by Billi Jean
* * * *
“This is delicious. I can’t remember having meals like this before, not even at home.” Darren served himself another bowl of stew carefully as if spilling any of it was forbidden. “Are you going to cook every night?”
Maeve smiled at the hopeful note in his voice. The attention over a simple rabbit stew and scones was embarrassing. The men acted as though they’d never been fed before. Brennan thought they all lived in a harsher world than their own. But if that were true, why did Brennan wish to go there? He assured her it was filled with more opportunities—for them both. She wasn’t convinced.
Mouth full, Alrick added, “I’ll set some traps so we have more for tomorrow, eh? The brook looked promising. Any fish in there, Narc?”
Narc—Stephano—muttered a noncommittal answer that no one seemed to notice. She winced at the passion she could hear below the surface. But is it anger, frustration or lust? She wasn’t certain. Perhaps all three.
Since they’d begun their journey, she could sense tension from him. All the other men were fine, none watched her with hawk-eyes, or stared broodingly at her while they rode. Stephano alone kept her on pins and needles. I’m different too. He might still battle an attraction to her, but she definitely found herself unable to keep her eyes off him. Even when she was caught, she couldn’t stop peeking at him.
“Fish might be a good addition,” Brennan commented from across from her.
She focused on him as hard as she could, anything to stop herself from noticing everything about Stephano. Brennan, thankfully, hadn’t noticed anything. She smiled at him when he raised his bowl to her with a nod to the stew. Her heart picked up speed. What will it be like when he’s gone? He loved fish chowder. Or perhaps fishing. Not that he had time for that lately. She was certain he would be off to investigate the brook as soon as the meal was finished. Now that he had help protecting her, he was… She considered him, not sure what it was about him that made her feel he was more relaxed. His shoulders weren’t as stiff. His movements not as careful. He’d begun to joke and smile with the brothers, Garret and Darren.
If he did go fishing, she should follow him, explain that Narc—Stephano she reminded herself—had been acting oddly. But if I do… Brennan wouldn’t be so relaxed. She rarely saw him like this, at ease, eating a meal secure in the knowledge that all was right.
“I managed to hit a few more cronies for tomorrow night.” He eyed the trail that led to the brook as he spoke. “We have enough supplies to make it to the outpost, a few days extra if hard pressed, but it wouldn’t hurt to supplement it now, while the land provides.” He meant that soon they would be in harsher conditions. She swallowed past a dry throat and sipped her water. Soon water would be precious. “Fish chowder, eh? ‘Aeve? It would be a good change, eh?”
She smiled for him. He sounded so eager. Younger, she realized. He looks younger. Have I made his life so hard, then?
“She makes an amazing fish chowder, thick, creamy…”
The men made appreciative sounds, once again telling her how good the stew tasted. She fiddled with hers, pretending to need a drink of water to avoid their compliments. As soon as she set her cup down, Alrick gestured to the fire.
“It’s a lot of work, eh, cooking?” he asked politely. For such a large man, and clearly one of the leaders of this group, he was careful with her. She thought he was tired, somewhat gruff and stern with his two men, but treated Ajax and Stephano as equals. He wore responsibility as if he’d never known a time when he’d not been sure of the correct path. Like but unlike her brother. Brennan was forever leading them correctly. It was her that ruined everything. “I can’t imagine. And you make it look easy.”
Brennan explained for her, “Maeve likes to cook, otherwise, she’s nervous I’ll burn everything.” The men laughed, and muttered as if they understood. All except Stephano.
“I burned a pot boiling water once,” Ajax confessed. “Nearly set the house on fire.”
“You did set the house on fire,” Stephano corrected him.
Her stomach did an odd skip at the sound of his voice. She couldn’t stop finding ways to sneak glances at him. She’d found his hands were as fascinating as the rest of him. He wore a ring. It intrigued her. Silver, with thin lines traced around and around it.
“Aye, well, we won’t have to worry about that,” Brennan assured them, giving her a rare grin. “Maeve will be able to prepare us hot meals until we reach more dangerous lands. Soon enough it will be cold camps. But until then we’ll need to stay strong with solid meals as often as we can. The way is not easy, but for this next few days we can relax.”
She wished she could tell them all that with Brennan leading them they would be home in no time. That he was the best tracker in the realm. That he could provide better than anyone, everything anyone needed to live on. She hung her head, reminded again that for her, speaking would merely make his life harder.
“If you’re willing to make us food like this, I almost wish it would take a few months longer.” Ajax had burnt his fingers taking a scone off the pan, but claimed it’d been worth it. She’d given him two more so he didn’t attempt such a thing again. When she did, she’d noticed Stephano watching her, his eyes pinned to her to the exclusion of all else.
“My sister is the best cook in the realm. She can bake raspberry tarts that Evie claims would make her more money than anything else.” Brennan grinned at her, easing the tension she’d felt building in her bones.
“Tarts?” Alrick gave her a big lopsided grin. “My ma used to make those. Scones like this too, but not as good. Although I’d never claim to have said that,” he added in a low whisper, “when we next see her again.”
She had the feeling his ma was long since gone from this world, but found his flattery enchanting. From him she sensed nothing of the storm building in Stephano. Alrick was merely being kind.
“You have no idea how lucky you are.” Ajax shot Brennan a stern glower. “If I had a sister, I’d be hard pressed to take her on a journey like this.”
“My sister is well-protected.” Brennan stiffened. “And not without her own resources.”
“Aye, no doubting that you’ve protected her.” Ajax grinned but didn’t comment on her own resources. She had none, so she didn’t mind. “You must have been busy, fighting off all her suitors though, eh?” Ajax laughed then, clearly not understanding what his words did to them.
Her stomach clenched and made what she’d managed to eat feel like a hard stone in her stomach. A cold sweat broke out on her forehead and palms. Suitors? Suitors were for stories of knights in shining armor rescuing princesses, not one such as me.
Brennan grunted. His response seemed to work between men. He went back to his stew, Ajax his, and the others started to discuss who got the last scone. All except Stephano. He’d finished his meal and sat with his hands folded across his hard stomach, his long legs out in front of him, crossed at his ankles. His muddy boots took up half the walking space near the fire. She wondered if his feet were burning because there was sweat on his brow.
“Aye, and I say I get the last one for pitching the tents,” Darren muttered.
The scones were causing quite a stir. Garret was also silent, but he was often lost to his own thoughts. Ajax and Darren were being amusing, while Alrick tried to instill some odd logic. Brennan caught her eye and gave her an amused half-smile. She’d hidden a few of the biscuits aside, for their morning meal, but by the way the men were taking their discussion seriously, she considered revealing them and making more in the morning.
“Well, by all accounts, it’s not ours to battle over,” Alrick announced. “Our hostess hasn’t had one. So the discussion is closed.” Alrick picked up the biscuit, presenting it to her. “Remember who thought of you when you’re baking tarts, eh?”
She almost laughed, captivated with him despite the chill Ajax’s teasing has caused. Alrick settled back down in his seat by the fire. His dreams were filled with hope and desire fo
r his own woman and the children they would have together. He was struggling with it, the need to find her, this one woman he felt would complete him.
Ajax, on his left, was different. His dreams were filled with longing, but unclear, unsettled as if he didn’t believe in them or in someone who could live them with him. He was ancient, so old it was unfathomable to her at first. But the weariness was there, the weight of it heavy in his eyes. And the belief that women were fragile, creatures who were easily damaged beyond repair. She wondered why he felt such deep fear over finding a soul mate, but considering his age, perhaps it was obvious. He’d outlived so many—even his fellow warriors.
Darren, next to him, was wild, spontaneous and filled with passion, whether sexual or adrenaline-packed, he felt everything deeply. His brother was his main concern, his only remaining family and more important than anything—even his own happiness. His dreams were of a family too, but those hazy images were far off. Now his life was filled with uncertainties, and for some reason, fear.
His brother Garret was darker, his sleep filled with nightmares that woke him sweating, caught in such painful images he couldn’t break free. Even his fantasies were riddled with pain, loss and betrayal. Except with her. With her, his dreams were filled with gentleness she knew was what he really wanted, what he needed. Soft, warm, loving that eased the soul as much as the body. That’s what most of them longed for, some more extreme, some less so.
They broke her heart.
Stephano, on the other hand, worried her. He was dangerous. He was intense, more…someone who called to her, making it difficult to hold down her own rising needs. She was used to hiding her desires. It was necessary. When it proved too much, she always took care of herself. She had to. But it wasn’t often. Now she feared she’d have to find a way to be alone, and soon.
She couldn’t understand it. At the brook, she’d felt so hot she’d wanted to pull her gown off and stroke her hands down her own flesh until she’d climaxed repeatedly. Instead she’d cooled her face and concentrated on chilling her desires.
Tonight, she would have to go away and ease the fever or else cause the men to feed off her arousal.
She couldn’t tell Brennan she was attracted to Stephano. And Stephano was hiding his attraction too. So that meant if she merely didn’t ever find herself alone with him things should be fine.
But that might be even more dangerous. The build-up could cause him undue pain, even turn him against his friends. She would have to deal with her passion, then sneak away and fulfill his dream fantasies again.
The thought caused a flush of heat. She battled it down. If the men sensed it, all would be ruined. Brennan’s hopes would be ripped from him. They would not reach this new realm. He would never be free of her. And she would be to blame. Again.
The thought brought clarity and the strength she needed to make things right.
Chapter Four
The forest was silent around Stephano, all except for the water gurgling past him in the stream. He stilled his hand as he became aware of something, not a sound, but a sensation. It flowed over him more in the form of a scent than anything else. Wild lilacs and lavender. His shaft was hot and tense in his hand. He needed a few more strokes to finish what he’d started. He drew in a lungful of the subtle aroma and a groan slipped past his control.
Hot, explicit images of a perfectly delicate form filled his mind, coupled with the ultra-soft feel of warm skin sliding over his heated flesh. The fantasy included nails scoring his back, marking him. Legs wrapped around his hips, locking him tight. Long, thick hair brushed against his flesh.
It was so real he could feel the pulse of a heartbeat along his erection. The pending orgasm swelled his shaft to such a degree it hurt. He bit back another groan but couldn’t stop the rushing awareness that he was going to come. With a wild shout, he began pumping through his tight fist. Each stroke lightly jostled his balls the way he liked it. He could clearly imagine them bouncing up against softness of the woman he possessed. Relief built instead of breaking. The longer it rose, the weaker he felt, until with a rush, he hit orgasm.
The first pulse of seed shot out in hot burst, followed by the next, and the next. His back arched, his ass clenched, and his body thrummed with the strength of the orgasm. He shuddered through the pulses, struggling to breathe even with his mouth wide open to draw in air. Pleasure arrowed up and down his back and stomach, tightening and loosening his muscles repeatedly. Exhausted, but still caught in the grip of the release, he fell back onto the forest floor.
His cock was still sensitive minutes later when he weakly released his grip. He lifted his head and stared down in amused disbelief. Cream pooled on his stomach, more spilled down the ruddy head as one more spurt decided to follow the dozens before it.
“I’m in Hades all over again,” he muttered on a groan.
It felt that way. Except this time, he was able to come, he reminded himself.
He let his head fall back down and stared up past the canopy of trees. An image of Maeve formed from them, not surprising, since she was the reason he was out here, on his back with his wet cock drying in the cool night air. Maeve. Even her name was erotic. Mae-vee, or Mae, he whispered in his mind, experiencing a jolt of adrenaline-laced arousal.
“Hades if I didn’t know better…” He’d swear the god of the dead was toying with him, again. But this wasn’t Hades. Or any other god. This was a reaction to a woman. A beautiful woman, true, but one woman all the same.
He shook his hands, much as Maeve had near the stream and looked around for something to wipe them on. Moss. The ground was covered in the rich, green softness. He grunted. It will have to do. He got most of it off, then rose and walked the few steps to the bank of the brook to clean the rest. The water was bitterly cold. He gritted his teeth at the temperature but soldiered on. His body shrank back down to normal size, not pleased at all with the frigid washing.
If this was going to be the routine, he had to start bringing a towel with him. Something to clean himself off with. And hot water.
A twig snapped close by. He tucked himself away and hastily looked around. Seconds later he still couldn’t pinpoint anyone. If Ajax is out here laughing his ass off at me…
He waited longer than he wanted to, but finally headed back to camp. Garret nodded curtly when he slipped by. Tired and ready for sleep, he took his place by the fire, then froze. Maeve’s tent was empty. He spotted her bedroll when the wind lifted the tent flap. Halfway to his feet, he paused, then sank down. If he went back out, Garret would want to know why. Once was acceptable, but unless he claimed a sore stomach, twice so close together would make the man want to investigate.
Undecided, he rolled to his side, facing her tent. Maybe she was in there, but not on her bedroll. Maybe she was on the other side of the tent. They’d only pitched her one, since it wasn’t raining or cold, why bother with more? Still, he wished she was out here, in the open, so he could watch her as he wanted.
The scent of lavender and lilacs settled over him again, this time soothing him into almost slipping into sleep. Something caught his attention though and he snapped his heavy lids open. There. A slight movement at the rear of her tent he wouldn’t have seen if not for the moon. Maeve. She wiggled under the side, struggling a bit to pull herself through, but she did it silently. He thought she tugged too hard on her gown once because she froze half on her side her head down as if sensing whether or not anyone heard. When nothing happened, she dropped her head to the ground and he thought she sighed. It wasn’t a sound, but a movement of her shoulders.
Why so nervous? Where had she been?
She’d gone off once after dinner, Brennan standing when she did, then nodding at her flush. The men had all gotten busy, cleaning up the camp obviously not wanting to embarrass her. Women had to piss as well as men, or take a dump, but he doubted that’s why she’d left camp this time. She’d snuck past Garret to get back in. Not an easy thing to do, either. Why? Garret wouldn’t have em
barrassed her by saying anything. Narc would, but that was him and she deserved it.
The hair on the back of his neck shivered upright. He narrowed his eyes, seeing her even clearer now. She watched me. She was there. Watching. The idea had another hard on swell to life. If she watched me, she wants me. Maybe she masturbated as she watched me. He reached down and eased his cock to the left so it wasn’t being strangled.
If she had watched, if she had stroked her pussy, he was going to make sure she tried again tomorrow night. I’ll be waiting. And when she did show up… His balls tingled, the memory of sinking into warm, willing flesh—now her flesh—made his body tense in anticipation. Sweat broke out on his brow and along his arms. It’s been so long. And now, to have her?
He rolled to his back and stared blankly at the stars. Maeve is small. I’ll have to go slow, easy, at least at first. Then… He drew in a deep breath filled with the scent of her. Then I’m going to have her pussy squeezing down on my cock in orgasms she’ll never forget.
* * * *
Maeve knew something was different with Stephano. She was afraid to contemplate why. If he’d discovered…if he’d realized. The memory of him last night, the moonlight caressing his bronzed skin as he stroked his erection flooded her mind. With the rush of images, she felt weak with desire. He’d enjoyed every slip of his hand up and down his thick column of flesh.
She stifled the memory, refusing to let the arousal burn through her again. If she did… A ghost of a tremble slithered down her spine. She glanced over at her brother, not sensing he was aware of her difficulty. Taking a deep breath, she focused on her cooking. She finished with the last of the flat breads, cooling her fingers with a quick shake after retrieving the last one, and got her heartbeat down to normal.
