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Stone Guardian

Page 13

by Maeve Greyson


  She was so innocent. Torin’s heart shifted with a tender feeling he never thought possible. “No, lass. Your face is as clean and lovely as ever.”

  Emma’s cheeks flushed a bright pink and she dropped her gaze back to her bowl. Clearing her throat as she pushed the spoon in circles through her food, she kept her head lowered as she spoke. “So, why are you looking at me like that then? You look like you need to say something but you can’t figure out how to say it.”

  Her words heightened Torin’s wariness. Emma might not realize the gifts she possessed but she naturally tapped into her powerful sense of perception with amazing ease. “Have ye ever wondered where ye came from, Emma? Have ye ever sought your ancestry?”

  Emma rose from the table, scooped up the bowls, and hugged them against her chest. Her expression flattened into an emotionless blank as though she’d donned a mask. “No. It doesn’t matter where I came from. All that matters is where I’m headed.”

  Fear. Torin smelled it as surely as the smoldering peat fire smoking in the grate. Emma feared what she might find if she looked into the past. What else could drain the color from her freckle-dusted cheeks? “What if I could tell ye of your history? Of the wondrous gifts and discoveries awaiting ye as ye…move forward?”

  Emma paused, not looking at Torin. Her knuckles whitened as she stared down at the thick ceramic bowls in her hands. The muscles in her jaw rippled as she turned and whacked the dishes against the garbage bin until globs of stew splattered into the can. Still staring down into the garbage, Emma’s voice trembled as she spoke. “What if I told you I didn’t want to know?”

  “Ye do not wish to know the magic that lies within your reach or ye’re afraid to discover the power awaiting your command?” Torin edged closer. He had to make her see it was time to face her heritage. The time for running was over.

  Emma turned, dropped the bowls in the sink, then flinched as the pottery shattered with a grating crash against the porcelain-coated cast iron. “Well, dammit!” Emma pounded the heels of her hands against the rim of the sink, staring down at the broken bowls. “The magic you speak of hasn’t helped me a damn bit or gotten me where I am today. Determination is all I need. Why do I need magic now?” Bitterness and resentment hung heavy in the air, seasoning every word she spit.

  Torin understood better than Emma could ever know. His powers hadn’t protected him from unbearable pain or loss either. “You and I are not so different, Emma. Pain has filled our lives. The magic doesna shield us from sorrows along our path. It’s merely one of the threads woven into our fate.”

  “My fate—my destiny is to help children, heal them the best I can. That’s the only magic I’ve got room for in my life. All I need is the magic of science.” Grabbing the garbage bin, she yanked it over beside the sink. With stiff jerking movements, Emma fished the shards of pottery out of the basin and pegged them into the can one by one.

  Lore, the woman’s stubbornness reminded him of his own. Torin grabbed both her hands and bent forward until Emma raised her head and faced him. “The powers can no longer be ignored, lass. The time is past for pretending. Ye must face your true path as a guardian. I can help ye find the way. The wonders just awaiting your touch will fair set yer mind to spinning.”

  Yanking her hands out of his grasp, Emma backed against the counter. “Why is this so important to you? Why are you hounding me about this, Torin? What’s in this for you?”

  A sharp rap on the door caused them both to jump. Emma’s eyes widened as she looked at the door then swiveled her attention back to him.

  Fear? Torin studied her expression as a dusty rose flush heightened the color of her cheeks. No. Not fear. Something else. Torin pulled his dagger from the leather sheath strapped to his leg and took a step toward the door. Whatever lay on the other side of that threshold was causing Emma a great deal of unease.

  “No!” Emma grabbed his arm as she pushed past him with her handbag clutched to her chest. She pulled the front door open just enough to pull in a brown paper package while holding the door steady with her extended foot.

  “Here. Thank you very much.” Emma shoved a handful of something that she’d pulled from the depths of her black bag through the narrow opening. She followed this motion with a polite smile then closed the door with a quiet bang. Turning, Emma clutched a small brown package against her chest as she leaned back against the door.

  What was the lass up to now? Torin glared at the package, widened his stance and crossed both arms over his chest. A sense of dread armed his defenses. He’d been hit with so many other strange contraptions in this time; he was none too certain he was ready for another. “What does the package hold, Emma?”

  Emma glanced down at the twine-wrapped bundle cradled in her arms. She caught the corner of her bottom lip between her teeth then raised her gaze to his. “This package?”

  Embarrassment. Torin forced himself not to smile. Whatever she held in her arms was causing the lass quite a bit of discomfort. He had to know what the strange bundle held. Surely a package so verra small couldna hold anything too wicked. “Yes, Emma. That package.”

  “Stuff.”

  “Stuff?” Torin stared at her in disbelief. So, she didna wish to tell him what she had hidden beneath the brown paper?

  The color heightened across Emma’s cheeks. “Yes. Stuff. My stuff.” Nodding toward the crumb-covered kitchen table, she wrapped her arms tighter around the bundle. “Are you sure you’ve had enough to eat? I can’t believe one cheese-covered hot dog is a meal for a man like you. I think I’ve got some cookies in the cupboard. How about some cookies with a tall glass of milk?”

  “If ye dinna wish to tell me what your wee package holds”—Torin released the smile he’d been fighting to hold back—“all ye need do is state your wish.”

  “My wish?” A befuddled expression covered Emma’s face as she tossed her purse into the chair.

  “Aye.” Torin nodded. “Yer wish to keep the contents of your prize a secret.”

  Waving the package in the air, Emma stomped over to the kitchen, yanked open a drawer and fished out a knife. “I guess I might as well show you. It’s not like I’m going to be able to keep them a secret forever. After all, they’re really for both of us.”

  “For both of us?”

  Emma didn’t bother replying, just sliced through the twine wrapped around the package and dumped several small purple-and-black boxes across the countertop. “There. Now you know.”

  Torin moved forward with interest. What mysterious magic could all those little boxes hold? Strange shaped glyphs scrawled across the sides of the boxes over the out-lined image of a full-busted woman. Gingerly picking up one of the boxes, Torin hefted it in his hand. Very light. What could possibly be inside?

  “They’re condoms,” Emma blurted with an exasperated huff. “This isn’t exactly how I planned to introduce you to them but I guess now is as good a time as any.”

  “Condoms?” Torin frowned as he noted the tension tightening Emma’s face. He crushed the box open, scowling in confusion as several shining packets flew in all directions. “What the hell are these condoms for?”

  “Several things, actually.” Emma drolly noted with a shrug. “Preventing pregnancy and sexually transmitted diseases are the two most important uses that come to mind.”

  Pregnancy. A chill washed over Torin’s body as though Emma had just doused him with ice. This woman feared childbirth too. Torin searched Emma’s expression as she gathered up the scattered packets and stuffed them in one of the other boxes. “Do ye fear childbirth, Emma?” Hell all mighty. What if she did? He’d never be able to touch her again. He’d be damned if he’d go through the pain of opening his soul to another woman just to lose her the way he’d lost the treacherous Eilean.

  Emma’s movements slowed. Her brow creased as she stared down at the over-stuffed box in her hands and ran her thumbs along its edge. “I wouldn’t call it a fear of childbirth.” Her movements quickened as though when her th
oughts fell into place, so did the chore at hand. She forced the box shut and stacked the colorful boxes into an orderly pile. “At this point in my life, I just don’t feel I could be a truly good mother. I’ve got too many irons in the fire.”

  The tension pulling across his shoulders relaxed just a bit. “So someday.” Torin took a step closer. “Someday, when ye feel yer ready, ye might want a child of your own?”

  “Of course.” Emma shrugged, giving him a peculiar look as though his words didn’t make any sense.

  Torin released the breath he’d been holding as the rest of the tension faded away. Nodding toward the neatly stacked boxes, he pointed at the uppermost box. “Those tiny packets within the boxes—they hold herbs to prevent ye from getting a bairn in your womb?”

  Emma’s eyes widened and her lower lip twitched. “No...” Emma cleared her throat while rubbing her knuckles back and forth across the tip of her nose as though trying to hide behind her hand.

  “Dinna laugh at me, Emma.” Torin stood a bit taller and lifted his chin. What the hell did the lass find so funny? All he did was ask her about the herbs.

  “I am not laughing at you.” Emma ducked her head. Her shoulders trembled as she turned away and supported herself against the counter.

  Torin rounded the counter in one wide stride, grabbed her shoulders and spun her into his arms. He’d teach the teasing woman to laugh at his lack of knowledge about this time’s ways. Pressing the length of his body hard into her soft curves, he held her tight in the curl of his arm while lifting her chin with a finger. “Now laugh, wicked Emma. I may know little about this world but I know enough to set ye ablaze.”

  Emma’s breath hitched through barely parted lips as her eyelids half-closed. “You’re definitely an expert when it comes to heat.” Melting into the welcome fire of Torin’s embrace, Emma snuggled her body against his hardness and opened her mouth to his.

  Emma shivered as Torin’s groan vibrated against her breasts and his warm tongue dove into her mouth. He pinned her back against the counter, pushing apart her legs with his knee. With slow purposeful claiming, he slid both hands down her back. As his hands traveled lower, he pulled her closer, cupping her bottom as he lifted her up and settled himself between her thighs.

  “Wait.” Emma tore her mouth free of his delicious taste while blindly searching the top of the counter with an extended hand. Bumping into the boxes of condoms, she scattered their neat little pile.

  “Why?” Torin rasped against her mouth while running one hand up the front of her shirt and fondling her tightening nipple. Rolling the sensitive button between his fingers, he pulled it with just enough force to shoot bursts of ecstasy through her flesh.

  “This is why I got these.” Emma panted against his throat. She worked her fingers into the cardboard box and pulled one of the cellophane wrapped packages free. “Let me put this on you before we get carried away.”

  Torin pulled back, frowning as he stared down at the packet she held between them. “Put what on me? Where?”

  Emma fiddled with the precut edge of the packet. When her trembling fingers failed to rip through the perforated edge, she gingerly gripped the corner of the package between her teeth, only succeeding in ripping a tiny sliver of plastic off the edge of the envelope. Well damn. How long had it been since she tried to open a condom? Was it always this difficult?

  Torin took another step back, releasing a very strained sigh as he crossed both arms over his chest. “What are ye doing, Emma?”

  “Just work with me here, okay?” Emma waved him off and rotated the packet in her hand. Screw it. Catching the remainder of the packet between her teeth, she yanked hard and finally ripped the tiny envelope open, dropping the rubbery round disc in the palm of her hand.

  “What the hell is that?” Torin bent closer and frowned down at the result of Emma’s efforts.

  “It’s a condom.” Emma slid one hand up Torin’s chest then trailed her fingers back down to his waist and hooked them in his kilt. “It goes on your…” She nodded toward the area just below her hand.

  “That?” Torin’s eyes widened in disbelief. “That wee thing is supposed to stay on the tip of my cock? While we…” Torin’s voice trailed off as he shook his head and stared up at the ceiling as though searching for guidance.

  Emma wrapped Torin’s kilt in her grasp and yanked his body closer. For some strange reason, the idea that this was Torin’s virgin run with a condom filled her with an extra dose of seductive fire. “Let me show you.” She couldn’t resist licking her lips as she yanked his kilt free and tossed it to the kitchen floor.

  Torin hissed out a surprised breath then spread his arms as he leaned forward. “Aye, love,” Torin finally purred. “Show me what ye have in mind.”

  Emma pressed her palms against the hardness of Torin’s chest and in one slow, methodical caress, trailed her hands down the ripples of his muscles. Such hardness. How could his muscles be rock hard and yet his skin tease against her fingertips like the softest velvet? She tickled her fingers even lower, smiling as Torin caught his breath and spread his feet farther apart. Dropping to her knees, she traced her nails back up along his inner thigh, swirling ever so lightly through the tight curls of hair growing ever thicker the higher she explored. As she moved one hand higher and gently cradled his sac, she kissed the straining tip of his member then laved the length of him with her tongue.

  Torin lurched forward, slamming both hands on the edge of the counter as she drew him into her mouth. “Lore, woman. I’ll surely die from what yer doin’.”

  Emma suckled him with one long slow draw then kissed the tip of his cock again. “But what a way to go, right?” She wrapped her fingers around his satin hardness and stroked with a firm teasing pull.

  “Aye,” Torin groaned as he closed his eyes. “Aye, love,” he repeated as she stroked him some more.

  Emma smoothed the condom down around his hardness and took him in her mouth again. She took her time and gifted him with slow luscious pulls while running her tongue up and down the slick hardness of his shaft.

  “Lore, woman—I can stand no more!” Torin grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her up to his chest, burying his tongue inside her mouth. He lifted her body atop the counter and pushed between her thighs.

  Emma wrapped her legs around Torin’s hips and hugged his body to her. “Take me,” she whispered against the stubble of his jaw. “Take me now,” she repeated as she ran her tongue just below his jaw and nibbled at the warm saltiness of his throat.

  Torin roared as he drove into her body. His back arched as the hardness of his shaft hammered into her depths. Emma filled her hands with Torin’s flexing buttocks and pulled him harder against her womb with every repeated thrust. He slid in and out, pounding the ancient rhythm as Emma closed her eyes and gave her senses over to the dance until the room exploded into rapturous bursts of flesh-tingling ecstasy. Torin roared again, tensed inside her then shuddered and collapsed.

  Torin’s torso swelled between her arms as he sucked in a deep breath then hefted his warm body a bit above of hers. Bending to plant a gentle kiss on the end of her nose, he pressed his damp forehead against hers. “I didna mean to crush ye, lass, but ye left me with verra little strength.”

  Emma grinned while pulling him back down tight against her still tingling breasts. “I like it when I leave you weak. Your body feels good on top of mine.”

  “Lore, lass,” Torin rasped as he drew in a ragged breath and slowly eased away. “I’d die a happy man inside your sweet softness but right now I’m a bit confused.”

  “Confused?” Emma propped herself up on her elbows, admiring the lovely sheen of sweat shining across Torin’s chest. “Why are you confused?”

  “What do we do with your wee condom now?” Torin stood with feet slightly apart and hands planted on his hips. He rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet as he nodded down toward his spent member.

  Emma held her breath and bit her lip. She didn’t dare open
her mouth. If she laughed at Torin now, he might not appreciate it very much. Swallowing hard, she scooted herself to a sitting position atop the counter and pointed toward the trash bin. “You…um…take it off and toss it in there.”

  Torin didn’t move, just continued staring down at his sagging latex coated shaft. “Seems a waste. Are ye sure ye dinna want to rinse out the wee stocking and save it to use again?”

  Emma clapped a hand across her mouth as laughter snorted out her nose. As Torin fixed her with a disgruntled glare, she pinched her nose shut between her fingers and held her breath against any further giggles. Wow. Apparently, those old tales of a Scot’s thriftiness were based on fact. Uncovering her mouth enough to draw in a deep breath, Emma swallowed hard against any further outbursts. “I don’t think that would work very well.” She waved a hand toward the untouched boxes scattered across the floor. “Besides. We’ve got plenty.”

  Torin tensed and shifted his stance back a few steps. His smile disappeared. “Aye. Well. I still think ’tis a bit of a waste when all ye need do is clean it up a bit afore ye use it again.”

  “I’m sorry, Torin.” Emma hopped down from the counter and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Please don’t be upset. I didn’t mean to laugh. It was just your expression and the way you stood there with your feet spread apart. I couldn’t help it.” Emma’s lips twitched with a giveaway tremble. She must not laugh—not now.

  “A man doesna like to be made a fool. I’ve borne that feeling too many times since waking to this place.” Torin kissed her forehead and ran his fingers along the smooth skin of her upper arm. “But I shan’t have to bear it verra much longer.”

  Emma drew away in one slow smooth motion, her fingers trailing down the sides of his arms. “What do you mean by that?”

  Damn her perception. The woman sensed his urgency, felt his despair with this strange unwelcome place. She just didn’t know what to do once she read his aura. He might as well tell her the truth. He’d never been any good with lies. “I willna be staying in this reality long, Emma. But I need ye more than ye will ever know. I need yer help to return to my clan, to pass beyond the veil. I dinna belong here in this madness. This world is filled with nothing but chaos.”

 

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