ParaMatch.com: A Tickle My Fantasy story

by MK Mancos

  Lucilla frowned at the clerk. “Two hundred dollars? For a few scraps of material and some wire ears? I’m not renting a car here.”

  The young man pushed his glasses up on his nose. “There’s a bit more to it than wire ears.” He unzipped the garment bag exposing a long white and pink furry something that most definitely did not resemble anything Hugh Hefner would have had serving drinks in one of his clubs.

  “Have you lost your mind? I was supposed to be a Playboy Bunny, not the Easter Bunny.” Lucilla winced as a huge orange carrot that could have been seen from space rolled out of the bag, across the counter and landed on the ground with a bounce.

  Goddess, this was not happening to her. She shook her head in denial.

  The clerk lifted the carbon copy of the order form from around the neck of the hanger. “It says here one medium bunny costume. It doesn’t specify what kind.”

  “Oh, so you just assumed it was the furry one who likes to hide eggs that get lost for months.” She leaned menacingly into his pimply face. “Do I look like the Easter Bunny kind, kid?”

  He shook his head. “No, ma’am.”

  “No, indeed. Now go back there and get me a Bunny suit.”

  He turned and fled, leaving the big plastic carrot where it lay.

  Lucilla put her arm on the counter, resting her face in her hand. Why did everything always have to be so difficult for her? She just wanted to be sexy and fun for her man.

  Her man.

  The words alone made her all warm and fuzzy. Kind of like a pink and white bunny suit.

  Laughter bubbled up from deep inside her.

  Should she?

  Oh, it would be too cruel for words.

  Mischief like she’d never known before had her ringing the service bell.

  The kid returned, shaking like he’d developed a nervous tic in the last minute and a half.

  “Look, I’m sorry. I’ve changed my mind. I’ll take the bunny suit. The furry one.”

  He gave her a cautious look. “A…are you sure?”

  “Positive.”

  Lucilla handed over the hefty deposit and laughed all the way home.

  Chapter Eleven

  The night was crisp and clear. The crowds electric.

  Overhead, a full moon hung low in the sky. In the center of the park, a bonfire blazed high into the heavens. People danced around it in costumes or formal wear. Food was laid out on long banquet tables, allowing partiers to graze at their leisure.

  Jager wore a light cotton shirt that draped on his wide shoulders. His pants were a dark fabric with a drawstring waist. He looked both elegant and comfortable. Lucilla leaned into his chest as she watched the crowds. Her big puffball of a tail added extra padding where she needed none.

  He’d been expecting a sexy bunny, too. She’d teased him about her costume as they’d lain in bed the night before and he asked her what she’d wear.

  Just let them get through this one night. That’s all she asked. But something deep inside her felt off about the evening. Though the sky shone clear, it was as if rain threatened on the horizon. And not a light, refreshing drizzle, but the mother of all thunder clappers.

  Jager’s arms came around her to hold her tightly. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  “I know.” She leaned back to look up into his face. Damn he was handsome standing there with the reflection of the flames painting his face in red and gold. She rested her big furry paws on top of his hands where they met around her waist.

  A lump formed in her throat. He’d known from the first time he’d seen her she was the one for him. He’d told her that the night before, as he’d made passionate love to her.

  Her breath hitched. She had to say something before it all came crashing down on them.

  She turned in the circle of his arms. Screwing up her courage, she looked up into his face. “I love you, Jager. I think I have since the day I first looked at your profile.”

  “Lucilla.” Her name had never been uttered with such raw emotion before. He drew her to him, his mouth descending on hers.

  Suddenly, the night was on fire.

  The beautiful bonfire exploded, sending dancers running for cover. Magic rained down from above.

  A spark landed on her suit, igniting a small patch of fur. It smoldered with the stench of burnt fibers. Jager beat out the ember with his hand.

  “Get out of here. I don’t want you hurt,” he yelled above the angry cries of the crowd.

  “Forget that. Your ex-wife and her minions just cost me two hundred bucks and ruined my party. I’m going for blood.” She picked up her plastic carrot, wielding it like a club.

  She might not have magic on her side, but she had something a hell of a lot worse—rabid bunny hormones.

  She reached up and pulled Jager down to her level. She gave him a hard kiss on the mouth. “Be careful. I’ll see you after I clean house.”

  “You be careful.” She started away when he pulled on one huge padded paw. “I love you, too.”

  Lucilla danced into the fray, looking for anyone who was over six feet tall and attacking the festivalgoers.

  Bright sparks danced overhead, firefights exchanged between witch and djinn.

  Lucilla came around the south end of the banquet tables and hopped up on them, looking for the heaviest fighting.

  Oh, goddess.

  Her Aunt Rebekah was busy trying to fend off a couple of djinn all by herself. Lucilla flew into the chaotic mass like the Bionic Hare, swinging her mighty carrot of terror. She fought her way over to her aunt. She kicked one djinn in the jewels, the other she dispatched with a swipe of her paw. They were heavier than they appeared and stuffed with something akin to boxing gloves.

  When both djinn were down, she put her foot on one’s chest, pointing into his face. “Looks like rabbit’s feet aren’t so lucky for you, buster.”

  “Lucilla, quit screwing around and help me.” Rebekah had a hold of a female Titan’s hair, holding her in place while trying to uncork a potion bottle with her teeth.

  The Titan struggled to get away from the much smaller, but very agile Rebekah. One would think, with as much power and brawn behind her, she’d easily struggle out of Rebekah’s grasp. But Rebekah had wrapped the Titan’s long hair around her fist and used an enchantment to force her to stay still. The Titan fought against the magical bonds.

  “Here.” She threw the vial at Lucilla. “Open this and pour it down her throat.”

  “What does it do?”

  “It’ll knock her out.”

  The Titan shook with rage as Lucilla pulled the stopper out with her teeth and tried to decide how best to get the liquid down the throat of someone twice her height.

  “Does she have to swallow it?” Lucilla sniffed at the contents and pulled back as noxious fumes made the images before her swim. “My guess is no.”

  Instead of attempting the impossible, Lucilla splashed it in the Titan’s face.

  “It burns.” The Titan rubbed at her eyes then staggered. She fell like the giant from Jack and the Beanstalk. No more fe-fi-fo-fumming for her for a while.

  “Excellent.” Aunt Rebekah grabbed Lucilla’s paw and hurried to help others. Djinn winked in and out of existence, faster than they became targets. Witches screeched overhead, dive-bombing the enemy like pointy-shoed Kamikaze pilots.

  Rebekah and Lucilla hurried across the park as fast as Lucilla’s fluffy feet allowed. They spotted Aramis and started for him when another Titan materialized in front of them. Lucilla looked up the length of the giant blonde woman. Her legs were longer than Lucilla’s entire body. She picked up Aunt Rebekah by the back of her cloak, choking the brew master.

  “Rebekah!” Lucilla jumped up, swatting at the Titan with her paws. It had no effect on the mammoth woman.

  “Put her down,” came a deep male voice from behind Lucilla. She turned to see Zeus staring at the female Titan with rage. “Haven’t you ever heard the expression ‘pick on som
eone your own size’?”

  The Titan let out a growl and charged Zeus. But he wasn’t playing games. He lifted a hand, turning her to a block of ice. Aunt Rebekah fell from a frozen hand, landing in the dirt.

  Zeus hurried to her. “Are you all right?”

  “I could have handled her,” she complained.

  Zeus smiled warmly. “Yeah, I know. Who do you think I was talking to about picking on people their own size?”

  Lucilla watched, amazed, as her aunt got a gooey look in her eyes and allowed Zeus to help her to her feet. Then her attention was diverted as something big and angry, dressed in an expensive white shirt, flashed in her periphery. Lucilla lost interest in watching the battle. All her attention focused on the man who bore down on his prey like an eagle with deadly talons at the ready.

  Jager pointed to the ground. She looked to see if there was something at his feet. But there was nothing.

  He stalked forward, his gaze fixed on his ex-wife.

  Rhea shook her head in denial of whatever Jager meant to do.

  He extended his hand again. Even from where Lucilla stood, she could see power radiating out of his fingertips. Hadn’t he lost all his godly powers after his fall?

  The ground shook.

  Long cracks appeared like a gorge through the center of the park. Lucilla couldn’t hear Jager’s shouted words, but their intent put fear on the faces of those who had.

  “It’s over, Rhea.” Jager continued to force the ground to quake under their feet. It must have been a small trick left over from his days of ruling heaven and earth, but as a bluff, it was effective. “This little coup of yours is finished.”

  “Cronus, how can you turn against your kind?” Fear widened her eyes.

  “I owe no allegiance to you or our kind. I will, however, help to mend the rift between the witches and Titans.” At her surprised expression, he sent another tremor moving through the ground and forced a lightning bolt to hit the ground. “Always you wanted more than your share. And even more wasn’t enough. Your greed stops tonight.”

  He no longer had the power to send her away, but that didn’t mean some of his newly acquired friends and soon-to-be family lacked the skill. “Aramis!”

  The wizard materialized beside him as if the outcome of the evening had been preplanned. “You bellowed, your godliness?”

  “Dispatch my ex to Hades. Let him worry about his mother for a while.”

  “No. Not Hades. He hates me.” Rhea tried to stand, but another jolt to the ground sent her tumbling back on her behind.

  “Too bad. You should have thought of that before you spent an eternity scheming.”

  Aramis reached down and pulled the Titan to her feet. He looked way up into her face and gave a dark smile. “Some days I really enjoy my power. This is one of them.”

  They disappeared in a flash of light.

  Without their leader, the remaining Titans fled the field. The djinn disappeared like mist on the wind.

  A loud cheer went up through the Parakind.

  Lucilla ran to Jager. He turned just as she took a flying leap up. He caught her in his arms, holding her to him.

  “You. Were. Amazing.” She punctuated each word with a kiss.

  “So were you. I saw some of the damage you did with that carrot. Remind me never to sneak up on you when you’re holding vegetables. You could be downright lethal with celery.”

  Lucilla threw her head back and laughed.

  Jager pulled her closer. “So, what do you say? You think we’re a good match now, Lucilla?”

  She sobered, holding his beloved face between her paws. “Oh, yes. Close to one hundred percent, I’d say.”

  “And your family? Do you think I’ve managed to put their reservations to rest?” Though he smiled, there was tension around his eyes. Worry. Her answer meant that much to him.

  She smiled largely. “Marry me and find out.”

  “Lucilla.” Her name said in that husky, passionate way was all the answer she needed.

  As for her family, they whooped and hollered, gathering around them in a circle to perform a bonding dance.

  Oh, yeah. They were with them all right. Amazing what a little cross-species cooperation could do.

  They continued to kiss as the Parakind gathered more wood and built the bonfire anew. This would be one Legion Halloween Dance for the history books.

  About the Author

  To learn more about MK Mancos, please visit www.MysticKat.com or send an email to MysticKat1965@yahoo.com.

  Look for these titles by MK Mancos

  Now Available:

  Dragon Tamer writing as Kathleen Scott

  Solarion Heat writing as Kathleen Scott

  The Host: Shadows by MK Mancos

  By A Silken Thread by MK Mancos

  Coming Soon:

  Scythe by MK Mancos

  Tickle My Fantasy Anthology

  The Ghost Shrink, the Accidental Gigolo & the Poltergeist Accountant by Vivi Andrews

  Carolina Wolf by Sela Carsen

  Witches Anonymous by Misty Evans

  It’s not smart to piss off a poltergiest

  The Ghost Shrink, the Accidental Gigolo & the Poltergeist Accountant

  Ó2009 Vivi Andrews

  A Tickle My Fantasy story.

  It’s bad enough to be sexually frustrated. But as a medium, it means until Lucy Cartwright gets some, she’s doomed. Oh no, not to death. Worse. To nightly visitations by recently deceased, wanna-be Cassanovas without the bodies to back it up. Then a living, breathing fantasy arrives on her doorstep, and Lucy thinks her dry spell is at an end.

  Much as he would like to be Lucy’s personal gigolo, PI Jake Cox has a job to do. He’s been sent to prevent her from getting laid until a particular horny phantom—and key witness in his mob investigation—pays her a visit. The real challenge? Keeping his own hands off Lucy long enough to get the job done.

  Or the lonely, geeky ghost of a murdered mob accountant could rip a hole in the fabric of the universe…

  Warning: This book contains cheesy pick-up lines, amateur stripteases, and voyeuristic intentions—all by dead men. And the living behave just as badly...

  Enjoy the following excerpt from The Ghost Shrink, the Accidental Gigolo & the Poltergeist Accountant:

  Lucy slipped past the eye-candy in her kitchen, set the timer and shoved the muffin tray into the oven. Then she heard him breathing. He’s allowed to breathe, dammit, she told her hormones, but they weren’t listening. They were already summoning up fantasies involving breathing. And panting. And gasping.

  So Lucy gasped, and swore, as her hand brushed the hot oven rack. She snatched her hand out of the oven, mentally cursing her stupidity, and slammed the door closed.

  “Did you burn yourself?” Jake demanded, stepping forward and immediately taking control.

  He caught her wrist and held it up for inspection. Seeing the vivid red welt rising on the back her hand, he tugged her over to the sink and turned on the faucet with a single-minded economy of movement that was somehow indescribably hot.

  Dear God, I’m doomed. Even his first aid is sexy.

  He temperature-tested the tap with his own hand before thrusting her burn beneath the cool, running water. “Keep it there,” he ordered, already on his way to the freezer. He was back a moment later, a clean dishtowel wrapped around a bundle of ice. “Here, let me see.”

  He gently took her wrist and drew her hand out of the water, cautiously inspecting the burn. His attention was so focused, so intent, as he brushed the soft skin around the burn with his fingertips, careful not to touch the wound itself. He bent and blew cool air on her hand before gently pressing the ice pack over it, his concentration complete. Lucy couldn’t help but wonder if he would bring that focus and intensity to everything he did. A delicious shiver ran down her spine.

  “I know it’s cold,” he said, and Lucy was relieved he didn’t suspect the real reason for her shivering—she was embarrassed enough already. “You ne
ed to keep it on there for twenty minutes or so.”

  “Thank you,” she said quietly.

  Jake shook his head abruptly, rejecting her gratitude. “My fault. I shouldn’t have been distracting you while you were cooking.”

  “You weren’t distracting me,” Lucy lied, knowing she was blushing. Again.

  “No?” He arched his eyebrows skeptically then reached up to brush the back of one finger against her cheek. “You have flour all over your face.”

  Lucy winced internally. Great. Now, not only was she as red as a turnip, she had the distinction of being a blotchy, flour-coated turnip with a propensity for burning herself. Oh yeah, he wasn’t going to be able to keep his hands off her now.

  She waited for him to laugh at her. She waited for him to turn away, writing her off as ridiculous. She waited…until he tipped her chin up, forcing her to meet his eyes. Eyes that didn’t look mocking or superior, but rather curiously intent.

  Oh my.

  He brushed at the clinging flour on her cheeks, his calloused hands tentatively caressing. Lucy gazed up at him, trying to remember how to breathe, or think, or do anything other than stare at him with her heart in her throat and her stomach down around her toes. They were standing near the oven, but Lucy had a feeling the burning sensation rippling along her skin had more to do with the mountain of solid muscle in front of her than the oven behind. He smiled gently, his hands still cradling her face. “Even without the flour, you look pretty damn edible,” he murmured, his voice low and intimate.

  The world slowed and tightened until they were the only two people in it, and time was frozen in that thick moment when she knew he was about to kiss her. She stood paralyzed, hopeful, but not allowing herself to hope.

  He bent toward her slowly, his gorgeous black eyes shuttered by thick black lashes. Lucy’s eyes fell closed and she held herself perfectly still, desperate, waiting. When his lips finally touched hers, it was like putting a spark to a fast-burning fuse. A fuse attached to a stick of dynamite.