Gawain (Knights of Excalibur Book 1)

by Hanley, Donald

  The shower was starting to steam, so he shook that nonsense out of his head and gingerly stepped over the edge of the tub, amused at the irony of living for centuries only to die from slipping on a wet floor and dashing his brains out. The water stung his more recent wounds and threatened to scald him, so he quickly adjusted the temperature and pulled the curtain closed around the tub.

  He washed and rinsed his hair and started soaping his arms when a quiet click caught his attention. He looked around but the curtain was too thick to see through and the falling water masked any other sounds. He listened, holding his breath, and heard a rustling of cloth somewhere in the room.

  “Hello?” he called. “I’m in the shower,” he added, just in case whoever it was thought someone had left the water running. There was no answer and he carefully parted the curtain, tensing as he prepared to meet whatever threat was out there.

  His breath caught in his throat as he was greeted by the sight of a familiar pair of pale white buttocks, as Trisha leaned over to pull her nightgown over her head. She must have heard him, since she froze, clutching the nightgown to her chest, and then she visibly steeled herself and laid it on the vanity. She took a long, slow breath and then turned around to face him.

  Her selfies hadn’t done her body justice at all. Her breasts were full but not overly large, with dark pink nubbin nipples perking up in the cold air. She obviously worked out but not to the point where her muscles were well-defined, just smooth and shapely. She didn’t know what to do with her hands and she clearly wanted to cover her bush, a neatly-trimmed oval of short dark curls. Her head was down but her big brown eyes kept looking up at him through her lashes, as if she was trying to assess his reaction.

  “Trisha,” he croaked, but she shook her head vehemently.

  “Don’t say anything,” she told him in a quavering voice. She climbed into the tub and closed the curtain, silently taking the forgotten bar of soap from his hand and turning him around to wash his back.

  She scrubbed him methodically, starting from the nape of his neck and working downwards, the tips of her fingernails scraping his skin lightly. She stopped partway through and traced the lines of his pentangle with her fingertip, following the indigo ribbon of ink from point to point until she ended up back where she started.

  “You never told me what this means,” she said softly.

  “It represents the five virtues of knighthood,” he told her, his voice rough and husky. “Generosity, courtesy, chastity, chivalry, and piety.”

  “Oh.” She seemed taken aback, lifting her hands away from him, and he looked over his shoulder to see why. She looked dismayed and uncertain.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She hung her head, turning away and covering her breasts with her arm. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t know.”

  “Know what?” he asked, puzzled by her sudden change of behavior.

  “About your – your vow.” At his frown, she added, meekly, “Chastity.”

  “Oh, that.” He shook his head with a sigh. “They’re principles, Trisha,” he explained patiently, “not vows. I’ve broken every single one of them many times at one point or another. They’re ideals to be strived for, but I’m only human. Even Galahad strayed.”

  Hawk turned around to face her. The erection pointing skyward between his legs made it clear that chastity wasn’t on his mind right now. Trisha’s eyes locked on it, her lips forming an O of surprise, and she reached out to take it in her hand, slowly running her fingers from the base to the tip. Hawk sucked his breath in at the thrill of pleasure that surged through him. He wanted her, now, but she moved before he could seize her hips and pull her closer.

  Instead, she knelt in front of him and lathered her hands, taking hold of him and stroking him in a steady rhythm, each up-and-down motion bringing him one step closer to the precipice. He couldn’t seem to catch his breath as she pulled his foreskin back, exposing the swollen red tip of his glans, and gingerly reached out with her tongue to lick the sensitive underside. His cock spasmed and she leaned back doubtfully, as if she was surprised it would do that. He wanted to knot his fingers into her hair and pull her down, ramming his cock down her throat until his semen-heavy balls were empty, but he kept his hands clenched at his sides, waiting for her to choose her own way.

  She approached him tentatively, parting her lips and letting the tip just inside as she took hold of him again, one hand on his shaft and the other cupping his balls. She looked up at him as her tongue explored his taste and shape, blinking away the spattering drops from the forgotten shower. She looked so serious, as if she was trying to make sure she was doing it properly, and his hips thrust forward of their own accord, driving his cock all the way to the back of her throat. She gagged and recoiled, falling back against the edge of the tub, swiping the moisture from her face as she frowned at his cock, as if it had betrayed her trust.

  “I’m sorry, Trisha,” he told her roughly, holding out his hands to help her back up. “I want you more than anything. Let’s go back into the bedroom.” To his surprise, she shook her head.

  “We can’t, I’m not safe anymore.” She knelt again and took hold of him, this time using both hands, one above the other, to stroke him back into hardness, slowly increasing her speed and using her lips and tongue to tease him. He groaned as the pressure built up and up and up and he bent over her, resting his hands on her shoulders to keep her from stopping.

  “God, Trisha,” he moaned, “I’m going to cum. I’m going to cum! I’m cumming!”

  A fist banged on the door leading into the other bedroom and Macmillan’s voice sounded, muffled by the thick wood. “Hey, honey, leave some hot water for the rest of us!”

  Trisha jerked back, her hands slipping along his cock as she tried to maintain her balance, and that was enough to send him over the top. He came in great long spurts, shooting thick white cum into her eye, her hair, her mouth, and over her breasts. It seemed like it would never stop, until he finally groaned and straightened as Trisha sputtered and tried to wipe the sticky fluids from her face.

  “Trisha?” her father called, sounding concerned. “Are you okay in there?”

  “I’m fine!” she called desperately, or tried to. She inhaled a mouthful of water from the shower and started coughing, waving off Hawk’s attempts to help. She spat out water and semen and tried to scrape the wad out of her eye. “I’m okay!” she tried again. “I just got some s– some soap in my eye.”

  “Oh, okay, well, be careful, and easy on the water, honey. Gawain’s going to want to take a shower, too.”

  “Okay! We’re almost done!” She hunted around for the bar of soap and frantically started scrubbing away the evidence. The silence on the other side of the door stretched out for a long time.

  “We?” Macmillan asked finally, an edge of suspicion in his voice.

  “No, not we! Me! I’m almost done!” Oh my God! Trisha mouthed, looking mortified, and Hawk was hard-pressed not to burst out laughing. She glared at him to keep him quiet and then used her soapy hands to clean him off, spending an inordinate amount of time making sure his shrinking cock was positively squeaky before rinsing everything off and finally shutting off the shower.

  She pressed her finger to her lips as they clambered out of the tub and rubbed each other down with towels. Halfway through, Hawk stopped her and lifted her chin with his finger. She stared up at him, startled, and he pressed his against hers in a long, forceful, heart-stopping kiss. When they finally broke apart, they were both breathless.

  Trisha came to her senses first and grabbed their clothes, jamming them into Hawk’s hands and shoving him towards their bedroom. Clutching her towel against her, she scanned the bathroom for any lingering hints as to what had been going on in there. She spotted Hawk’s discarded bandages and stuffed them into the wastebasket and then called “Okay, it’s all yours!” before scampering after Hawk and closing the door firmly behind her.

  Hawk stood in the center of the
room, naked and damp and looking amused. “I haven’t had to bolt out the door to escape a lady’s father in at least a century,” he noted wryly.

  “Shh!” she told him, listening at the door. She thought she heard the other door opening and closing but she couldn’t be sure. “I’ll die of embarrassment if they find out.”

  “Are you sorry you did it?”

  She looked at him in surprise. “No, of course not. Are you?” she asked uncertainly.

  “Never.” He threw their clothes on his bed and approached her. She shrank back, clutching her towel, but he just rested his hands on her arms, his eyes boring into hers. “Trisha, you’re a very special woman,” he told her sincerely. “I’ve only known you for a couple of days and it somehow seems like it’s been forever.” He lifted one hand to cup her face and brush his thumb across her cheek. “You’re brave and kind and loving and fierce. I want to be with you forever.”

  She blinked several times and tears threatened to spill from the corners of her eyes. “But I’ll get old and die and you’ll live forever,” she reminded him quietly.

  “Then let’s make every moment count.” He leaned down and kissed her, pulling her tight against him as her towel slipped unheeded to the floor.

  67

  Breakfast around the dining room table was awkward and embarrassing, at least for Trisha. Hawk kept glancing over at her with a knowing smile and she couldn’t hide her blush from her mother’s sharp gaze. Her mother didn’t say anything but the suspicious look she gave Trisha made it clear she knew there was some hanky-panky going on between them.

  Her father didn’t seem to notice anything out of the ordinary and he discussed the drive back to New York with Hawk as he forked another brace of sausages from the platter.

  “Looks like it’ll be a clear day ahead,” he said, “but the snow’s pretty deep on the road. I don’t think your fancy car’s going to make it very far.”

  “That’s a problem,” Hawk mused. “Can you give us a lift into Front Royal? We might be able to arrange a ride from there.”

  “Maybe,” her father said doubtfully. “DC would have better options for you. You could even just fly back to New York. It’d be faster.”

  Trisha almost told him she couldn’t get on an airplane, until she remembered that they’d recovered her wallet and ID. She looked at Hawk to see what he thought of that plan.

  “Washington’s a couple of hours away, right?” he asked with a frown. Her father nodded. “At that point, we’re almost halfway to New York. We might as well keep going. We’ll get there sooner in the end.”

  “What about Mom’s Jeep?” Trisha asked. They all looked at her with varying degrees of puzzlement. “It can handle the snow,” she pointed out. “We can just borrow it for now and I can bring it back when I come back for Christmas.”

  “Well, I don’t know, dear.” Her mother didn’t look enthused about her proposal. “What will I drive in the meantime?”

  “The county will plow the roads now that the weather’s getting better. You can just drive the Jaguar until we can swap. After Dad clears the driveway, that is,” she amended ruefully. “Besides, you still have Dad’s truck.”

  “Oh, a Jaguar, that would be nice. What do you think, James?”

  “I guess that’ll work,” he allowed. “You okay driving a stick, Gawain?”

  Hawk smiled. “I can manage.”

  “I can, too!” Trisha insisted. “You drove all the way down here, it’s my turn.”

  “You should let him drive, Trisha dear,” her mother told her. “Winter driving can be dangerous and he’s had more practice.”

  “A thousand years more practice,” her father muttered, attacking his stack of pancakes with his knife and fork.

  “We didn’t have cars back then,” Hawk reminded him dryly.

  “Well, a hundred years, then.”

  Trisha was still astounded at how accepting her parents were about Hawk’s outlandish, impossible story, but then she supposed coming face-to-face with a pair of shape-changing werepanthers would alter anyone’s perceptions. She wasn’t going to give up so easily, though. “I can drive to Front Royal, at least,” she countered. She didn’t tell them she intended to keep on going straight through town without stopping. “It won’t matter if I end up in the ditch between here and there, there’s no one else around.”

  “That might not be the most persuasive argument you could make,” Hawk told her with a grin.

  “Oh, er, well, I didn’t mean it like that,” she stammered, flustered as much by his deep blue eyes as by her mistake.

  “All right, dear, if you’re sure,” her mother said placatingly. “Finish up your breakfast first, it’s a long drive.”

  Stomachs full and dishes stacked in the sink, Trisha and Hawk finally made their farewells. Hawk had nothing to carry and Trisha just had her gym bag and the cairngorm, tucked safely into the pocket of her hoodie. She hugged her parents goodbye, promising she’d be back for Christmas, and watched Hawk shake hands with both of them. He swapped keys with her mother and silently handed the keys to the Wrangler to Trisha.

  Outside, the clearing was still in shadow but the sky was brightening into a clear, frosty blue. Trisha hurried to unlock the Jeep and toss her bag into the bag, while Hawk opened the passenger door and slipped inside. Trisha jumped in and started it up, turning the heaters up full before she adjusted the seat and mirrors.

  “Take it easy on the gas when you back out,” Hawk told her. “Keep it in a low gear until we reach the road.”

  “I know,” she replied testily. She pushed in the clutch and wiggled the stick shift. Hawk winced as the gears clashed before she found reverse. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “I got it now.”

  She let out her breath along with the clutch and, thankfully, pulled smoothly out from under the carport, swinging around to avoid the snow-covered Jaguar and point the hood along the driveway. Her parents stood on the porch, her father’s arm around her mother’s shoulders as they raised their hands in farewell. Trisha waved back and then carefully put the Jeep into first. The car hopped like a frightened rabbit and then surged forward smoothly, plowing through the drifted snow with ease.

  She pulled out into Eagle Drive without slowing, trusting that no one would be out and about this early after a deep snowfall, and got them headed in the right direction, leaving deep double ruts in the snow behind them. She shot a triumphant look at Hawk, who smiled back.

  “I’m sorry I doubted you,” he said. “You’re a natural.”

  “I’m just out of practice. New York, here we come!”

  She got all the way to Front Royal without incident and, as she planned, continued right through to Highway 66 heading east, daring Hawk to say something with a challenging look. He just shrugged and leaned his seat back, closing his eyes and pretending to sleep.

  There was a lot more traffic on the road than she expected, but at least it swept the lanes mostly clear of snow, allowing them to cruise at the posted limit. She eyed the fuel gauge, trying to figure out when they’d have to stop to fill up the tank. We might make it all the way to DC, she guessed, although she doubted the Wrangler had the same gas mileage as her little runabout back in Boston.

  A phone jangled noisily in the back seat, startling her, and she nearly veered into the other lane looking back to see whose it was. Hawk sat up with a grunt.

  “Should I get that?” he asked. “I’d prefer it if you looked that way most of the time.” He indicated the road ahead with a wry twist to his mouth.

  “Sorry,” she said meekly. The phone rang again. “It’s probably Mom calling to see if we’ve been in an accident already. You’d better answer it before she gets worried.”

  Hawk twisted around to grab her gym bag from the back and fumbled around through her belongings searching for the phone. He found it at the bottom and looked at the display as it rang a third time. “Mass Gen?” he read doubtfully.

  “That’s the hospital. That’s weird. Why would they be cal
ling me now?” She took the phone from him and held it up in her line of sight, trying to find the answer button without taking her eyes off the road. “Hello?”

  “There you are!”

  “Naomi?” The lead nurse sounded pissed for some reason. “What’s up?”

  “Where are you?”

  “Um, heading into DC. Why?”

  “DC?” Naomi’s voice stabbed through Trisha’s ear and she pulled the phone away with a pained wince. “You’re supposed to be here!”

  “What are you talking about? I’m not on the schedule until –” Trisha sucked in her breath in horror. “Oh my God, is it Monday? I thought it was still Sunday!” The clock on the dashboard read 8:14, more than an hour past the start of her shift. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry! I can be there in, um –” She looked at Hawk for help, but he just spread his hands. She wouldn’t be back in Boston for hours, even if she caught the next available flight from Dulles International.

  “No, never mind,” Naomi sighed heavily. “I’ll see if Janice can come in early and cover. What the hell are you doing in DC?”

  “Oh, um, well, I was –” I was kidnapped by King Arthur’s knights and attacked by shape-changing mountain lions who followed us down to my parents’ house in Virginia. “I was helping my parents,” she lied quickly, grasping desperately at the first plausible excuse that came to mind. “Someone broke into their place yesterday.” That was almost true.

  “Oh, no! Are they all right?”

  “They’re fine, just shaken up a bit.” That was an understatement. “I’m heading home now, I’ll be back in tomorrow, I promise.”

  “No, take your time, do what you need to do.” Naomi sounded a lot more sympathetic now and Trisha felt guilty for misleading her. “Just let me know if I need to get someone in to cover for you.”

  “I will. I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s okay, Trisha. These things happen. Take care.” She hung up and Trisha handed her phone back to Hawk, feeling miserable.