We found Wendy and her crew hard at work on the pavilion loop. Since she was in casual clothes, we could still call her Wendy. In a few hours, and until the end of the weekend, she’d be Queen Gwendolin to the rest of us fairy folk. Lori—Loralei—was posting the volunteer sign-up sheets to remind everyone what they’d agreed to do for the weekend. Kat, as usual, had volunteered to help with the community dinner on Saturday night. Berto was down for runner duties for the queen tomorrow. Basically, he got to deliver messages for her and make announcements as needed. Mikah and I had signed up for gate duty tomorrow morning. We’d get to remind the folks arriving of the few basic rules of the event and tell them their assigned campsites. It wasn’t a bad gig, as such things go, and it would be nice getting our volunteer shifts out of the way early.
“Need any help?” Mikah asked Wendy.
She shooed us off for now. “Go get your campsite set up and we’ll see if anything needs doing later.” She consulted her master list. “You all are in site seven this year.”
There was one main road that ran through the campground from east to west, paralleling the Middle Saint Vrain Creek to its south. The bridge across the creek was on the east end of the road, and the pavilion loop was north of the bridge. We were camping south of the road, just west of where it split to go north to the loop or east to the bridge.
We’d just pulled in at our site when my phone dinged for an incoming text. It was Leo. He was supposed to be on leave this weekend and joining us. Why did I feel that was about to change?
“Srry sis, leave cncl. Duty calls. Op Moo up 2 u. Have fun.”
“Hurry up and catch those aliens and get out here,” I texted back.
“Not fnny. Ttyl.”
“Leo’s not going to make it, again. I guess we don’t have to save him a spot for his tent.” It was just one more damn thing for this weekend. I hadn’t seen him in months. He said he couldn’t tell me what he’s doing or he’d have to shoot me. Ha ha. Leo and I had always been friends and partners in crime. I missed my favorite accomplice, and I really needed my big brother to make everything okay again. On the other hand, I saw my sister Cordelia way more than I wanted to. She lived in Denver and had plenty of time to harass me.
Leo was thirteen and I was nearly twelve when we lost our mom. Cordelia was the oldest at sixteen, and she took over raising us after that. Which wouldn’t have been horrible, except her interpretation of mothering was incessant nagging and expectations of scholastic perfection. At least Mom had understood that sometimes you just needed to have fun. I still couldn’t believe she was gone. Thirteen years later, and I still missed her like it was yesterday.
Cordie got even worse when our dad died five years ago. Fucking cancer.
While Mikah had been talking to Wendy, I’d managed to get a peek at the camping assignment list. I couldn’t implement Operation Moo if I didn’t know where to find my targets. They called themselves the Beast Lords, and drove up from Colorado Springs. They were, in my opinion anyway, the dark underbelly of our little group. They favored fairly elaborate animal masks, with furry upper body parts. Sometimes with tails, but not always.
A guy named Derek was their leader. He always dressed as a minotaur with huge horns. The first time I saw him, I told Kat he was obviously compensating for something. He was a big guy, and liked intimidating people, and hitting on every hot girl in camp, single or not. He was also a master of knowing how far he could push people without actually getting himself kicked out of the event. He absolutely hated when I mooed at him, which is why I couldn’t resist. I would have felt better if their campsite was a bit further away, but at least there would be another campsite between us and them.
Even though Leo wouldn’t be here to help, that didn’t mean I couldn’t stick with our plan. “I need to run a little errand,” I told Kat. “It shouldn’t take too long and I’ll be right back to help.”
She just shook her head when I retrieved my lumpy, slightly jangling bag from under my seat. Nobody paid me any mind as I sauntered toward the three campsites soon to be shared by Derek and company. It took a little longer on my own, but it was still easy enough to rig the practically invisible thin lines that would set off the cowbells that were carefully concealed up in the trees. Leo was a good teacher and wrote excellent directions.
Kat sighed when I got back. “I can guess where you went. Whatever you did this time, I hope it doesn’t come back to bite you. That guy is a jerk and a bully, and one of these days you’re going to push the wrong button with him.”
“Relax. I’m just teasing. It’s not like anyone is going to get hurt.” Now I was ready to help set up camp.
I had a nice three-room tent that Leo had helped me pick out. It had a central area which unzipped on each end, with separate rooms on each side. I always set up the middle area as kind of a living room. I kept my bed and stuff on one side, and set up the other as a combination dressing room/bathroom. Leo had even got a small porta-potty for me last year so I wouldn’t have to run out to the privy in the middle of the night.
Kat’s tent was a basic one-room number, but the inside was always amazing. She had this large velvet-covered dark blue air mattress that was the envy of all those who had been privileged enough to see it. All of her bedding was plush and inviting, and she had all these gorgeous pillows that looked like they’d been plucked from someone’s harem. Everything in her tent was soft and sensuous.
If the inside of Kat’s tent inspired envy, the boys’ pavilion was utterly mind-blowing. It wouldn’t have looked out of place on a movie set. They had a custom tent made of light and dark purple-striped canvas with little flame banners that snapped in the breeze. The matching floor was insulated from the ground, and the place was quite cozy when they zipped it closed. They even traveled with a little battery-powered space heater in case the weather got cold. We’d been camping during some impressive rainstorms, and they had always kept warm and dry. Even better, they were never averse to letting a friend crash with them when she’d forgotten to keep her sleeping bag from touching the sides of her tent when it rained.
Between the four of us, it didn’t take long to get the vehicles unloaded and the tents up. We all pitched in to help Kat set up her kitchen area. Even though the campsites all came with grills, she always brought her own special cooktop from home. We had an extra screen tent we set up to shade the table and keep her cooking stuff dry in case the weather didn’t cooperate. She used a sturdy lockbox to store the actual food. This was bear country, so the provisions needed to be secured, and we knew better than to keep anything edible in our tents.
This year we’d had a reasonable amount of rain for June, so this trip we didn’t have a fire ban for a change. We’d brought along some firewood in anticipation, and Mikah worked on setting up the campfire. We wouldn’t light it until dusk, but it helped if you set it up while the light was still good.
We did see a few other cars arrive over the course of the afternoon and on into the evening. While Kat was fixing dinner, Berto did the rounds and invited folks over to our campfire later. Mikah had brought a few bottles of blackberry mead to share, and Kat said she’d made a special cake. Kathy and her husband, who were part of Wendy’s crew, said they’d bring raspberry ice cream.
I was starving by the time we finished setting up camp. Dinner, as usual, was wonderful. Kat had warmed up some beef stew she’d made at home. She had croissants and fresh butter to go with it, along with a platter of fresh fruit.
The campfire was snapping and popping when folks started showing up with their camp chairs. There is no smell in the world like the scent of pine trees and a campfire in the mountains on a beautiful June evening. Kat waited until everyone was settled before she unveiled the cake. It was beautifully decorated with trees and little forest animals, and looked perfectly innocuous until you noticed the dryad and centaur getting busy in the background. Oh my… I know the parents in the group made sure their kids didn’t get pieces from that particular section.
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I loved getting to the Sylvan Faire early like this. The night before the Faire officially started was always so mellow and friendly. We got to catch up with friends who we hadn’t seen for a while, and had time to relax while all the later arrivals were hurrying to set up their own camps in the dark. I wished I was in a better mood to appreciate it this year. Every time the bottle passed around, I took seconds. All the couples looked so cozy and happy. That was supposed to be me.
The folks with kids called it an early night, and most everyone else headed back to their own camps around ten. It had gotten quite a bit chillier out, unless you were right by the campfire. I had blackberry mead to keep me warm—and the little toxic voice in my head that was more than happy to remind me of my really long list of personal shortcomings.
Berto made sure the fire was out after the last of our guests had departed. He was smiling, and I could only imagine he was thinking about Mikah and their nice, warm tent. I waited until he was distracted, and snagged the last half-full bottle of mead for myself. I walked very carefully to my tent. The last thing I needed was for anyone to know how drunk I really was. No glass. I wouldn’t need one.
I was four sheets to the wind and putting up another mast when footsteps came crunching through the gravel toward my tent. “Olivia?” It was Kat. “Can I come in?”
I dashed away the tears. “Sure. What the hell. It’s not like anything is going on in here anyway.”
A small candle burned on the low table in the main room, and shadows danced on the tent walls in the flickering light. Kat slipped into the tent, zipping it closed behind her. She was wearing one of her thick, fluffy robes. I couldn’t see the color in the dark, but I knew it was blue, to match her eyes.
I passed her what was left of the bottle. “Wanna drink?”
She licked the rim of the bottle, where I’d just been drinking, and then drank the little mead that remained. She knelt beside me on one of the large floor pillows, and put her warm arms around me. “I’m so sorry, Olivia. He may have been a jerk, but he was your jerk.”
I laughed at that, but those stupid tears came back. “He wasn’t even my jerk. He was someone else’s jerk. I’m such a loser, Kat. Everyone knew he was a bastard but me. What’s wrong with me?”
She hugged me again. “Please don’t be so hard on yourself. He was good looking, and he was charming when he wanted to be. He made you happy and he had a big dick. Sometimes that’s enough. Sometimes it isn’t.”
“You’re so nice to me. How come you like me?” I grabbed her, kissing her aggressively. “You wanna fuck me too? Let’s fuck. I’m good at it. Just ask any of the boys from college.”
She pulled back, but not before she kissed me deeply. “Olivia, you’re drunk. And drunk or sober, I’m not going to ‘fuck you’. If I’m with you, we’re going to make love.” She kissed me sweetly, gently, just tasting my lips with the tip of her tongue. “Oh sweetie, hasn’t anyone ever made love to you before?”
“Oh god! I ruin everything. Never mind.”
“You haven’t ruined anything. I love you Olivia. Stop letting those men use you. You’re not a bad person. You haven’t done anything to deserve it.”
I scrubbed the tears away from my eyes. “You don’t want to know what I’ve done, or you’d never talk to me again. But, I’m cold, Miss Kitty. Will you stay with me tonight anyway?”
“There’s nothing you could do to make me go away.”
“Hah. I was the frat house party slut. ‘Go ask Olivia. She’ll do anything’. I was real popular.” I stood up, almost falling, pulled off my T-shirt and jeans, and finally my bra and underpants. It’s not like she hadn’t seen me naked before, but I’d never felt shy before now. I closed my eyes and just stood there, not quite swaying.
Gentle fingers touched the bruises Colby marked me with. “I’m so sorry he treated you this way.” She kissed me on the lips again, and then rained kisses down my neck. “I’ll never hurt you,” she breathed softly into my ear. “You’re not a slut,” she murmured between kisses. “What you are is beautiful.”
She kissed her way down my body, lingering at each breast as if she could kiss away the marks. She kissed my navel, and then stood, and dropped her robe. She was already naked, and so beautiful—soft and curvy everywhere. She took my hand and blew out the candle, leading me to my bed.
She wrapped herself around me again, and now it was definitely getting warm in here. I nuzzled my face in her silky hair, and smelled the sweet scent of gardenia, warm now in ways that had nothing to do with mead or shared body heat.
Our breasts were pressed together, warm and soft, and my nipples hardened into little peaks. I hoped she couldn’t feel me blushing in the dark. My cheeks were flaming when I kissed her again, taking my time to savor every moment. I tasted her lips with my tongue, and then kissed her deeper and wetter. Her hands stroked my butt, caressing me gently. We spent forever just kissing and learning the secrets of each other’s lips. She tasted so sweet—like wine and cake and Kat.
I shyly cupped her cheeks, pulling her closer, and marveling at the sweet perfection of her curves. The dark was velvet and all I could do was feel. The kisses were slower and deeper and I could barely breathe with the electric tingling running through my body. All I knew were the little nipping kisses running down my neck, and then her lips around my nipple. I was drenched with desire as the lightning bolt shot from my nipple to my clit. I moaned loud, and the boys could probably hear me, but I didn’t care. “Oh god, Kat. Please don’t stop.”
She kissed me again, nuzzling my neck, and I shyly cupped her breast. Her nipple was pebble hard in my palm. Why didn’t I know she had such lovely breasts? I explored her curves and felt goose bumps break out on her bare skin.
We were on our sides, breast-to-breast and face-to-face. She kissed me again, swallowing the little sounds I couldn’t help making. Our bodies were one, breathing in the same rhythm. Our legs were entwined and we never stopped kissing. I felt her hand between us, caressing my belly, moving ever lower until she made me jump. She held me as I writhed against her delicate fingers. They stroked and teased, never stopping, until the orgasm broke over me like waves. I wasn’t quiet as I came again and again at her touch.
She held me as I caught my breath. Taking my hand, she pressed it against her own wetness. I explored her soft outer lips at first before stroking her clit, aroused at her soft moans. I slid one finger inside of her, followed by another, marveling as her body pulsed at my touch. I rolled her onto her back, and knelt between her legs. She held still, scarcely breathing, and let me explore.
I kissed each sensitive nipple before licking a path down her body. She made a small motion as I lay there, so close. I kissed her first, gently, just above those lips. I kissed her again, this time tasting her slick desire. She caught her breath at the first touch of my tongue, her body rising to meet me. I held her tight, just licking at first. I suckled her clit until her body clenched around my fingers, and she screamed deep in her throat. She nearly threw me off with the strength of her orgasm, but I held her and loved on her until she finally pushed me away.
Still breathing hard, she pulled me up next to her. She stopped me from wiping my face and kissed me deeply, her taste on both of our lips. She pulled a blanket over us, and kissed me again. “Sweet, sweet Olivia. I don’t fuck. I make love.” She kissed me over and over. “I love you, Olivia.”
I kissed her back, still shivery with delight. “I love you too.” My eyelids were so very heavy. I drifted off to the scents of gardenia and sex, for once feeling loved, not used.
Chapter Four
Sylvan Faire Shenanigans
It felt like I’d barely closed my eyes when I heard motorcycles and loud diesel engines pulling in just down the road. You could smell the rolling coal from here. I burrowed deeper under the covers, warm against Kat, and tried to ignore the noise and go back to sleep. Between the engines and the loud voices in the middle of the night, I knew it must be Derek and his group. I�
�d nearly succeeded in going back to sleep when I heard jangling cowbells, one group after the other, and a lot of bellowed curses.
“Oh bloody hell, Kat. I forgot about the cowbells. They’re going to kill me. Wendy is going to kill me.” I pulled the pillow over my head and squeezed my eyes closed.
“Oh my god. Is that what you were doing over in their camp today? Really? Cowbells?”
“It was a plan. It was a good plan, even. It would have been a better plan if they’d shown up Friday afternoon like they usually do.”
Feeling particularly drunk and cowardly at the moment, I stayed in my tent even after I heard footsteps and saw lanterns outside in our camp. I’d recognize Derek’s dulcet tones anywhere. “I know she did it. She’s going to pay!”
Then I heard Wendy. Oh, crap. “Be that as it may, Sir Mehmet. You can bring your grievance to court tomorrow. I’ll hear you then. In the meantime, shut up. It’s the middle of the night and you’ve woken up the entire camp at this point. If you can’t follow quiet time, you can turn your little caravan around and head home now. Do. You. Understand?”
Derek stomped off, and the gravel crunched as someone walked over to my tent. Wendy called out, “Olivia, I know you can hear me. You’re going to be at court tomorrow and you’d better have a good explanation, alibi, or defense. And in the meantime, stay away from Derek.”
“Yes, Your Majesty. Sorry, Your Majesty. I really did think they’d arrive around noon. It was just supposed to surprise Sir Mooohmet—not wake up the camp.”
Forging Day (Crucible of Change Book 1) Page 3