Ellora's Cavemen: Jewels of the Nile II

by Anthology

  “Caroline, I’ve recently been offered a lot of money for this house.”

  The fist in my stomach clenches tighter. I knew it. This is what I had been trying to protect myself from all along. “You’re going to sell the house? Move away?”

  “I’m not going to stay here without you. And I’m not content to take the tiny bits of time you allow me.” He drops his hands from my shoulders and I shiver. “I love you, Caroline. I need you in my life. In my heart. I want you to come with me when I go on tour again next month. We’re going to Europe. To Paris. London. Rome. You can bring your easel. You can paint while I’m playing, and when I’m not, we can walk together along the Champs Élysées. Through the Coliseum. I can show you the neighborhood where I grew up.”

  I can’t listen. I can’t be tempted. “And when you tire of me?”

  “What?”

  I struggle to keep my voice flat and unemotional when I’m screaming inside. “You’ll abandon me where I don’t know a single soul.”

  He puts his arms around me and I let him because I’m suddenly so cold. “Of course not. I love you.”

  I shiver anyway. “That’s what he said.”

  “What are you talking about? Who?”

  I hate admitting my weakness to him. “I couldn’t survive that again.”

  He leads me over to a lounge chair and takes my hands when we sit on the soft cushion. “Tell me. God, please tell me.”

  The words tumble from my mouth. “I loved a man once, desperately. More, I thought, than any woman had ever loved a man.” Had I really been that young and naïve? “I would have followed him anywhere. I did follow him everywhere, all over the country while he went from job to job. We’d only just arrived here in this little lakeside community. I knew no one. I didn’t even have a job.”

  I rub my hands up and down my arms. “One morning I woke up and the silence was crushing. I found a note saying he was gone. He didn’t love me anymore.” I close my eyes and feel the devastation as if it was yesterday. “I almost killed myself.” I open my eyes and look at Alan. “It frightens me now to think how close I came to killing myself.” I can still feel the razor in my hand, see the veins in my wrists, blue against the pale skin. I hate thinking I was ever that weak.

  “But you’re not that woman any longer,” he says to me, as if he can read my mind. He clutched my hands. “I can say I’ll be with you forever, but we both know there are things over which we have no control. I can promise to never be a cowardly bastard who would leave a note behind when I sneak out of your bed. But even if I did, Caroline, you are strong enough to survive.”

  I wish I could believe him. I blink away tears and turn my gaze away from him, up into the starry night sky. “I’m cold. I have to go.”

  “So you’ve become a coward yourself.” Disappointment rings in his voice.

  My head snaps back around to stare at him. “What?”

  “You’re afraid to try again. Afraid to love again. And by giving in to the fear, you cheat yourself.”

  The truth in his words wash over me. He’s right. I don’t like what that says about me.

  He kisses my trembling fingers and I find the gesture endearing once again. “Did you think it was easy for me to admit I love you? To ask you to come with me when I knew the chances were excellent that you would turn me down?”

  I shake my head with shame. “I’m sorry.” I’ve been selfish, not thinking about his feelings at all. I’ve been toying with him for months, using him for sex, telling myself that’s what he wanted too. But I knew better. Each time we were together, we grew a little closer, learned more about each other.

  Was I strong enough to let myself need him? To let myself believe?

  “I’m sorry you had to go through that, Caroline. But your past is part of who you are now. If you’d never followed him here, you’d have never fallen in love with this place and stayed. You’d have never started walking the beach at sunset so I could find you when the time was right.”

  I cup his beautiful face with my hands. His features are blurry through my tears. “You did find me, didn’t you?” I think of my lonely double bed. The CD I’ve played constantly. All the portraits I’ve painted over. “I do need you, Alan, and it scares the hell out of me. I’m not sure I know how to do this, but…I want to try.”

  “Don’t worry,” he says as he lowers his lips to mine. “I’m a patient man.”

  I kiss him tenderly. I soak in his warmth and I’m not cold anymore. As our lips slide against each other, the heat builds again. My skin quickly catches fire. Can I need him again so quickly? Can I love him?

  The truth hits me as I realize I’ve loved him for months. I’ll need him for the rest of my life. What a life we can have.

  I push him back on the lounge chair and he leans back and stretches out his legs. I glance around, at the starry sky above and the lake before us. “Can anyone see us?”

  “After what we did in the park tonight, do you even care?”

  I shrug and when I straddle his hips, my pareo bunches up around my hips. His cock jerks in appreciation and it tickles my pussy. I lean over him and brush my lips across his. “I love you.”

  His eyes fill with tears at the words and I work to ignore the twinge of panic that wants to spear my stomach. Maybe we’re getting a little too sentimental here. This is going to take a little time.

  “I want to paint you.” Painting I can understand.

  His smile takes my breath away. “Paint me?”

  I grin. “Would you be scandalized if I said I’d like you to pose nude for me?”

  He lifts his eyebrows and grabs my hips, pulling me against his once-again rigid cock. I shiver as it slides along my clit. “As long as you’re the only one to see the painting.”

  I look at the lights reflecting on the lake before us and try not to grin. “A man who walks around his deck naked shouldn’t care. I thought it might hang in one of those Paris galleries we’ll visit.” I rub against him again and my breath comes a little faster. “You’ve got me so inspired I might want to do a whole series of nudes.”

  Alan slides his hand along my thigh, and when he reaches my ass, he gives it a sharp slap. I gasp, but continue to rock against his cock. “When did you get such a sassy mouth?”

  “Since you loved me.” A weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so carefree. I rise onto my knees and guide his cock along my slick pussy to the entrance to my sex. I sink down onto him and our groans of pleasure escape into the night. As I ride his cock, I spread my arms wide and feel the breeze along my heated skin.

  Suddenly I freeze. No condom.

  Alan looks up at me. “What’s wrong?”

  I gaze down at the man I love and realize there’s nothing wrong. There’s nothing between us any longer, as it should be. I lean over to place a gentle kiss on his lips. The past is no longer important and our future is bright with possibilities.

  As we make love, I glance up at the spectacular sky and catch a glimpse of that crescent moon. Perhaps I have one dream left to hang upon its hook.

  Surrender Dorothy

  Anna J. Evans

  Chapter One

  Lions, and tigers, and bears…oh my.

  Gelsey Carland took a deep breath and tried to concentrate on Aunt Em’s ripped hem, then on the cold concrete beneath her knees and finally resorted to mentally quoting lines from the play in a last-ditch attempt to regain her shattered focus.

  None of it worked.

  Who was she kidding? Who gave a flying fig about lions and tigers and bears when the Tin Man was standing in the doorway in nothing but his steel gray bodysuit, waiting for her to strap him into his can?

  God, I’d like to have him strap me to something—like maybe that pole in the corner. He wouldn’t stop until he’d laid me bare, until he’d run the cold metal of my sewing scissors between my breasts and—

  “Is there a problem, dear?” Aunt Em, also known as Cora, bent down to peer into G
elsey’s face.

  “Nope, no problem. Almost done.” Gelsey smiled and prayed her lustful thoughts hadn’t shown in her eyes.

  Cora had forgiven her for being a sorry excuse for a costume designer, but X-rated daydreams would get her fired. She might look like a sweet little old lady, but Finley, Indiana’s resident drama queen didn’t tolerate fraternization between the summer theatre staff and the visiting actors. If she even suspected Gelsey was lusting after Mackenzie Fellows, Cora would kick her out of the summer stock housing faster than Gelsey could say “there’s no place like home”.

  Considering the past few weeks had been some of the calmest Gelsey had ever known—the power that had been her curse since she was a girl having been wonderfully inactive in this small town—she didn’t want to do anything to risk her newfound peace of mind.

  “In fact, you’re good to go. You look great, Cora.” Gelsey smiled.

  “Good. The meet and greet is already in progress. If I’m going to woo potential donors, I have to get out there. What about you, Fellows? Will you be meeting and greeting?” Cora’s voice sweetened markedly as she turned to address the man in the doorway.

  But who could resist talking sweet to a bronze god with dark brown hair that hung in waves down to his shoulders, bright blue eyes you could drown in and a body that could make a dead woman drool?

  “Of course. Wouldn’t be suiting up if I weren’t.” He smiled, but Gelsey could swear she heard irritation beneath that deep, rumbling baritone.

  Was it her imagination or did Fellows loathe Cora and her endless fundraising as much as Gelsey herself? Or maybe he simply hated Cora’s rules against getting involved with her “help”. She had caught him looking at her more than once, staring longingly in her direction when he wasn’t busy glaring at her like she was bubblegum he’d found stuck to his shoe.

  Maybe, just maybe, he had been lusting after her just as she’d been lusting after him. Maybe, even now, he ached to pull her into his arms, slam the costume shop door behind them and give her the screwing of her life right up against the wall. Maybe—

  “Gelsey? Are you well?” The man himself stood directly in front of where she knelt on the concrete.

  At some point during her fantasies, Cora had departed and Mackenzie crossed the room. Now he was close enough for her to catch the clean, sharp scent of him, a smell that reminded her of warm, rainy days in the Irish countryside, of a time before her parents were killed and she was sent to the States to live with her Aunt Claire. Gelsey was tempted to close her eyes and suck that smell down into her very soul…but that would mean shutting out a view far too tempting for words.

  Mackenzie Fellows’ cock had to be huge. Even at rest, the bulge Gelsey could see plainly through his bodysuit was an intimidating length. When he was aroused, he had to be simply enormous, so big it might even hurt a bit when he pushed that thick length inside her, no matter how wet she might be. And she would be wet.

  Hell, she was wet right now.

  “Gelsey?”

  “What? Oh, no. I mean, yes…I’m fine. Sorry.” She laughed, a high-pitched giggle she was sure Mac found ridiculous. He seemed to find everything about her ridiculous, from the wild gypsy skirts she wore to her pride at being one of the only people in town to sample each of the one hundred brews on tap down at the local tavern. He didn’t even like her cat, for god’s sake. She’d seen him scowling darkly at Dorothy during each of the company picnics.

  Of course, the cat was a pain in the ass. It wasn’t even really hers. She’d inherited it from the costumer designer before her, a woman so obsessed with The Wizard of Oz she’d named her cat Dorothy and dressed as Glinda the Good Witch—full time. Unfortunately, she’d also been too caught up in her own idea of how Cora’s version of The Wizard of Oz should be costumed. She’d gotten herself fired before the first actor rehearsal, making room for Gelsey to take her place.

  Maybe if she explained that to Mackenzie—let him know she really wasn’t a cat person, but couldn’t stand letting Cora send Dorothy to the pound—maybe he’d give her a second chance. Maybe he’d even consent to get more intimately acquainted with a pussy of an entirely different variety…

  Get a grip, Gel!

  Gelsey shook herself, trying to banish the fog of lust that seemed determined to keep swirling through her head. Sure, it had been a long time since she’d done anything with a man other than take his measurements, but that didn’t explain the way this man affected her. Even his voice made her ache, made her nipples tighten against her tank top until she thought she would die if he didn’t touch them. For a split second, she thought it might be worth being homeless to feel Mac’s hands pulling at her clothes, smoothing over her heated flesh, maybe even pinching her aching tips before he lowered his mouth to her breast, licking and sucking and—

  “Gelsey?”

  “What?” Gelsey jumped, blinking rapidly. “I’m fine.”

  “You’re fine?”

  “Yes, I’m fine,” Gelsey snapped, frustration with herself making her voice sharp.

  “You don’t look fine. You’re look like you’re in heat.”

  “What?!” He hadn’t just said that!

  Gelsey lifted shocked green eyes to meet his blue. Her view was partially obstructed by the auburn curls escaping from her ponytail, but Mackenzie looked amazingly innocent for a man who had just compared her to an animal yearning to rut.

  “I said, you don’t look fine,” he enunciated slowly. “Do you think it’s the heat?”

  Of course that’s what he’d said. She was just a pervert, a desperate, horny pervert whose ears were playing tricks on her.

  “No, it’s nothing, really…I’m just…woo-ah.” Suddenly the heat in the small room was stifling. Her cheeks fairly burned with it, a flush she could feel spreading down her neck. Her fair skin was becoming mottled and bruised looking, no doubt, but that was the least of her worries. If she didn’t cool down, she was going to faint, or yack, or maybe faint and yack—none of which was likely to impress her sex god.

  Maybe if she could just get to the sink in the corner, get some water on her face…

  She stood on shaky legs and immediately regretted the decision. The room spun, the bulbs surrounding the makeup mirrors blurring until the costume shop seemed consumed with an orange light. A light that would burn her alive if she didn’t get out of here.

  “Here, lean into me.” She could barely hear Mac, the pulse pounding in her ears roared so loudly. Her blood was boiling, surging through her veins with an unhealthy speed that made her feel alarmingly lightheaded.

  So lightheaded that…shit.

  “I’m going to faint.” Gelsey was fairly certain she whispered the words aloud, but couldn’t be sure. Mac must have sensed her distress, however, because he chose that moment to swoop her up in his arms.

  The world spun again. She had a split second to register how truly wonderful those strong arms felt cradling her against Mac’s broad chest before the gray dots dancing on the edges of her vision began to close in.

  “Little witch,” she thought she heard Mackenzie mutter against the top of her head, though she couldn’t be sure. Just in case, she put it on her mental “to-do” list to stop lusting after this jerk as soon as she could stand.

  Any man who would basically call her a bitch for daring to faint from heat exhaustion before she could strap him into his tin can didn’t deserve to be the focus of her hormonal cravings. Let alone the more ridiculous daydreams she’d had about finding some way to touch his heart the way he’d touched hers.

  The Tin Man didn’t have a heart. Every Wizard of Oz fan knew that.

  * * * * *

  Stephen considered taking two minutes to get out of his stupid bodysuit and into some street clothes, but the bright red cheeks of the woman in his arms told him he didn’t have time. The heating spell he’d worked in the room shouldn’t have affected a witch channeling a familiar’s magic so strongly. But for some reason, Gelsey had passed out, which was the
last thing he needed. He had to get her out in the fresh air, help her come to.

  But couldn’t this make it easier? If she were asleep when you stripped her? You could wake her up slowly, kissing down her throat, her breasts, running your hands up to find—

  “Damn it.” He cursed under his breath and made a run for the door that led to the outside loading dock. He needed to get out of the theatre before anyone saw them. Gelsey passed out in his arms would be bad enough, Gelsey passed out in his arms and him with a raging hard-on visible through his ridiculous costume would be a disaster.

  He wouldn’t need this job as cover after tonight, once they performed the Midsummer Rite, but he didn’t need anyone getting in his way either. He needed to get Gelsey alone, completely at his mercy and force her to surrender herself and her familiar. The cat she called Dorothy was under the power of the Minos coven. It had led one of the black witches right to her door. Thankfully, Stephen had found Mackenzie Fellows before he could kill Gelsey. He’d slit his throat and returned the remains to the chieftain of his coven as a warning.

  A warning Cronos had considered a challenge. He’d declared open warfare on the gray witches the day after, putting an end to the Sambucus coven’s hopes of avoiding any further bloodshed.

  As if inter-coven warfare weren’t enough to deal with, Stephen was discovered in the slain man’s quarters after cleaning up the remnants of their battle and was mistaken for Mackenzie Fellows himself. He’d spent the past three weeks fighting off Minos coven members, all while dancing, singing and suffering the indignity of strapping himself into a tin can for three dress rehearsals while he waited for the longest day of the year.

  He needed the power of the solstice to give Gelsey the mark of their coven. She was a strong witch, but with magic more easily bent to black than gray or white. That was why the Minos coven wanted her so desperately. It was also why her parents had arranged to send the girl away from the Sambucus coven, away from Ireland itself, in the event of their deaths. They must have hoped to hide her among mortals until she was of age to receive the coven mark, the metaphysical brand that would disable her darker potential.