by Nicole
His hands moved down from her shoulders and around to the front of her chest, each hand forming a cup over her breasts. As he manipulated her nipples and continued to nibble on the sensitive flesh of her neck, she felt her own arousal stirring.
Unable to stand very much of his attention, she curled her body around to face him, gently pushed him into a sitting position and moved into his lap, straddling him on her knees.
Silently they embraced, opening their mouths and letting their tongues run wild with the other. She had the fleeting thought that he tasted like champagne and that this too was familiar - but not quite.
Raising herself, she felt him slip smoothly into her, taking him up completely and feeling the full, hard heat of him. As she moved up and down, his shaft found her clitoris, making her almost giddy with the sensation. This was not something that she’d ever done and yet it seemed perfectly natural, perfectly right with Nick.
Taking a breast in each hand, he pulled her gently forward, suckling her, alternating his tongue and the vacuum of his mouth to stimulate her.
Bracing herself on the rim of the tub with both hands, she looked down into his eyes, half closed and dreamy with the pure physical joy of the moment. She saw herself in those dark eyes, a reflection of the man she loved and the pleasure at their joining. It was as if they’d been together always, and knew each other’s secret places of passion.
For long moments, there was only the sound of the water swirling and bubbling around them. They moved together perfectly, their skins slick as wet seals, nothing but their kisses and their building passion.
“Sheridan,” he moaned softly, grabbing her ass and squeezing. “You feel so good…”
She knew he was close because the first shivers of her own climax were rippling through her.
“Nick,” she gasped, their movements urgent and furious, creating their own splashing whirlpool around them. “Oh…oh…”
Her back arched as waves of sensual fire washed over her, each one carrying her to another, higher plain. Inside she felt Nick, his body locked in a spasm of fulfillment, his face buried between her breasts.
Sagging together, it was several minutes before their heart rhythms and breathing returned to normal enough for them to speak.
“You are,” he whispered hoarsely, “the most wonderful lover a man could ask for. Every time I’m with you, I think that it can’t be any better, that there can’t be any higher heights. But you always surprise me. Bring me something more.”
“I don’t claim to be very experienced,” she replied quietly. “Believe it or not, I was a virgin when I married. I didn’t know anything. Not that he really knew anything either. But you…you just seem to bring out something in me that I didn’t even know was there. I can only say, ‘thank you’.”
“Anytime, my love, anytime.”
Nick kissed her and reached for their glasses. As they lay in the soothing water, sipping their champagne and enjoying the afterglow of their lovemaking, the niggling feeling that had been just over the horizon of her mind finally arrived in Sheridan’s consciousness.
“You know,” she mused, “now that Cat’s a success, I have to start thinking about the second book in my two-book deal.”
“When we get back. For these two weeks, you belong, body, mind and soul, exclusively to me.” Nick kissed the back of her neck and the sensation made her shiver.
“Yes, but sooner or later I have to write something. I mean, I took the money already.”
“There’s lots of time,” he assured her, his hands moving down her back. “You’re going to write lots of books.”
Taking a deep breath and opening her eyes, she turned to face him. “I…I was thinking about following it up with a kind of adult fairy tale,” she said uncertainly, searching his face. “About a male witch and a human woman who meet and fall in love.”
So there it was. From the beginning, there in her apartment when he’d first asked her if she’d like to share a pizza, he’d seen the shadows flicker in her eyes, the unspoken questions on her lips. He’d always made sure there’d been something to distract her, turn the subject. But he could see in her face now, it was time for the truth.
“A fairy tale,” he repeated.
Sheridan nodded.
Nick took her hand and kissed it. “I suppose then, like all good fairy tales, it should probably begin, ‘Once upon a time’.”
“I guess that would be as good an opening as any,” she agreed.
“Maybe I can help you with it.” He paused, as if thinking of his words. “Well, then, once upon a time, there were a race of beings who, for ease of explanation, I guess you could call witches. These powerful beings shared the physical world with their human neighbors and yet were apart from it. They weren’t really immortal, but their life spans were so long in comparison to mortals it seemed as if they were.
“And so, a long, long time ago, there lived a young witch who grew up in a family of these powerful beings, happy and content with his parents and siblings, learning the ways of the world and how to use his power.
“As adolescence overtook him, though, a strange thing began to happen. He began to dream of a woman. Always the same dream. He’d be walking through a beautiful garden, down a path to a dark pool. Bending down, he’d see the reflection of a beautiful woman, smiling and beckoning him. Not understanding the dream, he asked his mother about it. She smiled and told him that he was seeing his one true mate, the woman who would share his life forever. He asked her where he’d find her but his mother just smiled and told him that when he did, he’d know.”
Nick’s face had taken on a sad expression that Sheridan could never remember seeing and she suddenly regretted opening this door. But it was open now, and there was no way to close it until the end of the story.
“So the young witch grew to manhood and began searching for his mate. He searched this world and lots of others. He was restless, never able to settle down and feel at home because he had to find her. He looked into the faces of countless women…witches and mortals and demons alike, always hoping, always seeking. Clinging to the belief that one day, he’d turn a corner and there she’d be.”
Kissing her fingers again, he smiled a little and she saw her reflection again in the depths of his incredible blue eyes.
“And in the best fairy tale tradition, one day that’s exactly what happened. The witch was walking down a street when he happened to glance into the front window of a restaurant, and there she was. Sitting at a table by herself, she was scribbling madly on a yellow legal tablet. He stood transfixed, utterly spellbound by her, filled with a love he’d carried and nurtured for a thousand years. And when she looked up, with a faraway, thoughtful look in her beautiful eyes, his heart almost burst with longing.
“His first thought was to race into the restaurant, sweep her off her feet and live happily ever after. But he realized that there’d been someone before him. Someone who’d hurt her so badly she’d shut the door to her heart, barred it and would have spurned his attentions out of fear and misunderstanding.”
She saw herself sitting at “Max’s” many a noon, eating a solitary lunch and working on her writing, oblivious to anything or anyone around her.
“Of course, he could have snapped his fingers, enchanted her and had her fall head over heels in love with him. But that wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted her to love him for himself, as he loved her. So he began trying to find a way into her life that would keep him near her, show her how much he cared and give her a chance to fall in love with him.
“As he watched her, he began to understand how unhappy, how lonely she was, that her need for love and companionship and her ability to give and receive it was as great as his. So he shadowed her, waiting, hoping, for his chance. One day, he saw her sitting in the park eating her lunch. A stray cat came by, a scrawny, pathetic little thing that came over because he smelled her sandwich. Instead of shooing him away, she took the roast beef out of the uneaten part of her sandwi
ch and gave it to him. With that simple act of decency and kindness, the witch knew then how he’d come into her life.”
Almost in spite of herself, Sheridan smiled. “So one raw, rainy winter’s night,” she finished, “the witch changed into a black cat and invited himself into her apartment.”
Nick grinned. “Makes a nice tale, don’t you think?”
She eyed him with amused suspicion. “I have a couple of questions…purely from a writer’s point of view.”
“Such as?”
“What happened to the witch when the black cat went out the window, saving his love from the Brian?”
“For a witch, taking another shape, especially an animal, takes a lot of strength and energy. That’s why he needed to spend a lot of time away from the apartment. He had to return to his plane, his real ‘shape.’ Like recharging a battery. But fighting Brian and then falling through a second story window essentially destroyed the cat shape, smashed the battery. Since the cat shape was gone and the man shape didn’t really exist…at least not in her human plane of existence, he could still be with her, but not in any ‘real, tangible’ way she could understand.”
“Except in her dreams.”
“Because in her dreams, nothing was ‘real’ anyway. He could come to her, be with her, in his true form.”
“Then how does the witch keep his human shape without ‘recharging his batteries’ back on his own plane?”
“Simple. The human shape is how the witch really looks. It’s his own shape made visible in her reality.” Nick grinned and ran a fingertip lovingly down Sheridan’s cheek. “He doesn’t need to recharge his batteries except after he’s been making mad, passionate love to his wife.”
“And everything else? The human woman’s landlady? The other firefighters? They all have stories, memories of the witch in his human shape.”
Snapping his fingers, Nick laughed. “What is life really, except recollections? Don’t you think any witch worthy of the title could conjure up a whole lifetime of memories and stick them in people’s heads, even if they weren’t real? But if an old woman remembers a young boy and his family or a group of firefighters remember a buddy, who’s to say that the little boy or the buddy didn’t really exist? After all, they say the worst thing about Alzheimer’s is that it takes your memories and hence your life, before it kills your body.”
“So the ‘man’ never really existed? It was just another shape, like the cat. And people only ‘know’ him because the witch put the memories in their minds.”
“It’s a little more complicated than that, but yes, simply put in fairy tale terms, that’s about right. The witch knew his love had moved into a new apartment and that she’d recovered from the attempted rapebecause they made wonderful love. He knew then it was time to start laying the groundwork so he could manufacture a ‘chance’ meeting with her. So, he moved to this plane of reality, gave the landlady some comforting memories and a good friend. He gave the firefighters memories too, so he could get a job. And not to sound too immodest, especially for a fairy tale, but he’s damned good at being a firefighter/paramedic in the bargain. It was important to the witch that his beloved see him as a functioning, contributing, caring man. He wanted to be worthy of her.”
“So, the witch and the human woman live happily ever after?”
“If the witch has anything to say about it.” Sheridan smiled at the loving arrogance in his voice.
“And what about children?” she persisted. “I mean, can a witch and a human mate? And if they do, what will their children be? Human? Witch? What?”
Nick kissed her passionately, feeling her melt in his arms.
“I have no idea what the offspring of a witch and a human will be. How do any two people know what their children will be? But whatever they are, I know they’ll be terrific because what better gift can parents give their children than a strong, happy, loving home?”
He grinned wickedly. “And trust me. Witches have absolutely no trouble mating with human women. Especially a beautiful, warm, giving woman like the one in my arms. In fact…”
They shared another long, passionate kiss.
“Anything you say, Nick,” she breathed between kisses. “Anything you say.”