Beyond The Veil: A Paranormal & Magical Romance Boxed Set

by Multiple Authors

  Oh, boy. She slid it onto the dresser. She’d forgotten just that quickly that she’d even been holding it. Apparently, her memory had joined her verbal filter on Team Worthless as Shit.

  He moved to the armchair in the corner and draped his leather jacket over the back. “Take off your clothes.”

  Was he asking her or telling her? She narrowed his eyes at his turned back and willed herself not to stomp her foot.

  He turned and crossed his arms over his chest. “Is there a problem?”

  “You’re mistaken if you think I’ll jump simply because you told me to.”

  “No, you’ll jump because you want to. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, including anything I tell you to do. But you want to do what I say, don’t you?”

  “Nope.”

  “Are you sure?” He walked slowly to the foot of the bed and sat in the middle, legs spread wide and hands clenched over the edge.

  “I’m pretty sure. Yeah.”

  “Interesting. Less than an hour ago, you’d agreed it’d be quite nice to feel my palm against your ass and it seems you’ve developed cold feet.”

  Being alone in a room with him did tend to have that effect on her. She didn’t know why, but had to admit to herself that it was getting tiring. What would be the harm in making some things easy?

  She canted her head toward the door, listening intently for sounds from the living room. Nothing. Not even a mumble, and she knew for sure the crew had been chattering when Heath had shepherded her away. Well-insulated. She couldn’t hear them, and they probably wouldn’t be able to hear anything in the bedroom. One less excuse.

  She looked back at Heath, who was rolling his shirtsleeves up his forearms, and put her fingers to the top button of her shirt.

  “Perhaps take off your shoes first.”

  Oh. That was an easy thing. She heeled them off.

  “Need to get you some good boots. Something better for riding. For fighting.”

  “Folks at the beach don’t wear boots a hell of a lot.” She hadn’t owned a pair in six years other than her rain boots, which hardly counted. She couldn’t exactly wear those while barreling down the highway on Heath’s bike. She guffawed at the thought. Her orange and pink polka dots would probably look out of place with all that black and chrome.

  “Something amuses you, love?”

  “My imagination ran away with me for a moment.” She flicked off her socks next, and her cheeks suffused. No small acts left to hide behind. Back to the blouse again.

  Heath leaned back on his forearms, watching without comment as she unfastened the tiny pearl buttons. Her fingers seemed to more lose dexterity with each little pip, and by the time she got to the bottom of the shirt, her hands were shaking. Fear and anticipation combined together were a potent mix. She was both curious and scared. Scared that it would hurt, scared that she’d like that it hurt, and scared that she’d enjoy it and that there was something wrong with her for enjoying it.

  She shrugged off the shirt and fondled the button of her new jeans. She hadn’t felt repulsed at all by Thom joining them in the bed for that short time, and she kept trying to feel that—to force herself to feel some guilt or regret over the dalliance, but she couldn’t. She’d liked it. Heath was right that Thom made her feel safe, and Thom was a gorgeous creature to look at. His blunt words and odd reverence of her stirred her libido in formerly unimaginable ways. And, yes, she wanted to care for him. See to his needs, should he ask her, though she suspected he rarely would.

  It wasn’t quite the same with Heath. She couldn’t put into words what the man did to her. Her attraction to him wasn’t quite as…obligatory as what she felt with Thom. It felt very voluntary, but the strength of it was like nothing she’d ever felt for a man. Perhaps it was that thing she’d never had with a man before—actual compatibility. And she’d been fighting it all the way.

  “Looks like your imagination is still running away,” Heath said. “Either that, or you’re pondering the great mysteries of the universe.”

  “Nothing that serious.” She unfastened her jeans and let down the fly.

  His gaze was intent and heated as she wriggled the snug jeans down her legs.

  “Sídhe women tend to be straight up and down.” He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her forward before she could reach for her bra clasp. “There are a few groups here and there who aren’t, but they don’t marry into my lot much.” His hands skimmed past her hips, down to the backs of her legs. “Breasts and thighs…”

  She bit down her lip on the sarcastic remark about her body she wanted to make, and just let him touch. She didn’t have to fight everything.

  He gripped the meat of her rear and squeezed. “Like that, too. Yes, I believe I’m quite lucky, indeed. The envy of many.”

  “You assume that people will either want to kill me or fuck me.”

  “That’s being a fairy in a nutshell, to be honest. Most don’t have hobbies beyond that.” He skimmed up her spine and slid a finger beneath her bra clasp. He held it there for a moment, and then took his hand away. “Nah, leave it on. I wouldn’t want to get distracted. Take off your panties, though.”

  She complied, albeit slowly. He was gripping her waist, and she didn’t have much room to move. “If you want me this close, you could have just taken them off yourself.”

  “I could have, aye.”

  She nudged the panties behind her with her big toe, and shifted nervously. His gaze was focused on her face, his lips turned up in that damnable smirk, and his hands kneaded her hips.

  She swallowed. “Um. Are you going to undress?”

  “I don’t really need to for what we’re doing, do I?”

  “But I thought—”

  “Don’t think. Too often, thinking gets in the way of living in the moment. Let instinct take over. Let the fairy part of you win out for once.”

  “But I already have. Back in that parking lot, I—”

  “It works as well for fucking as it does for fighting. Now, why don’t you tell me how you’ll signal to me that you’d like the game to end?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Tell me how you’ll let me know you’re not interested in continuing our play. This is a cooperative endeavor. You may be submissive to me for the duration, but that doesn’t mean I wish to subjugate you to distress far outside your comfort zone. I wish to know you and what you like and also what your limits are. I can’t know those unless you tell me and we explore them.”

  “This is sounding a lot more complicated than I expected.”

  “If we had been together for a while, I might take certain liberties—I might guess what would give you pleasure—but you keep so much of your passion tamped down, it’s hard to know what actually turns you on. I’d like to know.”

  So would she.

  He eased farther back onto the bed and tapped the space beside him. She climbed up onto her knees, and he slowly positioned her over her thighs.

  He massaged the base of her spine and pressed his other hand to the bottom of her uptilted ass. She’d risen up for him reflexively, craving his touch, his dominance.

  “If you don’t like it, tell me what you’re feeling, and I’ll either make adjustments or stop. Understand?”

  “Yes.”

  “Don’t be afraid to speak up. You never are, so don’t change the trend by clamming up now.”

  “I won’t.”

  “All right, then. Let’s get down to it.”

  He tightened his left arm around her torso, pulling her a bit more snug against her body, and dropped his hand from her ass. Her body tensed as she waited for the strike, but it didn’t come.

  He kept her waiting. Wanting.

  “Heath.”

  “On my time, love, not yours. If you’re going to cede control to me for a time, do so completely and trust that I’ll give you what you need.”

  She wasn’t sure if it was the ceding part or the trusting part she had more of a
problem with. She couldn’t help her personality, and her adult life had trained her to trust no one. But, this was Heath. He might have put her in harm’s way just by claiming her as his, but he hadn’t done anything to purposefully cause her distress beyond her burning cheeks and a throbbing, unsatisfied pussy.

  The moment she relaxed, his hand came down onto her cheek in a sharp tap that had her backside bouncing. Then another on the other side. He was rubbing her before the pain could register—before she could check in with herself about the sensation.

  “Good girl. Relax for me.”

  Oh. She’d clenched again. She settled over his lap and turned to face the headboard. Closing her eyes, she braced for the next two. Except there were four, all on the left side of her ass and down to the top of her thigh. He immediately plunged his fingers into her, and she gasped at the sudden, but welcome, invasion.

  He stroked in and out, slicking her moisture onto her outer lips, and leaned a bit to coo, “Don’t try to predict it. Kills the suspense and may even make it worse than it actually is.” He tugged her clit between his knuckles. The dull jut of his cock beneath his jeans stabbed against her ribs, hard and ready. Apparently, her compliance aroused him.

  She wanted more. She wriggled against his lap, crushing her swollen nipples within her bra against the bed, and he smacked the other side of her ass. Hard. She stopped squirming.

  “My concern is with your bottom, not your breasts.”

  “I don’t see why I can’t—”

  His thick fingers filled her, took her breath away. Two, maybe three. “These go away, love, if you can’t behave.”

  She groaned and tried to still her body even as her muscles clenched around his fingers and her thighs grew wet from her wanting.

  “I must admit that Thom is better at this.” Heath glided his fingertips in and out of her channel, stretching her, stimulating her…provoking her. But, she didn’t move. She clamped down on her bottom lip and crushed the comforter in her fists.

  “People take him seriously, I guess. They comply very nicely for him. Perhaps it’s because he’s a big man, even by Sídhe standards. I always have to work harder to get people to listen.”

  She let loose her lip to say, “I take you seriously, Heath. And I really don’t want to think about how much practice you may have had at this.”

  He chuckled.

  In spite of herself, she wriggled her backside against his hand. “Have you stopped to consider that your partners make you work harder because they want a certain kind of attention?”

  He pulled his fingers from her and massaged her stinging cheeks. “And what kind of attention might that be?”

  “I don’t know. Extra, maybe. The more resistance they give you, the longer the…the experience lasts.”

  “Hmm. And are you trying to make it last?”

  No. He was killing her—teasing her to insanity—and she didn’t know how much more of it she could take. She wanted to come, but she liked having an excuse to be snuggled so close to him. He wouldn’t think she was needy or clingy, just willing to be spanked.

  She swallowed. “I’ll take whatever you dish out, Heath.”

  He chuckled again, and took her aback with the rapid, countless swats that had her gasping when she wasn’t moaning wantonly.

  His ending tap to her cunt nearly launched her into out space, but his grip was too sure, his fingers inside her too addictive. She couldn’t move—wouldn’t dare move.

  His unceasing probing intensified, filling her, shaking her self control and sending her common sense away ever more with each breath she took. The room around her was a blur of dim colors, the firm lap beneath her a ledge she could topple off if she weren’t careful. She danced on the edge of pleasure, afraid to let it overtake her, because when she gave in, she might lose herself to the orgasm. To Heath.

  “I’ll take care of you. You know that?” His voice seemed so far away.

  Her body stretched and coiled atop him, breaths coming out in short pants as his fingers delved in and out of her.

  “Nothing else matters, Simone. You will always be my choice. Do you understand me?”

  “No,” she whispered, not really understanding the question, and not really wanting to devote the brainpower to trying.

  His touch was so good she couldn’t think of anything but that—of letting the little death take her. And then she had no choice, because it did. It grabbed her by the chest and squeezed all the air from her lungs. Clenched her belly. Sent more blood to her womb, her sex. Made her toes curl and calves cramp. Made her vision go spotty and throat tight. She couldn’t even say his name.

  “No matter what happens, love,” he whispered. He glided gentle fingertips down her still-quivering slit. “I will always choose us.”

  “Us.”

  “You and me. Nothing else is as important.”

  And he sounded like he meant it, probably because he did. He never said anything he didn’t believe to be truth.

  He let her slide off his lap.

  Cringing at the press to her sore bottom, she knelt on the floor at his feet, holding her arms over her belly and staring up at him. No smirk. No smug grin. “You’re in it for keeps.”

  “Aye. I told you I was.”

  “But you didn’t even know me.”

  “Didn’t matter. I decided to make the most of it from the moment I saw you. I believe in starting things on the right foot, even if all the pieces haven’t come together yet.”

  And she’d probably always remember that. There was nothing wrong with wanting him. There was no one who would judge her if she had an about-face in how she treated him. No one would say, “I told you so,” and tease her for not knowing what was good for her. The only opinions that mattered were hers and Heath’s.

  And she was committed to trying to go with his easy flow, but half Sídhe or not, that was against her nature. All she could do was keep reminding herself that it didn’t have to be hard. Maybe she’d come to believe it in the future.

  “Why don’t you climb into bed and let me take care of you?”

  She didn’t even bother asking what that meant. She just walked around to the right side, pulled back the covers, and settled atop the fitted sheet.

  Heath joined her at the bedside a few minutes later holding a damp cloth and a tube of lotion. He had her roll onto her belly and laid the cool rag over her ass. He apparently couldn’t stop himself from giving her cheek a little pinch.

  She hissed. “Heath.”

  “Sorry. It’s a hell of a view. I wish you could see it.”

  “I can use my imagination. I’ve certainly seen enough of it in twenty-eight years.”

  “But certainly not with such a delightful red tinge. I’m feeling a bit like an artist right now. I just want to stand back and admire my work.”

  She rolled her eyes, but let herself laugh. Her merriment fell away quickly with the knock on the door. She scrambled to grab the covers, but Heath held her wrists down.

  “Just stay where you are. It’s probably one of the girls, and they’ll be considerate enough not to stare. Mind you, that wouldn’t be the case for most in my crew. Just so you know.”

  Yikes. “I’ll…keep that in mind.” The last thing she wanted was to cause scandal amongst the young ones. Matt and Perry would probably blush themselves to incineration, but keep staring while they perished.

  Heath opened the door a couple of inches, and then let Siobhan in. As he’d said, she didn’t even look longer than it took to note Simone’s location in the room.

  “Everything’s all set. Their pilot is flying up to Cincinnati now, so we’ll head to the airport in a few hours.”

  “How are our captives?”

  “Asleep for the moment. Funny how fear makes one sleepy, isn’t it?”

  “What’d you do to them?” Simone asked.

  Siobhan rocked back on her heels in that Heath-like way and took a bite of her folded-over pizza slice. “Nothing physical. Daryn’s good at threa
ts. Probably because everyone knows she’ll follow through on them if pushed. And she’s pretty creative with them.”

  “Are fairy women generally so…”

  He grinned. “Don’t hash your words, Princess,” Heath said.

  “Um. Violent.”

  “We’re not intrinsically violent. We’re practical. Sometimes characteristics of the two things overlap. But, just so you know, as far as our magic goes—at least amongst the Sídhe—male magic tends to be a bit more aggressive. It’s more subtle with the ladies, but no less powerful. We tend to balance each other, if not as couples, throughout the population as a whole.”

  “Interesting.”

  “Get a couple more hours of rest,” Siobhan said. “We won’t bother you until it’s time to leave. Want some pizza? We’ve got lots.”

  “I’ll pass.” Heath looked to Simone.

  “Oh. No, thanks. I don’t know where you girls put it all.”

  Siobhan shrugged. “I think most of it metabolizes upon swallowing. Gotta force more food down to make a dent.” She left, closing the door behind her.

  After a moment, Heath took the cloth away and ran his palm over Simone’s sore ass.

  She clenched.

  “I imagine that’s something you wouldn’t like to repeat.” He reached for the lotion and popped the cap.

  “Dunno. Ask me tomorrow. Or after I’ve had to sit on it.”

  He chuckled and warmed the cream between his palms.

  “Thank you, though…for your restraint. You’ve obviously had some practice.”

  “You’re fishing for info, aren’t you?” He climbed onto the bed and straddled her thighs, gently kneading her tender flesh and rubbing lotion into it. “You can be direct. Everyone else in the crew is.”

  “Fine.” She somehow managed to sound more confident than she actually felt. “Have you…done much of this? With a lot of women?”

  “You want a number?”

  “Yes. I mean, no. I mean…” What did she want? She wasn’t sure she wanted to know it. He’d said he’d never been in a real relationship before, so none of those women could have meant anything to him, but still. They were talking about intimate acts, and separating out the emotional shit from the bedroom fun took some mental gymnastics she wasn’t practiced in. “I don’t really want to think about how many, Heath.”