He flipped her to her back and thrust into her, while she was still spasming, until he groaned and shook in turn, his hips slammed into her and held him inside while his cock jerked.
Artur dropped onto her and gasped for air while he slid out of her with one hand on his cock. “I will be right back, and then, I am going to die. I think you just killed me.”
She didn’t have the strength to laugh.
When he came back, he curled her against him and spooned her under the covers. It was their last night at the Crossroads, and she would always think of it fondly.
Chapter Eight
“Cori, I would like you to meet the Darlings.” Artur kept his arm around her as he walked her toward the couple standing on the deck overlooking the wetland.
The older couple turned to face them, and their faces broke out in smiles.
“Arty!”
The older woman came toward him and pried him away from Cori, giving him a hug.
The man sauntered up. “Excuse my wife, miss. She is a little possessive of our son.”
Cori suddenly had the feeling that this wasn’t going to be easy.
His mother finally leaned back and smirked. “So, dear, how many tattoos do you have?”
Artur cleared his throat. “I wasn’t at a trade show, Mom. I went to the Crossroads. This is my mate, Coriel Flisk. For the record, she doesn’t have any tattoos.”
Cori felt his father’s arms come around her. “It is an honour to welcome you, daughter. I am Crispin Darling and this is my wife, Muriel.”
She stumbled when he let her go. “Thank you for the welcome, Crispin. Pleased to meet you, Muriel.”
Her new mother-in-law was staring at her, and Cori wondered if she had two heads.
“You went to the Crossroads without telling me?” Muriel rounded on Artur.
He nodded. “I did and the mating is binding.”
“And you brought this home?”
Artur scowled. “Do not take that tone when you speak about Cori, and for that matter, you have not greeted her yet.”
Crispin put his arm around his mate. “He is corrected, Mumu. You are being exceptionally rude, even for you.”
Cori was wary when Muriel stepped toward her.
“Hello, Coriel, was it?”
“Hello, Muriel.”
“What do you do for a living?”
It was bald but not an unexpected question. “I am a costume designer with my own shop.”
“So, you aren’t after Arty for his money?”
Artur rolled his eyes in frustration.
“Um, we haven’t discussed money. We both have artistic inclinations, we are attracted to each other and we love to dance. Anything else will be shared in its own time.”
“And you are just going to jump into having a family?”
Cori shook her head. “Nope. We had that talk already and agree that we need to have room to move before I start swelling to introduce the next generation.”
Muriel looked Cori over and turned to her husband. “She isn’t as pretty as Sandra.”
Artur stiffened and his face grew dark; Cori put her hand on his arm.
“It is fine. We won’t be living nearby after all.”
That got Muriel’s attention. “What? You will live here. We will buy you a house and you will remain nearby.”
Cori leaned forward and confronted the older woman. “Bullshit. I have a house, a business and a family of my own. The mating contract was binding. I am for him, he is for me, but it didn’t mention you at all.”
Crispin covered his laugh with one hand.
Artur was grinning with respect in his expression.
Muriel burst out laughing. “Well, it seems you have a short fuse for pushing your manners. Bravo. Arty needs someone with guts who can stand on her own feet.”
Cori finally understood that she had just been tested. “I noticed that.”
Muriel held out her arms. “Welcome to the family, daughter.”
After the hug, Cori returned to Artur’s side.
Muriel and Crispin led them inside, and Muriel asked, “You actually dance together?”
Artur grinned. “So far foxtrot, waltz, tango and flamenco.”
Muriel teared up. “Really? I am so happy for you son.”
Crispin laughed and Cori giggled.
Dinner with the Darlings wasn’t as painful as it could have been.
They drove the six hours to her home the next day, and when she opened her door, she sighed in relief. There was nothing like home after some weird adventures, and stepping inside with Artur at her back, there was nothing weirder than coming home with a trophy that she got to sleep with.
He stepped inside her house, closed the door and then turned and whispered, “Good god. This is amazing!”
In the walls were her more elaborate creations, some of which had been used for stage and screen. Each glassed-in alcove contained a plaque that contained the details of when and where it had first been seen.
“I can’t believe you made all these.” He stopped in front of a volcano princess costume that she had made for a B-movie with a cult-film following.
“That is another way that I managed to finance my shop and home. I sold a few of my creations to collectors and did some interesting versions for the BDSM market.”
She headed for her room and pulled on some more comfortable clothing. The tunic fell to her knees and she sashed it in place before shrugging a long, open vest over it. She unbraided her hair and let the loose waves hang.
Artur was still making his way through the exhibits. The lights in the cases were motion activated, and as he left one, it dimmed.
She leaned against the room divider and watched him go from costume to costume. “Would you like to see the workshop?”
He turned and his boyish smile was agreement enough. “Hey, you changed.”
“I did. I tend to be one step away from a costume at any time. At home, I go for comfort, so it is usually tunics and loose trousers. Today, I skipped the pants.”
She held out her hand and beckoned him.
She didn’t know if it was the thought of seeing more projects or the idea of her with nothing on under the tunic, but he got to his feet and took her hand.
The upper floor of her home was designed to catch the light. One entire wall was made of glass, and doors led onto a wide balcony.
“You are more than welcome to one of the spare desks. I only need the two on the left.”
“It looks like you were preparing for an army of designers.”
Cori rubbed the back of her neck. “I was preparing for anything. It was the same price to get six desks installed as two.”
He raised his brows. “How is that possible?”
“My dad is a contractor. I paid him the actual rate for the construction and he didn’t rip me off. It was nice. He took my mom on a vacation.” She grinned.
There were four dressmaker’s mannequins in the center of the room, all with costumes in differing phases of construction. Bolts of fabric and lace were in an organizer along one wall and sewing machine stations as well as sergers were all loaded and ready for action.
“This is very organized.”
She chuckled. “It is. It has to be. When you are doing inventory on fabrics that cost hundreds of dollars per yard, you have to know what you have.”
“Very nice. I am going to use these tables over here, if you don’t mind.” He gestured to the ones across the studio from her.
“They and their corkboards are all yours. Just a warning, the fabric does create a lot of dust and I do have air filters in here, but if you have anything that can collect lint, cover it up.” She smiled.
“Will do. I will remember to close up my portfolio or suffer the consequences.”
She grinned. “Now for the hard part, meeting my family.”
His smile was sheepish. “Do we have to do that today?”
“You don’t have any siblings?”
“No. Just a lot of cousins.”
He sighed. “Oh good. Two only children collided in the Crossroads. This is going to be fun.”
She sauntered over to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Let’s go and have a nice refreshing nap, get you unpacked and settled in and then tackle my parents. No one knows we are back, so no one will be looking for us. I haven’t even turned my cell phone back on yet.”
“Don’t you need the contact to keep your business running?”
“If my assistant has to close the shop, she has to close the shop. Simple as that.”
He blinked. “That is an odd attitude for a shopkeeper.”
“If I am not willing to be there or be on call, I can’t expect my replacement to put my company first. The stress before Halloween is intense, and if I dodge it, there is no reason that she has to take the entire brunt the whole time. There aren’t any big contracts outstanding, so I am not worried.”
He grinned. “Do you want to come with me to a trade show next month?”
She blinked. “It depends on if you can give me a hand getting a leg up on my New Year’s Eve workload. If you man the shop for a week and Nina can help me up here, then, yes.”
“Deal.”
They returned to the main floor, and she moved armloads of costumes out of her closet, putting them in the guestroom down the hall. Her dresser was already half empty, so he just took up the available space.
She stripped and crawled between the sheets, settling in to relax after the six hours in the car.
Artur joined her, cuddling her close. “You have a very nice house.”
She chuckled. “We have a very nice house. It will take me a while to share my toys, but this is as much your home as it is mine unless we move and start over.”
“I will give it some thought. It seems like you designed this house with sharing it in mind.” He pressed a kiss to her shoulder.
“I did. I just never thought that my planning and hoping would ever bear fruit.”
“Are you calling me fruity?”
She chuckled. “Just hold me and get some rest. We have been running on a harsh schedule and a little recovery time is in order.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He settled his hips against hers and his breathing evened out before she nodded off.
Chapter Nine
Cori had the strange feeling that everyone staring at her was hungry. They all eyed her unmarked skin with a semi-vampiric lust that made her uneasy.
“Do they always stare like this? I am wearing more clothing than most of the women here. I don’t understand why they are gawking at me.” She walked the rows of the booths with Artur, and he seemed puffed with pride to have her next to him.
“They are admiring the untouched canvas that you represent. Most of the women here are sporting some serious ink. You have not yet succumbed to temptation. You are an innocent soul in hell, and they want to be the ones to corrupt you.”
“That is graphic.”
He waggled his eyebrows. “I know, right? I have been working on the analogy for weeks.”
She laughed and slapped him, the engagement ring on her finger still a little weird to see on her hand. She blinked out of staring at the gleam, and they continued to find Arkenon’s booth.
“So, how many folk here are like us?”
He chuckled. “Like you? None. But our kind, yes. There they are.”
The crowd around the booth was a little daunting, but Artur hauled her through it, and she was soon face to face with a woman who sported actual golden hair.
“Cori, this is Tyla. Tyla, this is my fiancé, Cori.”
Tyla grinned. “Your face is familiar, Cori.”
Arkenon unravelled himself from the crowd and shook Artur’s hand. “Good to see you again; do you have the designs?”
Artur held up the portfolio. “All in here.”
“Come through to the back.”
An assistant moved to head off the crowd as their little gathering moved through the displays, down a dark hallway and into a hospitality room.
Arkenon sighed. “I had forgotten how rough these things were.”
Tyla smirked, “I am having fun.”
He moved next to her and kissed her lightly. “Then all the frustration is worth it.”
Artur shifted next to Cori, and she stroked his arm. “Right, well, I am here to drop off these requests, and then, I want to show Cori around a little.”
They sat together around a table, and Artur began to pull out the pictures he had been working on. Several of them were based on the costumes in the cases that he had begged Cori to model for him. He changed the hair and eye colour but the pinups were definitely her.
Artur pulled out a folder with a seal. “This is the one I wanted to get done myself.”
Tyla leaned forward with curiosity and gasped when the image of Cori holding a sheet up to herself with wings for arms and hair tumbled over one eye, was set on the table.
“Wow. The wings are so pink. Are you a flamingo?” Tyla was looking at her with worshipful eyes.
“Um, yes. Yes, I am.” She had no idea that he wanted to get a tattoo of her on him.
“I think your colouring is gorgeous. I am just a goose.”
Arkenon snorted and shook his head. “You are not just anything, Tyla.”
Artur reached in and brought out a second folder. “Here is the one you asked for.”
Arkenon opened the folder and grinned. “Perfect.”
Tyla moved around to see what he saw and she slapped his arm. “You are not putting me on you.”
He chuckled. “I can if Artur is willing to swap skills for skills. I was thinking we could get together in two weeks or so.”
The boys opened their phones and set their playdate for after thanksgiving.
Tyla and Cori met gazes and rolled their eyes.
Cori nodded. “If you want to stay for a few days, I can set up a guestroom.”
Tyla asked, “Do you have space?”
Artur nodded. “We have space.”
Tyla and Cori sat with cups of coffee while the men looked at the pretty pictures.
“Don’t you mind him using you for the template of the tattoos? Some of those are going to be on complete strangers within a month.”
Cori shrugged. “He changes me enough and basically is using me as a reference point. I don’t mind. I use him for my designs as well, so it is a fair trade.”
“What kind of designs?”
“I am a costumer. I make and design costumes that I sell to folks for parties, re-enactments and conventions. Now and then, I dabble in movies and theatre but freaky pieces for folks to prance around in is my speciality.”
Tyla grinned. “I admire your fashion sense. Not everyone could pull off a short skirt, bustle, corset and fishnet stockings and sleeves. You are both exposed and completely concealed. Bravo.”
“That is what I was going for.” Cori laughed.
Tyla was wearing jeans and a t-shirt with comfortable sneakers.
“Could you design me something for events like this?” Tyla whispered it so that Arkenon wouldn’t hear.
“I don’t see why not. If you come with Arkenon for the tattoo exchange, you and I will work on the design while they play.”
“It’s a date.”
They shook on it and a weird tingle went up Cori’s arm. She rubbed her hand. “What is that?”
Tyla blinked innocently. “Oh, nothing. Nothing at all.”
Arkenon looked back at them and winked while Cori tried to figure out what kind of nothing it could have been.
Cori and Artur wandered through the tattoo expo, and she saw sights that she had never imagined. Of course, the reason that she had never imagined the
m was that they would haunt her dreams. Body piercing in an open forum just didn’t seem like a good idea, and forehead implants just weren’t sound in her estimation.
Once Artur explained a Prince Albert to her, she spent her time staring at men’s crotches trying to figure who had one.
He was chortling every time she gasped, and she got the feeling he was going to be hoarse by the end of the day.
“Stop snickering, Artur. You are the one expecting me to take it all in in one afternoon.”
“I know, I know, it isn’t fair. Funny though.”
She had fitted costumes on folks with cutouts for all sorts of piercings but those piercings had been done long before she saw the folks. Here, men were waddling around with a pound of gauze in the front of their trousers because they thought something seemed like a good idea.
“Very funny. Where does he get the inks that he needs?” She switched topics.
“He has a link with some of the mages. Many are willing to trade tattoos for the inks.”
“Nice. So, the barter system is alive and well.”
“It is.” He laughed.
As they went through the expo, she collected temporary tattoos, multi-coloured and flavoured condoms and a clip-on nose ring.
Back at their hotel room, she settled in with an embroidery hoop on her lap and started stitching while he went back to the literal drawing board.
It was a strange but companionable moment as they each fell into their own worlds, side by side.
The next day, Artur attended a few of the seminars and returned to her exhausted and in need of a backrub.
She worked out the knots and smiled. “Was it worth hauling me along?”
He groaned and dropped his head forward. “Every moment of it. Those who recognized me from being with Arkenon swarmed me after the hygiene seminar. They want to know his secrets for colour and precision. No one is ever satisfied with the word practice.”
“Poor baby. Nina got a request for all of my Regency costumes today. I told her to go ahead and sell them.”
“Good. Are they hard to replace?”
“I rarely have call for them unless there is a literary convention in town, then everyone has to dress like Jane Austen’s characters.”
A Life Less Pink Page 5