SPURNED: Elkridge Series, Book 2, A novella

by Lyz Kelley

  “I see. Thus no boyfriend.”

  “Exactly. I don’t want to stop seeing you though,” I added quickly. “But … we need to keep it on the down low.”

  His frown deepened.

  I slid my hand over his. I could only imagine such a lie insulted his Guardian sensibilities. “Just don’t come to my races, okay? I mean, at least not when my coach is there.”

  He gave a curt nod.

  “Your turn.”

  “My parents are coming to visit me on Monday.”

  “Oh?” That should have been good news, but the hardness in his voice made me think otherwise. “Why are they visiting?”

  Piran took a corner fast, and I clung to the door handle.

  “Sorry.” He relaxed his grip on the steering wheel and eased off the speed. “My first art show is Monday evening, at the school.”

  “And both of your parents are coming to see your show?”

  “Yes.” He said the word quietly, then paused. “At first, my father was not interested in viewing my paintings, although I was one of only three students selected for the show.”

  “So why’d he change his mind?”

  “That,” Piran replied, pulling into my driveway, “I do not know.”

  I leaned over to kiss him. “Well, I’d love to see your show.”

  His lips stiffened beneath mine.

  I drew back. “What’s wrong? Is there some reason you don’t want me to see your artwork?” I narrowed my eyes. “Please don’t tell me your stuff is perverted, like you paint naked ladies or whatever.”

  With a chuckle, he shook his head. “No, I do not paint naked ladies.”

  Yet he averted his gaze and fiddled with the radio, shifting in his seat. Something was off.

  Piran snapped off the radio and leaned back, exhaling. “It is not my artwork I wish for you to avoid, but my father.”

  “Oh.” I tugged on my lower lip, a sinking feeling settling in my stomach.

  His hand caressed my cheek. “Sweet Bailey, my father is…difficult. That is all.”

  “Okay.” I leaned into his caress and kissed him again. The porch light flicked on, and Piran jerked his hand away from my face. I giggled. “It’s only my mom. Don’t panic. She likes you. But I should go in. I’ve been gone all day and she’s probably worried.”

  I exited his car and trotted up the walk to the porch, trying to block out the nagging feeling Piran had just lied to me about this father. Then again, maybe the man was a member of the Fae anti-human council. I shrugged it off. So what? Even if his father was the biggest hater on the planet, I was seeing Piran, not his father.

  Chapter 8

  Saturday afternoon, the doorbell rang. In a burst of energy, I skidded down the hallway to the front door. Piran had called that morning, saying he planned to come over. Thankfully, Mom and Dad had gone to a Cubs baseball game and would be gone all afternoon, saving me from any weird parental cross-examination.

  I ran my hands over my hair in an attempt to smooth the frizz and opened the door, unable to contain my grin.

  “Expecting someone else?” Kelsi teased. “Forgot my phone.”

  My grin vanishing, I groaned. My sister grabbed her phone from the kitchen counter and lifted the lid off the candy canister. She snitched a handful of soft, white candies and popped one in her mouth. “Mmm…Dad makes the best candy.”

  “Dad said he was saving those to give to Uncle Garrett.”

  “Oops, my bad. Hopefully, he won’t notice a few missing. See you tonight.” She wiped her mouth and headed to the front door.

  “Uh, Kelsi? Forget something?” I dangled her car keys from my fingers.

  Piran stood on the porch, and Kelsi turned just as I tossed her the keys. She winked. “Have fun, Bay.”

  Holding a large, wooden canvas carrier, he stepped into the hallway.

  “Your artwork?” I rubbed my hands together. I couldn’t wait to see what he painted.

  Piran gestured to the kitchen, and I followed. After setting the carrier on the table, he unlatched it and lifted out a canvas, his expression hesitant.

  “I won’t say anything bad,” I promised.

  He turned the canvas around, and my breath caught in my throat. It was a painting of me on my racing bike. Like all Fae paintings, it pulsed with life and movement, a canvas in motion. The wheels of my bike whirled, my hair blowing behind me. My thighs rocked like a piston, the muscles in my calves corded, an intense look of concentration on my face.

  He’d captured who I’d always wanted to be.

  “Who you are,” Piran said softly. “An athlete. Strong and beautiful.”

  Trembling, I raised my gaze to his.

  “Do you know what I see in you?” he asked.

  In a daze, I shook my head.

  “Your toughness, perseverance, and focus. Unlike the delicate Fae women, you are not a fragile flower, easily crushed.”

  I didn’t bother trying to hold back the tears that sprang forth.

  “Please,” he whispered. “Do not cry, sweet Bailey. Have I hurt you?”

  I blinked. Hurt me? Hell, no. Not unless it hurt to be finally accepted for who I was.

  He stroked my cheek, gently wiping away the tears. “I have never met a girl like you.”

  My heart swelled, and I wrapped my hand around his, overcome by a jumble of emotions. Stunned. Honored. Appreciated. Yet, just like that, he’d reminded me of the girls he knew, and I couldn’t get that out of my mind.

  I bit my lip, working up my courage. “Piran, how many women have you slept with?”

  His eyes widened. “I am twenty-two, Bailey. You understand I am not a boy.” He dug the heel of his hand into his temple. “Is the number truly important?”

  “Yes,” I replied, my voice wavering.

  I couldn’t kid myself. The Guardian Fae were beautiful and sensual. Yet for some reason, I needed to know how many I’d be compared to. Ten? Twenty? A hundred? Maybe it wasn’t important to him, but it was to me. Bracing, I fussed with the buttons on my shirt.

  His fingers slipped away from mine, and he thrust his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Most men from my land are—”

  “I know,” I interrupted. Who didn’t?

  He nodded, and his gaze wandered for a moment before finally landing on me. “However, I am not.”

  It took me a moment to comprehend what he was saying.

  “When I became of age,” he continued, leaning on the kitchen counter, “I was arranged to marry a young Fae woman from the mountains in my homeland, but we quickly realized we were not compatible.” He shook his head, a rueful expression on his face. “Not in the least.”

  “So have you ever, you know, had sex with a woman?”

  He actually rolled his eyes, but a crimson blush crept over his cheeks. “Yes, but not nearly as many as you believe.” He cleared his throat and raised two fingers.

  Oh my God. I had completely misjudged him. That day in my bathroom, he no doubt had been as nervous as I was.

  “More so,” he said with an embarrassed laugh. “Yet, Bailey, I fear …” He sighed, looking a bit like a lost little boy. “I know you expect me to be experienced and lead the way. To teach you. I am so sorry, sweet Bailey.” He extended his palms to me, as if pleading.

  I grabbed his hands, entwining my fingers in his. “No, no. Please don’t be sorry.”

  “I am a Fae man,” he said, lifting his chin in pride. Then his shoulders slumped. “Apparently, I dishonor the Fae reputation. I have never taken a human woman.”

  “Oh.” Suddenly I laughed, and he stared at me as if I’d gone crazy.

  “This is good?” he asked, his eyebrows rising.

  “Yes,” I said, giving him a coy smile, feeling a flush of heat over my cheeks. “This way we can learn together. We can learn from each other.”

  My voice sounded smokier than I ever believed possible. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach, and my mind was a jumble of emotions, but I knew what I wanted. I le
d Piran upstairs and into my bedroom.

  Standing on my tiptoes, I leaned into him and kissed his incredible mouth, reveling in the feel of his warm lips. Slipping a hand behind his back, I snatched the end of his braid and pulled off the tie binding his hair.

  He drew back slowly, his gaze meeting mine as I separated the thick cords of his silky hair with my fingers. His hand caught my wrist. “Are you sure?”

  I nodded. I’d never been so sure of anything.

  Crimson rays streaked through his eyes like the blood coursing through my veins. I kissed him again and again. I couldn’t get enough. Wrapping his arms around me, he held the back of my head, deepening the kiss, his tongue sliding over mine, sending a torrent of sensations down my spine.

  Damn, this boy could kiss.

  My chest rose and fell in rhythm with his, until his mouth trailed down my jaw and along my neck, before hovering over my ear. I squirmed and gasped, wanting more. Overcome with the need to feel him, to touch his skin, I tugged on his T-shirt.

  He yanked the shirt over his head, and I stared, open-mouthed at his chiseled abs and tight pecs. Unable to stop myself, I placed my hands on his hard chest. The warmth flooding my palms surprised me.

  “I can feel your heartbeat,” I whispered. “So fast and strong.”

  But that wasn’t all I wanted to feel.

  His mouth rose in a crooked grin, and he gripped the bottom of my tank top and peeled it upward. I raised my hands in the air, and shook out my hair as he tossed the tank aside. Warm fingers traced the strap of my bra over my shoulder and down my shoulder blade. Just that simple touch filled me with such longing.

  Then he stepped behind me. I stood, trembling, while he lifted my bra band and undid the clasp. Laying the back of my head against his chest, I remained in his embrace, my eyes drifting closed, while his hands slid beneath the loosened bra and gently cupped my breasts. His fingers kneaded and stroked, and I released a soft sigh of pleasure, savoring his gentle but skilled touch. I arched against him, wrapping my hands around his neck.

  “Bailey,” he growled, his hands traveling down my stomach to my jeans.

  I rolled my hips, encouraging him, and he popped open the waistband button. Slowly, ever so slowly, he dragged down the zipper, the anticipation killing me. I damn near tore the zipper down myself.

  “Wait,” he said, sounding breathless.

  Oh God, no. I didn’t want to wait.

  “We need to discuss …” His hands glided over my lower belly. “I was not anticipating—”

  “Don’t worry,” I said, running my hands over his broad shoulders. “I’m on the pill. But I always assumed the Fae had some way of controlling their fertility. I mean, there aren’t many halflings running around.”

  “No, we do not have a switch that turns on and off like that,” he said with a slight chuckle. His hands mirrored mine, and I leaned into his touch. “A research group is studying why so few halflings have been born.”

  “Mmm?” I really wasn’t interested at the moment.

  “Nor am I,” Piran agreed, his silky voice once again hypnotic.

  He picked me up and laid me on my bed. For a moment, he simply stared at me then ran his hands up and down my torso, over my breasts, over my stomach, heating every inch of my skin. When his breath swept over my abdomen, my hands curled in the bed quilt.

  Gripping my jeans, he eased them over my hips and down my legs, then tossed them on the floor. I couldn’t take my gaze away, watching the way his muscles flexed. The moment his hands touched my bare thighs, a flush of adrenaline sent every nerve in my body tingling. His thumbs traveled higher and higher, and my pulse throbbed low in my belly.

  Almost there. My back arched and my hips twisted. Everywhere he touched felt as if awakening after a forever sleep.

  Definitely not clueless groping.

  He slid my panties down and brushed his lips across my upper thigh. Not breathing. Tingling. Aching. His mouth descended between my legs, and my eyes rolled all the way to the back of my skull. Lips, tongue, fingers invaded me. Burning me. How the hell did he know how to do this? No, I did not want to know. I just didn’t want it to stop.

  I couldn’t control my legs from shaking. Moaning, I clung to my bed, the pressure building. So close. On the edge. Yes…Right there … Oh God! Exquisite white-hot waves slammed into me again and again. I never wanted them to end, even though I didn’t think I could handle one more second.

  Somewhere off in the distance my body floated, blissful and content, while my head reeled with the knowledge I’d just had the most mind-blowing orgasm ever.

  Soft laughter penetrated my reflections, and I opened my eyes to Piran’s perfect face hovering over mine. Murmuring something unintelligible, I bunched and stretched like a happy jellyfish, while he unzipped and removed his jeans.

  Loneliness could wait, though. Right now she had to concentrate on the basics—food and shelter—and for both of those, she needed to stick to the plan. No distractions.

  Mr. Sexy was certainly a distraction.

  “If you keep going up the highway, there are some historical sites which have nice photo opportunities,” she added.

  His eyes darkened and sparkled like a newly polished stone. “It sure is pretty here.”

  The way he studied her, he was talking about her, not the mountain ridges looming over the valley walls.

  “Yes, it is,” she said, echoing his meaning.

  Thank you for reading: SPURNED

  Lyz Kelley is an award-winning author who lives in Colorado with her husband and several of her furry four-legged animals.

  Lyz loves to hear from readers, so feel free to email her at: Lyz@LyzKelley.com. If you’re interested in learning about her new releases, sign up for her newsletter on the home page of her website, www.LyzKelley.com

  Please also consider leaving a review on Amazon and/or Goodreads. Reviews help readers find new books to read, and authors find their footing. www.Amazon.com or www.Goodreads.com

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  More Books by Lyz Kelley

  Elkridge Series

  BLINDED

  SPURNED

  Coming Soon:

  ABANDONED

  ORPHANED

  EXPOSED

  RESCUED

  Copyright

  SPURNED Copyright © 2017 Belvitri Services, LLC

  Email: Lyz@LyzKelley.com

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  All rights reserved.

  Copyright invigorates creativity, encourages diversity, promotes and supports free speech.

  Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with the copyright laws by not printing, scanning, uploading, or sharing any part of this book without permission of the publisher.If you would like to use material from this book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher Belvitri Services, LLC at www.belvitri.com by writing to the following address:

  8357 N. Rampart Range Rd. Unit 106-114

  Littleton, CO 80125

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places or incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to the actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. For questions and comments about the quality of this book please contact us at Lyz Kelley’s contact page.

  Cover Art: Covers by Rogenna

  ead back, squinting hard, as a tortured growl ripped from his throat. I stared in rapt attention. Time seemed to stand still as his taut body shuddered and shook. Then he collapsed over me, panting.

  For several moments, I clutched his heaving body, stroking his hair, not minding the sweat coating hi
s skin. To know he could lose control like that, because of me, stole my breath. Stole my soul. Tears misted my eyes, and I hastily wiped them away.

  “No, Bailey,” he said softly, rising onto his forearms. “Do not be ashamed of your tears.” He dipped his head and kissed my damp cheek. “I feel the same way.”

  “Overwhelmed?”

  A smile creased his face. “The best kind of overwhelmed.”

  He rolled onto his back, and I snuggled in his arms, filled with a sense of destiny. We belonged together. He made me feel whole.

  “Do you know what I wish?” he asked me.

  “Mmm, no.” I stroked his jaw line.

  “I wish I had met you earlier.”

  Warmth radiated throughout my chest. I couldn’t believe a guy as wonderful as Piran wanted and loved me.

  “My sweet Bailey,” he said, taking my hand and lightly kissing my fingertips. “You do not see yourself as others do. You are indeed most lovable.”

  Giggling, I rolled onto my side and traced the deep furrows of his abs. “How did you get muscles like these? You don’t strike me as the ‘workout’ kind of guy.”

  “Swimming. Since I was a child, I spent every day swimming across the lake near my home, racing against Tolmin. It took me many years before I could beat him.” Piran laughed. “I understand the motivation to win a race.”

  “I always wondered what it would be like to have a childhood friend,” I said, a touch wistful. “My family moved so many times for my dad’s job, I never stayed close to friends I had in each place. Maybe that’s why Kelsi and I are so tight.”

  Piran reached over and thumbed my chin. “Do not be sad. I know how you feel. I also do not have many friends.” He stared off into the distance for a moment before returning his focus to me. “Yet Tolmin and I are as close as brothers. We even came to America together.”

  “What’s he doing here?”

  “Studying for a degree in business. A useful degree, so my father says.” Piran sighed.

  I rested my head on Piran’s chest. My turn to comfort him. “Not all jobs should be about how much money you make. I want to be a professional athlete in a sport that will barely pay the bills. But hey, it’s what I want to do.”