Motor City Fae

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Motor City Fae Page 22

by Cindy Spencer Pape


  Ric’s tongue pushed into her mouth at the same time and she sucked on it instinctively, wanting all of him, any way she could get him. His fingers tightened, the tug on her hair almost painful. He was probably going to leave bruises on her butt, but she couldn’t care less. Every moment of making love to Ric was worth whatever the price.

  It was Ric who finally speeded up the pace. Without dislodging his penis from her sheath, he shifted one leg so that he straddled the bench and laid Meagan back onto the fluffy cushion. With infinite tenderness, he lifted her legs to rest on his shoulders, kissing the side of each calf as he went. Then he took her hips in his hands and thrust hard.

  “Oh!” The new angle took him even deeper than before and Meagan clutched the cushion with her hands to avoid being shoved up along the bench by the force of his thrust. She tightened her calves around his shoulders and pushed back, meeting him with each stroke. Once they had the rhythm, he released one hip and his fingers came up to find her clit, rubbing gently on the sensitized nerve bundle. Her building orgasm coiled almost painfully in her belly, tightening like a fist. “Ric!”

  “I love you, Meagan!”

  She couldn’t have heard him right, but it didn’t matter.

  His guttural words were enough to push her over the edge, and she called his name again as lightning burst behind her eyelids and shot sparks along her skin. The explosion of sensation seemed to go on forever. She barely registered Ric’s own groan or the hot, wet spurt of his seed into her womb.

  Afterward, he slumped over her, easing her legs down across his thighs. Still lodged inside her, he kissed her eyelids, her cheeks, her nose and finally her mouth.

  “Yum.” She smiled up at him mistily. “I could become really fond of this rose garden.”

  “I already am.” His soft chuckle was as warm as his touch. Then he straightened his arms, levering his chest away from hers. He bit his lower lip, a rare look of vulnerability flitting across his handsome features. “I meant it, you know.”

  Meagan lifted one hand and brushed a strand of his wheat-gold hair behind his ear. She kept her expression as neutral as she could, but her heart began to pound with hope. “Meant what?”

  He sat up the rest of the way, linking the fingers of both hands through hers to pull her up with him. In the dim light, she could still see him peering into her eyes.

  “I love you, Meagan Rose Kelly. And that’s something I’ve never said to a living soul. Not in more than eight hundred years.”

  There was so much she wanted to say, but her throat seemed to have swollen shut and her eyes welled with tears. She licked her lips and nodded, hoping he understood.

  He must have, or else he was reading her mind, because the strain in his expression dissolved as his eyes crinkled at the corners. “I’ve finally managed to render you speechless, have I?” Their hands were still entwined, so he leaned down to kiss away the single tear that had spilled down her cheek.

  She’d never even known that the word speechless could be taken literally before. She nodded again, swallowed hard and forced out the words. “I love you, Ric.”

  His broad, trembling smile was the sweetest thing she’d ever seen. Once that was said, the rest was easier.

  “And I’m more afraid of that than I am of Owain and his purists. We both know there are problems here. Not the least of which is your boss.”

  “I know. I’m trying to sort that out, I promise. After keeping you safe, it’s my first priority. I never thought I could feel this way, Meagan. I always thought that falling in love was for suckers. The ultimate con. And I was far too smart to get taken. And yet here I am. Head over heels in less than a week.” Something somewhere in his past had hurt him more than he either realized or wanted to admit.

  “Love isn’t a scam, Ric. It’s a gift, to be treasured.”

  He didn’t have any idea how to respond. All his experience with love had been to laugh at it. He didn’t know how to express his own. So he tried to laugh. “You’re a gift. That much is certain.”

  “Who was it, Ric, who hurt you so badly? Who taught you that love can’t be trusted?”

  Goddess, she was too damn insightful. And he absolutely could not look her in the eyes and lie, or even equivocate. “My mother.”

  “She left when you were young, didn’t she?”

  He nodded. “She never wanted children, just wanted to have a good time. She gave it a go for a decade or so, before she got bored with playing house and ran off with a djinn. It broke my father’s heart. He was a drunken, wreck of a man after that, which takes a bit for an elf. Liquor doesn’t affect us like it does a human.”

  “I’m so sorry, Ric. I can’t imagine ever abandoning a child, but there’s no accounting for some people. It doesn’t mean there was anything wrong with you, you know.”

  He managed a weak smile. “And you say you can’t read my mind.”

  “Did I mention I minored in psych?” She wrinkled her nose and grinned, obviously trying to lighten the mood.

  “Now maybe we should get dressed and figure out where we’re going to sleep tonight.”

  He heaved an exaggerated sigh. “If we must. Though I much prefer you naked.”

  She released one of his hands to give him a mock punch on the shoulder. “Yeah, well nobody else gets to see that. And when we head back to the house, there will be people there. It’s going to take me a while to get used to this whole servants thing. What the hell am I supposed to do with them?”

  “Let them do their jobs.” He stood, wincing as the skin of his ass stuck to the cushion for a second. “While you do yours. I know you need to paint, Meagan, as much as I need to sing. You won’t be here all the time anyway. But when you are, will it be such a problem to leave the cooking and cleaning to someone else?”

  “I guess not.” She chuckled to herself while she tugged on her top and jeans. Ric donned his own clothes and stuffed the tattered remains of her panties into his pocket.

  They both carried their shoes as they followed the smooth stone path back to the house. “Can we stay here tonight and go back to court in the morning?”

  He debated that for a second. The apartment was smaller, easier to secure. But he understood her need to connect with her past and even a cynic like him could feel the wealth of love and happiness that echoed through this house. And he’d be beside her, with guards right outside the door. “All right.”

  They reached the house and Ric raised one eyebrow at Kieran. “We’re staying here tonight. Does that work for you?”

  The guardsman nodded to Ric, gave Meagan a friendly smile. “I’ve got a team waiting on the other side of the portal, keeping it clear and I’ll be right outside your door. You’ll both be safe here until morning.”

  The housekeeper led them back up the rosewood staircase to the master bedroom, which had obviously been prepared in their absence. All traces of a masculine presence had been subtly softened and an abundance of fresh-cut roses filled the room. Chilled champagne, fruit and cheeses waited on a small table by the window. And a white lace nightgown lay across the satin duvet, along with a man’s silk bathrobe.

  “I guess they were on to us, huh?” Meagan’s eyes danced in the soft glow of the magical lamps that lit the room and her shoulders shook with silent laughter.

  “Looks that way.” He grinned back, feeling suddenly awkward. It felt—it felt like a wedding night. He had no idea if they’d be able to be together after tomorrow, they were both still in danger, but they had tonight. And he wanted with all his heart to make it a night she’d remember fondly for the rest of her life. He already knew he would.

  “If I remember correctly, there’s a bathroom through that door, right?” She pointed to a paneled wooden door in the corner of the room.

  “I think so.”

  “With a really bi-ig bathtub.” Her eyes were crinkled up again and her mischievous grin was back.

  He waggled his eyebrows and grinned back. “Could be.” He’d toured the place with her
earlier. There was a sunken marble tub. Definitely big enough for two.

  Meagan blew him a kiss and darted toward the bathroom door. “Race you!”

  The night was magical, but morning came far too early. Ric opened one eye and growled toward the insistent knock on the bedroom door. “Go away!”

  “Message from the queen.”

  Shit, that was Sean’s voice. What the hell was Kieran thinking, getting his son involved in this mess? Ric pulled the duvet up over a still-sleeping Meagan and dropped a kiss on her forehead before he slid out of bed and tied on the jacquard silk bathrobe the housekeeper had provided.

  With a finger to his lips he cracked open the door and slipped out.

  Sure enough, Kieran’s son stood outside the door in his guardsman’s uniform. Another man in the same garb stood watch at one end of the corridor, while a man in the Rose family livery held the pair of deerhounds at the other end.

  “What does she want?”

  Sean snorted and hid a grin as he ran an appraising eye over the robe. “You, apparently.”

  Ric winced and thumped his head against the paneling.

  “Fuck. I don’t suppose there’s any coffee in this place?”

  There was no way he was going to be able to face Llyris without a hot shower and caffeine first.

  The younger elf grinned and pointed toward a serving cart. Sure enough, a porcelain urn sat on a warming pad, next to an oversized stainless-steel travel mug. “Seems somebody warned the housekeeper.”

  “Thank you. Or your father, whichever.” He poured the contents of the carafe into the travel mug and sipped appreciatively. “Now what the hell are you doing here, Sean?”

  “My job, bard. I know you like to think of me as an infant, but I’ve been a sergeant for forty years. Time does move on.”

  Ric did the mental calculations and realized that Sean was probably well over two hundred years old. Certainly not a child anymore. “Fuck.” He took another swallow of the strong coffee. “I need a shower.”

  Sean glanced at his watch, one of the few items of technology Llyris allowed on her employees. “You’ve got twenty minutes, give or take, before Her Majesty has kittens.”

  “Yeah, yeah, we should all be so lucky.” Ric was already opening the door. A tiny smile twitched at the corners of his lips as his eyes immediately sought out the lump in the covers that was his beloved. “Let Lady Rose sleep another hour or so. She is not a morning person.”

  “There’s someone named Sinead cooling her heels in the library as we speak,” Sean told him, his expression amused. “She apparently thought she was in charge.”

  Ah. Ric was sure Sean had quickly disabused Meagan’s self-appointed minder of that particular notion.

  She’d growled at Ric all through the ball last night and pitched a hissy fit when they’d decided to come through the portal and visit the estate. He knew she was steering Meagan right, but also knew the shrew was putting his darling through her own version of elven boot camp. Let her stew for a while. “An hour.”

  Meagan didn’t wake while Ric showered and dressed.

  He debated the idea of blinking her fresh clothes, but decided against it. She had the ability to do it herself.

  She roused when he bent over to kiss her goodbye.

  “Is it morning already?” She returned his kiss before using both hands to shove her long tousled curls back out of her face.

  “Afraid so. Sorry I didn’t let you get much sleep last night. You’ve got another hour or so before you have to get ready for your meeting with the lord chamberlain, but I’ve been summoned.”

  “Bugger.”

  He laughed and kissed her nose. “Exactly.”

  “I won’t see you again before the council meeting, will I?” He made out the last words even though they were muffled by a prodigious yawn.

  “Probably not.” He nearly winced at the regret in his own voice. “But you’ll be safe. And you’ll be wonderful at the meeting, I’ve no doubt. I’ll come find you when I can. Somehow, I promise, I’ll come up with a way for us to be together.”

  “I know.” She gave him a beatific smile and sat up, tugging the blanket up around her breasts. “We’ve got all the time in the world, Ric. We’ll work it out, don’t worry. We don’t have to solve everything this morning.”

  Her cheerful confidence humbled him. “As wise as she is beautiful. Now take care, my love. And knock ’em dead.” He sat on the bed and took her in his arms for one last kiss.

  “Goddess, how am I supposed to leave after that?” He winced as his suddenly too-tight trousers threatened to amputate a certain portion of his anatomy.

  “Get used to it.” She grinned and snuggled back down into the pillows with another yawn. “Love you.”

  “I love you, Meagan.”

  Saying goodbye to Ric proved to be the highlight of Meagan’s morning, which didn’t bode at all well for the rest of the day. Well, not so much saying goodbye to him, but hearing him say he loved her, promising to work on a way for them to be together, that meant more than all the estates and apartments and tiaras that elf-world here could come up with.

  The lord chamberlain, whatever the hell that meant, was like Sinead squared. He explained the governing process of the Seelie Court and Council in such excruciating detail a kindergartener could have understood. She fought the urge to shoot him with a spit wad. It was clear he disapproved of her on principle, but she didn’t think it was because she was a halfling. He didn’t seem worried about that. Apparently the problem was her having spent the formative years of her life in the mortal realm.

  Still, it was useful to know what to expect from today’s council meeting. She now knew she’d be formally presented by the queen before assuming her seat and before any other business was attended to. That business being, of course, Owain’s petition to unseat the queen and elect a new monarch in her place.

  Despite Sinead’s objections, she dressed in a simple silk suit for the meeting. She knew the coronet was a requirement, but she wanted an outfit that made her feel confident, not like she was dressed up for a Halloween party as a fairy princess. Despite her grumbling, Sinead had managed to find something in rose silk, with a jaunty, 40s flair, which Meagan loved instantly.

  So now she had an hour to kill before the main event and her stomach was way too full of butterflies to allow her to eat or anything practical like that. She grilled Sinead about the other members of the council until the tutor threw up her hands in frustration.

  “Enough. If you have any more questions, we can go to the library and you can look up the answers yourself.”

  “Library?” No one had mentioned one of those, but of course there would be. “Cool. Let’s go.”

  The library was apparently in the same wing of the palace as the council room, so her team of babysitters decided it was an acceptable use of time. Boy, were they going to be having some interesting conversations as soon as this election nonsense was over. One of the reasons she liked painting for a living was not being constantly under the thumb of a supervisor. Meagan Kelly was not cut out to be anybody’s minion, especially someone who technically worked for her.

  So finally they all trooped down to the library. Sinead, Quinn, Liam with the two humongous dogs and the queen’s two guards, Sean and Alasdair. The only one of the entire entourage who treated Meagan like a person was Sean, the guardsman who claimed to be the son of Kieran from the night before. The whole overlapping generations thing was definitely going to take some getting used to. Kieran and Sean looked way more like brothers than father and son. At a guess she’d have put both of them in their thirties, but based on Sean’s remarks he was over two hundred and his father was a contemporary of Ric’s. She wondered if she’d ever get the hang of this place.

  The library turned out to be a series of spacious, booklined rooms with small, high windows and vaulted ceilings. At Quinn’s quiet request, they were given a private reading room, in the back of the library complex.

  Obv
iously reserved for VIPs, it was plush and comfortable. Golden sunlight streamed through the transoms high in the smooth plaster walls, while the magical light globes-filled candelabra centered on two wide oak reading tables.

  Sinead murmured something to the librarian, who was the first elf Meagan had seen with fully gray hair. Not white-blond like the queen, this man had a thick iron-gray mane. With sparkling blue eyes, a pointed gray beard and thick, bushy eyebrows, he reminded Meagan of Gandalf the wizard. After a quick explanation from Sinead, the librarian nodded and hurried from the room, returning a few seconds later with a fat red leather-bound book and a handful of glossy magazines.

  “Here are the official biographies of the current council, my lady.” He placed the book on the table in front of Meagan. “And here are a few more popular items.” He set the stack of magazines neatly beside the heavy volume.

  “Thank you.”

  He smiled, bowed and quickly backed out of the room, while Meagan turned her attention to the stack of material in front of her.

  Of course there were magazines here. Meagan lifted the top one and scanned the cover. Underhill Unlimited.

  The cover photo was of a gorgeous elven woman sitting side-saddle on a unicorn and it promised articles on everything from new spells for healthier gardens to a feature on Lord and Lady Willow. “Cool, it’s Belinda!”

  Setting that one aside, she looked across the table at her tutor. “Can I check things out to read later?”

  Sinead nodded, gazing pointedly at the official tome.

  Meagan rolled her eyes at Sean, posted by the door with Liam and the hounds. Quinn and the queen’s other guardsman apparently waited outside. Meagan picked up another magazine. Court Quarterly featured the queen on the cover and promised a run-down of the latest decisions and activities of the Seelie Council. Sort of a Fae version of C-SPAN. Perfect.

 

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