by Kimbra Swain
Then she said it. I had to hold back when I heard the word. “Okay,” she said barely audible.
This was it. Shit or get off the pot.
I touched her lips lightly with mine, cupping both of her cheeks to keep her from bolting. I went slow, moving with her mouth. She tasted like heaven. She tried speeding it up, but I kept it slow. I wanted it to last. I wanted it forever. She pressed harder. “No.” I scolded her to get her to slow down. Her body shook with anticipation. It was a damn good kiss.
She left her mouth slightly open, inviting me in again. I took it. She fought the urge to turn loose. I felt her trying to satisfy me. Yes. She was built for this. A fairy queen had the unique ability to satisfy every need that her partner had. It was natural, and now she wanted to do that for me. She was mine for the taking.
I rested my forehead on hers. I needed to be sure. She had a wild look in her eyes. I had to do this or I would lose her. No, chickening out. But on the other hand, Jeremiah’s warning plagued me. It would be a one-night stand. I couldn’t think of a way to avoid it. My only hope was that we could make a connection that would last.
“Please,” she begged. It took everything I had not to rip that tiny dress off of her.
“No, Grace, I said a kiss. Just one kiss,” I stood firm. I wanted to see how she would react.
“One more,” she begged.
I turned loose, letting her body crash into mine. I took her mouth with mine. Her tongue pressed into mine, hungry and needy. She latched herself through my belt loops with her fingers. Damn, she felt so good.
“Stop,” I said catching my breath. My lips burned with icy cold like they were chapped and bleeding, but they weren’t. It threw me off. I knew what she was, but I never thought her cold could match my heat. I thought we would cancel each other out. The control had shifted to her. I’d given it to her.
“Isn’t this what you wanted? Isn’t this what you need?” she pleaded with me.
“No, it’s not. I don’t want a mad rush of passion and it to be over,” I said. Jeremiah’s warning continued to haunt me. Doubt crept in as I battled with my base desire to take what I wanted versus the new part of me I’d discovered that wanted a family with her. I couldn’t even fathom that I’d reached that point in my life. It wasn’t just an heir. It could be a family like the dream. “You said that at the bar. You were right because it’s not what I want.” I wanted her. Heart, body, and soul. Not just body. It was all she was offering me at that moment.
“You need to know that you are still worth something to a woman. I can do that for you for one night, and you will face tomorrow with a whole new perspective. She’s held you captive for five years. Let me show you that she was wrong to leave you,” she said. I couldn’t love her any more than I did, but she said it. One night. I didn’t want one night. I wanted every night.
I didn’t know how to explain it to her. “No, Grace. Go inside,” I said, turning my back on her.
“I don’t understand,” she whined. “What was all of that at the bar? You are here now, and you are walking away?”
“Please, don’t torture me. Just go inside,” I said.
Her next words cut through me. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No, you did everything right, Grace. I just can’t.” I wanted to tell her that she was perfect. That she could never wrong me. The words wouldn’t come. One night would never be enough. I wanted more, and I would have to wait for it.
“Oh, okay,” she muttered. She fumbled with the lock and went inside to the little dog. I could hear him whining as she opened the door. She looked at me with tears in her eyes as she shut the door.
I spun in a circle. “What did I just do?” I said quietly looking up at the stars.
Jeremiah had me twisted up. If I went in there with her, a part of me knew that I wouldn’t have her again until Jeremiah said she could. But it might be my only chance. She might not ever open up to me. Especially if she knew everything. This might be the only pure moment I’d have with her. My heart and body were torn.
I sprinted to her door and knocked once. When she opened the door, she already had the boots off, and she held the dress up behind her neck. Pushing through the door with determination, I didn’t wait for permission to enter. When my lips met hers again, she dropped the dress to the floor. She had nothing on under it. I suspected as much. She undressed me kissing my body with cold zings. Once she got my shirt off, I lifted her off the floor. My hands supported her by her tight ass as we moved toward the bedroom.
Sitting her on the bed, she went straight for my belt. She fumbled too long with it, so I pulled it off quickly with a flicker in my eye. She giggled and called me a devil. If she only knew.
I made love to her like I had never to any woman in my entire life. I wanted her to feel me. To feel all the things, I’d held back over the past five years. I knew I couldn’t tell her what I was, but I wanted to get to the point where it didn’t matter. Making love to Grace was the best moment of my entire life. I thought I’d make her mine, but instead, I was hers. She could do whatever she wanted with me. My whole being belonged to Grace Ann Bryant.
Dylan
Sitting in my cruiser across from the Food Mart, I watched her walk across the parking lot in cut off jean shorts and a tight tank top. She pulled her hair back away from her neck. Flashes of perfect moments flooded my brain.
“You okay?” Troy asked.
“Grace,” I said.
“Dude, you tried. She kicked you to the curb. She does that,” he said.
I grunted. Jeremiah had said it, but I felt what happened between us. It was different. I wanted to tell her that morning that I loved her, but I thought it would spook her. No words needed. She was spooked enough. Nestor assured me that she would come around, but she kept me away. She even refused to work a job with me last week. Now Jeremiah wanted to meet me at Hot Tin. I knew what he wanted. Time was up. I missed my chance. He was taking her away from me again.
“Fuck this,” I said, jumping out of the car as she slipped into the Food Mart. The cool air of the store whooshed over me when the automatic door opened. I paced down the main aisle looking for her. Finally, I found her in the ice cream aisle.
She rolled her eyes at me, as I approached. I didn’t even ask or speak. I grabbed her arm, dragging her to the back of the store. We passed through a swinging door that led to the storage room in the back.
“Damn it, Dylan. That hurts,” she said, jerking her arm away from me.
“Why won’t you answer my calls? Why won’t you talk to me? Was I a piece of meat? Was that it?” I asked.
“Don’t get your panties in a wad. It was a good fuck, Dylan. Best I’ve had in a while. That should help your bruised ego,” she grinned.
Anger welled up inside me. “It’s not my ego that’s bruised, Grace,” I muttered. I put my hands on my hips to resist the need to slam her against the wall and fuck her right here. Shit. Control. I was losing it.
“Now, Sheriff, don’t tell me that after one night you are in love with me,” she said.
“It wasn’t just one night,” I said.
“Please! You just broke up with your girlfriend. You needed a pick-me-up. I got you up and off. Multiple times. What else do you want?” she asked.
I knew what I wanted. I also knew at that moment that I wasn’t getting it. The last two times we had connected, there was a trauma. She leaned on me for strength in those desperate moments. I stood before her weak now. Unattractive. It was maddening. She had broken me.
“Never mind, Grace. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your arm,” I muttered. I pushed back through the doors into the grocery. Mable, the busybody gossip of the town, stood outside looking at me.
“Everything okay, Sheriff?” she asked.
“Dandy,” I replied walking straight past her.
“Dylan,” Grace called out to me. I stopped, but I didn’t look at her. “It was a mistake. I’m sorry. I would take it back if I could.”
“You alright?” he asked.
“Yeah. I gotta meet Jeremiah. You can take the cruiser. I’ll get a ride home,” I said.
“Any word from Stephanie?” he asked.
“No. I’m glad too. That should have ended a long time ago,” I said. “Go down to the station. We are getting a new recruit today. Her name is Amanda Capps. I was supposed to give her a tour of the county. Will you do it?”
“Sure. No problem. Go have a drink. Hell, find someone to fuck. I bet Kadence would do it,” he said.
“No. Talk to you later,” I said, cutting him off. He was just trying to help, but I couldn’t stand it anymore. I crossed the parking lot to the back of the bar. I entered by the side door. As I came in, I heard Nestor and Jeremiah arguing.
“What’s going on here?” I asked.
They both froze, surprised to see me coming through the back. I’d heard Grace’s name.
“Glad you are here,” Jeremiah said. “I’ve got to run out of town. Keep an eye on Grace. She’s vulnerable when she’s upset.”
“Upset? She’s not upset. She fucking hates me,” I said.
“I warned you, Dylan,” he said.
“You knew this would happen. All those times, I had her. You took her away from me. Now she won’t even speak to me other than to cut me down. She sees me as a weak buffoon!” I yelled at him. Nestor tried to calm me, but I ignored him.
Jeremiah looked so sure of himself. I needed to hit something, and his face was volunteering. “Dylan, coffee,” Nestor said shoving it into my hand. I knew about his magic coffee. I slammed it down on the bar, getting in Jeremiah’s face.
“I don’t care who you bring to this town. Grace is mine. I love her. She loves me. She doesn’t remember, but I will remind her. We will get to that point again,” I said. “If you interfere, I will kill you.”
“Dylan,” Nestor growled.
“You should listen to him, boy. I could squash you,” Jeremiah boasted.
“The truth is, you can’t. You know how to squash the Phoenix, but I’m not just Phoenix. My mother was a Thunderbird. You need a new plan,” I said. His eyes widened. I’d kept that secret close to the chest for the moment when I’d need it. I was a lot harder to kill permanently. Even more with my mother’s Native American heritage. “Someone didn’t do their homework. All that lightning in Greece. You remember that? That’s Thunderbird, not Phoenix.”
“It’s of no importance. I’m going to fetch her new handler now. Leave or stay. It doesn’t matter. He will have her eating out of the palm of his hand, and she will love every minute of it,” Jeremiah smiled.
“I don’t care who you bring into this town. Grace and I are connected. I will never give up on her,” I said.
“Good luck,” Jeremiah smirked, then left the bar.
I slumped down on one of the stools. Exhaustion passed over me. I hadn’t slept in days.
“Drink,” Nestor ordered.
Taking several sips, I felt better immediately. “He is wrong, right?” I asked him.
“He is, but you aren’t right either,” Nestor said. Some of the guys from work entered the bar. We swapped greetings as Nestor poured beers.
“Hey, Dylan, where’s Grace?” one of them asked. I supposed the whole town knew about our game of pool.
“At the trailer park with the trash,” I laughed half-heartedly. When I turned to face Nestor, his face was green. Behind him, Mable from the grocery store stood scowling. Shit. Mable was a gossip. I might as well had said it in front of Grace. “I didn’t mean that. Just defusing things.”
“Dylan, you should keep your mouth shut,” Nestor said.
“Yes, sir,” I replied. “She has ruined me.” I banged my head lightly on the bar. When I looked back up, Mable was gone.
Nestor saw me looking for her. “She is my handler,” he said.
“Your what?”
“She’s here to keep an eye on me for disobeying an order,” he said.
“She works for the Sanhedrin?” I asked.
“No, higher than that,” he said.
“Oberon?” I asked.
He nodded. “The bad thing is, I like her. We are good in bed,” he said.
“Nestor!” I said.
“What? I’m a fairy too,” he laughed. “I’ll tell you a secret if you can keep it.”
“Sure,” I moaned.
“Jeremiah’s little prodigy he’s going to pick up got himself in a mess with a voodoo witch. Jeremiah is bringing him back here to help with Grace, but he’s in quite the fix. If Jeremiah takes his eyes off of him for a minute, the Sanhedrin will eat him for lunch,” Nestor said.
“Are you suggesting I let them?” I asked.
“Hell, no. Poor kid is one of us. He just needs a little help. Unfortunately for you, Grace is what he needs,” Nestor said. “His voodoo girlfriend summoned a demon. The kid is on the run. Grace can protect him.”
I was doomed. “Kid?” I asked.
“He’s young. In his twenties,” he said.
“Grace doesn’t look a day over twenty-one. They will be perfect for each other,” I groaned.
“Dylan, do you love her or not?” he asked.
“I love her,” I said.
“Well, it’s not going to be easy, but you’ve got to stick with it. I’m telling you. Eventually, she will come around. She feels the same way about you. She’s just not sure what to do with those types of feelings. I doubt she’s ever really felt them that deeply before. Jeremiah can take away the memories, but he can’t take away the roots of them. What you have with her is planted deep inside her heart. It will take time, but it will bloom again,” Nestor said. His words were hopeful. I knew he liked me and approved of me as a partner for her. It meant a lot to me, but I felt like it was flowery words for a desperate, hopeless situation.
“I should get home before I kill someone,” I said.
He laughed. “You should take the coffee with you,” he said. “You got a ride?”
“No. I’ll find something,” I said.
“Come with me,” he said, walking up the steps to his apartment over the bar. When we entered the room, Mable sat on the couch knitting. “Mable, be a dear and move the rug.”
“You move it, Nestor,” she said.
“Don’t get smart with me, Woman,” he said smiling. She nudged the rug out of the way with her toes.
“I’m sorry about what I said about Grace,” I blurted out. Nestor grimaced.
“You should be. Dragging her into the back of the grocery store. I thought you were going to rape her,” she said.
“What?! No! That’s ridiculous,” I said.
“I saw that look on your face. You were like a dog following a bitch in heat,” she said.
“Let it go, Dylan,” Nestor muttered.
“Yes, let it go, Dylan,” Mable snapped.
I looked down to see a circle painted on the wood floor. “You can use one of these?” I asked.
“Mable, send him home please,” Nestor asked.
“Oh, crap. No, Nestor,” I said.
Before I knew it, she said, “My pleasure.” Her glamour dropped to reveal a smooth-skinned woman with bright green eyes. Her fingers were abnormally long. When she grinned at me, I shuttered. “As long as I don’t sing, you will be safe.”
“Siren,” I said.
“Yes, Dylan. I hope you don’t need your clothes,” she said.
“What?” I asked, then I suddenly appeared in the living room of my home completely naked.
Fucking fairies.
Two seconds later, my clothes appeared at my feet. My phone was buzzing in the pocket of my pants. It was Grace.
“Hello,” I said.
“You hurt my arm,” she protested. It almost sounded like a pout. Those beautiful lips. I could see them in my mind. I remembered the
way they felt.
“I am sorry about that Grace. I was frustrated. You won’t talk to me,” I said.
“Why should I when you hurt me?” she said.
I groaned, then slumped down on to my couch. “Maybe it’s because I wanted you to hurt too,” I said.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you, Dylan,” she muttered. “I didn’t know your heart was involved.”
“Well, it is,” I said.
“I can’t be with humans more than once,” she said.
“Right,” I replied. “But I’m different.”
“How are you different?” she asked.
“I’m the sheriff hired by the Sanhedrin,” I said.
“Jeremiah said that you no longer worked for them,” she said.
Fucking Jeremiah. “I don’t know what to say, Grace. You know how I feel,” I said.
“I’m not sure you’ve actually told me how you feel. Not outright,” she said.
Sure, I had. I told her in a castle in Greece while I held her hand as she healed from an attack of vrykolakas. I told her in the basement of an abandoned house filled with home-brewed absinthe. I’d told her a million times, and a million ways in my head. “You know,” I said.
“I don’t know,” she said softly. Why was she doing this to me? I couldn’t stand it. Maybe she just needed the validation to admit how she felt about me.
“I love you, Grace Ann Bryant,” I said.
She hummed through the phone like she bathed in my words. I waited, but she didn’t return the words. “I’m not allowed to love,” she said.
“It’s not something that can be held by rules,” I said.
“Unfortunately, voicing it can be,” she said.
“You don’t have to say it, Grace. I know how you feel,” I said.
“Do you?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said. My breaths were heavy. I needed her.
“Then perhaps you shouldn’t call me trailer trash,” she said, then hung up.
I threw my phone across the room, smashing it into a billion pieces.
