One Knight Only_SKelly

by Sahara Kelly

  She hadn't even gone that route lately. Perhaps everything had been waiting, slowing down, conserving its energy for this moment.

  For Tad.

  He'd better be hell on wheels in bed, thought Drina. Otherwise, a lot of time and effort would have been wasted. But somehow, having seen him almost nude, she sensed his performance would come close to his advance billing.

  He'd got a body she could really appreciate, and she'd bet some of her best-performing stocks that he knew exactly what to do with it when it came to making a woman moan. And she still had several hours to go before she could put her theory to the test.

  Shit.

  "Drina."

  His sharp tone drew her attention from her decadent fantasies and back into the moment. "What?"

  "Stop daydreaming and tell me what the f...what the hell I'm supposed to do with this..." He glared angrily at a wide leather belt dangling ineffectively around his hips. "I got the other stuff on right I think, but this has no holes or anything."

  She chuckled. "Come out here so I can see. That's a baldric. It's not supposed to have holes."

  As Tad left the stall, Drina walked over to the equipment table and picked up an odd pocket-shaped piece of leather. When he stopped next to her, she gestured at the leather strap. "It goes over one shoulder and down to your other hip."

  He growled under his breath. "Damn thing should come with instructions."

  Unfastening what he'd attempted, he willingly let Drina take the ends. She slipped the leather pocket over the strap and then rested it on one of his shoulders, looping and threading the leather through the D-ring loop of metal. Then she arranged the pocket low on his hip and moved away, returning with a respectably sized sword. "Here. The pocket is called a frog and it holds the scabbard of everything from a dagger to this bad boy."

  He frowned. "Kinda small blade, isn't it? I wanted one of those." He nodded at the massive broadswords hanging in a shining row on the wall next to the table.

  "You're a squire. Get over it." She grinned as she watched him slip the sword into place within the pocket and adjust it. "Besides, haven't you heard? Size doesn't matter."

  He snorted. "Yeah right. Tell that to my last girlfriend."

  "Aww." She played along. "Not enough...oomph?"

  He narrowed his eyes at her. "Plenty of oomph. Not enough interest."

  "Ouch."

  He tilted his head to one side. "I'm taking a lot for granted, I suppose. I never asked if you were in a relationship or anything."

  She matched his look. "Are you?"

  "No."

  "Well, there you are then."

  Their gazes locked and Drina didn't seem able to tear hers away. The day was warm and Tad was sweating a little, his hair curling damply on his forehead. In the medieval costume, he was no longer the good-looking businessman—he had become the marauding warrior. In spite of the sun's warmth, she shivered. His cheeks were showing a little stubble and she couldn't help wondering what it would feel like against her naked body.

  "Drina..." It was a whisper and he moved, his hungry stare licking over her face like fire.

  "No, don't...not now..." She held out her hand to stay him, not sure if she could control her impulses should he touch her at that moment. "Go find your horse. His name's Mischief. It's on the stall." She spun around, breaking free of him at last. "Please, Tad. Go."

  She held her breath and then released it as she heard him walk away. This whole plan was going to be a lot harder and possibly a great deal more intense than she'd supposed.

  Tad was a grown man now and she hadn't figured that particular occurrence into her equations. She'd been operating on her memories of him and forgetting to take into account the potential reality. For the first time she could remember, Drina felt a slight tingle of apprehension.

  Was it possible she had made a serious miscalculation?

  Only time would tell...

  Chapter Four

  To his astonishment, Tad enjoyed his outing as a medieval squire more than he'd expected. In fact, a ten year old boy probably wouldn't have had any more fun or been more thrilled by the whole deal.

  As he stripped off his finery after the last joust of the day, he realized he ached a bit from the unusual exercise, but it was a good healthy ache. An ache he could easily overlook while lying between the white thighs of his woman.

  He chuckled to himself as he took a brief lukewarm shower in the tiny curtained stall, and then slipped back into his everyday clothing. The life of a warrior encouraged thoughts of pillaging and plundering. And Drina was absolutely top of his list of potential targets. Actually, she was the entire list. He wanted to pillage her for an hour or so and then plunder her some more. His cock was twitching, reminding him that it was going to be a major player in the action to come.

  Yeah, he was definitely going to rock that little lady's world. Confidently, he strode from the stable looking for his quarry, only to step in a pile of ripe horse pucky.

  He cursed fluidly and spent the next five minutes wiping off his shoe. Multiple times. Damn stuff was worse than super glue. Finally poop-free—and if not as fresh as a daisy, at least not surrounded by a cloud of flies—he headed toward the main path where the final procession was winding down, marking the imminent closing of the Faire.

  The royal couple and their colorful entourage had made their way through the town, waving and nodding to their guests and delighting tired kids who were more than ready to hit the road for home.

  It had been a warm day and the air was thick with the scent of food, sweat and horses, with a hint of mulch and raw wood. The humidity had risen and the stalls themselves were sweating their natural fragrances. Even the trees looked tired. No wonder the medieval world went to bed early.

  The horses had been cared for, the clothing shaken and brushed, and some would be laundered overnight. The shops were pulling down their barricades and bolting their doors, and in the "other" realm, credit card slips and register receipts were being tallied and the financial success of the day's sales measured against expectations.

  Tad hoped it had been as good a day for the vendors as it had been for him. He was definitely looking forward to doing it all again tomorrow, even though his role simply required a bit of riding around, a minor amount of sword waving and several loud "Huzzahs". He couldn't help noticing a few of the buxom wenches who had made a point of catching his eye. Yep, there was definitely something most appealing to this whole knight business.

  However, it was now time to turn his attention fully to the woman he planned on seducing over dinner. Or maybe even over appetizers. The task was one that he found every bit as enticing as riding behind a Knight of the Realm. And a great deal more attractive. One horse's ass looked much like another's, when you came right down to it.

  Drina was disappearing into the pseudo-castle behind the royal party. She'd told him this was where she'd change and they'd made arrangements to meet in the parking lot. She lived not far from the fairgrounds and usually walked home, but tonight Tad was driving her to dinner.

  At least that was the plan.

  Nodding at the few people he knew from the afternoon's activities, Tad made his way through the turnstile and back into the twenty-first century, where his mount waited patiently in the glow of the setting sun. He was glad he'd cracked a window down a little, since otherwise the interior would singe his backside for the first few minutes. Even leather heated up, no matter what any dealer tried to tell him, and he refused to cover it with some kind of insulating cushion. That was for wimps and wusses.

  He was neither. His butt could take the heat. Thankfully, the passenger side was in shadow now, so Drina's delightful ass would be saved the hotplate effect. He planned on heating that portion of her anatomy another way.

  He caught sight of the grin on his face as he bent to unlock the Audi and surprised himself. He looked damn wicked. And kinda medieval, in spite of the casual shirt and slacks. He rubbed his cheek and wondered if he should find
a way to grab a quick shave.

  Then he heard his name called and turned—only to forget all about shaving, driving, hot leather and just about everything else.

  Drina was walking toward him.

  "You did quite respectably, Tad. Thank you."

  He straightened and moved around the car to open the door for her. "It would probably be more gracious and effective if you didn't sound like you were surprised." His grin took the sting out of his words.

  Surprisingly, she laughed back as she settled herself into the car, her legs smooth and shapely beneath the shorts she'd changed into. Tad nobly tried his best to ignore her breasts, cupped lovingly by a skimpy top that tied behind her neck. Her hair was clipped away from her face, giving him a mouthwatering view of shoulders and bare skin.

  He managed not to drool, but it was close for a moment or two.

  "I apologize. But honestly? You did surprise me. I'd thought you were too full of your own importance to consider doing something like that. My mistake."

  "Apology accepted." Tad fastened his seatbelt. "You don't know me, Drina. I'm not the kid who acted like a jerk in Junior High. At least I hope I'm not." He frowned a little as he started the engine. "Jesus. That would be beyond awful."

  She laughed again. "It's okay. You're not. And neither am I, of course. We've both changed, lived different lives, matured I guess." She flashed him a glance. "Although your face when you rode into the tournament field—well, kid in a candy store pretty much covers it."

  He nodded. "Yeah, it figures." Easing the car into gear, Tad began to pick his way carefully around potholes to the exit road. "I had a lot of fun, if you want the truth." He stopped and looked at her. "Which way?"

  "Take a right."

  He eased out onto the highway and picked up a little speed, uncertain of the road in the half-light of dusk. "It's quiet now."

  "Yep. It's a nice time of night. I usually cut through the bogs, but there's no vehicle access that way."

  Tad knew she was referring to the cranberry industry that flourished in this area of southern Massachusetts. The "bogs" weren't really bogs at all, but sand-filled natural depressions in the landscape where the cranberry plants thrived all year. They only got wet when they ripened, since some enterprising soul had discovered a ripe cranberry floats. Floating berries were much easier to harvest and also made for some real pretty postcards.

  "Here. Coming up on the right."

  He slowed and turned again down a bumpy lane. There was a light at the end of it, which turned out to be a lamp above the front door of a traditional Cape Cod saltbox. The roof caught the last rays of the sun as it sloped from a high rear point to the single story in front, a feature which had earned the structure its name way back when people put salt in boxes on their dining room table.

  Sometimes it paid to be an antiques dealer.

  Tad was charmed by the house, small by any standards, but delightful nonetheless. "This is really lovely, Drina. Is it yours?" He pulled the car to a stop and killed the engine, staring at the weathered clapboard and the bright chrysanthemums just beginning to flower in the little garden.

  "Yes. I bought it a few years ago. Did a little bit of renovating, but not much. Just enough for me. It's exactly what I want now. I love it."

  Tad received the message loud and clear. Independent woman with own home. Knights in shining armor need not apply. He turned to her. "The plan was for me to take you to dinner. Is that still on?"

  "Sure." She unfastened her seat belt. "But wouldn't it be easier all around if we ate here? I have salad fixings and steaks. I'll fix green healthy things if you grill." She paused. "Can you grill?"

  He snorted and got out of the car. "I won't even dignify that with a response." His eye drifted past the house and the barn. "Oh wow. You're really close to the cranberry bogs, aren't you?"

  "Yeah. I love the smell of them and I never get tired of watching them change with the seasons."

  She came and stood next to him, looking down past a clump of pine trees to the open space ringed by low mounds where the berries were quietly ripening. Tad couldn't smell the berries, but he could smell her. It heated his guts quicker than a shot of the best Scotch in the world.

  "Walk with me? Down there? Show me?" He held out his hand. "Dinner can wait. I want to see the berries now, before the light goes completely."

  For a moment Drina stared at him, her face insubstantial in the fading twilight. Then she reached out and laid her palm in his. "Okay."

  *~*~*~*

  Drina knew her way to the edge of the bogs as well as she knew the back of her own hand. The landscape fascinated her, changing day by day as the crop of tiny berries obeyed the laws of nature and ripened at its own speed. Responsive to the weather, there would be days when everything seemed to hide beneath shining green leaves, waiting out the cool rains or the heavy showers of a summer thunderstorm.

  Then there were evenings like this one, the haze of crimson just visible atop the plants, clearly signaling that the harvest would be a good one, and soon.

  Drina kept her hand in Tad's as they strolled down through the little patch of wildflowers behind her house and headed toward the open space that held the bogs. There were knots of pine trees, so common in this area, spiking their way up to the sky, pointing at the first few stars beginning to appear.

  Crickets chirped in the evening warmth, still active even though the days were growing shorter. It was warm, and a gentle breeze stirred her hair like soft fingers. Truly a night for lovers, richly sensual, whispering of touches and kisses and stolen moments between a man and a woman.

  Or maybe it was just Drina having some major hots for Tad. That was possible too, but right now she'd rather go with the romantic crap. That way, she could almost ignore the fact her shorts were damp between her legs and her nipples were about as hard as the damn cranberries.

  Finally he drew her to a standstill and tucked her arm beneath his, drawing her close. "Oh yeah. I see why you like this."

  She said nothing, content to let him soak up the ambience, glad he was able to enjoy what she herself relished on many an evening like this.

  He half turned and slid his arm around her, still staring out over the darkening field. "I want you, Drina."

  She swallowed. "I figured that a while ago."

  "I want you now. Here."

  "What?"

  "You heard me." He turned fully, his arm around her, his fingers busy with the tie of her halter top.

  She gasped and crossed her arms over her breasts as the fabric fell away. "Tad...I..."

  "Here. Now. On this softness." He dropped to his knees in front of her. "I want you. And dammit, I need to taste you."

  Stunned, aroused and confused, Drina barely registered that he'd unfastened her shorts until she felt the air hit her bare buttocks. She was hobbled by denim wrapped around her ankles, and Tad's arms wrapped around her knees. And his face nuzzling into a place that was already moist and waiting for his touch beneath a tiny scrap of lace. Her thong was no match for a man determined to get his mouth on her and it snapped within seconds of his fingers tugging at the fragile ribbons holding it together.

  Then he was there, his lips searching, his tongue probing, seeking, finding so many places to tickle and caress—she gasped as he sucked her clit, his tongue working beneath, his hands squeezing her buttocks and pulling her tightly into his face.

  Heedless of the loose top, Drina's hands fell to Tad's head, although whether to push him away or draw him closer, she couldn't tell. She settled for letting his hair drift over her hands and her head fell back as she surrendered to the moment.

  "Mmm." He murmured against her, his hands finding all kinds of erotic places to press and fondle while his incredible mouth continued the magnificently sensual torture of her pussy. "Lift your leg. Put your foot on my shoulder."

  "Tad..." she whispered, barely able to form coherent words. "What if someone should drive past?"

  "Then they'll see you and me and
see you come against my face. And they'll envy both of us." He paused. "Do you hear a car?"

  Her skin tightened and her body trembled as she strained her ears. "No. Do you?"

  "Lift that leg. Now, Drina. Quickly. Before anyone sees you."

  Hurriedly she kicked free of her shorts and raised one thigh, shifting to retain her balance, resting her foot on Tad's shoulder. She let out a little squeal as he used the position to thrust his tongue deep into her cunt. "Shit, Tad. Oh God..."

  She wanted to collapse, to thrust with her hips, to...well, she didn't know what she wanted. Except for Tad to never stop what he was doing. And of course, right at that moment, he pulled away again.

  "Touch your breasts. I want to see you pulling at your nipples, make them hard, honey. Show me. I'll suck you off if you do. And then I'll fuck you, Drina. Will you like that?" His fingers found her clit. "Will you like lying here with me inside you, moving against you, fucking you any way you want, any way I want? Will it be good for you, naked, ass rubbing against the grass or on your knees maybe, with me fucking you from behind..."

  His demands, his blunt words and the images they created—being nude outside with the threat of imminent discovery—Drina had never been this turned on in her life. She couldn't answer with words since her brain couldn't form them and even if she had they would've stuck in her throat. She simply let go.

  Tearing her top free, she cupped her breasts, sighing with pleasure as her forefingers and thumbs found the tiny nubs and pinched them into stinging tenderness. Bolts of hot pleasure shot to her clit and when Tad thrust his way deep inside her and moved his tongue, she cried out. "Tad..."

  He was merciless, working every inch he could reach with his tongue, darting in and out, teasing her clit to the point of pain and then returning to delve into her moist darkness.

  Her hips were moving of their own volition, and her legs tensed as the tell-tale ache began and the ripples of her orgasm began to claim her.