“Sure.”
“Where’s your loofah?”
“My what?”
“Sponge? What do you clean yourself with in here?”
“Soap.”
Skipper smiled. She had never used a loofah before she met Sabrina and felt they were entirely useless too. “You ever try a pumice stone?”
“No.”
When Jackson began to scrub his big hands down her back over her raised but unreleased wings, she lost her train of thought. His touch felt good. Sabrina may have had some strange and annoying behaviors she had to mimic, but she was right about this—keeping her wings up at the surface felt good.
“That feels nice, Jackson.”
So fiendishly sensitive like this. Pleasure… You water fairies and your constant pursuit of pleasure.
“The tattoo—your wings, they look kinda blurry.”
Skipper swallowed hard. With all that was happening, she must have forgotten. She had to concentrate more, not only to keep them in place, but also to match Sabrina’s design. It was a difficult task; she’d have rather had them out, but that was an entirely different concern altogether.
“I-it’s all that greasy makeup,” she said, spinning the lie quickly. “I put like three coats on.”
“Oh, yeah.”
“You’re gonna have to scrub harder, babe.”
He did as she said and the chills it sent through her body made her jump. But it was not the arousal inside her body that made her want more—it was his arousal outside it.
His growing cock bobbed against her buttocks, and Skipper turned slowly, reached out, and took it in her hand. “I would’ve offered you help with this, but it looks like you don’t need any.”
“Sabrina…I thought I’d never see you again…let alone…”
“Fuck me?” she said as she stroked his shaft.
“Yeah.”
Skipper suddenly remembered one of Sabrina’s stories and used it. “Well, I’m just glad you accepted this invitation. Last time I asked you to join me in the shower you declined.”
“I was a fool.”
“Still are,” she whispered over his lips.
“Turn around. Release your wings. I want to see them while we do it.”
Skipper tensed up a second. Her ability to mimic Sabrina’s tattoo was good, but to match the actual wing span of a queen of the elemental kingdom—there were only so many things Skipper could fake.
She looked him in the eye again—he had no idea she wasn’t who she claimed to be. This would be the final test.
“You sure you’re ready for this?” she asked him, but the question was more for herself.
Jackson grasped her waist again and gently turned her around. She placed her hands on the shower wall and looked over her shoulder at him as he entered her.
He looks like he’s in heaven, even happier now than when we were having sex at the club earlier. Is this… But the sensation of him pushing farther inside of her erased her thoughts.
“Slow at first, okay?”
“You all right?” He stopped and asked, “Did I hurt you earlier?”
“No. Not hurt…just…tender. Anyway, it’s slippery in here. I don’t want to fall.”
“Don’t worry, Sabrina. I got you.”
His words were so kind and caring, it was as if Skipper could feel them wrapping around her. She had only ever dreamt of such kindness in her life.
“I know you do, Jacks.”
When he started thrusting into her, she hoped he would forget all about her wings. But his hands left their tight grip on her waist and began to trace at the lines of her tattoo. Maybe if I can get him to come quickly…
But no sooner did she have the thought than she began to feel her back tingle. Wait, something’s wrong.
“Shit! My wings are gonna pop!”
ZZZAP!
With a bright flash of light and an intense wave of heat, her wings unfurled.
“My God, Sabrina.”
She was afraid to look over her shoulder at him; she was afraid to even have her eyes open. “Sorry, I couldn’t control them.” Moment of truth…
“Did you shut the water off?”
“What?”
“The water… Whoa…” Jackson held still. “Your wings…”
When he didn’t finish his statement, Skipper opened her eyes and hesitantly looked back at him. Her wings were out and their placement, along with the heat they generated, had evaporated the shower spray and created a sauna effect.
She watched Jackson reach out for one. Sabrina had warned her he might try and touch them; apparently, most of her past lovers had liked to tug at them during sex. But Fire Fairy wings were different than Water Fairy wings—much hotter.
“Careful, Jackson, they’ll burn you.”
“They didn’t burn me before.”
Skipper knew she had to distract him. He was scrutinizing them too closely. “Hey! Why’d you stop? That felt really fucking good. You here to fuck me or play with my wings?”
“I thought I’d do both.”
Skipper straightened up and turned around, making sure to bounce a bit as she moved. “But then you’ll miss these.” Once she faced him, she stood up on her tiptoes again and pressed her body into his.
“You’re so fucking warm.”
“A hot shower with a hot man can do that to a girl.”
Even she could not deny how yummy the skin-to-skin contact felt. Jackson was warm too, and his muscled chest and stomach made her nipples rock hard.
“I bet this is warm too.”
She slowly lowered herself, sliding her breasts over his penis until she rested comfortably in a squat and he pressed atop her lips.
“I think I remember you saying you wanted to come—”
“Not yet.”
He reached down, grasped her by her armpits, and lifted her back up before he pressed her to the shower wall, her wings scorching the tile. After a long kiss that made her heart flutter, he rested his forehead against hers.
“I wanted you in my mouth,” she said breathlessly.
“There will be plenty of time for that later,” he answered confidently. “I am never letting you go.”
His hand moved to her thigh and hooked and lifted her leg, so he could reenter her.
This feels good, she thought. This feels really, really good. Skipper moaned and bit at his neck playfully—exactly what Sabrina would have done in the moment.
“Keep going,” she whispered, so turned on she no longer worried about anything—not her wings, not her mission, not her future. “Face to face like this… You’re fucking me so good, Jackson.”
In this position, she could kiss him more, and as his hands continuously worked her breasts, she could withdrawal her wings unnoticed.
Between kisses, she breathed over his lips and touched his handsome face. Sabrina is lucky to have such a good man. Pity…
“I just want to live in this moment forever.”
“Inside me until the moment you die?”
“Yes.”
Skipper’s legs quaked, her body tingled, and her toes gripped the shower floor; she was near orgasm. Jackson’s pace got faster and faster before he erupted suddenly with a loud grunt, spilling on her lower stomach. Both feet on the shower floor, Skipper felt stable but she knew, if she moved, she might wobble and fall over because her legs were so weak.
“That was amazing.” The water washed her clean as Jackson knelt before her, the reason unclear at first. “You okay?”
“You didn’t finish.” With his face leaned into her, he parted her lips with his tongue.
“Damn!” she cried out.
He didn’t have to hook her leg this time—she lifted it herself and planted her foot firmly on the opposite wall. She wanted this.
“Oh shit! Jacks!” Skipper grunted and groaned with delight as he worked his tongue deeper and faster. “Make me come.” She grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled it tight. “Faster.”
Her e
ntire body began to heat up, and she feared her wings would unfurl again if she didn’t find another release soon. Her free hand slid down, her fingers joining his tongue. Damn it…damn it…
Just when she began to doubt it would, it happened.
“Fuck!”
Her leg went weak and draped over his shoulder. Back pressed to the tile, she slid down some.
“I got you,” he said as he braced her weight. “You okay?” He waited until she stopped shaking and then stood and looked her in the eye.
“Yeah, that was intense, Stonewall.” Not sure what was next and feeling a little embarrassed, Skipper avoided his gaze. “I need a few minutes to catch my breath, okay?”
Jackson rinsed himself off a moment and then opened the shower door. “I’ll get something for you to wear. Shout if you need me.”
“Will do,” she said with a little wave.
Will do? Skipper shook her head under the water, which was beginning to get cold.
What the fuck? Why doesn’t Sabrina just have this guy move in with her? He could live in the ruins, the fortress, guy could probably build an awesome shack or something on the beach. Why waste her time tricking him?
“Hey, Sabrina?” Jackson called out from the hallway.
She turned off the water, stepped out of the shower, and wrapped herself in a towel. “Yeah?”
“I was just wondering…is there something wrong with your wings?”
She did not like the sound of that question. “Why?”
“They looked…I don’t know, kinda smaller. Less colorful.”
She gazed around the small bathroom. There was no escape, and she hated being cornered. “So, this is what you say to a girl after she rocks your world? Twice in one night. Thanks, pal.”
“Sorry,” he laughed, his voice farther away now.
Skipper opened the door and peeked out into his apartment. There was a clear line to the front door—she could run if she needed to. But she could not return to Sabrina with any doubt in her mind.
“I’m about to get my period. That’s why I told you not to squeeze too hard.” She pointed to her boobs as she lied. “Oh, and I’m close to shedding. I’m surprised my wings didn’t fall off in the shower. Kinda felt like they might.”
“Oh…that makes sense.” He was in the kitchen now but getting closer.
“Nothing to worry about, Jacks. In a few days, they will be as big and bright as you remember. In fact, bigger now.”
“Bigger? Really?”
“Yeah, now that I’m queen.”
Jackson walked into the bathroom with a robe, tank top, sweatshirt, and pajama bottoms for her to wear. “Here you go.”
Skipper nodded. “Thanks.”
“You hungry?”
“Tired,” she replied. “What time is it?”
“My bedroom’s back here,” Jackson said as he walked into the room at the end of the hall. “After one a.m. Huh…I guess we missed it.”
“Missed what?” Skipper asked as she joined him in the small room that was decorated just like the others: in copious amounts of fairy-themed photography.
Jackson leaned over and kissed her briefly on the lips. “Happy New Year, Sabrina.”
“Oh. Right.” Skipper had totally forgotten. “Happy New Year.” She took a quick inventory of the room—nothing looked dangerous. She had not wanted to stay the night, but she knew Jackson would find it incredibly strange if she tried to leave now.
“Do you have a hair dryer?”
“No,” he said as he climbed into bed and then patted the mattress. “Queen-size bed for the Queen of the Water Fairy Kingdom. You know, I thought you told that Tainted thing it would be a year before you were…um…crowned?”
She dropped her towel. “I lied.”
“Did you?” He smiled. “I didn’t know Sabrina London lied.”
“Oh, Sabrina London lies.” Skipper pulled on the sweatshirt he gave her. “She lies all the time.”
The Mission
“Wake up,” Weston huffed. “Wake up, you idiot.”
Jackson awoke, his head in a fog. Weston was always waking him up in the morning. Jackson had learned to tune the air spirit out some, but Weston was persistent.
“Need to install a snooze function on you, Weston.”
“Same old joke,” he grumbled and then blew cold air across the room, which scattered the bedsheets Jackson lay under. “Joke away, asshole. I thought you’d want to know.”
“Know what?” Jackson rubbed his eyes as he glanced at the empty bed next to him. “Where is she?”
“She left.”
“What? What do you mean she left?”
“You had her and you let her go.”
“I didn’t let her go, Weston.” Jackson sat up. “When did she leave?”
“Two minutes ago.”
Jackson looked around the room for Weston, but he knew he wouldn’t find him. In all the months they had spent together, the air spirit had never once taken shape.
“Where?”
“The south stairs.”
“Then go get her. Stop her. Hell, float her skinny ass all the way back here, I don’t care. Just don’t let her run off.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
Skipper jogged up the stairs. She was confident in the success of her mission. She had fooled Jackson—multiple times. Now, all that was left was to return to the Water Kingdom and suffer a long and boring debriefing. The small comfort was that, afterward, the next stage of the plan would begin, and it was the part she most looked forward to.
“Sabrina!” a voice echoed through the stairwell. “Sabrina!”
Skipper recognized the breathy voice, not because she had heard it before, but because it belonged to an air spirit, and the only air spirit that she had been warned she might encounter was Sabrina’s old bodyguard. Regardless, Weston was the last person Skipper figured would be here with Jackson—mainly because he was thought to be dead.
“Sabrina, wait!”
She was not going to wait. She was only two flights from the roof access door. Once outside, she could signal Dunyasha and then return to her new home.
“Sabrina!” The air spirit sounded more desperate with each call of her name. “Wait!”
Skipper could see the door ahead. Although out of reach, she stretched her hand toward it. Almost there…
“Damn it, Sabrina! Stop.”
Something slowed her. At first, she felt like she was wadding through glue, entirely unaerodynamic.
“What the hell?” She reached down in search of what held her in place. She did not enjoy the sensation of being ensnared in an invisible web. “Get off me.”
Weston formed up slowly beside her. “Sabrina, it’s just me…”
She could see his wispy face as it formed, and it was easy to identify the look of shock that swept over it.
“Weston, let go of me. That’s an order.”
“You…you’re not Sabrina London.”
“Fuck you,” Skipper snapped.
“Who the hell are you?”
“Fucking let me go, Weston.”
“I know Sabrina London,” Weston said. “I know every inch of her.”
When he spoke, she felt the force that halted her movement change and spread out across her body—it groped and invaded her.
“I know her inside and out.”
A push of air blew into her pajama pant leg and up toward her pelvis.
“No!” she shouted. “You don’t get to touch me like that. You don’t get to touch me at all.”
Skipper unfurled her wings, which ignited in flames. There was more than just a fire in her eyes; it was everywhere. Like molten lava, it dripped from her hands. The sweatshirt and pajama pants she wore were instantly reduced to ash, but she did not care.
“Who are you? Why are you pretending to be Sabrina?”
“She told me the stories about how you took advantage of her.”
“I…what? Who are you talking about?”<
br />
“Air spirits. Perverts of the Elemental Kingdom. You will not be missed.”
Skipper flapped her wings, broke loose of his grasp, and pushed him away. He was as fully formed as possible, and the look she saw on his face told her he knew what was coming next.
She snapped her fingers, and two sparks ignited from them, new fires emerging.
“You knew I could do that, didn’t you? The Air Kingdom knows more about us than most others…and with good reason.”
“Fire needs oxygen,” Weston answered.
“And fire consumes oxygen.”
From the sparks grew two large fire elementals, an ungodly mix of man, demon, and jinn.
“Why are you doing this?”
“Because this is my mission,” Skipper said, snapping her fingers again. “Kill him and burn this filthy place down.”
As the first two fire elementals shambled forward, they left trails of scorch marks in their wake and another two rose from the burning carpet in the stairwell.
Weston surged forward and Skipper, unsure if it was an attack or his attempt to escape to the open air, pulsed her wings and set everything around her aflame.
The wall of fire she created stopped the air spirit and the elementals she created surrounded him.
“Don’t do this.”
Skipper pulsed her wings again, her elementals growing larger. She could no longer see Weston or hear him over the crackle of flames; the stairwell was a raging inferno now.
“He’s dead,” one of the fire elementals growled.
She counted. “And three of you remain.”
“Three,” they all responded as they faced her.
“This building is your reward. Burn it down. Consume it all. Every little bit.”
The largest of the elementals grimaced at her. “When that’s done, fairy—”
“If you live.”
“We will find you and free ourselves from your bonds.”
“You can try.”
Skipper nodded to them, and as the door behind her burned opened, she flew out backward onto the apartment building’s roof.
“Copycat,” Dunyasha called out to her telepathically the moment she floated out of the fire.
“I didn’t signal.”
“Then what do you call this?’” Dunyasha pointed to the plumes of smoke that rose from the building. “We should go.”
Three Burning Red Runaway Brides Page 2