"Someone here?" a second voice called out. Male this time, but also sounding elderly. Spoken more quietly, "There's no one in here, Beverly."
"I know. I heard it. I heard someone in here Herald," the female voice said.
"We're sorry. It was just us," Shamus called out, snatching up Suzanne's hand as he stood, urging her to follow him around the cupids and into the elderly couple's line of vision.
If she could have seen her face in the mirror Suzanne was certain it would be drained of all colour, with guilt written all over it.
"It was just a couple of young people admiring your work Beverly," the man said.
The couple were easily in their eighties. Both of them were somewhat on the short side; just barely over five feet in height, the wife only slightly smaller than her husband. While the wife's hair was white and tied up into a tight bun on the top of her head, the husband's head was devoid of a single strand of hair. They wore identical silver-rimmed glasses and grey running suits. Easily one of the cutest elderly couples Suzanne had ever set eyes on.
The wife wasn't about to let their intrusion of her garden go so easily. "Has either of you been stealin' my roses?" she demanded, her eyes narrowed at them from behind her thick glasses. Her glare moved from one guilty face to the other.
"They have no roses in their hands Beverly. No one has been stealin' your roses," her husband assured her.
The wife reached out and pointed her thin, shaky index finger from Suzanne to Shamus then back to Suzanne. "Guilt’s written all over their faces, Herald. They were up to no good."
Suzanne stole a glance in Shamus's direction.
As if sensing her watching him, Shamus turned his eyes from the couple, who were now huddled together in what looked like a small argument, over to meet Suzanne's. He smiled sheepishly and shrugged.
"We are sorry. We were just admiring your fine garden," Suzanne said, interrupting their argument and bringing their attention back to her.
The wife seemed to relent somewhat, her expression softening. She nodded. "Well thank you young lady. Come in whenever you like." Her expression hardened a notch once more, "as long as you promise not to be stealin' my roses."
"You have our word," Shamus confirmed. Giving Suzanne's hand a tug he ushered her forward, past the couple and out of the garden plot. There was a rushed exchange of good-byes with the other couple as they started to leave. Embarrassment now showing on the faces of both Shamus and Suzanne, they scurried out of the garden plot like two teenagers who had almost been caught by their parents for making out.
"Never a dull moment around you, Winters," Shamus teased as they made their way to the gardens’ exit and were out of earshot from the elderly couple.
Suzanne looked up into his dark eyes and nodded in confirmation. "Indeed."
****
Suzanne, assisted by Shamus, cleared the kitchen table, after having eaten the best chicken dinner Suzanne had ever tasted. Shamus had prepared it. It occurred to her that she hadn't gotten around to calling in to work to report her absence for the day. Dropping the plate she had in her hand she made her way into the living room to check the answering machine. The light on the machine flashed the number three in bright red numbers.
She was about to press the play button when she stopped herself. Looking over at Shamus, hands deep in dish water she decided hearing her boss scold her for not showing up would do nothing but ruin what had turned out to be one of the most enjoyable days she'd had in a very long time.
Besides, she only had a few days left there. During dinner they had talked extensively about a lot of things. She'd shared a fair amount about herself, personal stuff, but Shamus still hadn't said anything personal about himself. Namely, where he really lived and what he really did for a living. She was going to get to the bottom of those mysteries this evening, before whatever was developing between them intensified.
Just thinking about earlier this afternoon, Shamus with his lips travelling down her neck and further down, kissing and nipping, sent fresh shivers down her spine, beginning at the top of her head and pulsating between her legs. She caught herself just as a soft moan attempted to escape her lips.
"Suzanne?" The deep, sexy voice of Shamus came from behind her, distracting her from her momentary daydream.
Snapping herself back to reality, Suzanne drew her hand away from the play button on the answering machine. Spinning around to face him, she couldn't help the smile that played on her lips at the sight of him, standing in front of her sink, elbow-deep in the soapy dishwater. She'd need to add adorable to his list of qualities. Adorable, mysterious and sexy – what a lethal combination!
"You really don't have to do those," Suzanne protested for the third time since he plunged his hands in the dish water. "You're my guest," she added as she made her way back into the kitchen to stand next to him.
Snatching up a dish towel she began to dry the wet dishes as he passed them to her. Where do I start to get the info I want? she mused, putting a dinner plate in the overhead cabinet. "So tell me about your work. Anything interesting going on?"
Shamus stopped washing to look over at her, eyebrow arched.
Well, no getting one over on him Winters, she scolded herself.
Silence overtook the room for the span of several beats.
"I'm actually working on a big case right now," Shamus replied, rinsing off another dinner plate.
"Really?"
"Indeed. It's... a complicated one." Shamus passed another cleaned dinner plate to Suzanne. Their fingers touched in the transfer of the plate causing a rainbow of colours to flare up between them. An instant later, it was gone, as if the spark of colour was simply a figment of her imagination.
Frustrated, Suzanne set the plate on top of the previous one in the overhead cupboard and tossed the dishcloth onto the counter. Her hands planted firmly on her hips she turned to face him. "I need to know the truth. Who are you? What you do, specifically? Where are you from? Enough with the vague, cryptic answers."
"Suzanne, everything I have said to you has been the truth. Everything. You are choosing not to believe me." He stopped washing to face her, wiping his hands dry on the dishtowel she had discarded.
"You want me to believe you're a leprechaun from some alternate reality? Or dimension? Or whatever it was you referred to it as?" Her eyes narrowed at him. "Okay, then how do you travel back and forth?" A smug smile adorned her face. She had him now. She couldn't wait to hear the load of crap he was about to feed her about that!
Shamus grinned, lifting his left hand out in front of him. On his index finger he wore a thick gold ring, the band lined with small emeralds, its top featuring a Celtic crest that she couldn't quite identify.
"So you have a teleportation ring?" Suzanne rolled her eyes. "Let me guess. You can't use it in the presence of humans. So you won't be able to show me how it works."
"On the contrary." Shamus's grin widened as he brought his right hand up and rubbed the crest of the ring.
And he was gone.
Suzanne blinked. Her brow furrowed. Where'd he go? "Shamus?" Suzanne called out, but received nothing but silence in response. Suzanne walked around the counter island that divided the kitchen from the living room. No Shamus.
"Shamus!" she called out again, a little more panicked this time. Her apartment was fairly small so she had fully investigated every room, every nook and every cranny within a few minutes.
Still no Shamus.
He couldn't have disappeared, she reasoned with herself. "Teleported," she huffed, "not possible." But it appeared as though it was. She continued to search, peeking out of the windows and door. Still nothing. He had vanished. Right before her eyes.
"He's got some sort of David Copperfield shit going on," she muttered to herself, peeking into the cupboards under the sink, but knowing she'd come up empty-handed. He'd never have been able to fit in there anyhow. Certainly not in the blink of an eye, literally.
She heard a deep, masculine chuckle behi
nd her. Whirling around, she gasped upon seeing that Shamus had re-appeared behind her, and was now reclined against the kitchen sink, his arms crossed over his broad chest.
"How...how...how did you do that?" Suzanne took a couple of steps backwards, one hand to her chest, her eyes wide. She wasn't frightened, just surprised. Confused. It wasn't possible. But it was.
"There is magic in the world Suzanne."
"So where did you go? Just now."
"Back to my cabin, in Leprechaun Valley. I watched you search for me. Once I was certain you were satisfied I was no longer here, I came back."
The look of confusion adorning her face intensified. "What do you mean watched me? How often do you watch me?" Suzanne demanded, her confusion and disbelief giving way to indignation. How dare he just watch her whenever he felt like it? Like she was some sort of attraction!
Shamus spread his hands out in front of him, palms out in surrender. "It's my job. To watch, so I can help you get your luck back. So I can put you back on your destined path."
"How long have you been watching me?"
Shamus shrugged. "A couple of weeks, human time I suppose."
Suzanne could feel her face turning a deep shade of crimson. If he watched her anytime he wanted then... "Have you seen me naked?" she blurted out.
Shamus look a step backwards, hands still up but this time more in an attempt to brace himself for the impending assault he presumed was going to take place. "A few times, but it's my job."
"Oh my God!" Suzanne exclaimed, snatching up the dishcloth by one end and whipping his shoulder with the other, "You're a...a peeping leprechaun!"
Taking hold of the free end of the dishtowel as it was about to make impact with his shoulder for a fifth time, Shamus gave it a tug, sending her hurtling into his arms.
Suzanne yelped as she fell against Shamus's hard, warm body.
His fingers found their way into her dark hair as his lips came down to meet hers. His mouth soft, yet firm grazed hers, causing a soft moan to escape from between her slightly parted lips. Pulling her closer, he took her moan as in invitation to deepen the kiss, his tongue seeking out hers.
Sensations of pure pleasure pulsated through her body. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to give in to the waves crashing through her. The feel of the rigid muscle under her fingers as her hands explored his shoulders and chest over his shirt; the feel of his hardening, lengthening cock as he pulled her pelvis tight against him; even the smell of him, fresh and natural, all seemed to draw her in.
It was becoming evident with each touch, each moment that passed as their tongues wrestled, that there was something undeniably powerful between them. She'd never felt such intensity with anyone. All the issues that seemed to be concerning her about him seemed to slip away as she began to lose herself in his arms.
As they continued to kiss it felt as if she could tap into his feelings for her. She could feel how much be cared for and desired her. She knew what he had told he was true. He was a leprechaun. He did come from what he called the mystical dimension. But more importantly, they were destined to be together. She knew that now. She knew as her hands lowered to the bottom of his shirt and lifted it up and over his head that the beautiful, strong, kind, generous man standing shirtless against her was born to be hers.
"Do you feel that?" she asked panting as she reluctantly tore her lips away from his.
Shamus looked down at Suzanne, his eyes thick with the desire he was feeling. "It's the spark," he explained. "A way for destiny to make it clear who you're fated to be with."
"I've never heard of anyone feeling such..." Suzanne searched her brain for the correct words to use, to express the primal urges she was feeling for him, "...desire, before. Not like this."
Shamus hoisted her up onto his hips and set her on the island countertop. Then he replied, his voice strained, "I've never heard tell of a human having the spark. Normally, it's only something mystical beings receive."
Suzanne took a deep breath to steady herself and brushed a stray strand of hair from her eyes. She needed a clear head, at least for a moment. "So leprechauns don't..." Suzanne paused, chewing on her bottom lip, which was slightly swollen from the force of his kisses, "...co-mingle with humans?"
Shamus laughed, amusement joining the look of desire in his eyes. "Some do, as you put it, co-mingle. But mystical beings normally have other mystical beings as their destined mates." He reached out and grasped her hand in his; the spark created sent off a rainbow of colours as a result of the touch. "I just happened to be the first one I know of who is destined to be with a human."
Destined to be... the thought of being destined seemed surreal to Suzanne. Virtually everyone she knew, friends, family, co-workers, seemed to be replacing “soulmates” on a bi-yearly basis. It had gotten to the point where she, and virtually everyone she knew, had replaced the idea of soulmates with the idea of finding someone they could tolerate for more than a few days at a time. Even more miraculous was the thought that hers was a leprechaun, standing tall, handsome and incredibly horny against her at that moment.
"Well shouldn't leprechauns be shorter?" she inquired.
Shamus laughed. "Just a myth. I believe the trolls were the ones to start that. They're short, so I assume they suffer from slight height envy."
"So trolls exist as well?"
Shamus nodded. "And djinn, vampires, oracles, angels. They all exist in one form or another. The stories you hear may not be one-hundred percent accurate, but they all originated from somewhere. Loosely tied in with actual fact."
"Wow," she was beyond words. What he was saying was so surreal.
As much as she wanted to continue with the questions, her body was shouting for less talk and more action. Suzanne closed her eyes and savoured the feel of the back of Shamus's hand as he trailed it across her cheek. His touch was feather-light yet filled with affection. He traced her lips with his thumb, which she nipped at as it reached the center of her bottom lip.
Shamus chuckled as he pulled his hand away and began working on the buttons of her blouse. While he was occupied, she took the time to admire the definition in the muscles of his shoulders and chest. Suzanne's breath caught in her throat as he undid the final button and slid the garment over and off her shoulders. It fell in a puddle behind her on the countertop.
"So beautiful," Shamus whispered, his voice husky as he trailed a finger down her collarbone and across the tops of her breasts.
Suzanne placed her hands behind her on the counter, arched her back and let her head fall back. She sighed, feeling his lips graze the front of her exposed neck, working their way down to her collarbone.
His lips continued to work their way further down, ending between her two ample breasts. At the same time, his hands found their way up under her skirt, slowly making progress up the outer sides of her thighs, until he was able to cup her ass in them.
Suzanne spread her legs for him, inviting him to step between them. As he moved closer she circled her legs around his waist and pulled him tightly to her. His cock, still restrained within the fabric of his trousers, rubbed against her moist pussy. Suzanne moaned once again as the need to have his hardening cock inside her increased.
Moving down past her heaving breasts, Shamus's lips made their way down her stomach to stop at the waistband of her black skirt. His hands moved from her ass to push the hem of her skirt up to expose the white lace thong she wore beneath.
"I've been dying to taste you Suzanne," Shamus groaned.
Opening her eyes, Suzanne watched as his head dipped lower. His lips moved to her left inner thigh. The warmth of his breath and tickle of his tongue as it traveled from her knee to mere inches from her pussy sent shivers up her spine and produced goosebumps on her arms.
Shamus looked up to catch her eyes.
"Please," Suzanne moaned, urging him to continue. She placed her legs over his shoulders, spreading them further.
"As you wish," he replied, casting a devilish smile at he
r.
Shamus pulled the thin material of the thong aside to expose her quivering, soaked pussy. He parted the lips of her pussy to expose the hard nub beneath. His mouth captured her clit, his tongue circling the hardened nub, which his lips gently sucked.
Suzanne's body began to vibrate as the fingers from his free hand dipped deep into the wet warmth between her legs. His lips and teeth teased her clit, his fingers continued to stroke and explore. Suzanne's hips bucked against his mouth, as he forced her closer and closer to the edge. She moaned as he brought her closer and yet closer still. Suzanne's arms shook under the weight they were supporting. Her whole body begged for release, on the brink of collapsing completely.
"Come for me, Suzanne," Shamus coaxed as his teeth nipped at her clit.
Oh good lord, so good, so close. She groaned. Closer and closer.
"My god, Shamus!" Suzanne screamed out as her body tensed, then exploded. She was left feeling like jelly, her arms giving out on her, forcing her to lie back onto the countertop. Suzanne closed her eyes, breathing deeply, taking a moment to bask in the glory of the instant.
Hearing Shamus stand, then sensing him watching her Suzanne opened her eyes to see him leaning over her smiling. She returned his smile, reaching up, grasping the back of his neck and pulling his lips down to meet hers. He eagerly surrendered to her, kissing her tenderly. When he made an attempt to stand, Suzanne gave a low groan of displeasure, reaching out to pull him back down to her.
"I think we could find a place a little more comfortable than this," Shamus declared, grasping her ass with both hands and hoisting her up onto his waist.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, and legs around his waist she held tight to him as he carried her to the bedroom. "So do all leprechauns know how to do such a good job of pleasing a woman?" Suzanne asked, nuzzling his neck as he walked over the threshold and into the bedroom.
The bedroom was of average size, decorated in strictly rose and white colours. The bed was a queen situated at the center of the room with a white lace crocheted blanket over a rose comforter. The only light coming into the room was that from the moon peeping in from between the parting in the white lace curtains of the room's single small window, and the light from the living room.
Shifters, Beasts, and Monsters Page 21
