“Nothing wrong with that, is there?”
“No, but he’s only four inches tall. What do you think that means?”
Pushing the book across the counter, Sidney merely shrugged and kept back the laughter until Vanessa exited.
“No way,” Sidney sputtered on giggles when the library was clear. “I wonder if Dart knows she’s dreaming of him? He’s such a stud, even the mortal women dream about him.”
My stud, she thought. Which reminded her, if she wanted to keep said stud, she had some research to do.
Slipping into the office, she then tapped into the Faery database through her ScryeTracker™. Her contact took the necessary info: child’s name, date, location.
“Sandra Hanson. Female,” the systems operator repeated. “Age: thirty-six mortal years. Current city of residence: Reverie, Minnesota. Er, right. That was a casualty from the er . . . incident.”
“Incident?” Sidney stared into the handheld like it was going to combust.
“Can’t give you details. You’re not authorized. Let’s just say that’s why Night Workers are not allowed to fraternize. Things go wrong. Teeth get forgotten. Flowers die. Birthday parties are minus faery godmothers. Anything else you need, Tooth?”
“Erm, no?”
“Before you go . . . there’s a notation on your record here. Having a little trouble in Reverie, are you?”
“What makes you say that?” They knew. Of course, she’d known they would know.
“You haven’t picked up a TLFR in days.”
Because none had been reported. Duh.
“Well, that’s not unusual,” Sidney quickly replied. “It’s a small town. Teeth go in cycles. Some days, kids drop them like marbles. Other days, there’s nary a toothbrush taken out at bedtime. No problems here—”
“Hold on, Tooth. Sidney Tooth. Reverie registered tooth faery number one-seven-eight,” the operator said, now all business. “Prepare for retrieval. You’ve got twenty-four mortal hours.”
“But—”
“Signing out.”
Sidney dropped the ScryeTracker™ onto the desk with a clatter. Retrieval in twenty-four hours? Her stomach flip-flopped like a claustrophobic koi in a kiddie pool.
“Retrieval?” She plopped onto the creaking office couch, arms spread.
Was all hope lost?
“I hope your plan works, Dart. Or I’m one recalled faery.”
Dart’s plan to not dust the mortal mothers could go off without a hitch. Unless the mothers avoided sex for reasons beyond Sidney’s understanding. It was entirely possible they had good sex lives but were just naturally uptight.
“He knows what he’s doing. He seems to be up on skulking about and flying under the radar. He’s like a mortal James Bond. Mostly. Okay, not so much. More like a surfer Casanova. All gold eyes and charming smiles. And those huge wings,” she said appreciatively.
Her thoughts easily drifted from dire to desire. “No fraternization, eh?”
Though, apparently, a lot of hanky-panky was overlooked, so long as the faeries didn’t do relationships in the MR. Which explained why Dart hadn’t been written up on his numerous—make that hundreds—of infractions.
Hundreds? It was an uneducated guess. For all she knew, it could be—no, not thousands. Never.
“Don’t think about it, Sidney. He’s in your hands now.”
And with imminent retrieval looming over her shoulders, why—Sidney snapped upright. Fists formed. She didn’t give a fruiting toadstool about the rules. Fraternization? Bring it!
But she couldn’t jump into the pool without a solid plan. So far, her adventures with the faery sex god of Reverie had proven entertaining but far from satisfying.
What was so special about Dart that she was willing to work with his problem? She wasn’t so desperate she couldn’t consider the next guy who fluttered by. Okay, so they didn’t flutter by her. Ever.
“He’s different. He . . . likes me for who I am, polka dots and all. So what about who he is? Why the uncontrollable dusting? Is it because he gets excited too quickly? How to slow the dude down? Or maybe I need to speed up, beat him to the punch? Hmm . . .”
That did make sense. There hadn’t been a chapter about it in the sex manual, but she was smart; she could figure this out.
She deserved a wild affair with a sexy sandman. And she now had a deadline. Twenty-four mortal hours before all chance to have sex with the sexiest night-duster she had ever known was ripped from her needy grasp.
It was time to go for it.
How to win the heart of a woman who had seen it all, and had little patience for a faery with a dusting affliction?
Keeping his promise to Sidney, to avoid the houses of any mother with a child who had a loose tooth, Dart muddled on the park bench. He wore glamour, and a mortal man walking by on the sidewalk nodded in ac knowledgment. Not far from where Dart sat, flower faeries tended their blossoms. Little glowing faery lights blinked suggestively violet.
They wanted him.
He wanted them.
No, he didn’t.
Really?
“Yes, really.”
Closing his eyes and leaning back against the bench, Dart put a vision of Sidney into his thoughts. Saucy, eccentric, and so attractive. He couldn’t pinpoint what it was about her, but he knew whenever she was around, he felt great. Better than with the twitter-flies.
She appealed to parts of him that he’d been unaware he possessed until now. Parts that made him want to protect her from harm, sadness, or disappointment. And another part of him simply wanted to see her look at him with respect.
“Because she’s a real woman.”
No silliness, no giggling attempts to bed him for the mere sake of bedding him. Sidney did have a kooky side, and he liked her laughter. And how many women were so easily impressed by floss?
Close by, the air vibrated. Dart opened one eye. As he’d thought, a flower faery buzzed near his head.
He reached up and flicked the faery away with a snap of his forefinger. As she bounced and bobbled through the air, her protests stirred up an entire brigade of twitter-flies. But they weren’t angry, no. One of their ranks had been refused? The sandman was free game.
A swarm of violet-winged faeries aimed for him, and began to tangle in his hair and sit upon his shoulder. Their seductive whispers initially enticed, but then memory of Sidney’s bluebell laughter resounded in his brain.
“Enough!”
He dusted the entire swarm.
Faery lights hung in the air, momentarily suspended, then dropped. Tiny sleeping bodies littered the ground at his feet.
“That’s right.” Dart carefully stepped over the fallout. “This sandman is no longer interested.”
Time to bring out the big guns.
Sidney slammed the clothing on hangers down the metal bar. The depths of her closet were revealed. It was dark. It gave off a dull sequin glint. She hadn’t been back there in years, perhaps decades.
“I remember that one dress. . . .”
Squeezing in through the crush of clothing and the wall, Sidney inserted herself into the musty darkness. Polka dots dusted her knees and creaky vinyl knee-high boots crunched beneath her bare feet.
Working completely by feel, she scavenged the dismal depths of her pitiful life. The last time she’d worn that pillbox hat—she didn’t even want to know.
The vinyl rain slicker with the Day-Glo smiley faces? “What in a hobbit’s footbrush had I been thinking?”
Sequins brushed her cheek. The balloon-like sleeves of a velvet number muffled her breathing and she had to shove forcefully to push a spot clear to stand in.
And then she felt it. The soft glide of jersey. It was thin and red. She’d glamourized it to fit her years back after overdosing on episodes of Sex and the City.
“Time to let this faery out to play.”
Chapter
12
A huge bouquet of white daisies with yellow centers greeted her. Sidney looked
over the officious bunch of weeds, offered in clutched fingers. Dirt-crusted roots grew from the bottom of the bouquet. She smirked.
“I’ll have you know Mrs. Larson next door doesn’t take kindly to thieves.”
Dart dropped his hand, swinging the flowers at his side. He tried a weak smile. “What about you? I thought these might have less pollen than the lilies.”
“Achoo!” She turned and walked through the living room.
Dart tossed the flowers over his shoulder. They landed on the stoop next to the other heaps of wilted, rejected offerings.
“Give it up on the flowers, will you?” Sidney rubbed her itchy nose.
“All right, the flowers are history. Good thing I brought this for you, too.”
Something wondrous sat upon the sandman’s hand. Sidney didn’t have to look close; she knew exactly what it was.
A Turbo 6000 SuperSwift Toothbrush/Tongue Cleaner/Palette Pleaser®.
Sidney grasped the holy grail.
The handle was carved from Brazilian rain forest trees that had fallen naturally, not been cut by deforestation crews. The bristles were not plastic but rather a natural substance that gave plaque a kick in the patootie. And it had an engine—yes, an engine—that vibrated the entire head across the surface of the tooth 6,000 revolutions per second. Yeah, that was per second, baby.
“I think I’m . . . in . . .” Love?
No, too soon for that confession. But the sandman had just handed her a key to her heart. He understood her.
Sidney dove in for a kiss. Which was forceful. It toppled Dart from his feet. They landed on the couch, their lips still locked.
No man treated her so special and then slipped away like a shadow at high noon. The body crushed against hers, so solid and fierce, fit to her like butter to bread. The cinnamon taste of his mouth worked like an aphrodisiac. And the toothbrush wielded in her hand became her sword of triumph.
The sandman wasn’t getting out of her house unmolested this afternoon. That’s just the way it had to be.
“You’re wearing something new,” he managed between kisses and gropes. “Red?”
“You like it?” Sidney gripped the front of his shirt and tore it open. Buttons popped. One plastic disk pinged Dart’s nose, landing on his forehead. She snapped the rogue button away. “I thought I’d try something closer to current fashion, give or take a mortal decade. A little less outrageous, a lot more—”
“Sexy and delicious. You are a wanton, Sidney.”
“Got a problem with that?”
The sandman squinted as he gave it a brief think. “Not at all.”
Shrugging his fingers back through his tousled hair, he looked her over. Sidney sensed a bit of shock, maybe . . . reluctance?
“Oh, no, it’s going to happen this time.” She moved closer, but he stopped her renewed attack with an abrupt palm.
“It is, Sidney. But give me time to catch my breath. And look at you. Let me look at you. Woman, you are more beautiful than a meadow glittering with glow bugs on a dreamy summer night.”
The way he breathed the words tickled fiery tingles along Sidney’s spine and over her scalp. And the way his eyes slowly traveled her body, starting there, at her breasts, caressed by the red jersey, and moving along her waist and lower, heated her all over. But she didn’t need stoking—she was already there.
Sidney leaned back against the couch arm, propping her elbows. She stretched out her legs, bending one, and when she did so, the jersey slid up to her thigh. There, look at me, the pose said.
It made her feel wondrous to have the sandman ogle her. But it wasn’t a blatant, hey, baby, kind of stare. No, this one touched her. There. And there, on her hard, tight nipples. And oh, there, where she squeezed her legs tight to trap the sensation of wanting to fly.
There would be no flying today. Grounded and naked was how Sidney intended this afternoon to proceed.
“It’s not too much?” she asked, tugging at the slim line of the skirt.
“It’s all I need.” Dart leaned over her and kissed the top of her breast. “If I weren’t wearing a glamour, my wings would give me away. Why are we wearing glamour? We’re alone, Sidney. There are no mortals to see us.”
“Point taken.” An uncomfortable cringe attacked her sudden slip into wanton sex goddess. “Er, you first.”
“Gladly.”
With a magnificent toss of his head and a shimmy of his shoulders, Dart shook off his glamour. Wings unfurled and curled slightly forward. Moonglow radiated from his skin. And his eyes beguiled with golden enchantments.
Sidney sighed.
“Now you,” he encouraged. “There’s no reason to be shy. You can be yourself with me, Sidney. Don’t you trust me?”
“Of course.” So why was she suddenly skittish? She’d started this foreplay, and she wanted to ride it to the glorious finale. “I just . . . It’s been so long. I’ve become used to wearing glamour. To being . . . mortal.”
“You’ve become so attached to the MR, you’re not sure where you belong anymore.”
He had that one almost right. “I belong here, serving as the town’s tooth faery. But as for what I do when I’m not working the night job . . .”
Dart took her hand and placed it over his heart. “You belong here, Sidney. You are a faery, not a mortal. Be one. For me?”
The stud was right on the toadstool.
Sidney nodded. “I’ve spent so much time in the MR. I’m this close to being completely mortal. I don’t want to become Sidney the Faery, and end up sitting on a park bench gnawing Krispy Kremes. I want to be me. Sidney Tooth.”
“Do you trust me, Sidney?”
“Of course I do.”
“Then show me,” he said.
Right. She was Sidney Tooth. Reverie registered tooth faery number 178. She was smart. Strong. Caring. Not so bad on the eyes, either. She knew exactly what she wanted in life. A good secure job, a home to raise a family, and some twisty sheets.
So why not be herself?
Sidney pushed away from Dart and stood. Hands to hips, she drew in a breath—and held it.
Could she do this? Taking this step meant abandoning her uptight, rigid alliance to the rules, and very possibly her position here in the MR.
Deep in Dart’s eyes, the twinkle of trust and admiration flashed at her.
One self, coming right up!
Sidney shook back her head and released the glamour. Her frizzy mortal hair grew lush, wavy, and moss-colored as it spilled to her elbows. As her wings spread and unfurled, the red jersey slid from her shoulders to hug the tops of her arms and nestle upon her breasts.
Dust glittered about her.
The release of glamour felt as if she’d shucked off chains. The air felt lighter. Her breaths came more quickly, seasoned with joy. Sidney let out a sigh and went with the freeing feeling.
When she opened her eyes, Dart’s wings shimmered and waved gently—they were violet.
“I’ve got to have you now.” He wrapped his arms about her waist. “Sidney, I adore you. Not just because you’re beautiful, but also because you’re unique. You’re tough. You’re feisty. You’re hot. You are like no other faery in this realm.”
“Mighty kind of you to say, Sandman. I want you, too, no matter the consequences. It’s time this faery started living. But we’re going my speed to night.” She stood on tiptoes to inspect his gaze. His eyes glittered with want. An aura of moonbeams spat from him like tiny sun storms. “And . . . I’m going first.”
“Huh?”
“That’s right.” She sashayed past him, destination: the bedroom. “Me first, then you.”
“I don’t understand?” He followed her like a good little sandman.
“You will, Studman, you will.”
It was all in the perspective. The sandman obviously functioned via visual images and arousal, as did all males of any species. So Sidney turned off the lights and pulled the shades. They could still see in the darkness, but the shadows softened the c
urves and emphasized the sultry mood. It slowed the pace, which was what she initially wanted.
She made sure to undress Dart before she completely stripped. His wings curled forward and stroked her cheeks, a warm summer breeze to her cool autumn flesh. The sensation shivered through her body and rocketed out her toes.
She touched him all over, running her fingertips lightly, teasingly, over the abs that felt like polished stone, beneath his pecs, and down the inside of his strong arms. And that wings-to-private-parts ratio of comparison? So right on the mark.
Huge.
Breathing rapidly, the sandman raced toward incoherency. “Sidney, I can’t . . .”
. . . hold off much longer. Close to dusting, Sidney sensed, so she switched to rocket speed.
She shoved Dart hard. He landed on the bed. The rough move gave him pause, knocking him out of ultra-lust mode and into startled wonder.
Just what she needed. A pause to his overwhelming and hummingbird-fast libido.
Lifting her skirt to her thighs, Sidney crawled onto Dart. He didn’t protest her forwardness and, in fact, moaned appreciatively as she fit herself onto his huge, hard length and went for the ride.
The trip was short, but she wasn’t complaining. Climax rocketed her toward a slippery edge she had no desire to grasp. Soaring over that edge, she dug her fingers into Dart’s sun-burnished hair, and called out as orgasm streaked through her body.
She’d done it.
And as her wave began to drift away, Dart mounted the top of his. The edge tempted him closer, and he surfed it. He called out, “Tooth faeries rock!” and climaxed.
Dust glittered about their embrace.
Sidney dropped into a snore.
“I get it now,” Dart said. Sidney yawned after being shaken awake. “You first, then me. It worked!”
“And it was good,” she agreed sleepily.
“Really? Even though you had to hurry?”
“Better than elderberry wine and chocolate-dipped strawberries. I figure with a little practice we could get slower and slower. I may even be able to stay up past the morning news.”
Faeries Gone Wild Page 20
