Faeries Gone Wild

by MaryJanice Davidson

  Alec rose to remove his jacket and hang it on the chair. “Let’s dance.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “My leg is fine.”

  “I know. . . .”

  “So what’s the problem?”

  “I’m just growing so attracted to you, Alec.”

  “No harm in that. Is there?”

  Guess it depended upon how good his sniffer was.

  As Tia stood, Alec was swift to peel off her sweater. Grasping her bare arms, he pushed her forward. “That cardy’s been in my way all night.”

  The band was playing a slow, languid number with a squealing sax. Alec held her close and guided her in slow circles, deftly shifting between several other couples. Melding into his strength, she matched his steps and his heartbeat, let the music wind through her.

  It was the most erotic moment of her life.

  Certainly she’d be stinking to high heaven any minute.

  Just how would this one get away? she wondered. He claimed to feel fine and had no relatives to fall back on. Perhaps in his case, it would be a house afire.

  Wired with tension, she put herself on high alert. Moments turned into longer moments. Still, he said nothing. Even as she picked up her own musty scent, he said nothing. Could he be suffering from acute nasal blockage?

  There was no clean break between a smatter of songs, so Alec never stopped steering her around. Tia snuggled closer, fully aware of the turgid flesh now pressing urgently against her belly.

  It was time for the ultimate test. To hum that tune. Close to Alec’s ear. Ever so softly, of course, so as not to cause an angry stampede in the cramped space.

  To Tia’s utter amazement, no one gave her so-called puling a second glance. As for Alec, he merely kissed her temple and called her his songbird!

  Suffused with relief and plea sure, she swiped away a trace of tears.

  Perhaps there was a place for her in this world after all.

  Chapter

  3

  Alec and Tia barely made it inside her new apartment before they were locking lips and tugging at each other’s clothing. They tussled on to the bedroom, Alec barechested, Tia bare everything.

  Tia was bursting with excitement. It was really going to happen this time.

  In a slow, fluid motion, she dropped to her knees to unbuckle his belt, urge down his zipper. She pulled away his pants and placed a hand over his bulging boxers. With fascination, she began to massage the outline of his shaft.

  “Slow down, honey,” he rasped. “Like to have my shoes off first.”

  Her huge eyes lifted to his. “Am I doing it wrong?”

  With a wizened scowl, Alec yanked her to her feet. “Don’t say it. This isn’t your first time.”

  “Will that pose a problem?”

  “Not exactly. It’s more a matter of choice—for you.”

  “Then there is no problem.” Clutching his face, she pressed her mouth against his.

  Alec broke free. Eventually. “This is a big deal. You gotta be sure.”

  “I’m far from innocent, Alec. Have, for instance, skinny-dipped with males back home for years and years.”

  “What group was this? The deaf and mute society for the blind?”

  More like the strapping male faery society by the bay. Certainly a better subject for a rainy day, with little emphasis on the “strapping” part due to Alec’s new possessive gleam.

  “I just don’t understand how you made it this long,” he persisted as she oozed into him like an itchy kitten. “Especially rubbing up against a man like that!”

  “Must say, there’s a lot more talk than I expected.”

  “You think?” Taking the challenge, he ground his mouth against hers, kicking off the last of his clothes.

  Years of pent-up frustration had Tia kissing Alec back with gusto. Toe-to-toe, mouth-to-mouth, she reveled in every untested masculine edge. The pebbly surface of his tongue inside her mouth, the scratchy chest hairs scoring her breasts, the roughened fingertips skimming her curves. All moving against the grain, causing a heady friction.

  Counter this with the smooth sensation of his penis undulating against her tender belly as if pressing for entry.

  Weak at the knees, Tia was certain she’d soon melt away.

  Deciding to save herself, Tia wound her arms around his neck and gracefully leapt up to ride his waist.

  Locked between her thighs, Alec sucked a breath. Then began to knead the curved flesh of her bottom. Tia shuddered as his fingers pressed deep into the firm butt muscle with a massaging motion, grinding his cock into her sensitive pubis. Then with a flying leap worthy of a winged lord, Alec propelled them onto the bed.

  Tia landed flat on her back with a broad smile, which faded as Alec retreated from the mattress. She swiftly raised herself up on elbows, eyes slitted. “Oh, no, you don’t.”

  Alec whirled in the middle of the room. “What?”

  “No headaches to night.”

  He chuckled and reached for his pants. “I’m just digging a condom out of my wallet.”

  “Oh.” She sank back on the pillows with a sigh.

  Alec climbed back on the bed fully sheathed. Then after a moment’s hesitation, he lowered over her. She swiftly wound her legs around his middle and clamped hard with earnest eyes.

  “Don’t hold back on me.”

  Ever so gently he dipped his hips and teased her opening with his cock. “Okay?”

  She slanted him a smile. “Carry on.”

  He pushed inside her then, plainly struggling to take his time. She gasped in delight as his erection grew inside her, invading her tight untried tunnel.

  Testing her muscles, she gave him a small, tentative squeeze, spurring him to move inside her. Deeper, then out again. Once, twice, in and out. With intense concentration he picked up a gliding rhythm that Tia sought to match, lifting her hips against his with a skin smack. The core of her being twisted and tightened until she could take no more.

  She gave in to a sweet dizzy release, distantly aware of Alec jerking inside her. Sinking on top of her, he was careful not to crush her. His heart beat fiercely against hers for some moments before he rolled away.

  They lay silently in the darkness, working to breathe again. “You waited for me, didn’t you, Alec?”

  He rolled up to stroke her moist forehead. “To make it special. After all, everyone remembers their first time.”

  She cuddled closer. “I imagine they do.”

  Alec was busy cooking in Tia’s galley kitchen the next morning when she shuffled in with mussed hair and heavy bedroom eyes.

  “You’re dressed.”

  “And you not so much.” Setting down his spatula, he slid his hands underneath the shawl collar of her robe and kissed her deeply. She was beautifully naked beneath the terry wrapping, which, he happened to note, still held a price tag from Saks.

  She welcomed the kiss but smacked his shoulder afterward. “I thought I’d wake up in your arms.”

  “Tia, it’s mid-morning.”

  “You slept this late just yesterday. I woke you, remember?”

  “A lot has changed since yesterday. I’m feeling more like myself. And the real me gets up early to make the day matter.”

  “The clothes are different,” she noted. “You even went home!”

  Her abandonment issues were overwhelming—far worse than his. All because of her father’s absence? Sensing this might not be a good time to dig deeper, he playfully tapped her nose. “I went out to buy breakfast fixings. You can’t expect to live on air.”

  Leaning into him, she traced her tongue along his mouth. “That is not what I hoped to live on today.”

  “Hmm, your first time must have gone well.”

  “Don’t make me squirm over telling you.”

  “I know you didn’t have to.” Riffling his fingers through her luxuriant platinum hair, he kissed her cheekbone. “But I hope we’ll always tell each other things.”

  “Hmm, yes.”


  His hand slid deeper to cup her full, warm breast.

  “Something’s burning, Alec.”

  “Oh, yeah. . . .” Suddenly he realized she was talking about his omelets! With a yelp he whirled to take the pan off the burner and shut off the heat.

  “I can save them,” she assured, busily taking over. Gripping the spatula, she gave the browned half-moon shapes a flip and slid them onto the two ceramic plates set on the counter.

  He took a plate, his free hand closing on the one holding the spatula. “You, Tia Mayberry, can save anything.”

  Alec knew part of reclaiming his old active life was returning to the gym three times a week. Technically, his place of fitness was a health club on 86th Street with a panoramic view of Central Park West. A high-roller hangout where the elite struck deals over cutting-edge energy drinks. Where he was merely a long-term guest. Courtesy of the respected mentor he called Trey.

  Better known at large as John Winter III.

  Alec was lying on a weight bench, hoisting a barbell, when he spied the mogul himself standing behind a spotter.

  “Alec! They called the house to say you were here.”

  John wanted to see him that badly. It was enough to give his conscience a good hard prick. He set the barbell back on its rack, sat up on the bench, and shook John’s hand. “Sorry I haven’t been in touch.”

  “No matter, we’re together now.” John beamed and patted his back. “We could take in a spinning class if you like.”

  Alec didn’t like. But like the rest of Manhattan, he had trouble resisting the persuasive John Winter.

  Half the stationary bikes were occupied at that hour of the afternoon. A girl named Becka sat on the top bike at the head of the class. Armed with peppy music and drill sergeant instructions, she always rode them mercilessly.

  Alec spared a sidelong glance at John, pedaling madly on a bike beside him dressed in tank and shorts similar to his own. Few people saw the dignified industrialist in such skimpy clothes, his corded suntanned skin awash in sweat.

  Even fewer were on terms intimate enough to address him as Trey. That honor was restricted to friends and family members. Alec was openly delighted to be accepted in not one but both camps.

  Alec knew John would never speak during the workout. The music was too loud, the exertion too strenuous. It would also be an insult to Becka as she coaxed the cyclists on their feverish ride.

  Though happily married for close to thirty years, John always charmed the ladies. Always.

  A brief shower and a change to street clothes had him and Alec settled in the health club dining room.

  “I feel I should be treating you to something better to celebrate your recovery, Alec,” John said.

  Alec glanced fondly across the table at the silver-haired gent, touching his salon-clipped moustache as he perused the menu through reading glasses. “It’s the company that counts.”

  John smiled. “Right. Can’t beat this place for a confidential chat.”

  Alec tensed slightly, wondering what he had in mind.

  “Helen’s been asking after you. A lot.”

  “Sorry. I’ve been hiding from everyone.”

  John regarded Alec wryly over his lenses. “Helen is my only concern, as she warms my bed.”

  “You can assure her I’m better.”

  “I’d rather you show her.”

  “Of course.”

  Soon they turned their attention to their waiter. Settling their order, Trey peeled off his glasses. Grooves of distress marred his face. “It still tears us up that you were hurt on my property. You of all people, Alec. Why, you weren’t even supposed to be on duty.”

  “All part of the firefighter game. The crew was short, so I got the call.” Alec gulped from his water glass, still finding this subject difficult to tackle. Thank God he hadn’t tried to explain it all to Tia yet. She admired his strength, and how he longed to keep it that way.

  Tia. He’d glanced down into Central Park frequently as they hauled ass on those bikes. She was down there someplace waiting for him.

  Take as long as you like, she’d said. There was nothing she enjoyed more than romping through the trees.

  She’d actually said romp. A sample of genuine playfulness that he was finding so infectious. He hadn’t bought a girl a Frisbee since jnuior high. But he’d done it today. Tia had been thrilled with the yellow plastic disk. They would toss it around the park the moment he got back.

  Separated by thirty stories, he couldn’t totally block out those skinny-dipping guys she’d ogled on nature romps back home. Why none of them had ever seduced her he couldn’t fathom. Why she struggled so between self-confidence and terror he couldn’t fathom, either.

  She was stunning enough to give a man a headache. Like looking into the sun too long.

  Surely no one at the park would pose him any real competition.

  But should he have bought her the Frisbee before they parted? Or waited until after? Tia, warm and shiny as the sun, frolicking on her own with a Frisbee.

  Possessively, he wondered who was tossing it now.

  “Alec!”

  “Sorry.” Alec struggled to reconnect. “We both have to get over what happened, accept that too many were at the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “Naturally, I have less sympathy for the hooligans and tramps who caused the trouble.”

  “College kids and homeless people.”

  “Trespassing on my property. In the dead of night. Playing with fire.”

  “Well, the homeless were obviously trying to escape the cold snap. As for the students, they were green freshmen from NYU involved in some sort of hazing stunt. Several of them dropped by my room at the hospital to express remorse—you saw them.”

  “You shouldn’t let them off the hook so easily,” John muttered.

  “Ask anyone at the station and you’ll find we all carry the same mission: to save lives without passing judgment.”

  “I felt both sides were more than anxious to blame the other. That didn’t seem very noble.”

  “There was a lot of confusion at the site, of course. Everyone fearful of being held responsible.”

  John abruptly leaned into the table, his tone urgent. “So when will responsibility be determined?”

  “You probably know more at this point than I do.”

  He settled back with a low snort. “They aren’t sharing a thing with me. No matter how many strings I’ve tried to pull.”

  “Sorry, Trey. But it is common procedure in a case like this.”

  “Stonewalling my inquiries, as if I’m a suspect.”

  “I don’t believe it. You were, after all, with me much of the night!”

  “It’s your chief, Kevin Mitchell, at fault, I figure. He’d held a grudge since I bought his Tribeca apartment building and flipped it to condos.”

  “His family lived there for three generations at a manageable price,” Alec reasoned. “Now he’s holed up someplace in Queens, miles from the station.”

  “It was strictly business. It’s what I do.”

  “As these investigations are department business. They’re always fair.”

  “Plainly it was a stupid accident! I can’t figure what’s taking so long.”

  “I suppose the nonprofit you were donating the building to is the most impatient.”

  John’s expression softened. “The women’s shelter, Arms of Tomorrow. Helen’s become their champion, you know, tirelessly rounding up supplies, medical and spiritual counsel. Under the circumstances, I felt it only right to arrange another site for them in Chelsea. It’s not as large or con ve nient as the Fifty-sixth Street building, but at least it’s not barbecued.”

  “You moved on that fast.”

  “That part was easy compared to appeasing the authorities. It’s so awkward with my annual banquet for outstanding heroism slated for Saturday. Here I am, set to distribute plaques of bravery to, among others, your crew—for my very own fire. With the investigation at a frust
rating standstill.”

  “You don’t know it’s at a standstill,” Alec insisted. “I’m sure—”

  “You keep using the word ‘sure.’ Which is a damn sight different from being positive. You’re usually so on top of things at the station.”

  “Truth is, I haven’t been to the station lately.”

  “I know you’re not back on the roster yet.”

  “Trey, I haven’t been back there at all.”

  “Why the hell not!”

  Alec bowed his head. “I’ve been struggling with doubts about the job.”

  “I don’t believe it. You’ve wanted to fight fires since you were a kid! Are damned good at it!”

  “A firefighter with doubts is no damn good,” Alec uttered.

  “You haven’t outright quit, have you?”

  “No. I’ve been stalling around instead, using that cane as a prop for my lingering emotional disability.”

  “Can’t believe you didn’t confide in me sooner.”

  “Only recently admitted it to myself. Very recently.”

  “That’s something anyway.” Despite this concession, John’s mouth settled into a disgruntled line. “Seems I finally understand why you won’t commit to the awards banquet.”

  “I’m a work in progress, Trey. Just like the investigation.”

  “Oh, I don’t mean to sound so contentious.”

  “You have a right to defend your reputation. It’s deserved.”

  “Just like you have a right to expect my support. Nothing has changed since that first day Kenny brought you home from college on holiday break. I instantly spotted in you a kindred spirit, with drive, ambition, resilience. You were the second son I always wanted and just what Kenny needed, somebody to lure him into sports, show him how to throw a punch—how to date indiscriminately, for Pete’s sake! Not that he’s exactly followed through on any of it.”

  “Those skills are most useful at age twenty anyway.”

  “It’s been tough to see him crawl back into his shell, though, married to a bookworm, teaching kiddie arithmetic in the outback.”