by Mina Carter
He'd been pissed off at the time, even more pissed off than he had been at the start of the evening. Pressured into the auction in the first place he'd refused to go the full monty and do the strip routine the guys had wanted. Red satin thong and all.
No way, no how. He wouldn't have put it past one of them to be taking photos from the back of the room and then they'd be plastered all over the walls in the staff room at work. Cy might be a little gullible at times, but he wasn't that stupid.
His irritation had grown deeper when no one at the table seemed to know who she was, giving him blank looks when he'd asked about the gorgeous brunette with the 'take me to bed' eyes and sinful lips.
Her lashes swept over her eyes as she looked down. Right to where his hand cupped his crotch. "Do you need to use the little boys room?" she asked coolly, a flash of amusement in her chocolate-sherry eyes. "I...ugh."
Shit. Cy snatched his hand away from his crotch as bright colour flared across his cheeks. He ignored it as his natural confidence surged back. His eyes dared her to keep looking and, if she did, to comment on the semi-erection starting to tent his jeans. Far from being embarrassed now he wanted her to notice it, wanted her to comment.
Her eyes widened, darted away, flicked back for a second, then settled on his face. Cy's lips quirked in amusement. If the sight of a semi like that got her flustered, he'd love to see what would happen if he whispered the wicked things he wanted to do to her in her ear. Starting with stripping that tight little dress from her luscious tits right here on the porch and suckling her nipples until she was moaning in pleasure.
"No, I'm fine, thank you. I believe we have a date this evening?"
Cy straightened up and flashed her his best smile. The one which normally had the ladies panting and ready to do anything he wanted. To his surprise, it had totally the opposite effect. Her lovely eyes shuttered over and she smiled a small, brittle smile.
“We do indeed. Let me just get my coat."
When she reappeared she was wrapped shoulders to mid-calf in a voluminous trench-coat Cy took an immediate dislike to. Not only was it hideous but it hid her wonderful figure. A figure Cy wanted to see more of...much more of. Preferably without that red dress, lovely was it was, on.
She'd be all satin skin over those glorious curves. Curves he intended to take his time exploring and finding all the spots that made her squirm in pleasure. The fun he'd have finding things out about her. Did she prefer her nipples licked or sucked? Would she be a moaner or a screamer as he made her come with his lips and tongue? Would she gasp as he filled her with his cock over and over again?
"My lady, if you'll allow me?"
Cy locked his thoughts away in a corner of his mind and offered her his arm, trying his best to be gallant. Not easy when she was looking at him as though he'd just crawled out from under a rock. That wasn't something he was used to. For a pixie Cy was considered good looking. Pretending to be human with dyed hair and the whole pixie/fae sexual edge going on, he was devastating. Something he accepted without question or vanity, but something he was more than happy to use to his advantage, especially with a woman like this.
For a moment he allowed a fantasy of what would have happened if she'd been a pixie to fill his mind. They'd have met at a clan gather—perhaps to celebrate a wedding or truce—and he'd have moved heaven and earth to possess her. Even to the point of starting a war so he could claim her as his own.
Might made right. The Pixie code. If you could take it and hold onto it, you could keep it. "Of course."
She placed a delicately boned hand on his arm. A shiver shot through Cy. The heat that had been banking up, fuelled by his thoughts, broke free of its constraints and flared into a full blown inferno at her touch.
The gasp which left his lips was as unexpected as it was unintentional. Play boy extraordinare Cy usually had better control than that. Even more surprising was her echoing intake of breath.
A buzz of awareness arched between them.
Cy turned his head and caught her eye. Again her eyes widened and, this time, anger filled them as she pulled her hand away.
"Let's get on with it, shall we?" she asked, breaking away from him to stride down the short path to his car.
What the fuck? She'd felt that too, he'd seen it in her eyes. Cy followed her like a puppy on a leash—all the while trying not to imagine what her ass looked like under all that material.
He failed. Miserably.
"Flashy. Guess you don't have a family."
The comment dripped acid. Cy frowned. Where had that come from? And the anger? Had he done something to upset her? Impossible, he'd only arrived a few minutes ago and even he couldn't piss off a woman that quick. Had he met her before and pissed her off somehow?
"No," he said, his voice clipped. "I don't have a family."
*
The drive to the restaurant was painfully silent. Cy kept stealing glances at his passenger. She sat in silence, no attempt to engage him in conversation. She just looked out of the window.
Cy's confusion grew. She was acting like she didn't want to be here. If she didn't then why the hell had she bid on the date with him?
His annoyance grew by the minute, swelling and filling him. Cy was a hot-head, always had been. He couldn't keep things bottled up for long and, sure enough, within minutes he cracked.
"Okay. Time out," Cy announced as he swung the sleek sports car out of the flow of traffic. He pulled up, yanked the handbrake on and looked at her. As he did he tried to school his expression to cool, calm and collected. So what if he thought she was the sexiest thing on the planet? If she wasn't into him, she wasn't into him.
"So do you want to carry on? Or should I turn the car around and take you home now?"
Finally she turned her head and the darkness in her eyes took his breath away. Then she shook her head and smiled. Well, she attempted a smile. Cy wasn't fooled. Someone, somewhere had hurt this woman and hurt her badly.
"Of course I want to carry on. Why else do you think I paid for the date?"
Chapter Three
Oh my god, he was gorgeous. More so than he had been the other night on stage, if that was possible. His hair was dark and cropped so close to the scalp it was hard to tell exactly what colour it was. Teresa curled her hands into her lap and fought the urge she'd been having since she'd first seen him at her door. The urge to reach out and run her hands over his head was overwhelming. An image of his dark head against the pale skin of her breast filled her mind. She could almost imagine the warmth of his mouth as his lips closed around her nipple. Teresa bit back a moan.
She'd always had a thing about guys with short, short hair. The ones with tattoos and attitude. Perhaps it was a self defence mechanism. She had fallen so easily for her charming liar of a 'husband' that she'd totally the other way. Whatever, there was just something about the bad boy image Cy exuded that just did it for her. Although there was no way she was ever admitting that to him, or anyone.
His hair was dark but his eyes were a bright electric blue. So blue she was sure they couldn't be natural. He had to be wearing contacts.
Teresa snuck another glance out of the corner of her eye. The car was low slung and powerful. He lounged with indolent grace behind the wheel, his movements masterful as he wove the car in and out of the traffic towards their destination.
His hands caressed the wheel as they made a sharp left turn into the car-park, the dark tattoos across the backs stark against his skin. Teresa shivered as a longing to have those hands stroking over her body filled her.
She fought it down. What on earth was wrong with her? Cy was just the type of guy she should avoid. Although he had the bad boy image she was sure it was a front. He was handsome and successful if the car was any indication. They'd said he was a waiter but she didn't believe that was what he really was.
Probably some rich kid living off daddy's money as he went through a rebellious phase. And as soon as he was out of it, laser surgery would take care
of those tattoos and he'd be back into designer threads before you could blink. If he worked, and that was a big if, it would no doubt be in a luxury office somewhere as a suit. Maybe daddy owned a bank or something. Not the sort who'd be interested in a middle aged mother of two who was carrying a few extra pounds. No, he was the sort whose arm would be decorated with the latest upcoming stick insect starlet who was heavy on the breast implants and light on the brains.
Christ, if she didn't stop with the little glances from under her hair Cy was going to stop the damn car here and now, pull her into his lap and kiss her senseless. The quick looks were filled with an interest and speculation totally absent when he was looking at her. But when she thought he wasn't it was all there and more.
He swung the car between the rows in the car-park looking for a spot and refused to feel self conscious about parking the car himself. If she was looking for a place with valet parking then she really had the wrong guy. Finally he spotted one. Right at the back it was half hidden by the bushes surrounding the car park and shielded from the restaurant by a large SUV. A sly smile crossed his lips as he headed that way. Perfect.
Cy slid from the driver's seat with as much nonchalance as he could muster. Which wasn't much given what he was about to do. So what if she was married? Cy avoided thinking about her husband, if the man was weak willed enough to let her out on a date with him, then he deserved to lose her.
Might made right.
She'd bid on a date with a bad boy, so a bad boy was what she was going to get. In spades. Skirting around the trunk of the car he opened her door smoothly and extended a hand to help her out. Her feet emerged first, delicate and finely boned they were set off to perfection in the strappy sandals she wore.
Her toenails weren't painted the sort of dark colour Cy was used to. Instead they had a slight sheen and sparkle to them. The sort of nails that said she hadn't primped and preened for hours before she'd met him at the door.
It was different and Cy liked it. Right about now, although he'd never particularly had a foot fetish before, he could happily have kissed those delicate feet. En-route to other, more interesting areas of course.
Slender calves followed, then knees. The red velvet of her dress was hiked up and revealed curvy thighs that made Cy's mouth water. Sod the table he'd booked, all he wanted to do was lay her back on the hood, spread her legs and eat his fill of a far sexier dessert than any on the menu inside.
His date emerged from the car like a butterfly emerging from a chrysalis. She was petite, far shorter than him even in heels but Cy didn't care. He'd always had a thing for smaller women.
Smaller women with curves just like hers. None of the underfed rakes who threw themselves at him in the club, assuming every man found them irresistibly. No, give him a woman with padding on her bones, a woman he wouldn't break if he got a little...rough in bed. Or against a wall. Or across a car hood.
*
Despite his dark and brooding bad boy image Cy turned out to be highly articulate and an excellent dinner partner. He also knew how to use the cutlery and didn't slurp his soup as some of the other diners appeared to assume given the looks they shot towards the couple's table. Teresa sighed. Some people just couldn't see past appearances.
"So..." she said after the waiter left their table with the dessert order. Nothing for Cy and, of course, Death by Chocolate for her. They seemed to be getting on so she felt comfortable asking a question which was a little more personal. "What are all the tattoos about? You have a fair few and they don't seem to be the normal 'love/hate' tattoo's you see. They're actually quite beautiful..."
She trailed off at his suddenly set look. From a charming conversationalist he suddenly clammed up and went quiet, his expression wary. He didn't answer as a small party walked past them towards a table at the back of the restaurant.
Realising her blunder she dabbed at her lips with her napkin. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry."
He shook his head. "No, you're not prying. I...don't talk about them much." His voice was quiet and careful. Teresa frowned.
"Are you embarrassed about them, is that why? You know you can get tattoos removed these days? Laser surgery I think they use."
"No!" His reaction was as sharp as it was emphatic. The fingers of his left hand rubbed almost protectively over the knuckles of the other. "I'm not embarrassed about them at all..." He looked at her curiously. "You really don't realise do you?"
"Realise what?"
His lips quirked into a small smile that ignited the fire that had been simmering all night. She shivered and looked away, unable to hold his gaze. Within seconds though, she was looking back at him, as though the sight of him was magnetic.
"That I'm not human."
"You're not? Why, what are you then?"
Her look of surprise was so complete that, had it been any other subject they were discussing Cy would have laughed. But it wasn't any subject. It was him. What he was. Something he rarely discussed with anyone. Most of the people he kicked about with were paranormals, were part paranormal or had been around the scene long enough to realise what he was without asking.
Despite the clans trying to clean their acts up there was still a large amount of discrimination against Pixies. They were known as the thugs of the paranormal world. A reputation not entirely undeserved. Pixie clans or pixies in general, could be nasty as all hell.
He took a deep breath and looked at her. "I'm a Pixie. From upstate but my clan...let's just say I don't have much in the way of family anymore." Cy tried to keep his voice level but fell short of the mark. No matter how much he tried, the loneliness and bitterness he felt at his exile always crept into the words. Someone as sensitive as Teresa was bound to pick up on it.
"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that." She reached over and touched his hand gently, her dark eyes sincere. Then she smiled. "So, pixies? What...like on toa—"
Cy moved like lightening. His finger on her lips stopped her sentence instantly. "Please, no toadstool jokes. I'd have to spank you," he joked, his eyes warm. Teresa wasn't entirely sure whether he was joking or not but just the idea of being spanked sent a shiver through her. In fact, the idea of his hand anywhere on her sent fire racing through her veins.
"Careful," she threw back, growing more confident in the light teasing and flirting. It was a minor miracle in itself since Mario had done such a good job on trashing her self confidence. "I might enjoy it and then where would you be?"
"Oh, you'd enjoy it. So would I," he breathed, tracing the outline of her lips with a gentle finger. The blue of his eyes darkened to navy, the look in them hot enough to make Teresa blush. She dropped her gaze, looking down into her lap.
"I bet you say that to all the women," she laughed, shrugging the comment off. "But thank you. I'm sure you'd much rather be out with a pretty blonde thing rather than a middle-aged, plump mother of two."
"You think?" He arched his eyebrow, still watching her intently as he leaned forwards. "Sweetheart, if I told you what I would rather be doing...with you...you'd run for cover. Come on...let's get out of here."
Even though she hadn't had her dessert Teresa didn't argue. Mind you, she didn't have much of a choice since Cy rose to his feet and headed for the door leaving her to trail after him. He paused for a moment by the cashier's desk so she caught up with him for all of a second before he enveloped his fingers in hers and pulled her outside into the cool night air.
"You look fantastic." His murmured compliment as they reached the car took her as much by surprise but not as much as his next move. Still holding her hand he pulled her hard against him. One hand slid across the back of her hips to prevent her escaping. Teresa gasped as she felt the rampant hardness of his erection press into her. His other hand slid into the nape of her neck, his fingers winding around the silken strands of her hair as he tilted her face up to just the right angle for his kiss.
Her body stiffened as her hands slammed into the solid wall of his chest. Cy paused and looked down into her eye
s. Anger and surprise flared there as they locked into a silent battle of wills. Would she let him kiss her? He hoped so, because he wanted to taste her lips more than he wanted to breathe right now.
"I'm going to kiss you," he warned, hearing the hitch in his own voice and marveling that one human woman could reduce him to such a mass of need. He leaned down, holding her eyes, until his lips were a bare whisper away from hers. She didn't move, frozen in place and her dark eyes on his. Dark eyes that smoldered not with anger any more, but need and longing.
Cy groaned. He couldn't resist her.
His lips brushed over hers as he tried to school himself to be gentle. She was human, not pixie. Not used to the demands of a full-blooded warrior as a woman of his race would be. So he would be gentle. Maybe. As much as he could.
Then disaster struck. Far from hardening under his as he'd expected, and pulling away at the first opportunity, her lips softened in silent invitation. Surprise running through his larger frame Cy flicked his tongue along her full lower lip.
She relaxed, her hands gentling on his chest as her lips parted. Just a fraction but it was enough. No way was he going to pass up even the smallest invitation from this woman.
Pressing her back against the side of the car Cy took control of the kiss. His hands drove into her hair, scattering pins as his tongue parted her lips and gained access to the sweet inner recesses of her mouth. It was heaven. Warm silk and just a touch of whiskey laced coffee.
Desire throbbing through him Cy lifted his head. "Whiskey?" She hadn't had an alcoholic drink over dinner and certainly not whiskey. "You needed Dutch courage before our date?"
She opened passion-darkened eyes and the look in them speared Cy. His nipples under the thin tee-shirt peaked and rubbed against the fabric, the silver rings through them growing colder by the minute. Pleasure arced through his body, his cock hardening another painful notch and rubbing against the inside of his jeans.