls it, pulling me closer, inhaling me deeply. “Completely bare, at my mercy.”

“We can make that happen,” I breathe.

“Oh, it’s happening,” he chuckles again, slowly reaching out for the bottle. “Like I said, I have every intention of pouring this on your body and licking my way to your delectable cunt.”

Fuck. Me…

My core clenches tighter as that image plays in a vivid reel. “Let’s get in the bath,” I blurt, quirking his brow curiously.


“‘Cause you’re about to make a mess, that’s why. Easy clean up.” My lips curl in a smirk, more still when he gives me this impressed yet equally impish look.

“Are you saying I’m messy?” he questions.

Nodding surely, I urge him off of me with a firm shove at his chest. “Definitely. Now go get in the bath, Captain,” I whisper, fingers deftly undoing the buttons of his shirt. “And that’s an order.”

Once the last button comes undone, he shrugs the dark material off his shoulders and steals me off the bed, locking my legs around his waist. “Demanding little thing you’ve become,” he purrs.

“Damn right. Impatient, too.” I lean into him, lips hovering over his. “Bath, now, Cap.”

His expression darkens wickedly. “You’re so royally fucked right now, my little pixie.”

“Mmm,” I grin, “just the way I like it.”


Setting Tinksley down on the cold tiled floor of the bathroom, I draw the bath water and quickly admire our new surroundings.



The tub is an enormous marble sphere, floor to ceiling mirrors lining most of the perimeter around it. I catch her stare in one of them, bottom lip caught sensuously between her teeth.

Spinning around to face her, I take the whiskey bottle from her possession and place it on the thick edge of the tub, pulling her into me. “Clothes off, baby girl.”

“Same goes for you, Captain,” she counters, fingers working the hooks of her corset. “Get naked.”

Doesn’t take me nearly as long.

By the time she unhooks the last prong and allows the forming material to fall at her feet, I’m already dropping into the hot water with the bottle firmly lodged in my grip. “Keep going,” I urge her, pulling a long sip as I take her in.

Her pretty little nipples pucker almost instantly. Could be from my piercing stare or the cool temperature carrying through the suite, but either way, my cock kicks between my legs at the sight of them, rising further and further at attention as she shimmies the leather down her silky, ivory legs.

Moments later, she’s joining me in the water. Climbing into my lap. Taking the bottle for a long sip of her own. All the while, those tropical irises never break my hold.

“Easy there, love,” I warn, but she eases back unaffected, breathing through the burn rolling down her throat.

I’m expecting her to pass it back thereafter.

Expecting being the keyword—but oh how far off I was…

The little minx has me rock hard in seconds. That sinister grin I’ve come to love splits across her lips, and then, then she tilts the bottle at just the right angle, allowing its contents to spill on her chest. Amber rivulets drip down her tits, a bead or two accumulating at the rigid peaks of her nipples.

My mouth waters, tongue lashing out to wet my lips in anticipation. Most of the whiskey has already made it into the water, but I go in like a man starved, lifting her enough to lap up what remains of the trail glistening down her torso. At the valley of her breasts, I veer off to one globe, pulling a drenched nipple between my teeth.




Above me, Tinskley hisses and thrusts a hand into my hair, holding me in place as her head lolls back.

Grinning against her, I move to the other side and repeat, a wandering hand sliding between her legs from the back. The pad of my middle finger skims through her heat, drawing another harsh hiss between her teeth.


Mmm, shit is right, baby, ” I plunge the digit inside her, “so wet for me already.”

“Not already. I’m always wet for you,” she counters, dropping her heavy-lidded gaze on me as she tilts the bottle once more, unleashing an