Simone let the curtain fall closed again and picked up the first pair of jeans. “How did you end up being aide to the queen? Pretty sweet gig.”
Lora snorted. “I don’t know if I’d call it sweet, but it suits me. I worked for her grandmother first, and Tess kept me on after Muriel retired. Hardest part of the job is keeping all those big lugs from steamrolling me.”
“I take it you don’t mean physically.”
“No. The chieftains and I don’t always agree when it comes to operational concerns, and of course, Heath and Thom tend to support them over me.”
“They’re pretty ornery.” Simone got the skinny jeans halfway up her muscular calves and changed her mind. She didn’t want to work so hard to get into pants. She tossed them onto the bench and tried the next pair. “You seem to hold your own pretty well.”
“It’s a constant battle. If you let up just a little…”
“Right. I already know where you’re going with that. They’ll take advantage of your kindness. I hear you loud and clear.” Simone managed to get the second pair of jeans up to her waist, probably due in part to the stretchy give of the fabric. Elastic was a curvy girl’s best friend. “So, you’ve met Heath a time or two, I take it?”
“Yes. He, Thom, Siobhan, and Caryl actually stayed at the mansion for a few weeks a few months ago when we were interviewing new guards.”
“How do you feel about them?”
“The guards?”
“No, the Sídhe.”
Lora chuckled. “I like the ladies. They can be a bit silly at times, but I think that’s just a front so people underestimate them.”
Yeah, they were definitely silly, and Simone would offer up Siobhan’s very eclectic iTunes playlist as evidence of that. “And the guys?”
“Drive me nuts.”
“Ditto, but any particular reason why?”
“It’s not just the Sídhe, but all of them. The chieftains included. They’re disorganized. Inefficient.”
“I’d say that’s men in general.”
“I’d say you’re right.”
“So, you don’t have any particular aversions to anyone?”
“Simone…”
She cringed at the sound of Heath’s voice and whipped around to see him standing in the doorway.
Shaking his head, he clucked his tongue. “Fishing for info?”
“Can you blame me? And did you do away with Lora?”
“No, Lora is standing right here. She’s going to go pull some shirts off the shelves for you, though. Seems like you’re having a hard time.”
Simone couldn’t see her, but she heard Lora’s sigh.
He stepped into the stall and closed the curtain.
Simone gulped and fidgeted the price tag of her fancy stretchy jeans. “There’s really only room for one person in here.”
“It’s a mite uncomfortable, having two, isn’t it?” He smirked. “The sooner you try on, the sooner you can leave.”
“I think I’m done.”
“Looks like you’ve got one more to go.” He crooked his thumb toward the dark rinse pair still clinched on its hanger.
“So I do. Get out.”
“Are you afraid I’ll actually like what I see?”
“Don’t try to use reverse psychology on me. Doesn’t work.” She stepped aggressively out of the pair she was wearing and hung them by the belt loop onto a hook. Like hell if she cared if he saw her panties. She didn’t care one damn bit.
He maneuvered around her and sat on the tiny bench, spreading his legs to give her room to move…between them.
She stared at him.
He kept grinning, leaned his back against the mirrored wall, and crossed his arms over his chest.
“Are you just going to sit there and watch?”
“That was my plan.” His gaze slipped down to her thighs, which—naturally for an almost-thirty-year-old whose only cardio came from wrestling bedspreads—touched and had more jiggle than a bowl of school cafeteria JELL-O.
“Already making mental notes about what you’d like to change on me, I’m sure.” She grabbed the last pair of jeans and worked the button out of the tight hole. It took her three tries.
“Slow and easy, Princess,” Heath said in a low voice. “All you need to make it fit is a little finesse. You’ve got to move it the right way so the hole stays snug for it.” He wasn’t looking at the jeans’ fastener at all, but her face. His smug grin was gone, but there was hunger in his eyes. Apparently, he liked JELL-O. “The only thing I’d change about you is your doubt of me. It really is wearying.”
She swallowed and stepped into the pants. When she started to button them, Heath nudged her hands away. He worked the zipper up slowly and rolled that aquamarine gaze up to her face as he buttoned. “Perfect fit.”
“They’re a little tight.”
“Aye.” He set his hands on her hips and pressed them around to her backside. “But they fit.”
“Uh. Might split at the seams if I bend over.” She shyly nudged his hands away only for him to put them right back on her ass.
“I doubt it. I think they’ll even survive the vibrations of my bike.”
“Something I hope to never experience again.” She pushed his hands down and wondered if them being on her thighs was any better. She decided no and cinched his wrists. “You drive like a madman.”
He worked her legs farther apart, obviously not catching the clues of her discomfort. It wasn’t that she minded him touching her. Actually, she was flattered he would want to, and realizing that stirred her anxiety. She’d thought she didn’t give a damn what he thought, but she did, and she wanted to know what was going through that head of his when he touched her like that.
“I can go slow when I want to.” He pressed, then kneaded the meat of her ass, insinuating her more firmly in the vee his legs made. “I think you like being on my bike. Having your body pressed against me. Having nowhere else to go. No room to squirm, because if you do, I’ll feel you.”
She pressed her lips tight and shook her head. Protest, protest, protest. Perhaps there was something undeniably sexual about riding on the back of the man’s bike and having no choice but to hold onto him and clench him between her thighs. She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t felt some pride at being on his bike and not one of the others’. He was obnoxious and unctuous, but… Gods, he was sexy. He was show-him-off sexy. And apparently, he was hers…assuming he could be anyone’s at all. She wasn’t so sure a wild element like him could be captured. That bright gaze seemed to bore right through her as if he were reading the thoughts ping-ponging around in her head and strategizing a plan of attack. Potentially, a sexual one. A few days ago, she’d been pretty desperate for a good lay, and suddenly she had a guy calling himself her spouse. She should have wanted sex from him. That was half his job, wasn’t it? Maybe a little more than half. If she could just get him alone and on his back and—
Shaking her head hard, she took a small step back from him and unbuttoned the jeans. What is wrong with me? “Um. I think they’ll fit once they’re broken in for a few wears.”
“Get them. And the others. And anything else you need.”
“Okay. You can…you can go.”
“Why?” He eased down her zipper. “I thought you might need some help redressing.”
“I’ve been dressing myself since preschool. I think I can manage it.”
“You can, but why should you? I’m right here.” He nestled his fingers beneath the waistband and wriggled the jeans down inch by inch, pausing to kiss the skin he exposed. Her hipbones. The inside tops of her thighs.
Oh, God. She sucked in some air when he kissed her pubic mound through her panties. “You’re going to get yourself into trouble.” Going to get me in trouble. She was so hot, so needy, so desperate to be touched, and the condition seemed to be brought on by a certain smug fairy’s vicinity. She let out a little growl.
“Mmm, I like that,” he whispered. “I’m hoping for a litt
le trouble, actually.” He pushed the pants down the rest of the way and bade her to step out of them.
“You’re insufferable.”
“I don’t see you running.”
Why run? Her body was telling her to do the exact opposite. He was right there and probably wouldn’t mind if she got a little closer. What was a little naked lap-sitting between a prince and his princess?
Closing her eyes, she balled her hands into fists and let the sting of her nails against her palms chase back the mounting delirium of lust. “I try not to draw too much attention to myself.”
“Yeah?” He nudged the crotch of her panties aside and rolled that glorious blue gaze up to her. So beautiful. “You’re drawing plenty of attention from me.”
She slapped his hand away. “Quit it.”
“Why? Because you don’t want me to see? To touch? Is it the impropriety of the situation?” He roved his fingers beneath the elastic again, this time dancing them over her slit.
“This…this definitely falls into the realm of indecorous acts.” Contrary to her repeated objections, she found herself spreading her legs a bit for him. Found herself holding his hand there.
He rubbed her clit, keeping that far-too-knowing gaze locked onto her.
Tensing, she clamped her bottom lip between her teeth and suppressed a moan.
“Aye, you like it when I touch you.”
Gods, yes. She put her head back and curled her toes against the rug. “You’re simply pushing all the right buttons. I’m sure you’ve had a lot of practice touching women.”
“You’re the only woman I’m concerned about.”
“For the…” She tipped her head back and gasped as orgiastic fulfillment beckoned her. So close, but she couldn’t. She gritted her teeth and curled her toes even more, taking a deep breath. “For the moment, right?”
“Forever. I keep telling you you’re stuck with me. Try to see the advantages, love.”
Oh, she was seeing them. Feeling them, rather, if that’s what that arousing warmth invading her body was.
He kept working her clit with his thumb and slid fingers into her opening. “You’re Sídhe. We have a very long time to make up for past indiscretions, don’t you agree?”
“Just how many of those indiscretions have you had?” Her voice was breathy, body pulled tight as a bowstring.
His hand stopped. Eyes narrowed. “How many have you had?” There was a bit of venom in his voice—as if he’d never considered that there might have been someone before him.
“Not nearly enough. And how dare you take offense?”
“I’m Sídhe.” Yeah, that’s what they needed. A nice little spat to cool their respective libidos.
“We’ve established that several times over.”
“I don’t particularly wish to think that anyone else has come near you.”
“I’m knocking on thirty’s door. Of course men have come near me, and at my request, too.”
He resumed his fingering, though his maneuvers were decidedly less exploratory now. They were practically vengeful in their thrusts, as if meant to undo her, and given the fact her legs had started wobbling, she suspected they were perfectly capable of doing that.
She planted her hands on his shoulders and squeezed hard.
He clamped her nipple through her shirt with his teeth. He pulled her even closer, kneading her ass while fingering her, whispering what sounded like threats against her chest. Whether the threats were targeted to her former lovers or simply what he intended to do to her later, she couldn’t tell, but his harsh words had her so hot—so wanting—she started riding his fingers with gusto.
He inserted one more, and her toes cramped against the carpet.
“Heath!” Damn it. She clamped her hands over her mouth to stifle her shout, and he didn’t stop until she drooped over him.
He slipped his fingers out of her and chuckled. “Maybe soon there’ll be enough room for me inside you.”
Gods, he’d probably fuck her into oblivion. Judging by the frightening lump inside his jeans, he’d obliterate her ability to ride a bike, walk, and possibly even breathe.
Cheeks burning, she grabbed her sweatpants from the floor. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”
“Why shouldn’t I? I do plan on making love to my own wife at some point, hopefully soon. It’s a logical venture.” He slipped his fingers, slick with her wetness, between his lips and licked them clean while she stood there gawping at him. “Tell me you don’t want to fuck me.”
“I’ve never been a liar.” The words came out before she could slam her filter down on them. She balled her hands into fists and pounded her thighs. “Quit messing with my energy. You’re screwing with me somehow.”
“Nope. That’s all you. Why do you find it so appalling that you’d be attracted to me and would want to act on that?”
She opened her mouth to tell him, but realized she didn’t really have an answer. She shoved her feet into her shoes, grabbed the jeans she wanted, and walked out.
He chuckled. “You’re denying yourself simply because you didn’t pick me for yourself.”
She stopped in the corridor. Was that it?
Lora, at the counter, arched that eyebrow at her again.
“You don’t like being pulled around,” Heath said. “That’s obvious, and I understand. You don’t want to let yourself feel anything because you think it isn’t real. Doesn’t matter how we got together.” The bench creaked. He must have stood, but she didn’t turn to check. “The fact is, we are together, and we’re going to stay that way. The sooner you come to grips with that idea, the happier you’ll be. Dig deep enough into that confused psyche of yours and you’ll know I’m telling the truth.”
She continued to the counter, face burning hot as a torch, and laid the pants atop it.
Lora cleared throat. “So…do you want me to pick up the other colors those come in, too?”
Simone nodded after a moment. It took a while to process the simple question. The man had both her brain and libido in knots.
Heath joined her and hooked his chin over her shoulder as she stood there watching the clerk fit her purchases into the suitcase. He wrapped his arms around her waist, clenching her in a manner that was both possessive and casual. “How are you doing, Hester?”
The clerk nudged her glasses up and shrugged. “Fair to middling, thanks to the energy you spared me last time you were here. I didn’t get to thank you, but my doctor said my iron levels were much better than usual.”
Spared energy?
“What did you do to her?” Simone whispered when the woman turned back to the suitcase.
He put his lips to her ear, igniting a cascade of shivers down her spine. “I can’t hold on to excess energy indefinitely. I either have to give it back to who I took it from, siphon it off through ritual, or occasionally, transfer it someone who’s short on it. It’s rare that I can do that. Energy’s not always compatible.”
“How did you know to do that?”
“I’m an energy reader. With magic folk, I can usually tell who’s a little short on it, even if I can’t figure out why. Their essences feel a bit weak to me, sort of like appliances that become less efficient after periods of long use. I help where I can.”
“That was kind of you.” It pained her to admit it—to give him any compliment at all. Softening to him meant accepting this thing she was, and she wasn’t ready to do that.
“I try to be kind more often than not. I wish you’d see that.”
“Maybe it’s hard to through all that fairy practicality.”
“The fact that I’m a fairy is the reason I want to help. We’re supposed to help. That’s what the magic’s for. We just got away from using it for that. I’d like to see things go back to the way they were.”
“Wouldn’t the status quo be easier?”
“Aye, Princess. Easy things are rarely worth having.” He skimmed those soft, luscious lips against her jaw and scribbled his signature on the cred
it card slip. “So there’s no wonder you’re mine, is there?”
Chapter Eleven
Heath stuck his head under the shower spray and let out a long, sputtering breath. He did all his best thinking in the shower, and he had a real predicament to ponder this time. In all the years he’d been leading his crew, Thom had always been around to clean up Heath’s messes, and Heath had just let the Afótama queen borrow the guy for two weeks. Contessa was heading out on a search for her missing brother, and being perennially short on guards, needed someone she trusted, and in a pinch. Heath couldn’t say no. The woman was pregnant with a child that would be his second cousin, and fairies took care of their own.
It was just two weeks, and the crew was hunkered down back in North Carolina, anyway, but the separation would really drive home the fact that things were going to change sooner than later. They’d all start pairing off and doing their own things, assuming Mum didn’t try to reclaim those with time remaining on their conscription periods. His whole life for longer than he cared to remember had been the crew, and that was changing now. He was glad for it—for having been gifted with a woman like Simone—but at the same time, uncertain of his next steps. He couldn’t just be a fairy prince. There had to be something more. Perhaps he needed to resume old hobbies.
The bathroom door creaked open, and the influx of air made the shower curtain cling to his legs.
“Heath,” came Simone’s voice. “Your phone rang. I hope you don’t mind that I answered. I thought it might have been Lora calling up about dinner.”
The Afótama had kindly allowed Heath and Simone to spend the night. They were due to fly back east in the morning, leaving at the same time as Thom and Contessa with her search party.
“Was it Lora?” he asked.
“No, it’s Siobhan. She’s on the line.”
“Oh. Could you set the phone on the counter and put it on speaker?” He had yet to get a good lather in his hair. So greasy. He liked it that way, usually. It stayed in place better than his hair when it was groomed, but seeing as how Simone was verbally abusive toward his look, he’d turn over a new leaf. Maybe it would go a small way in proving to her that he was serious about wanting to make her happy.
Beyond The Veil: A Paranormal & Magical Romance Boxed Set Page 83