Gennie shivered again, her hands slid up the swells of muscle on his arms.
"My sweet Genevieve. You promised me a shower."
The haze of desire muffled any hesitation she might have had. Gennie pulled back, grasping one of his hands to lead the way. “This way."
In the bathroom, reason took hold. Gennie moved away and busied herself by turning on the water, testing the temperature. When Cal slipped the T-shirt over his head, she gulped and stuck her head into the towel cabinet. Grabbing shower supplies, she dumped the load on the counter. Shoving the gel and squishy scrubber in the vicinity of a perfectly sculpted chest, Gennie tried to dodge out. “Okay. Looks like you're all set."
Cal grasped her wrist, stopping her escape. His eyes locked onto hers as if seeking assurance. The heat from the shower had begun to dampen the expanse of his torso. A grit-stained drop of moisture collected at his neck. The bead loosened and slid, drawing her eyes down over his chest. The bead ran down into the waist of the sweatpants.
"You promised to show me. Everything.” Cal gestured with the squishy scrubber and bottle of soap.
Irritable with sexual frustration, Gennie grabbed the items. “Fine. Okay. Get in the shower."
With prompt obedience, he turned and shimmied out of the sweats, toeing the shoes off with ease.
Gennie nearly swallowed her tongue. Green shower goo leaked onto her hand from her chokehold on the bottle.
His back tapered down to, yes ... his cute flat butt.
Gennie swallowed, caught between tackling him and grinning.
He turned around, shrugging the silvery fall of his hair over one shoulder with one hand. His fingers snagged in the tangled strands before he gave up and shook the digits free.
Gennie choked. Oh. My. God. Nothing cute and flat, or deficient there.
Cal ... no Excalibur's sword stood at full attention.
Her body burned. Her nipples pebbled, egging on the ache between her legs.
More green soap leaked down her hand and plopped on the floor.
"Ahem."
Gennie raised her eyes to his face.
Cal's intense blue stare trapped her. Silvery grey hair stuck to his body, roped down the muscles of his arm. He held out his hand. “Come help me, my lady Genevieve."
She didn't realise she'd given her hand until he pulled her inside the shower. Warm water soaked her shirt, bringing her back to reality. “Cal! We're making a mess. I can't..."
He twitched the curtain closed and took the soap and sponge away, setting them on the inside shelf beside her shampoo. Determination lit his expression.
This close she could see the pale stubble that outlined his cheeks and jaw line. “In olden times, the lady of the house would bathe her guests. You promised me a shower and I am holding you to your word."
"My clothes are all wet."
Cal grinned, crowding her close to the shower wall. “I can remedy that."
The wet shirt peeled up and over her head. Her gasp of surprise was lost in the wet fabric and the splat as it hit the bathroom floor.
His gaze riveted to the wet swells of her breasts over the top of her bra. Reverently, he closed his hands over them, sliding around to the back as he fumbled for a way to open it.
No more thoughts of insecurity stopped her. Reaching behind, she unclipped the fastener, allowing the bra to slide down her arms.
Cal hummed in appreciation, peeling away the material. His hands replaced her bra as mouth descended to meet hers. Instead of the quick teasing kisses he'd tortured her with during their shopping trip, this one pressed close. Hungry. Demanding.
Gennie stroked her tongue across the seam of his mouth.
Excalibur answered with a groan, opening his mouth to the intrusion. His tongue met hers, tangled. Pressing her against the cool tile walls, he forged into her mouth.
Gennie's hands tangled in the heavy cords of his wet hair. Tracing her fingernails up his back, she relished the shudder she elicited.
The thick hardness of his shaft rubbed against her. He pressed hard against her belly.
Suddenly, he pulled away leaving her to steady herself against the tile.
Silent, with deadly purpose, Cal stripped off her shoes and socks. Her cotton pants and plain-Jane panties hit the bathroom floor with a wet smack. Then he stood, stepping back behind the spray of water.
* * * *
Cal fought for control. His emotions rode high as he sucked in breath after breath. The sight of his Genevieve naked, wet, and willing made him want to shove her against the wall and thrust himself inside her until...
That thought shuddered through him. Cal forced himself to look away.
His eyes caught on the soap and strange pink sponge. Taking them from the shelf, he focused on the task of squeezing the bright green gel onto the pink netting. Setting aside the soap, he watched her through hooded eyes, working the sponge between his hands. The sharp clean scent filled his nostrils.
Gennie licked her lips.
Her wide brown eyes devoured him. Making him even harder.
"It's apple scented.” Her voice came out husky and deep.
Gods, he wanted to taste her mouth again. Instead, he crooked a finger at her, watching as she came to him.
The wet globes of her breasts swayed with the movement.
Cal locked his jaw, fighting to keep from taking her. It would be good, others’ memories told him. His body agreed, wanting to know how she felt around him.
"I'm supposed to be the one washing you.” She reached out.
He held the sponge out of her reach, shaking his head. “No. Hold your hands out. I want to wash you."
"What?” Gennie ducked her head with a siren's smile. Raising her arms above her head, she adjusted her footing. Her breasts jiggled with every movement. “Like this?"
Squeezing soap over her chest, he used his other hand to rub the slick bubbles over them. She moaned as he cupped her. Gently, he squeezed her nipple between his thumb and finger. Her other nipple, pouting for his attention, called to him.
He bent down and sucked the pebble into his mouth. He swirled his tongue around it, ignoring the bitter taste of the soap,
Gennie strangled out a sound. The same sound he'd been trying not to make each time she touched him today, however innocently. Her fingers tangled in his hair, accidentally pulling on the long strands.
He washed down her belly, his hand following the curve of her body. Finding a sweet nest of curls, Excalibur slid his fingers into the folds.
Gennie bit gently on the meat of his shoulder, clinging tighter.
Encouraged, he slid his fingers in again, then slowly pulled them out.
A shudder ran through her body as he dragged his thumb across the little nub in the front. In and out, he teased the folds. Fingering the nub he marvelled at how it swelled under his touch.
Gennie pulled away, snatching the sponge. She shook a finger in his face. “Oh, no big guy. You're not getting off so easy.” Making a face at the unintentional pun, she tested the sponge for soap, squeezing until suds foamed between her fingers. Satisfied, she trailed soap over his chest.
The sensation of her hands, the warm soap, and the slight friction of the sponge as it slid lower tore a groan from Cal's throat.
Her hand bypassed his painfully throbbing cock to cup his tight sac. Every upward stroke shot electricity through his body.
Cal choked back a yell and grabbed her hands, pulling them away. “Lady. Stop. No more.” A little desperate, Cal looked around the shower, unsure of what to do next.
Gennie's grin filled with mischief as she pulled down another bottle. “Oh. We still have to wash your hair."
"No.” Crowding her back against the shower wall, Cal carefully straddled the sides of the tub.
Automatically, her arms twined around his neck. Her breasts pressed against his body.
The soft pliant globes and their hard nubs made him harder. More desperate. He needed. Sliding his hands to cup her butt cheeks,
he caught her up against him. “I want this now."
Cal concentrated, sliding his cock against the slick folds he'd caressed earlier. When he had the balance and the rhythm he wanted, he thrust forward, sheathing himself deep inside her. He shuddered with the amazing sensation of heat surrounding him.
Pulling out slightly, he thrust in again harder.
Gennie's moan intensified the building pressure in his groin.
Harder and faster, he thrust, stopping at the end of her. The wet slap of their bodies urged him on. He wanted to drive himself so far inside that he never left the hot sweetness of her body.
"Ex—Oh, Caaal!"
Gennie squeezed hard and tight around him. Like a fist milking him.
Cal threw back his head, held her tight and thrust harder. The explosion started in his balls and consumed the rest of him. Every muscle in his body seized. A yell tore from his chest.
He slumped against the wall. His legs trembled with exhaustion. He felt both elated and drained at the same time.
Gennie's weight slid down.
Cal let her go, gently so as not to drop her. Or collapse and fall on top of her.
Resting his palms on either side of her, he bent. Her lips tasted like heaven. Pulling back, Cal looked at the ceiling, then back down into her eyes. “My lady, you have unmanned me."
Gennie laughed. Her hand reached up to cup his cheek. “No, Cal. You are all man.” She held up the pink net sponge. “Now let's get you cleaned up so I can introduce you to my mattress."
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Five
Gennie stretched, arching her back until the sheet slid from her bare breasts. A slow smile teased her lips. Every part of her body hummed in satisfaction.
Like everything else, Cal embraced his sexuality with awe and discovery. He placed reverent caresses all over her body. Each stroke of his shaft rubbed with deliberate precision over that sensitive place inside her. Every thrust brought a mini-orgasm that clenched her body around his. At the end, Cal finally lost his amazing control, slamming home deep inside her. That brought them both, screaming each other's name into the darkness. Then they'd dozed until Cal woke her again, trailing kisses down her back.
Gennie shuddered at the memory. Rolling over, she encountered the still warm vacant mattress. She inhaled his clean masculine scent while she cuddled his pillow.
Panic gripped her. Gennie threw off the rest of the sheet, stumbling to her feet. What if he was already gone? Trapped in cold steel. Encased in stone.
Gennie searched the bedside table for her cell phone. She'd call Merle and make him let Cal go. The bedroom door swung open while her grandfather's voice mail chirped in her ear. Gennie sagged in relief at the sight of Cal clad only in jeans. Walking in her direction, he gingerly carried two coffee cups. Between the scent of fresh brewed coffee and all that silvery-grey hair sliding over his bare shoulders, Gennie's voice cracked. “You made coffee?"
He held out one cup of wonderful black brew. The other, looked and smelled more like the French Vanilla cream in the fridge than coffee. “Yes. Sir Frank SpongeBob SquarePants, called on the wall device..."
His head tipped back in thought as he rocked back on his heels, making his hair shift deliciously. One male nipple peek-a-booed at her, disappearing beneath the silken fall when he bounced back upright. “The telephone. Sir SquarePants advised me to wake you. He said to pour plenty of coffee into you and make sure you were not late to the party."
Gennie sipped her coffee as he sat on the bed.
Cal looked distracted, lost in thought as he drank his own coffee.
"Sir SquarePants, huh?"
He didn't answer.
She sat down on the bed, drawing the blanket around her nakedness. “Cal? Excalibur?"
His expression impassive, he focused on her. Raw emotion glowed from his blue eyes.
Gennie reached out to touch his face. She worried more when he turned away, his hand covering hers and holding tight. “What's wrong?"
"I have been thinking while you slept."
Biting back a groan, her brain slipped into high gear. She had a plan, a vague one that had no chance of working. Merle championed the Greater Good like Nick passed out candy canes on Christmas Eve. If only she could cast the spell herself to keep Cal human.
She forced herself to calm down. Stewing on her inadequacies would only make this mess worse.
Cal took a deep breath. “I keep saying that I am only a mortal pretender. Yet, I feel much.” He held up his other hand, showing her a small gash from the fight with Mordred. He gestured to the discoloration on his ribs from the two of them pounding on each other. “I bleed and bruise."
Cal pulled free, taking her cup away. He set them on the white lacquer of her small French provincial dresser.
Gennie's breath caught as he turned back around taking both her hands in his.
Blue eyes, caught and held hers. “For now, I am a man. With all of the joys and responsibilities of a man.” He searched her eyes. “Do you understand?"
"No."
"In two days time, I will return to my proper state. Whether or not you accept your right to wield me, I will still be a sword."
"Oh, Cal. Don't.” She shook her head, squeezing her eyes tight against the words. “Maybe ... I've got a plan. It might work."
His grip on her hands tightened almost painfully. The harsh sound of frustration from such a large and powerful man might have frightened another woman. Cal could never frighten her. His goodness went soul deep. He didn't deserve this fate.
"Genevieve. Look at me. Listen to me.” She met his eyes again, swallowing at the intensity.
"When a man and a woman ... consort, there is a possibility of ... consequences."
"Consequences?” Light dawned much faster this time. Funny how this one question seemed to crop up so much lately. Leaning forward, Gennie gave him a soft kiss and a sad smile.
"Oh, Cal. If only I could conceive a child with you.” And she meant it too. Freeing her hand, she placed her fingers over his mouth. “Magic is a wonderful thing that sometimes has a terrible price. It can defend you in the dark from a burglar with a knife. It can tell you that your husband's life is leaking away.” Tears spilled over, running in a hot path down her cheeks. “But too much can burn through your body, and fry your insides. Kill a woman's ovaries. I didn't even know I wanted children until then."
Gennie sagged into Cal's comforting embrace. “Magic can't bring the dead back to life."
* * * *
Cal stroked a hand down her back. Burying his face in her springy curls, he kissed the top of her head. Would he keep these feelings after the transformation? He couldn't imagine not having his blood race at his Genevieve's nearness. Or being without the consuming desire to touch her. The sweet peace of having her in his arms. He did not want to become a cold, calculating thing again. An obsolete museum artefact. Gennie's pain made him hurt. Only an honest person would reopen old wounds to reassure him that he would not be leaving her in dire straits when he left. Deep inside him, Excalibur felt the magic that powered the spell holding him in human form tick off his remaining time. He wanted every experience possible stored away to pull out during his eternal isolation.
As much as Gennie doted on her mentally limited charges, she deserved to mother a child of her own.
Excalibur pulled back, tilting her chin up. Her brown gaze captured him, pulling at his inner being. He assaulted her lips in a hard fast kiss, instead of pulling her down into the mattress for more sex.
"Sir SquarePants said not to be late. There is still time for ... coupling when we return."
"It's called making love."
He searched her eyes again. “Arthur called love the Eternal Sacrifice. What do you think love is?"
Perhaps letting Gennie push him onto his back would make them late. The view of her breasts swaying over him drew his hands up. He cupped them reverently, testing their weight in his palms. Her naked, sitting atop his jea
n-clad thighs scattered his thoughts on love.
As a man, as a weapon of war, Excalibur's actions would speak for him. There would be no great revelation to pain Gennie more. If her feelings ran as deep as his, then she would need all the comfort he could give her. Eventually, she would find a human man worthy to marry. That thought pained him most.
"I think that we have plenty of time to make love before we leave.” She looked through her lashes, her devilish grin making his cock rise in anticipation. “And we have plenty of time for more when we come home."
* * * *
Gennie made a circuit of the house again, making sure their guests did not wander into the bedrooms. The guys’ paranoia that someone would make off with their prized possessions held some basis in reality.
Arms that didn't belong to Cal folded around her. She lifted up in a backwards hug. Gennie squealed and wiggled, recognising the familiar laughter.
"Nick!” She slapped at his big arm, laughing at his costume.
The huge meter and a half sized man slapped a hand on his red suited chest. His snow white hair pulled back to show the chiselled planes of his face. His black eyes twinkled with merriment as he gasped in mock affront. Nick grinned, slapping at the padding covering a very well honed body.
"You can't laugh at St. Nicholas. I am an institution."
"You're highly commercialised and you forgot your beard. Don't make me follow up on the institution part."
One black gloved hand rubbed at his freshly shaved chin. “It itches. The fake one makes me break out in a horrid rash."
Gennie snickered. “Santa with no beard? What will the kiddies think?"
He leered, leaning closer. “And what would you like for Christmas, little girl?"
A low sound, almost a growl, drew Gennie's attention to the kitchen archway. Cal glided to her side with the fluid grace of a predator. His arm settled around her and she leaned into him, inhaling the scent of him.
She felt every second as time crept up on them. She wrapped her arms around him, wanting to keep him close. “Cal, I want you to meet my friend, Nick."
* * * *
A thing of power recognised power. Excalibur stared at the offered hand for a long moment before clasping forearms with the old and powerful creature flirting with his woman.
Conjuring Cal Page 6
