Lucky Between the Sheets: An Anthology of Stories that Get to the Point

by L. A. Boruff

  Tom eased my pants down over my hips, taking my panties with them. They fell to puddle at my feet, and I had to take a second to get my shoes off so I could nudge them and my clothes out of the way. I went to kneel in front of him, but his hand on my hip stopped me. “Where are you going?”

  “I was – oh!” Words completely vanished as Tom pushed one finger deep into my pussy. His hands were wide enough that even one finger was enough for a good stretch.

  He withdrew almost completely before thrusting back into me so fast it pulled me up on my toes.

  “Tom!” I yelled, drawing a pleased-sounding chuckle from him. I grabbed for him, my fingernails biting into his forearm where he still held my hip.

  “You sure you can take it?” he asked, his voice thick, all trace of amusement gone.

  I forced my eyes open and settled on my heels to look down at him. “You tell me.” My words were pure invitation.

  Heat flared through me when he fucked me hard, driving into my slick cunt again and again. I swore when he curled his finger forward to catch against my G-spot. It was a whirlwind of sensation, forcing me so high that it was no time before I was right on the edge of ecstasy.

  He kept up the same rhythm until I spilled over the other side. Warmth spread out through my limbs as I clenched around his digit, my fingers gripping him so tightly I thought I might break skin.

  Or at least I did when I started to come down and things like rational thought came back. I snatched my hand away and looked down to see sharp indents in his arm. “Oops.”

  Tom just smiled. “Oh no. I earned those.” His finger slipped free, his hand falling away from my hip.

  Cillian caught my chin, turning me for another deep, searing kiss. I heard Tom fumbling with his clothes, the hiss of his own zipper.

  When I looked back at Tom, I saw he’d taken off his clothes. I kind of missed the rolled-up sleeves, but I appreciated the view. I’d seen some of his tattoos while he’d been dressed; what was revealed to be the tail of a dragon looped around his arm. That definitely wasn’t the only one, though – his arms and shoulders were pretty much covered. He wasn’t chiseled like Cillian, instead having the more solid build of a weightlifter.

  His cock drew my attention, standing at attention from between his legs. His hand closed around it to give a couple of leisurely pulls while I watched.

  “Show him a good time, love,” Cillian murmured in my ear. “And I’ll take care of you.”

  I licked my lips to wet them as I knelt between Tom’s legs. The carpet was a standard shade of apartment beige, but it wasn’t too uncomfortable under my knees. I wrapped my hand around the base of his thick shaft, my eyes on his as I bent forward to lick the sensitive underside.

  Fabric shifted and Cillian’s knees cracked as he knelt behind me. His fingers slid along my center, teasing at the most sensitive areas. “Remember what I told you.”

  I needed to test that out. I opened wide and drew Tom deep inside. Two long fingers pushed up into my cunt, catching my breath. When I started to slowly bob up and down, Cillian matched my leisurely rhythm.

  I hollowed out my cheeks as I moved over Tom. His hands settled on the sides of my head, his fingers tangling in my hair. Occasionally he guided the pace, but he didn’t try to push any further than the back of my tongue.

  Everything I did – speeding up, slowing down, teasing him with my tongue, pulling almost all the way off before drawing him in deep – Cillian did to me. When I settled into a fast rhythm, Cillian slipped free only to replace his fingers with his cock. He seemed less worried about keeping up with me then, instead steadily fucking me with one finger on my clit so it rolled over my sensitive nub with each sharp thrust.

  Tom’s grip tightened, holding me in place as he thrust into my mouth. He didn’t try and fuck my throat, just kept a fast, rough pace. I let myself get lost in it, just let go and feel.

  My fingernails dug into the backs of Tom’s calves as ecstasy rolled through me, but they weren’t even close to done. As they chased their pleasure, I was pushed over the edge again and again until I had to push Cillian’s hand away from my hypersensitive clit before it got to be too much.

  At last, Tom started to lose his rhythm. He fell still before the essence of his release flooded my mouth. He slipped free immediately, his fingers gently stroking through my hair.

  After another couple dozen thrusts, Cillian buried himself deep one last time so I could feel the pulse of his orgasm.

  It seemed so quiet in the room after that, the silence broken only by the sounds of the three of us trying to catch our breath.

  Cillian eased back. I sat down heavily, careful to keep my delicate bits off the scratchy carpet. “Are you guys staying?” I wasn’t entirely sure there’d be enough room in my bed for everyone, but it seemed like the sort of thing to ask.

  Tom’s eyes flicked behind me to Cillian for a moment before meeting mine. “No, we should go.”

  I nodded. “Okay.” It felt a bit awkward, now that I knew they were leaving. It was a lot more natural in the morning than thirty seconds later. “Well, I had a good time.”

  Cillian brushed a kiss over my bare shoulder before he pushed himself to his feet. “I’m sure we’ll see you again soon, love.”

  I didn’t doubt it. They fixed their clothes and both kissed me soundly. It wasn’t long before I was on my own again, and the apartment felt so large and empty around me without them there. Large and empty was just fine, I told myself sternly. That had been exactly what I needed. And now I needed a shower. I headed into my small bathroom and started the water running before looking at myself in the mirror.

  A few loves bites dotted my pale skin, but I definitely looked like I’d had a pretty good night. I couldn’t help but smile. It had been a very good night.

  3

  I didn’t see Cillian for a few weeks, but that wasn’t abnormal. Nor was the fact that the next time I did see him was when I was getting my flirt on at work. “You’ve never seen Galaxy Quest?” I asked incredulously. “It’s, like, the best Star Trek movie.”

  The man opposite the counter from me wasn’t normally my type. His name was Jazz. He was probably about five-nine and had a man-bun. But he was nice, and he hadn’t been obnoxious or rude. After I’d made the first move, he’d happily reciprocated.

  “I’ve heard that before.” He had a nice smile too, which he flashed at me. “I dunno, maybe I’ve just never had anyone to see it with.” He took a sip of the cappuccino I’d just made him, keeping his eyes locked right on mine.

  The bell above the door jangled as someone opened it. We seemed to be at the can I get your number stage of the interaction, but if Jazz was willing to hang out, I could get it after. “I’ll be just one sec,” I told him as I looked at the door.

  “Sure,” he agreed with another smile. He had nice lips, too – full and soft-looking.

  I felt a surge of mixed emotions when I saw Cillian striding across the room. I never failed to have a good time when he was around, but having the option to be in control of my own sex life would be nice.

  He marched right up to the counter, his bright blue eyes moving between Jazz and me. “Oh, hello. This looks promising, doesn’t it?” Even now, even when I knew what was coming, I wasn’t immune to the deep lilt of his accent.

  I held up my hand. “Just don’t.” I was pretty sure it was already too late to stop him. It was a lose-lose situation. If I shooed Jazz out of the coffee shop, I didn’t have his number and it might be seen as rude. But if I didn’t, Cillian was going to do what he always did.

  Cillian leaned his elbow on the counter, turning to face the other man. “Cillian Kennedy.” He offered Jazz his hand.

  Jazz eyed it for a second before going in for the handshake. “Jazz Mayne.”

  “Jazz. Good name.” Cillian nodded. “You ever fucked Eva before, Jazz?” Casual, like it was a perfectly reasonable question. Are you enjoying the weather, and by the way, have you fucked Eva?

  Jazz
looked between us, his eyebrows raising. “No?” The word was drawn out into a question.

  Cillian clapped Jazz on the shoulder, his hand lingering longer than it probably should have for someone he’d just met. Cillian was a toucher, and not just with me. “You should. Her cunt feels like absolute heaven.”

  I closed my eyes and willed myself to disappear through the floor. It never worked. “Thanks, Cillian,” I said through gritted teeth. “Any chance you could skip this part of the conversation and just order some damn coffee?”

  “I don’t know why you’re so touchy about it, love.” Even now, as irritated with him as I was, the way his mouth caressed love sent memories of the last night we’d shared cascading through my mind. “You’re a real hellcat in bed.” His attention turned back to Jazz. “She likes it rough, but she gives as good as she gets.”

  Jazz’s expression completely shut down. “Thanks for the coffee.” He turned and practically ran out of the shop, fast enough I worried he’d burn his hand as coffee sloshed out of the cup. Yep. That was the reaction Cillian usually got.

  The bell jangled as the door shut with a sense of finality. My shoulders slumped in defeat. He wasn’t coming back. Hands on my hips and eyes narrowed in a glare, I turned my attention to Cillian. “Why did you do that? Why do you always fucking do that?”

  He seemed unperturbed by my anger, his blue eyes flashing with mischief as he grinned at me. “I’m helping, aren’t I? For a culture that’s so obsessed with sex, you sure don’t like talking about it.” He reached out and tweaked my chin. “It worked pretty well for you last time, didn’t it? Although...” He paused and seemed to think for a moment. “Well, old habits.”

  I couldn’t help the warmth flooding into my face at those particular memories. “That’s not the point, Cillian. I should be able to arrange my own sex life without you showing up.”

  “You’re just lucky. Speaking of luck…” He looked around before leaning in conspiratorially. We were alone in the shop; it was that magic time after the early rush and before the lunch rush when it was quiet. I usually had Sam, the other person who worked most mornings with me, take her break then. “I’m actually here on a mission.”

  “You mean other than driving someone else out of my bed?” I folded my arms. I wasn’t falling for it this time. Nope.

  “That’s never my mission, either.” That was faintly chiding, and where the hell did he get off scolding me? He was the one who chased all of my other potential partners off. I opened my mouth to say something, but he cut in first. “This is about you, love, and your family.”

  I closed my mouth with a snap. He didn’t know my family. Mom lived in a tiny town in Massachusetts, clear on the other side of the country. I had no siblings, never knew my dad. “My family.”

  “You’re half-leprechaun. On your dad’s side.”

  I stared at him for a second before I burst out laughing. “Yeah, okay. Good one. See you the next time you want to interfere in my sex life.”

  He smiled patiently, but he wasn’t laughing. After a few seconds, he still wasn’t laughing. My own mirth died away, replaced with another glare. “Okay, you’ve had your joke.”

  “I’m not joking. Your dad died just a few days ago, and as his next of kin, that makes you responsible for his pot.” Sympathy lined Cillian’s face.

  “His…” I trailed off. “Dad had a grow-op? I’m not licensed for that.”

  He tweaked my chin again. “Gold, love. Pot of gold. It passes down in the family.”

  “Okay.” I turned away from him and picked the cloth sitting by the sink. The counters were already clean, thanks to the lull in business, but I started wiping at them anyway. “Nice talk. Seeya later.”

  Cillian let out a sharp sigh. “This is serious. Leprechauns are responsible for keeping their pots safe, both for your sake and for all fairies.”

  Not that I was considering even for a second that he was telling the truth, but I whirled on him to demand, “How would that be my responsibility if I’ve never even seen it?”

  “You know where it is.” He folded his arms, bringing one hand up to tap his chin. “These past few days, you’ve been a bit restless, haven’t you? You wanted to go out and just go, but you didn’t know why or where, right?”

  I didn’t answer. That was a lucky guess. People got restless all the time. It didn’t mean they were half-leprechaun.

  “It’s calling to you. And if you don’t get ahold of it soon, well, the Queen’ll send her dogs after you.” His face was grave, the most serious I’d ever seen him. “You don’t want that, love.”

  “What queen? What are you talking about? Dogs?”

  “Queen of the Fae.” He paused and bobbed his head. “Over here, at least. They broke with home a few hundred years ago. Her dogs are… Well, let’s just say you don’t want them after you. They’ll hold a scent forever, hunt you down until they chase you into the ground.”

  A chill crawled along my spine. “That sounds pleasant.” I shook my head like that would help me clear it. “Do you want coffee or not?” I put as much warning into my tone as I could.

  “Think about it, love. Haven’t you always been just a bit lucky?”

  Despite myself, I thought about it. It was true. I’d always had a habit of things coming together for me, of lucking into things, or getting unexpected pleasant surprises. “Except when you show up to interfere in my sex life. It’s just a coincidence.”

  “Is it?” He inclined his head to me.

  I leaned back against the counter, my hands between the edge of it and my backside. “So where is my p- my gold, then?” Calling it my pot just didn’t sound right.

  “The Queen has it.” Regret colored his voice. “Until you can prove you’re enough of a fairy to take it. And if you can’t…”

  I stared at him incredulously. “Let me get this straight. If I don’t go get it, I’m dead. If I go and try to get it, and the Queen decides I’m not good enough or whatever, I’m dead. Right?”

  Cillian nodded.

  I pressed my lips together between my teeth, even as the hair at the back of my neck stood up. He was entirely too serious, like he actually meant it or something. “This stopped being funny about five minutes ago, and now it’s just mean-spirited. You need to leave.”

  “I don’t think you want me to do that, yet. See, I’m about two steps ahead of one of her dogs coming to summon you to Court.” His hand came up almost like he was going to reach for me before it rested on the counter. I was a little too far away for that. “However much you think you don’t like me right now, I promise you don’t want to be alone in the Fairy Court.”

  I moved a bit closer to him. It wasn’t that I believed him, obviously, but his sincerity was enough to make me nervous. At least for a second.

  I was about to open my mouth to give him a piece of my mind when the door jangled. With my work smile pasted on my face, I turned to greet whoever had come in.

  The tall, elegant man immediately set me on edge. I couldn’t put my finger on it at first, but he was just too much. Too good looking, with sharp features and shiny-looking black hair. Too confident, sauntering in like he owned the place. Too arrogant, with the sneer as his eyes flicked between me and Cillian. He was physically flawless, but I wanted him out of the shop as soon as possible.

  “Jack’s daughter.” It was a statement, rather than a question, in a very similar accent to Cillian’s. His voice was deeper, almost a growl.

  “I don’t know who my dad was. I’m Eva.” I gestured to the various coffee-making machinery keeping me company behind the counter. “What can I get for you?” Even though I was fairly sure he didn’t want coffee. But I had a job to do, and in the absence of knowing exactly what was going on, I was going to do it.

  He reached into the front pocket of his dark jeans. I tensed, trying to look for the store’s phone without actually moving. Would I be able to get to it if he pulled a weapon? Probably not. It was over by the door to the backroom. I shift
ed toward it, trying to draw as little attention to myself as I could.

  My anxiety crested when his hand came back out, but he only offered me a folded slip of paper. When I stared at it, he gestured impatiently. “The Queen has called you to Court.”

  “Right.” I delicately took the paper from him, holding it between two fingers like it might bite me. I was so far out of my depth, I didn’t know how to respond. If Cillian was playing a prank on me, he was committed.

  “And an escort, or must Eva come alone?” Cillian’s question was offhand, almost like he was bored.

  “What do you want in the Queen’s Court, Trickster?” the stranger asked with outright hostility.

  “Well…” Cillian gave me a wink. I’d seen that wink a number of times, and usually it made me feel weak in the knees. Now it just made me feel like I was in way over my head. “I have a feeling once Eva gets her pot back, she’ll feel like celebrating. She does this thing when she’s sucking your cock where-”

  “Nope.” That was a step too far. Physically perfect men handing me invitations on paper that felt delicate enough to be a butterfly’s wing was one thing. The idea that I was somehow half-leprechaun was one thing.

  But Cillian extolling my virtues to every man who came within five feet of me? “We’re done with this conversation.” I set the paper carefully down. “How do we get there?” I realized then that Cillian hadn’t asked if he could come with me and I certainly hadn’t said yes, but I didn’t really want to be alone in… whatever this was.

  “I’ll ensure you get there.” That was almost a threat on the stranger’s part.

  “Can’t Cillian just take me?” My eyes flicked to Cillian. “Can’t you?”

  “The Queen is very insistent you attend,” the stranger replied before Cillian could say anything. “I am to ensure your safe arrival, even if that means stopping those who would seek to get in my way.” That was pointedly addressed to Cillian.

  “You think you could stop me?” Cillian asked lightly.

  “I think the Queen would see it as an act of aggression if you tried to interfere.” That almost seemed like a warning. He offered me a slight bow, bending from the waist before turning and leaving as abruptly as he’d come in.