‘Great! Now I’ve got dust in the works as well as corrupted programs!’
But, when out of habit she fired the thing up, not only did the wi-fi connection spring into life, but also files she seemed to have lost yesterday were restored and full of data she’d believed gone forever.
She began to shake. Hard. So hard she had to sit down on the bed again.
‘What the fuck are you, Robin?’ she demanded of the empty air.
It was impossible to ignore now, the strangeness of him. He’d sprinkled her bloody computer with fairy dust or whatever … and mended it.
‘Oh, God, help me, what’s going on?’
The temptation to dive under the duvet and just hide again was enormous, but she resisted it. The temptation to pour herself a tot of brandy was enormous too, and that she succumbed to, thinking it was a pretty poor turn of affairs that she was driven to drink, boozing first thing in the morning because she was afraid she just might have fucked a supernatural being last night.
She prowled the cabin, stirring up the Robin-dust with the trailing duvet that swept the floor much in the style of a geisha’s formal kimono.
‘This is stupid! There are no spirits, ghosties, sprites and fairies and what-have-you! And I’m sure you’re not a vampire because you’ve got such lovely teeth!’
But, if he was a real man, where the hell was he? Surely he would have stayed, especially if there was the prospect of a repeat performance?
‘Now this is just fantastic! You’re either a supernatural spook and you’ve turned into a pumpkin or something in the daylight … or you’re just a normal bloke who also happens to be a fuck ’em and run bastard!’ She swigged her brandy, then coughed at the bite of it. ‘Bloody hell, I certainly know how to pick men!’
But she couldn’t sit round getting drunk.
Still trying not to think too hard about anything, she showered and dressed and picked at some cereal for breakfast. She tidied the cabin and swept up, but that just swung her thoughts back to things incomprehensible.
The fairy dust or whatever it was seemed to disintegrate as fast as she brushed at it, and irrationally, seeing it go, she felt an aching wrench in the place where she knew her heart was.
He was magically beautiful and she was destroying his very essence.
She stopped cleaning up and tried to do some work. But it was hopeless. The code danced before her, and all she seemed to see were a pair of bi-coloured eyes, a glinting smile and gold-tipped hair … All that, and the most perfect male body, either fantastic or real.
She could feel him too. Deep in the quick of her, it was like having an echo of his penis still there, displacing the tender flesh that had embraced his as he moved and thrust and loved her. As she clenched her inner muscles, caressing a ghost, a deep pleasure gripped her and made her catch her breath.
Staggering almost, she collapsed into one of the easy chairs, her body trembling finely, her nerves, her heart – yes – her sex on fire as if Robin were with her, touching her, fucking her. Ripples of sensation licked over her skin like flames and she couldn’t tell if the feeling was real, in her imagination, or in her memory. The agitation in her flesh made her toss her head and writhe against the upholstery, the turn-on far more intense and visceral almost than those moments of displaced lust on the beach. She cupped her breast and her crotch, her heels kicking against the rug as her hands seemed to become Robin’s to stir her.
Where are you? Where are you? I need you!
Opening eyes she didn’t realise she’d closed, she looked down and seemed to see his glorious face looking up at her from between her legs, just like last night.
He smiled, he winked, and her body surged, the sudden sharp arousal capsizing in an instant, as she kneaded herself and the rough pressure made her come.
As she fell back into herself, the absurdity of her actions scared her. It was either that, or the fact that she wasn’t entirely sure they’d been her actions. Her impetus …
Had that just been a visitation? What had happened?
Oh, God, I think I’m going mad!
‘I can’t go on like this! I’ve got to get out of here!’
The sound of her own voice snapped Lois mercifully from her fugue, and she grabbed her coat, threw it on and set out for a walk.
The day was grim and cold again, and the skies leaden. A brisk wind was whipping up high seas and making spray lash the beach. Gritting her teeth and huddling into her puffed jacket, Lois took the path into the woods, her walking shoes squishing as she tramped the packed earth that had partly turned to mud. She wasn’t quite sure where she was going, but her feet just kept putting themselves one in front of the other.
Are you out here, Robin? Is this where you hang?
The silent trees mocked her, and there was no sign of life other than a few dubious-sounding rustles in the undergrowth. She wondered whether to turn back. What if there were foxes, or some other wild animals that might attack her?
Probably nothing more dangerous than the man-thing I fucked last night, she decided, shaking her head, and then strode on.
The woods were dark and dank, and were frankly starting to scare her. But, just on the point of turning back, she seemed to burst out into a little glade that was chocolate-box pretty and lifted straight from an illustrated Victorian fairytale. It was bright here too and, when she looked up, she was astonished to discover that the sun had finally come out and was peppering the little dell with golden light.
There had been nothing about this on the BBC Weather site, but, with her face still lifted towards the welcome sunshine fragmenting through the higher branches, Lois unzipped her jacket. With the light had come heat. She stepped forwards into the glade, and then laughed out loud. Not only was she in a circle of light and warmth, but she was also standing in a fairy ring of toadstools.
‘I don’t believe this! It’s got to be a joke.’
Although she was half expecting Robin to pop out from behind a tree and answer her, nothing happened. She was still alone. Vaguely disappointed but also slightly relieved, she crossed the ring and sat down on a large fallen log, puffing out her cheeks.
‘So where are you, Magic Man?’
Her words echoed strangely, almost as if she were in a church, ringing and rebounding.
Still nothing.
Well, not completely nothing. As she sat motionless on the log, there was a rustling in the low brush, and an animal hopped out into the circle, almost floating over the short cropped turf.
It was a hare, long-shanked and lop-eared, mottled in colour, cream and dark brown.
Laughter burst like a bubble from Lois’s lips and she instantly expected the timid animal to bolt back the way it had come. Instead, it cocked its head on one side, studying her with bright intelligent eyes.
Bright intelligent eyes that had something really peculiar about them. Peculiar and familiar …
Lois opened her mouth to speak, but suddenly there was a loud crack in the underbrush behind her, like the breaking of a twig, and she almost leapt up from the log, swivelling around.
Nothing behind her this time, but, when she whipped back around to face the clearing and dappled light and the toadstools, she was no longer alone.
Robin, standing tall and dark in his long black coat, his head cocked on one side, was studying her with bright intelligent eyes.
He was on the very same spot the hare had occupied.
She’d heard no sound of the animal’s movement or his.
No rustle of grass or undergrowth. No displacement of air.
The hare had simply disappeared and left Robin in its place.
The broken sunlight faded, becoming splodged with black as the dell began to spin violently.
Lois fainted.
*
Struggling back to consciousness, she found herself firmly held and encircled. Fight or flight reflex made her jerk and wriggle and try to get free.
She knew whose strong arms were around her.
&
nbsp; Or what’s arms.
That idea made her fight hard. But to no avail. His hold was unbreakable.
‘Let me go! Let me go! Get off me!’
The hold loosened, but bizarrely, now she was free, her limbs felt too heavy and lethargic to allow her to move. She stared at her booted toes and his much bigger ones beside them.
They were sitting on the short firm turf, their backs against the log, their legs stretched out in front of them. She could not, dared not, look at him. But his large cool hand gently stroked her face and, against all the odds, it seemed the simplest and most comfortable thing in the world to rest her head against the strength of his shoulder. The backs of his fingers moved slowly and soothingly against her cheek.
‘Hush, don’t be afraid,’ he whispered. ‘Nothing to be scared of.’
Lois huffed out a little breath. Easy for him to say that.
‘That hare … it was you, wasn’t it?’
There seemed to be no way she could get away from him, even if she’d wanted to, so it made best sense to meet the issue head on. She shifted around a little and, adjusting her position, she managed to screw up the courage to face him.
His luminous eyes – both blue and brown – were steady, clear and candid.
‘Yes.’ He gave a little shrug, and his splendid mouth quirked. ‘And I was also the bird, down on the beach, yesterday.’
The little well of bravery she’d gathered around her faltered, and she dragged in a great breath, utterly shaken.
‘H-how can that be? How is it possible?’ She shook her head. ‘I mean, I’ve watched Buffy and Doctor Who and all that … but they’re just stories. Fiction, made-up stuff … You can’t seriously be, um, I don’t know … a shape-shifter or whatever they’re called. That’s just crazy! It’s not possible!’
Robin blinked at her, his glorious face troubled, his brow crumpling. ‘I am what I am, Lois, and I can change form, become other creatures … and be human sometimes.’
Suddenly, a real sadness glittered in his eyes, and Lois realised to her astonishment that the azure and the brandy brown both were shiny with the gloss of real tears.
Human tears?
Her fear vanished. What was wrong? Why so sad? A great need to comfort and nurture surged up in her. It was kind of maternal, and yet not motherly at all. She was too close to him, and he smelt too wonderful and felt too strong to deny more earthy feelings.
‘What’s wrong?’ she whispered, turning her face into his palm, and kissing it impulsively to offer comfort … and more.
‘I’d like to stay human longer, but, after tomorrow, when June arrives, I can’t.’
She supposed there was some great mythology to explain this, and that it would probably be wiser to understand it if she could, but a sudden urgency compelled her to ignore it for the moment. And forget anything but the here and now of Robin, the most beautiful and extraordinary man she’d ever met. She was probably being ten dozen different types of brainless bimbo-fools, but, if he had less than twenty-four hours in the shape he currently wore, she couldn’t waste a minute debating parapsychology!
And yet, as she took his soft mobile lips in a tender kiss, and breathed in his sigh of relief and happiness, she couldn’t help but see how many things now made sense.
His lack of physical weight and the coolness of his skin had seemed downright bizarre, but she supposed a part of her mind had just not asked questions. Or maybe they had, but those questions had been squelched … because Robin could read her thoughts, and probably manipulate them.
Which accounted for the erotic dreams too, she supposed.
I should be angry … but I’m not.
Oh, and there’d been other clues too.
His hair and eyes could be explained rationally, but not the sudden uncanny manifestation of wireless broadband and the self-mending computer.
It’s all magic! Robin’s magic …
There was magic, too, in the feel of his mouth, although the delicious contact was far from imaginary. He felt real, completely real, and of the flesh.
He’s a … a … something, and I still want to kiss him. He’s not human, and I still want to fuck him. This is insane, but it makes perfect sense.
Of course it made sense! If Robin would be gone soon, she had to have him now.
Sliding her hands inside his coat, she pushed it off his shoulders, and then, impatiently, tugged at the hem of his black T-shirt and snuck her fingers under it to cruise his silky skin.
He was cool, of course, but not cold. The contours of his chest and torso were like marble that was just beginning to feel the kiss of the morning sun. Flawless to the touch, and almost as hard in its muscular perfection. That was what magic did, she supposed, caressing his abs, and then flickering up to circle his taut male nipples. Why settle for second best when you could recreate a girl’s ultimate wet dream?
Suddenly, she had to see him. In the arboreal sunlight, and maybe for the last time.
‘Coat off, whatever you are,’ she commanded, sweetening the order with a pepper of kisses against his throat.
Robin obeyed, and his grin showed that he’d forgotten his momentary distress and was now into the spirit of things. He slid off his heavy coat, then whipped his black T-shirt off over the top of his head, ruffling his golden-tipped hair endearingly in the process.
What the devil are you? Lois demanded silently, admiring the sweetly ripped lines of his chest, arms and shoulders. In fact, are you a devil?
Robin shook his curly head and Lois felt a great rush of relief.
‘What then? An angel? A ghost?’
Again, he shook his head.
‘You must be something though … just tell me!’
Leaning forwards, he pressed his lips to her ear and whispered a few words into it, all very low and very quiet.
7
‘Get away with you!’ Lois laughed and reached out to stroke his cool face. ‘You’re too big and butch and macho. Whatever happened to gauzy wings and pointy hats and perching on bluebells and all that? And, anyway, I thought they were all girls?’
‘Oh no.’ Robin smiled slyly at her, his eyes naughty. ‘I can be whatever I want, if necessary, but my natural inclination is towards the male.’ His big hand settled on her cheek, then slid down her throat and her shoulder, before settling on her breast. ‘Especially now …’
His fingers cradled her flesh with perfect delicacy, and his lips were just as apposite as they pressed against hers. He seemed confident, but also a supplicant.
Be with me, I beg of you, he seemed to say in her mind. Please be with me, there isn’t much time.
Lois responded, fighting the anguish that threatened to overwhelm her. She’d finally found her ideal man, but he wasn’t actually a man. She wanted to be with him forever, but there were only a few hours before she’d lose him and not see him again for a year. If then.
She kissed him back hard, letting her own hands wander again over the firm muscular contours of his body. His need, and her own, made her bold. Pushing him by the shoulders, she urged him downwards, making him lie on the turf so she could surge over him and revel in the male splendour laid out for her pleasure.
And his too, really, she supposed. She couldn’t imagine him making himself look ugly if he had the choice.
He tried to reach for her again, but she took him by the hands, and then pressed her lips to his palms, one after the other.
‘Relax, Magic Man, let me explore you,’ she murmured, pressing his arms back at his side, forcing him to lie inert, waiting, accepting. He seemed to be submitting, but the hot glint in his strange eyes told another tale. The King of the Grove was only allowing her to play with him. He looked more like a pasha accepting homage than a boy-toy at her bidding.
She touched her fingertips to his chest, flicking them over his nipples and then smiling when he wriggled and made a little sound of appreciation. She let her hand drift lower and the sound became closer to a growl.
His hips lift
ed when she traced his zipper with her fingernail.
‘I think it’s time we took a look at your wand, eh, don’t you?’
Robin’s strong arms came up, grabbing for her, but she pushed him back down again, tut-tutting and revelling in the way he allowed her to master his strength. For the time being at least.
As if accepting the status quo, he folded his arms behind his head, as a pillow. ‘Help yourself,’ he purred, a twinkle in his eyes.
Lois attacked his belt with gusto, unfastening the heavy buckle, then the button that lay beneath it. The black clothing, the archetypal garb for the dark predator … where did it come from? Were the coat and the boots et al. magic too? A part of him? What would happen if he disappeared while he was out of them?
Toying with his zip, she looked into his face rather than at his crotch, knowing it was quite likely that he was reading her mind.
‘All this – the way you look? Where does it come from? I mean, is it from your imagination, or do you have some sort of … um … template or something?’
‘Inspiration comes from many sources, my sweet.’ His gaze flicked from her hovering fingers to her face. ‘Just as you garner images for your web designs from here and there and everywhere, I gathered them from around me … and from your mind.’
Pausing in her explorations, Lois sat back a little, frowning. Peering at him through narrowed eyes. The face, yes, she could see it now … Familiar elements …
Looking at Robin, she suddenly recognised the likenesses.
One of her favourite actors, yes, there was a bit of him there. And the clothes, she suddenly realised, they came from a different character in a different show that she liked. His nose, faintly snub, she realised with astonishment, was not dissimilar to her own, only bigger of course and innately masculine … and, by God, he even had a bit of a look of the neighbour about him too if you looked closely enough!
‘Well, I’ve never seen anyone with hair like yours before or eyes that are different colours. Where the hell did those come from?’
Robin laughed softly and, defying her edict, he half sat up and reached out for her hands again, drawing them towards his groin area.
‘Well, those touches are uniquely my own. I have to be allowed a little creativity, don’t I?’
The Red Collection Page 30
