"Love, the kind you clean up with a mop and bucket. The lost catacombs of Egypt, only God knows where we stuck it. Hieroglyphics, let me be specific. I want to be down in your south seas, but I got this notion that the motion of your ocean’s got small craft advisory. So if I capsize--"
Sean dragged her from his shoulder and placed a hand over her mouth.
"What?" Chloe asked in a muffled voice.
He took his hand from her mouth, scooped her into his arms and started up the stairs.
"You didn’t like it?"
"I dinna ken the half of it, lass, but the part I did, I dinna like at all."
"Oh--They thought it was funny."
"They think yer pissed, an’ they’ll be right about that. I told ya not to be drinkin’ the ale without somethin’ in yer stomach."
"I didn’t really like the stew."
"Ya like the ale well enough, though."
Chloe sighed deeply, looped her arms around his neck and rested her spinning head on his shoulder. "Not really, but the water wasn’t clean--Where are we going?"
"To bed, lass."
"Not the bed in that room," Chloe said. "It’s not clean."
"Yer a bit’o the fanatic on the subject of cleanliness, lass."
Chloe thought it over. "No. I’m just used to things being cleaner."
"I’ve nae wife ta manage the household, lass. But yer welcome to clean all ya like as long as yer here."
Chloe giggled. "You are too kind!" Glancing around hazily, she saw that they’d almost reached the bedroom. Tightening her arms, she lifted her head and caught hold of his earlobe with her teeth, nipping him. "So … are you going to finish what you started earlier?"
Sean stopped as if he’d run into a wall. For a moment, Chloe thought he had. "How much of that ale did ya drink, lass?"
"Not enough to for-get," she said in a singsong voice, tickling his ear with one fingertip.
He stared at her a long moment and finally pushed the door to the room open, strode across the room, and dropped her onto the bed. Expecting to bounce, Chloe hit the bed like a diver going into a pool that had been drained. It stunned her. For several moments, she thought she’d missed the bed altogether. Good thing she was drunk. Otherwise it might actually have hurt.
Pushing herself upright, she looked around at the bed owl-eyed. It was definitely the bed, not the floor. Sean was standing beside it, his hands on his hips, a confused frown on his cute little face--Well, not little, she amended. There was nothing on the man that was little--nothing. "What’s this thing made of anyway?"
"It’s stuffed with straw."
"Straw? You’d think it’d be softer," she said. Frowning, she crawled to the edge, pulled the mattress up and looked under it. It wasn’t really a mattress. It was a pad about four inches thick. Beneath it, she saw crisscrossing ropes that had been tied to the frame to support the ‘mattress’. She lay back on the bed carefully. "That answers that," she muttered. "I think I might have whiplash. Never mind, though." She smiled at him, patting the bed. "Come here, you gorgeous hunk, you."
Sean lifted a brow at her. "Yer a brazen hussy, Chloe Monroe," he muttered irritably.
Chloe looked him over with disfavor. "You, Sean Frazier, are a tease!" Rolling over, she put her back to him. Moments passed. Finally, he settled on the bed beside her and lay down.
The moment he did, Chloe pounced. Rolling over, she came up on the bed and straddled him, placing her palms on his chest. "Psych!"
Sean’s eyes widened. "What do ya think yer doin’, lass?"
Chloe chuckled. Reaching down, she caught the hem of her dress, peeled it off over her head and tossed it aside. Burrowing her fingers in the hair on his chest, she rotated her mound against his pelvis. To her delight, something immediately came up. She leaned forward. "Ravishing you," she whispered, then put her finger to her lips. "Shhh! Don’t tell anybody."
He made a sound that was half chuckle, half groan as she leaned down and began placing nibbling kisses across his chest while she undulated her hips, grinding her sex along his hardening shaft.
"Chloe … lass!" Sean protested in a strangled voice. "Yer kinsmen’ll have my ballocks if they find I’ve despoiled ya."
Chloe reached between them and cupped his balls gently in her hand. "What? These?"
He groaned in response.
She released his balls and slipped her hand up along his cock. Closing her fingers around it tightly, she moved her hand up and down. "Or does that include this?" she purred in his ear.
Sean seized her upper arms in a bruising grip and flipped her over onto her back, pinning her to the bed with his body. "There’s only so much a man can take, lass," he growled.
Chapter Eight
Chloe might have commented on his restraint except that Sean silenced her by covering her mouth with his own, thrusting his tongue boldly into her mouth and raking it across hers. She made a little sound of satisfaction in her throat, feeling heat rush through her as she tasted him, felt the texture of his tongue rubbing sensuously along the sensitive flesh of her inner mouth.
"Mmmm," she murmured, sucking his tongue, feeling a heady rush of fire through her as she thought about pleasuring him by sucking his cock.
A shudder of appreciation went through him. He broke the kiss, breathing hoarsely as he lifted slightly away from her to look at her. Chloe gazed back at him through half closed eyes. "I’ve been thinking about this ever since we were interrupted," she whispered huskily. "Thinking about having your cock inside of me, deep, so deep I could taste you, pounding into my pussy so hard it feels like I’m going to explode. It makes me so hot and wet just thinking about it…."
Sean placed a shaking hand over her mouth. "Hold yer tongue, lass, or I’ll be disappointin’ both of us," he growled.
She flicked her tongue out and licked his palm.
He jerked his hand away as if he’d been burned.
She grabbed his hand and sucked one of his fingers into her mouth, curling her tongue around it. Groaning, he lowered his head and nuzzled his face between her breasts. When she released his finger, he ran his hand over her body, stroking her, massaging her breasts, then shifted slightly away from her so that he could study her body as he skated his hand down her body once more. She parted her thighs when he paused, cupping her mound.
Looking up at her, he studied her face as he pushed his hand between her thighs. Gently, he parted the damp petals of flesh, caressed her cleft and paused once more when he found her clit.
Chloe gasped, coming off the bed. He stilled. She caught his hand, guiding him until he attained just the right rhythm and pressure to pleasure her most. She moaned as his ministrations created escalating sensations of delight within her, making her belly clench and unclench in anticipation of his complete possession. She felt fevered, disoriented by the pheromones that drugged her brain. Her skin felt tight, hot, and so sensitive the lightest brush of his body against her sent spirals of pleasure through her.
Leaning toward her, he suckled one distended nipple, still stroking her lazily.
She turned toward him. Lifting one leg, she slipped her foot upward along his leg, caught the edge of his tartan and pushed it up. Catching her ankle, he pulled her closer, draping her thigh over his hip. His cock nudged her belly.
Chloe arched toward him. Catching his head, she tugged until he lifted his head and looked up at her. "Now, Sean. Now. The condom."
He kissed her back, nuzzled her neck. "Condom?"
"Shit! Never mind, baby. I’m ready. I’m so ready. Fuck me now. Now!" she whispered feverishly. Reaching for his cock, she curled her fingers around it, guiding it along her cleft until she felt the head of his cock nudging at the yielding flesh around the mouth of her passage. Hooking her leg around him, she pulled herself toward him, frustrated almost to tears when his cock slipped upwards, sending shards of almost painful pleasure through her as it dug into her clit.
He pushed her to her back and moved over her, aligning their bodies once
more and thrusting. As wet as she was for him, her flesh clung to him, adjusting with agonizing slowness to the girth of his cock. Digging her fingernails into his back, she arched her back, thrusting upward to meet him.
She could hear him grinding his teeth, feel the bunched muscles in his arms and back tremble as he caught one of her thighs in one hand and thrust again, filling her deeply. They lay still for a moment, gasping, gathering themselves as her body finally yielded and the head of his cock butted up against her womb almost painfully.
She stroked her hands over his muscled back and tried to dig beneath the waist of his tartan. Thwarted, she pulled the tartan up and cupped one buttock, digging her fingers into his cleft. He jerked, gasped hoarsely and began to move, slowly at first, thrusting and pulling away again until no more than the head of his cock remained inside of her.
She moaned. Her body hung suspended on the verge of release and she was desperate to reach it. Reaching between them as he began to move faster, she shoved the bunched up fabric of his tartan aside and found her clit, massaging it as his cock stroked the quaking walls of her sex.
He picked up the tempo, thrusting and retreating faster, driving so deeply inside of her she thought she might faint. A high pitched sound, half moan, half scream, clawed its way up her throat as her body tensed all over, hovered for agonizing moments. When her climax burst upon her, it exploded through her so powerfully, she screamed.
He covered her mouth with his own, thrusting his tongue into her, groaning into her mouth as his body began to convulse with his own release.
Sated, weak, Chloe went limp beneath him as the last echoes of his culmination shuddered through him.
Holding himself slightly away from her on shaking arms, his forehead resting against the pillows above her head, he struggled for some moments to catch his breath and finally moved off of her, collapsing face first on the bed beside her.
Chloe was barely aware of him, barely aware of anything. She lay basking in the aftermath, a smile on her face. It was good as she’d thought it would be--better--mind blowing. She felt like the explosive release had scrambled her brains. It was hard to put two thoughts together.
But, maybe that was partly because of the ale?
"You were nae a virgin," Sean muttered, his voice muffled by the bed.
"Huh?"
He turned on his side, facing her, his expression carefully neutral. "I said, you were nae a virgin."
She lifted her brows in feigned innocence. "I’m not? I wasn’t?"
His eyes narrowed. "Ya ken whether or not ye’ve allowed a man to bed ya before."
She was still more than a little drunk, but it was easy enough to figure out that that was an accusation. "You don’t think I’d have let you near me with that anaconda of yours if I had been?"
"Ye’ve nae shame about it?"
There was a note in his voice that Chloe didn’t quite like. She turned on her side, studying him. "Is there a problem? Did I take your virginity?"
He glared at her, his face turning red. "Ya did not!" he growled.
Chloe shrugged. "Do you see me bitching about it?" she said coolly.
He stared at her a moment. "Are ya callin’ me a female dog?"
He was pissed. She should have been unnerved. Instead, she discovered that her own anger was rising to match his. She sat up and glared at him. "How about asshole? You like that one any better?"
"Maggie was right, ya are a slut," he growled, sitting up. "An’ I was just too blind to see it."
Chloe’s eyes narrowed. "For fucking you?"
"For fucking the other."
"The other what?" Chloe asked cautiously.
"Just who’ve ya been sharin’ your favors with, I’d like to know?"
A mental image of the high school jock who’d claimed her virginity and then bragged about it all over the school materialized in her head. Unfortunately, he was totally out of Sean’s reach. "Why you self-righteous ho’ dog! You’re pissed because I should have known I was going to meet you one day and held onto my virginity just for you? It’s not like you’ve been saving yourself for me!" She mimicked his voice. "I’m a man. It’s OK for me to nail anything that moves."
"It’s different for men!"
She nodded. "Because they’re ho’ dogs!"
He glared at her suspiciously. "What’s that mean?"
Chloe shook her head, but it did nothing to sober her. She frowned. "Wait a minute … what year is this, anyway?"
"Don’t be changin’ the subject. A ken yer trick now, lass. Ya thought ta convince yer kin that I’d despoiled ya so I’d be forced to marry ya!"
"You are so NOT funny! As IF I’d have you!"
"I’ll not be offerin’!" he growled, rolling off the bed and glaring at her, his fists planted on his hips.
"Just as well," she snapped. "I’d not be acceptin’!" she added, mimicking his accent.
Growling, he stormed from the room, slamming the door so hard behind him that it bounced open again. Chloe slid from the bed and stomped after him. "Asshole!" she yelled down the hallway and slammed the door several more times before she slid the bolt home and began shoving everything that wasn’t nailed down in front of it.
* * * *
The sunlight filtering into the room pierced her eyelids and went straight into her brain like a spike someone was hammering into her skull. Chloe squeezed her eyes tightly and felt around for something to block the piercing light. Finally, grabbing the edge of the cover, she pulled that over her head.
It was musty. She sat up, sneezing so hard she almost bit her tongue. She was surprised her head didn’t explode.
A keening sounded in her ears. It scared her. She thought for several moments that she actually had damaged something. She realized after a couple of moments that the sound was coming from outside.
It sounded like people crying, Chloe realized, feeling a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. Throwing the cover off, she rolled out of the bed. The floor was freezing, even at this time of the year. Wincing, she looked around and finally found the dress she’d discarded the night before. Pulling it over her head, she went to the window and discovered it was not only narrow, it was high. Looking around, she saw the chest she’d pushed in front of the door the night before and went to it, tugging at the leather strap. It didn’t budge and she wondered how she’d managed to move it the night before.
Mad. She could do things when she was really mad that she had trouble doing otherwise. She studied it a couple of moments with her hands on her hips and finally moved around to the other side, bent over and began pushing it. She’d broken a sweat by the time she managed to position it under the window.
Climbing on top of it, she pulled the stiff covering loose and peered out.
It was a funeral procession. There was no doubt at all in her mind about that, despite the fact that she couldn’t really see that much from her position. Wooden boxes sat in the backs of several carts, pulled by huge cows. Wailing women and somber men escorted them.
It must be the men that had been killed the day before in that attack, she decided, feeling guilty for no reason that she could immediately perceive.
Finally, she remembered the party downstairs the night before … and more specifically, her performance.
Blood gushed into her cheeks. She put her fingers over her mouth, horrified. What had she been thinking?
She’d drunk too much alcohol--whatever that was they’d put in her drinking cup had had a hell of a punch, and she wasn’t used to drinking anyway.
Not that that was an excuse, or even the fact that she hardly understood two words out any three these people spoke.
She placed a hand to her heated forehead, and then her cheeks, trying to cool her blush.
"This is terrible!" she muttered. They disliked her only for being a Monroe, and now she’d given them something to really dislike her for--a complete insensitivity to their loss.
Tying the window thingy down again, she climbed off the tr
unk and sat down on it. She really needed to get out of this place.
Sean was totally pissed at her now. Not that she cared--the asshole! There she’d just had the best sex of her entire life. She doubted she would ever, in a million, million years meet anybody that did what he’d done for her. And then he had to be a complete asshole about that virginity thing!
Apparently, it was really important here, in this time. She supposed she should have expected it. Things had been different in her grandmother’s time, too. The problem was, she’d been drunk. She wasn’t really inclined to think things over a long time before voicing her opinion when she was stone cold sober. Give her a drink or two, and whatever popped into her brain spilled out of her mouth.
It sucked! She really liked Sean, too. She had. Now, she was pretty sure she didn’t--or at least, she was sure she didn’t want to.
Obviously, she wasn’t supposed to be here. She wasn’t cut out for this at all. Her coming here must be more like Murphy’s Law than the whim of some crazy fairy, or fate, or whatever.
But how was she supposed to get back?
She wasn’t even altogether sure that it was the fairy ring that had brought her, or the wish, for that matter. Maybe, like Murphy’s Law, she’d just happened to stumble into a rip in time, or something like that. It might still be where she’d found it last, and it might not. It could be a one way thing and maybe she’d have to find a one way going in her direction?
She finally decided she had to at least try the spot to see if it’d work. It was chancy. If the thing was one way into the past, there was no telling where she might end up.
That thought was almost enough to convince her not to try at all.
This place was bad enough, but at least it had a grain of promise if she couldn’t get back to her own time.
On the other hand, she was beginning to get some bad vibes about this place. There was no telling how Sean might react to the discovery that she really wasn’t one of the Monroes and he really wasn’t going to get any ransom for her. Just look how outraged he’d been about her virginity … or lack thereof!
The Fairy Ring Page 6
