Away with the Faeries (Get Your Rocks Off Book 1)

by Sam Hall

  “Look, I—” I started to say.

  “I have—”

  We both laughed again. Godddd, this was so fucking awkward. I should just let him talk and be all ‘after you,’ but I didn’t have the energy to play those games.

  “Thanks for helping me yesterday. You shouldn’t have had to.”

  “I was glad to,” he said, a faint smile on his lips as those big hands encircled the mug. “I’ve seen them often enough in my mum. I know how scary they can be.”

  “Your mum? She had—”

  “Migraines, visual disturbances. They just got worse until she took some medication and slept them off for a few hours. It’s how she came across this.” He pulled a small Ziploc bag from his jacket, passing it over to me. “Old name is ‘elvesbane,’ but it’s basically from the feverfew family. Always worked for her, so I found some to pass on to you.”

  “That’s…” Hot, weird, considerate, sweet, kinda invasive, or all of the above—I wasn’t totally sure. He seemed to sense that, looking away and taking a sip from his cup. I watched helplessly as those lips covered the rim, saw the muscles in his stubbled jaw flex as he took a sip. When he finished, those pale grey eyes darted to me, looking me over speculatively, no doubt waiting for me to finish my sentence. “Considerate,” I went with belatedly. “That was really considerate.”

  “And how do you feel today?”

  His voice was deep and somehow soothing, despite the antsy feeling that niggled at me.

  “Really good. It’s like everything’s super clear. As if I can see every detail.” I met his eyes and was caught by them. I was going to say more, about the lack of brain fog and squiggles and that my sight was almost as clear as my lens, but I just stared. At the dramatic plane of his cheekbones, the stubble softening the harsh bone structure somewhat. At those full lips pursing, his tongue flicking out to swipe away the remnants of his coffee. And at those eyes, not quite so hard now. They bore into mine like he sought some kind of answer in their depths, and he only dropped them to glance at where my mouth met the coffee cup before flicking up again.

  Fuck, I thought, am I into Mark?

  It’d been something Jen had tried to instigate many a time, more due to Mark’s proximity than anything else. He was always hanging around her, and trying to hook me up with someone was a personal mission of hers, so there he was. I’d talked to her many a time about it, since I felt like it was kinda unfair to put a guy who may well have a girlfriend or wife at home in this position while on the clock.

  But he was always on the clock, wasn’t he? Like, I didn’t see him twenty-four hours a day obviously, but he was constantly at the estate and guarding Jen. He smiled as I regarded him over the rim of my cup, alerting me to the fact I was staring. I glanced away, forcing myself to look at the hand-crocheted tablecloth Nan had made for me, but when my eyes flicked up again, I caught him staring just the same.

  More to the point, is he into me?

  I swallowed, something that had nothing to do with the coffee I was holding. My heart pounded in my ears, and I couldn’t look away, not for love or money. That idea, that completely foreign idea, that a guy that looked like him, that had the body he had, might sit in my kitchen and stare at me as if I was at least mildly interesting…

  I blinked, wanting to dismiss that thought out of hand. That was not my life. If I was lucky, I’d find a local guy who could look past the destiny my grandmother presented to the rest of the world and have a couple of kids. This, all that someone like Mark represented, was not for the likes of me.

  Get a grip, you twit, I thought. He probably just wants to bone you.

  Well, if I thought that was reassuring, I was very, very wrong. A hot sensation of the like I’d never felt before flushed through me. Like dropping into a hot bath when you’re cold or that first sip of coffee. Except the normal rolling feel of warmth spreading through my body was replaced with something a lot more…stimulating.

  My libido was normally kept locked up and only allowed to come out and play when night had fallen and I was snuggled up in my bed, some choice man-on-man action playing on my phone and my battery-operated boyfriend released from the bottom drawer of my bedside table. But right now, it roared into life. I fought the urge to stiffen as it felt like my nipples went from ‘hey, just hanging here on the end of your boobs’ to ‘OMG, fucking tweak me now.’ I shifted my elbows to hopefully block that sight from the bodyguard, but instead, that just seemed to draw his attention. My thighs slammed together. Why? To hold back the rollicking wave of pussy juice that it felt like leaked from my core. At least he couldn’t see that, though perhaps all of this discomfort was reflected on my face, as his eyes jerked back up. His mouth fell open, his chest filling, as if he was about to say something, anything, but the moment stretched on and on and on, until I was about ready to leap across the table and press my lips to his. I watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, finding every damn thing about his mouth absolutely fascinating. I had a full technicolour, 3D, feel-o-vision mental image playing in my mind of just how it would feel to nip at them, suck the full bottom lip into my mouth and bite down a little before releasing it, capture that small opening between them as he fought to rally, and slide my tongue right inside…

  “Kira, love, you home?”

  We both jolted in our seats, something that had Mark smiling ruefully.

  “In here, Nan,” I said, glad whatever the hell that little moment was had finished, while also feeling its loss.

  The door opened, and Nan entered, taking us in, then a smile spread across her face. Cool, we were going to have a visit from nice, hopefully lucid Nana today.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t realise you had a young man visiting,” she said, then she turned to Mark, holding out her hand. “Bridget Clay,” she told him. Mark getting to his feet to take it seemed to please her, as her cheeks flushed with pleasure before her gaze sharpened. She looked him over like a farmer would a cow on market day, inspecting him with an intensity I’d never let myself use, but I think we were all relieved when her smile widened.

  “Mark Sullivan,” he said, and shook her hand.

  “Tall,” she said, with an approving nod. “Strong. Keep this one, Kira girl.”

  “Nan…” I said.

  “I work for the Rutherglen’s up on the estate, looking after Miss Rutherglen,” he said, coming to my rescue.

  Nan’s face screwed up at that, but not for long. “But you’re not like those nasty things up there.” She twisted his hand until it was palm up and peered at the lines there, stroking a finger across one then another before stilling abruptly. As if she sensed how weird she was being, she dropped it completely before stepping back. “My apologies,” she said, sketching a quick curtsey, her head bowed down.

  “No matter, my lady,” Mark replied.

  “What are you doing, Kira, serving a man coffee without something to soften the blow? You should have some of those coconut and raisin biscuits I just made somewhere.”

  “Oh, you needn’t…” Mark started to say, but Nan bustled about in my kitchen, opening cupboards at random.

  “Nan, I’m going away for a job. I’ll…” How did I explain to a woman with a fairly loose idea of time that I wouldn’t be home for a while? “I’ll be gone for some time.”

  “Gone?” She spun to face me. “Gone where? Not with that flibbertigibbet you insist on palling around with! I told your father!”

  “Miss Leigh has a job with my employer,” Mark said, his deep voice seeming to calm her.

  “With the Rutherglen?” He nodded as she frowned. “And you’ll be there with her?” He nodded again. “Hmph, well, don’t keep the man waiting, girl. Get what you need, and I’ll send some supplies along to take with you. I’ll give them to the watcher here for safekeeping.”

  “Right,” I said, eyeing the two of them. Mark seemed calm and unfazed by Nan’s antics and insistence on labelling him as a ‘watcher,’ whatever that meant. No matter, it gave me the opportun
ity to exit stage left, and I took it. I walked inside my room and threw myself on the bed, just breathing in the familiar scents and letting that orientate myself for a bit.

  What the hell, I thought. What the freaking hell?

  I was lucky I’d bought a suitcase a while ago. It was for one of the first trips Jen and I planned before Dad had nixed it. I dumped my entire underwear drawer into it, then a bunch of jeans and shirts and jumpers. Someone like Marlow would likely have a fit, but I didn’t care. I’d read the reports in music magazines. Travelling across multiple countries by bus would be brutal. If I was going to give it a go, I was taking stuff I could survive in.

  Which meant my meds needed to be packed, as well as some massage balls and other things that helped prevent muscular impingements on the nerves in my skull. Toiletries, perfume…my pillow? How much stuff did I need to take? Sheets, towels? I put one of each in and a whole bunch more stuff, and then looked at my suitcase in despair. I had to sit on it to get it closed. I scratched at my head, realising I’d have to get Mark to help me carry the bloody thing, and my nail caught in my ratty hair.

  Fuck! I realised as they snagged on the strands. I’d been sitting there, making moony, horny eyes at Mark in all his well turned out glory, while I had bedhead and morning breath. I rubbed the heels of my palms into my sockets.

  You fucking dickhead, I thought as I grabbed a towel and marched into my en suite. You fucking stupid dickhead. I kept that up as I stripped off and caught a quick glimpse of a fairly trashed looking me in the mirror, before jumping into the shower with some enthusiasm, wanting to wash all of it away. That’s how you looked when you signed with The Changelings, my brain helpfully supplied as I rubbed soap all over my torso. I skimmed over the tight buds of my nipples, the resulting jolt something that just brought on another wave of self-criticism.

  But as my hands slipped lower, my clit throbbing traitorously, and I knew she’d liked what had gone on in the last two days very much, irrespective of how I felt about it. The bar slid to a stop, the feel of the cool tiles under the other hand, the beat of the hot water, the steam swirling around me—all pulling me right back to the here and now. I heard the muffled sound of Nan and Mark’s voices, and a sneaky, low part of myself wanted to muffle that mouth in a whole other way. A quick vision of him assaulted me—naked and beneath me, hands reaching out to draw an equally naked me down onto his face, his stubble the first thing I feel on the skin of my thighs, then that mobile, slick, pressure of his…

  I gasped into the tiles, and the bar of soap fell from my fingers as they delved between my folds. The water ran down my back, sluicing everything away as they began to work.

  My body flared to life, my nipples pulling even tighter, a thick band of pleasure writhing inside me, my cunt clenching down on the frustrating emptiness. No matter, I’d had to bear that plenty of times before, my fingers just moved faster and faster as I raced towards my finish. The sound of Mark’s voice broke off as I gasped, my pants coming quicker. I imagined him pausing whatever weird arse conversation I’d relegated him to, coming in here and catching the sound of my gasps with some kind of preternatural hearing. I imagined that large lump I’d seen hinted at under that kilt throbbing and thickening, while he’d have to fidget and readjust as Nan blathered on, wanting to strip his suit off and break down the door to join me in here.

  What would he do? My mind became preoccupied with that scenario, and initially, I was only able to replay that momentary glimpse I’d gotten of that bare chest, rippling with muscles. Would he have used them to shove my hands up on the tiles, pulling my hips to butt up against his, grinding that rigid length into me when I wiggled, the moisture from the shower, from between my legs, leaking all over him and easing his passage?

  “Stay,” he’d rumble, both hands roaming my body, while I trembled as I fought the urge to direct them exactly where I wanted them. And then those fingers would close around my nipples. He’d grin into the back of my neck, his lips and teeth grazing the surface as I’d begin to groan in earnest, the feel of each tug ricocheting through my body to finally draw upon my clit, as sure as his lips would later.

  “Mark,” I moaned. “I need—”

  “I’ve got what you need,” he’d reply, kicking my ankles wide.

  My feet would slip temporarily on the wet tile, but his grip on me would stop me from going far. His hands would slide between my legs, a low chuckle coming from him as he felt me all wet and soapy. He wouldn’t mess around, spearing two fingers inside me and curling up to rub against the front wall of my cunt.

  “Come for me,” he’d say. “Come on my fucking hand, and I’ll bury myself so damn deep inside you.” His other hand would slip to my clit, moving as my hand did, rubbing that aching nub back and forth more and more rapidly. “Come, Kira.”

  I fucking did, in real life, and my eyes snapped wide as I realised what I was doing. I blinked as the pleasure rolled through me, wave after wave, forcing moans through my lips. Fuck, how loud was I being? My ears pricked up as I rode the last few twitches of the orgasm out, my teeth clamping down on my lips to hold back any more sounds.

  A thump on my bedroom door had me jumping where I stood.

  “Hurry up, Kira. You have guests,” Nan said.

  How did you talk to someone you’d just rubbed a cheeky orgasm out to? I was about to find out. I’d brushed my hair and my teeth, and put some clothes and deodorant on, so I was a lot more human looking by the time I emerged. Nan and Mark were sitting at the table like a couple of old friends, their eyes going to me as I walked out.

  “Feeling better, love? Nothing like a wash to put yourself right,” Nan said.

  “Ah, yeah,” I replied, and my request died on my lips as Mark’s eyes raked down my body, taking in the old band shirt and holey jeans like they were couture. Right, that was on the table then. Fuck. He might just be having a perv, have a girlfriend or something, but unless he was looking for tips on how to dress down on his time off, he was checking me out. An intense aftershock of pleasure stabbed through me, something that had my steps slowing, but hopefully, there was no other sign. “Mark, I think I’ve over-packed. Would you be cool with helping me carry this bag out to the car?”

  “Of course,” he said, immediately getting to his feet, and my eyes trailed down that body in much the same way he’d done me. Were his pants a little more snug than normal in the crotch area? I dragged my eyes away when I saw something shift there.

  Get it together, girl, I told myself. We’re going to be sharing a bus for six months!

  If I thought shit was thrumming with an awkward sexual energy, leading the man I’d just jerked off to, into my bedroom was next level. I wandered in initially, not really thinking too much about it, until I turned around and saw him in the doorway, taking in my room with a deep breath.

  “Ah, just this one,” I said.

  “Of course,” he said with a slight shake of his head as he walked in to take a hold of the handle.

  Whoa, his big body dominated the small room in a way that wasn’t as obvious in the open plan living area. My eyes went to the bed, wondering how much of that he’d take up, and when I looked up, he was staring at the same place. “I’ll take this to the car,” he said belatedly.

  “I’ll grab my computer and gear, and then we can get on the road,” I said, struggling to keep my tone light and professional. Yeah, the time for office etiquette was probably over when you masturbated in the shower to fantasies of a co-worker getting you off.

  “I like him,” Nan said after he’d walked outside. “Stick close to that one when you go out into the world. Ones such as us always work best with a sentinel.”

  “Uh huh,” I said as I started collecting my MacBook and tablet, disconnecting cables, then packing chargers and spare batteries.

  “He’s big and strong. Probably all over.”

  “Nan!” I looked up at her. Dammit, now I had that mental image going as well. “You a bit keen on Jen’s bodyguard? I can put i
n a good word.”

  “Not for me, love. My time was over when my Clancy went. But you, Kira. This is your time, with a man like that by your side.”

  “He’ll be by all our sides, I’m sure. He’s Jen’s bodyguard, Nan. It’s his job.”

  “No, not that one. There’s more to him than that.” She just looked at me with a radiant smile. “There’s so much to discover.”

  “I haven’t gone beyond Gisbourne since I was a kid, so I’m sure there is, but I’ll be back.”

  I picked up my bag and slung it across my chest, then fished the camera out on a whim. “How about a quick photo before I go?”

  I didn’t compose the shot, just snapped it like any other family photo, but I caught the moment my grandmother’s face transformed as I looked down the lens and clicked. Horror, plain and simple, shone from her eyes as her mouth dropped open into a soundless scream before finally mobilising.

  “What did you bring into this house?!” she screeched, her hands turning to claws as she launched herself at me. “What kind of devilry is this? You brought something tainted by them onto this property?”

  “Nan!” I yelped as she tried her damnedest to wrench the new camera from my fingers, her nails raking down my arms when I held her off. “Nan! What the hell is wrong with you?”

  I didn’t get to find out. Mark strode inside, his hand slicing down between us and pushing my grandmother calmly but persistently away and then shielding me with the wall of his body.

  “Mrs. Clay,” he said when she started to scream and grab at us again. “Mrs. Clay!”

  His voice sounded like the crack of a whip, and a silence fell over the room in response. I peeked out from behind his back to find her standing in the middle of the kitchen, tears streaming down her face. The scratches she’d left on my arm itched as a thin trickle of blood crawled down. Then I heard her sobs.