by Sarra Cannon
“A couple of you guys need to be minding the guards,” Simone said.
“Right. So that’ll take two out of the room. That leaves six of us.”
“Two in each bed and two on the floor. Pretty sure the fire marshal won’t like it, but what he doesn’t know won’t kill him.”
“We’ll just play it by ear,” Caryn said. “We’ve slept in close enough quarters before that if we end up mixing guys and girls in one room, no one will bat an eyelash, but shit, you guys are smelly in aggregation.”
“We’ve showered,” Heath balked.
“Mm-hmm,” Simone said inside. She pressed her cheek against his chest and grabbed the back of his waistband, pulling his body even tighter against hers. He didn’t know how much more torture his dick would be able to take, and the sad thing was most of that torture was of his own making. She’d offered her body to him repeatedly. He’d refused like a frightened virgin, and he most certainly wasn’t that.
“See. Simone doesn’t mind.”
“Simone’s sleeping on a cot in her office,” Simone said. “The rest of you are on your own.”
“We’ll see about that.”
Chapter 21
With an exhalation of relief, Simone turned over the “office closed” sign on the glass door and put her hand on the lock, ready to turn it. Before she could twist her wrist, Heath appeared in the doorway, boots unlaced and hair damp, and pushed the handle.
She got out of the way and let him, and an icy gust, into the office. “What are you doing?”
Thom sidled in behind him, turned the lock, and let down the shades.
Simone pulled her robe closed, which was dumb in the scheme of things because they’d already seen everything she had to offer. Old habits died hard.
“Evens out the room compositions a little. We put two on guard duty, but that still left four in the room. We could have sent Matt or Perry over to the girls’ room, but figured that would be cruel. The girls would taunt them all night.”
“Why?”
“Because they’re the youngest. It’s all in good fun, but certainly cuts down on a man’s ability to rest.”
“And you thought putting three in that tiny closet of a room beyond the desk would be a more restful experience?” It had a perimeter equal to that of a full, maybe queen, mattress. Perhaps it had been functional for an innkeeper’s needs fifty years ago, but Simone had never seen it as being useful for much beyond storing the office Swiffer, comforters, and a few emergency supplies.
“We’ve got our bedrolls,” Thom said, “to add to whatever you’ve got back there. You don’t actually have a cot, do you?”
She canted her head toward the thing folded behind the counter. “Yup.”
Heath clucked his tongue. “More comfortable to just sleep on the floor. Get some blankets.”
She pushed an eyebrow up at him.
“It was a suggestion, love, not an edict.”
“As if he could boss you around,” Thom muttered.
She sighed. “There’s already a pile in there. That’s where I keep the spare linens for the motel.”
“Excellent.” Heath headed into the tiny room and flicked on the light.
Thom crossed his arms and leaned against the counter.
“So, how’d your field trip with the Afótama go?”
He cringed.
“That good, huh?”
“I’m happy to serve Queen Contessa in any capacity I can, but being in the company of my mates without being able to touch them is a special kind of torture.”
“When do you plan on telling them?”
“I honestly don’t know that I will.”
“You can’t possibly mean that, Thom,” Heath said. He shook out a comforter and let it fall atop a pile already on the floor.
Thom grunted. “I’m not seeing where I have much choice, Prince.”
“But they would figure it out eventually, wouldn’t they? Wouldn’t they feel some nagging, incurable compulsion to be around you?” She clasped her hands behind her back and rolled her gaze up to the ceiling, but not before Heath caught it.
He chuckled. “Nagging, is it?”
“It’s likely that they already do,” Thom said, “but they don’t need me complicating things.”
“I never took you as the low self-esteem sort.”
“Given the circumstances, can you blame me?”
“I do.” Heath stepped out and perched on the stool behind the counter. Bending to pull off his boots, he said, “I’ve never known you to run away from a fight.”
“Getting one’s arse kicked is a lot different a thing than having one’s heart trampled upon, Prince.”
“I’m not so concerned with your heart. I think your pride is more the issue.”
“Says the fairy with the functioning prick.”
Heath shrugged. “I’ve had my share of curses. You know that. I shucked them off by meeting the terms. You can do the same.”
“And be humiliated while doing it. That’ll leave a long-lasting stain on my memory, for sure.”
“Why does it have to be humiliating?” Simone watched Heath loosen the few buttons at the top of his raglan shirt and pull his arms through the sleeves. Bare-chested. He was going to sleep bare-chested, and probably tease her to madness yet again. He let his shirt fall to floor on top of his boots and socks, unbuttoned his jeans, and headed back to the little room.
She whistled low and watched him move. The way that man looked in a pair of sagging pants had to be some kind of sin. He had to expect that eventually, she’d just jump him. Knowing what she knew about Sídhe sexuality, she thought he’d probably consider the harsh words she had saved up for him and his damn dick to be foreplay.
“It’s going to be humiliating because they’re not going to look at me like that”—he pointed to her—“after I’ve done it.”
She stared at the floor and kicked a bit of carpet lint. In a whisper, she said, “I look at him like that because I can’t believe he’s mine.”
Thom pushed away from the counter and squeezed her shoulders. “Is it so wrong for me to want that?”
“You assume that you wouldn’t get it. I don’t know what, precisely, you would need to do to meet the terms of your curse. I’m not even sure I want to know, but I’m sorry you’re hurting. I don’t like seeing my friends hurt. If I could fix this for you, I would. All I can do is give you words.”
“Sometimes, words are enough, love.” Heath held his hand out to her.
Simone gave Thom what she hoped was an encouraging smile and went to Heath. She kicked off her slip-on shoes before letting him pull her into the room.
Thom followed them in after checking the door and shutting off the office lamp. He added a few weapons of his own to the little pile in the corner Heath had started—a few knives and a couple of guns—and settled onto the pallet with his back to the opening. His eyes glowed that molten gold in the dark, looking more like fine metal than organs. How could any woman not stare into his eyes and know there was something special about him—something worth exploring? She reached out and gave his nose a tweak.
He chuckled and let his eyelids fall closed.
Heath rolled her, pulled her closer by the waist, and whispered into her ear, “Are you antagonizing my Second?”
She rolled to face him. “Just a little.”
“You enjoy that?”
“Probably more than I should.”
Heath narrowed his eyes so the darkness of his pupils flooded the brighter blue. Another oddly luminescent color, the hue of which reminded her of light behind beautiful stained glass. They seemed to glow in the dark.
“What?” he whispered.
“Your eyes look weird. Well, weirder than usual. Thom’s, too, I think.”
“You haven’t paid much attention to us in the dark, have you?”
She had to admit that she hadn’t.
“Many species of fae evolved from night creatures and spirits. Most of us lived underground until recent hi
story.”
“You’re telling me Sídhe have night-goggle eyes?”
“Mmm. In a way. Just one more tool in a hunter’s arsenal.”
“Pity I don’t have it.”
“Hope you’ll never need it.” He rubbed her arm from shoulder to elbow and skimmed around to her waist, pulling her closer.
Too close to see his face, but just the right distance for her to take in his now-familiar scent of musk and leather. “Heath?”
“Hmm?”
“Have you given any thought to what you would be doing if you weren’t out hunting wayward fairies? If that wasn’t your job, I mean.”
“I don’t know. I’ve never given it much thought, to be honest. Even before I got assigned the job, I knew I was going to get pressed into service somehow, and I spent most of my time training for it.”
“And fucking, probably.”
“There might have been some of that happening. It’s one of the most common forms of Sídhe entertainment.”
“You’re used to your life now? Being on the go all the time, I mean. Never staying in one place very long.”
“Used to it, yes, but that’s not what you’re asking me, is it?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Sure you do.” He slipped his hand under the hem of her shirt and skimmed his palm up her spine. The skin-to-skin contact with his rough palm sent a shiver down her core and settled in at the apex of her thighs. “I’m an energy reader. When yours goes a little bitter, I can tell you’re anxious.”
“I’m not anxious, just…” Just what? Afraid? Terrified that he’d think a sedate life with her wouldn’t be enough? She was bound to the motel and there was no end in sight to her curse—not even a gut feeling assuaging her that something better was coming. There was only Heath, a bright blue beacon in the mist, and given all he’d seen in his long life, how could she possibly be enough for him?
“Just what, Simone?”
“I’m just not very exciting. You must feel like you’ve drawn the short straw as far as fated mates go. You get a mate who’s stuck to a little strip of land on the Atlantic Ocean in probably one of the quietest communities on the planet during the fall and winter. There’s nothing here but sand, water, and fried shrimp buffets.”
“Sounds amazing,” Thom said on a sleepy exhalation.
“You don’t have to placate me, Thom.”
“He’s not placating you, love. You assume that because we’re good at what we do that we wouldn’t choose something else if we had the chance?”
“What would you choose?”
“I told you, I choose you, and everything that comes with you. Fortunately, those are all things I want. There’s nothing wrong with a little quiet, Princess. There’s nothing wrong with letting life happen to you every now and then instead of diving into it headfirst. And don’t mistake it. You’re plenty exciting.” He rocked his hips, insinuating his rock hard erection against her thigh as if to drive home the point. “I’m very good at finding fun when I want to. Don’t worry about me getting bored.”
He tipped her head back and she looked up at his face. Before she realized what she was doing, she caught his pouty bottom lip between her teeth and gave it a little tug.
He cupped the back of her head and increased the pressure of the kiss, darting his skillful tongue into her mouth while dragging his fingers through her tangled ponytail.
She arched into him, desperate for his body and refusing be left unfulfilled again. “Heath?”
“Hmm?” He hardly paused his kissing. He sipped at her mouth as if it were some meal he planned to long savor instead of devour outright.
“Don’t tease me.”
“I didn’t think I was.” He tucked his hands under her ass and ground his crotch against her core when she slung her leg over his hip.
“You always do.”
“Not teasing so much as tempting.”
“Lack of temptation has never been a problem.”
“No, your affection was.”
Oh. She flipped him onto his back, straddled his belly, and placed her hands on his cheeks. Those ethereal eyes flashed with each blink, spotlighted his skepticism when he narrowed them. “I’m not a tease either, Heath.” She bent and kissed him.
He gripped the bottom of her shirt and nudged it up. “You said you wanted to be courted.”
She peeled off her shirt and tossed it toward the corner along with the bra he loosened immediately afterward. “Maybe I’ve changed my idea of what that means.”
He pulled her down, drawing one puckered nipple into her mouth while swatting at the elastic waistband of her pajama pants.
Miracle of miracles, she’d actually shaved. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a boyfriend during winter necessitating doing such, but she hoped Heath appreciated the gesture. She only shaved for keepers.
She sat up and moved her legs enough for him to push down her pants and panties along with them. Vaguely, she registered Thom at the door sitting up, but was surprisingly unbothered by his presence. Perhaps it was her Sídhe practicality, or just knowing that he’d seen it all before and in the light.
“Am I the only one undressing?” she whispered to Heath.
He rolled her onto his back and squirmed out of his jeans. He was going commando, as always, and even in the low light she could see how hard he was—how ready. She couldn’t resist bending to get a taste of him, finally. She dragged her tongue around the satiny head and pulled him into her mouth.
His hips bucked on his gasp and he immediately took her cheeks in hand, pulling himself out of her. “I don’t want to come in your mouth.”
“I think your endurance is a little better than that. I want to finish.” She freed herself from his hold and took his thick shaft between her lips again.
He hissed and pulled back out, bumping his ridge against her teeth’s edges as he extracted. “Gods. My endurance is usually impeccable, but you can’t predict what’ll happen when sex and magic muddle. I’m less concerned with blowing my load than blowing the eaves off this place.” He settled her onto her back and nudged her thighs apart.
“You’re exaggerating.”
“Let’s hope so.” He crawled between her knees and wrapped her legs around his waist. “I’m sorry this first time wasn’t in much more lush circumstances. We could still wait.”
“This’ll be memorable.”
“I like your optimism, Princess.” He settled down against her, pushing the blunt head of his cock against her entrance and bussing his lips across her cheeks, her jaw.
“Do you want me to step out?” Thom asked.
Heath looked down at her.
“I don’t mind.”
“With her only being half, it may not be a problem,” Thom said. “You might not need me.”
“What might not be a problem?”
“Nothing to worry about.” Heath reached between them and pressed himself against her opening.
“Don’t take it the wrong way, but whenever you say that, I fear the exact opposite.”
“I told you I’d take care of you, didn’t I?”
“Yes, but—”
He put his tongue in her mouth, effectively stifling her objection, and then his cock was in her. She would have lost her breath if she’d been able to breathe at all at the moment.
He was very still for a minute, and then he might as well have been. His movements were so small—so measured—if it weren’t for his sheer size, she wouldn’t have felt him. She suspected he was trying to be gentle and to give her body the chance to accommodate him, but she didn’t want gentle from him, at least not yet.
She squeezed him within her, and gasped at the bright ripples of pleasure radiating down her legs and up her torso. She was hard up. It’d been so long, and she’d wanted him so badly.
“I suppose I shouldn’t expect patience from you, love.”
She could only croak in response, as he’d dipped his hips and worked his way deep
er into her only to pull almost all the way out. So good. So good, but she’d known it would be. She tightened her legs around his waist and encouraged him faster, deeper, less concerned about his pleasure than her own. After all, he had kept her waiting.
“We’ll get there, Princess,” he whispered.
“I want to get there soon.” So soon, or she might die from need. Her body craved the fire he stoked and couldn’t get enough of the burn—of the mix of pleasure edged with pain because he was so large and she was so tense. She couldn’t relax with him in her. She met each of his thrusts with one of her own, clenching around him and mewling at the pleasurable sparks created by her sensitive nipples abrading his bare chest. All the while, he kissed her as if she didn’t need to think or breathe, and she wondered if she should just give up on trying.
He swirled his hips and thrust, hard flesh into receptive vessel, his tongue giving the same pace and enthusiasm.
And there went that tightening pull where her body half hung on and half gave in, she both pushed at him and drew in him. Wanting to stretch out the lovemaking, but to stoke it to a climax, too. She wanted that more. Wanted that feeling of freedom that came with holding on so tight and then letting go for someone she trusted.
And she did trust him. Knew he spoke the truth when he said she was his top priority. It’d been so long since she’d been anyone’s top priority, and so she’d reward him with her body. Her faith.
The breathtaking cascade started in her belly and swirled around her body, drawing in each inch of muscle as if her orgasm was a sinkhole of pleasure. Whispering his name again and again, she could hardly feel anything except him and that brightness and everything else was numb. Nothing else mattered.
Just him. His body. His lips. His whispered, “Simone? You hear me?”
“Mmm.”
“Open your eyes for me.”
“Huh?”
“Open your eyes, love.”
She pushed them open slowly. It seemed such a chore. Her vision cleared on Heath on top of her, but in double. No, not double. Just…energy. His energy. The real Heath, his body, was very still. He held her tight to him, his face in the throes of passion. Her own head—she could see her own head right beside her—was tilted back and her eyes were half closed.