by N. R. Larry
Fed up, she slammed her fist down on the keyboard. Then her head. Her forehead hit the plastic and Eden groaned, repeating the motion again and again.
Hopeless. She was hopeless. The work was hopeless.
She might as well—
“Oh honey, no. Just no. This isn’t right.”
The voice and accompanying tsk-tsk took her by surprise. But not nearly as much surprise as raising her head and seeing the glowing woman leaning against the desk, one silvery arm draped over a computer monitor.
Eden reacted with a screech, her wheeled chair catapulting away from the desk and threatening to spill her. Her shoes slipped along the linoleum floor but she finally found her feet and she scrambled to put distance between her and the…apparition?
Was she dreaming? “Who the hell are you?” Eden demanded.
“Sweetheart, I think the better question is why did it take you so long to summon me here?” The woman slipped a finger along a line of free space on the desk, raised it to examine the dust there. She blew it away with a breath of air that sent the dust tumbling to earth like a meteor shower.
“I-I didn’t s-summon you,” Eden said, her voice shaky. She’d broken out in a fine layer of sweat immediately.
The woman shifted into a standing position, the glow around her fading and solidifying into a stunning moonlight-colored gown draped over curves that would make Jayne Mansfield weep with envy. Beautiful was an understatement.
“Let’s approach this from a different perspective, shall we?” She eyed Eden from head to toe. “You are clearly in need of help. From your clothes to your makeup to your…ah…surroundings. I wouldn’t be one to look a gift horse in the mouth, if I were you. The truth is you found just the right combination, Miss Daniels. You found the shortcut. And here I am.”
Chapter 2
Eden’s mouth suddenly went fruitcake-left-out-in-the-sun-for-a-week dry. “What do you mean, shortcut?”
The woman—apparition—fairy—thing twiddled her hand over the keyboard. “The right combination of letters and numbers,” she clarified. “And desperation.”
Though her heart remained in her throat, a struggle to swallow over, Eden’s ability to breathe without pain slowly returned. She stared at the late-night and completely insane visitor. “Care to at least start with a name?” she asked. Then shook her head. She shouldn’t engage with her delusion. That only made the woman more real.
“Call me whatever you want, but think of me as your fairy godmother. Your ticket out of this place for 48 hours.”
Eden’s brow creased. “I don’t follow you.”
The fairy delicately rolled her eyes—not unkindly—and took a step closer. Eden took another one in the opposite direction, determined to keep a good amount of distance between them. “I’m not surprised. Fine, call me Ari.”
“Unless you have an inkling as to what I can do to avoid a mental breakdown, Ari, then you should leave. Or maybe it’s too late. Maybe I’m already in the middle of one.” Eden scratched the side of her head until it ached.
Ari snapped her fingers. “And funny, too. I knew you’d be a good one. Let me put it simply: I’m here because you need me. I help women who are unlucky with love. Shy, nerdy, drably dressed women—like you—who have often fantasized about hot sex lives but never had them. You want to spice up your sex lives and don’t know how.” She bent low in a delicate curtsy and platinum hair spilled around her heart-shaped face. “Enter moi.”
Eden scoffed. “You got the wrong girl, lady. I don’t have time for a sex life.”
Ari let out a chuckle that sounded like mixing wine and chocolate. If wine and chocolate made a sound when mixed. “Oh honey, every woman has time for a sex life. Or must make the time. Sex is an important part of life! And judging from the look of this hovel you live in—”
“This is where I work. I don’t—”
“You absolutely, positively, one hundred percent are going to love what I have to offer you,” Ari finished with a satisfied smile.
Thank goodness they were alone. That was Eden’s first logical thought. Her second was a vow to get an MRI because clearly the woman shouldn’t, couldn’t, be here.
She’d popped right out of thin air. Mental breakdown was sounding more and more likely.
“As I said, you need my help,” Ari continued. “Now let’s see those feet.”
Eden’s eyes widened at the command in the crazy psycho’s voice. “Come again?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what you will do once you put these shoes on. Trust me.”
Ari snapped her fingers a second time and a flash of light swept through the office, blinding in its intensity. When Eden finally cracked her eyes open, the fairy held a pair of shoes: cherry-red with heels as high as a skyscraper. The kind of shoes porn stars wore with ease and normal women broke their ankles just looking at.
“These,” Ari explained with excitement, “will make you irresistible. To whatever man—or woman—you choose.”
“I-I prefer men,” Eden stammered and still felt foolish for talking to this…whatever she was. But a cold sweat had broken out all over her body at the sight of the shoes. Curious.
“When you put these on, every sexual fantasy you can imagine will come true.” Ari leaned closer and spoke with a conspirator’s whisper. “Not to mention, while wearing the shoes the sex you have will make any porn you’ve seen look like a kiddie program on PBS.”
Were her eyes bulging again? Because they felt like they were bulging.
Eden gasped. “I’m not putting those on.” For a plethora of reasons. Number one, she’d break her neck. Number two…one did not indulge a psychotic delusion.
“Of course you’re going to put them on. They’re for you, after all, and you’ll find that they fit you like a glove. Or rather gloves. Or perhaps you’d be more comfortable with the analogy of Cinderella and her glass slippers? Think of these as the same thing except, well, for sex.”
Eden thrust her fingers against her temples and pressed. “I’m not comfortable with any of this,” she grumbled under her breath. “If this is a dream, I need to wake up. Now.”
She was closer to the door than she was to Ari. Maybe with a burst of speed she’d be able to make it out of the room and down the hall before the creature—did she really say fairy godmother?—caught up to her.
Then again, if this wasn’t a dream or a mental breakdown, Ari had arrived out of nowhere. Who knew what kind of magic she’d worked to travel through space?
And time? A frisson of electricity ran up Eden’s spine. Was this something her own subconscious had conjured to help solve the space–time enigma?
Eden tried one more time, keeping her gaze pointedly away from the shoes. “Are you sure you don’t know the correction to my equation for space travel?”
“Honey, you’re wasting time. Sit your bony behind down and let’s try these bad girls on for size.”
Ari’s tone was cajoling yet left no room for resistance. Eden spared another glance toward the door before feeling a tug at her midsection she could not ignore. She couldn’t explain why her body felt magically compelled right back into the chair, swiveling around to face the woman in the moonlight-silver dress. Or why she obediently held up her worm moccasins for inspection.
The fairy clucked her tongue, not impressed by Eden’s wardrobe in the least. “When your 48 hours are up, we might have to have a serious talk about your clothing choices. This is why you need my help, Eden Daniels. Doctor Daniels.” Ari chuckled—that wine-and-chocolate sound again. “I love what you’ve done with your education. It’s the rest of you that is in serious need of an overhaul.”
“Good to know you…approve?”
Eden watched Ari remove her soft-soled slippers, peering at her toes for a moment before slipping one of the fuck me crazy red stilettos home.
“Yes!” Ari exclaimed. She leaned back to examine her handiwork. “I never thought they’d go well with chinos and a button-up oxford shirt, but hey, it’s
a start. Very sexy librarian vibe. Now for the other one.”
She finished setting Eden up in the heels and straightened. Another snap of her fingers to draw attention, and when Eden looked up, Ari’s expression had set in a serious mask.
“You are to have fun. Do I make myself clear? No working while you have these heels. They are for your pleasure. They are your magic carpet. Your ticket to the ball.”
Eden wiggled her toes inside the shoes, surprised to find them comfortable. Still, she didn’t feel any different. “You don’t need to use fairy tales to explain to me. I’ve never been big on fantasy anyway.”
“Why am I not surprised?” Ari gave a little sigh. “Okay, you understand the 48-hour time limit? You can have whatever you want, all manner of hot sex with anyone of your choice. Anytime, anywhere, any level of heat north of scorching. For 48 hours only, while wearing the shoes. Do not take them off. Period!”
“What happens at the end of the time limit?” Eden asked.
“Your life returns to normal.”
“A normal wasteland without prospects…” Why did she feel like beating her head against the keyboard again?
“There are prospects wherever you like, wherever you look. But you have to actually see them, Doctor Daniels. Still, the premise is simple. Do you understand?”
“I understand that I am currently speaking with a delusion created by my own mind due to severe exhaustion,” she groused.
Ari shrugged. “Whatever gets the job done. Whatever you want. Whoever you want. I’ll be back.” She wiggled her fingers in a goodbye and disappeared as quickly as she’d arrived.
Eden sat for a moment longer, adjusting her toes inside the shoes and wondering if she were asleep, in the middle of a nightmare, or…
The or scared her.
Standing on a wobble, her balance struggled to adjust to the new height created by the heels, and she kept a hand out to make sure if she fell she’d be able to catch herself.
“I’ve gone full-on delusional,” she said out loud. Hobbling toward the desk, not used to walking in heels. Especially red fuck me hard stilettos. “I’ve finally cracked.”
She should call it a day, head home, go to bed.
You haven’t gotten your work done!
Her subconscious screamed at her to continue with her plan. To test the equation again, tweak it, make it work. Stay until she figured it out.
Eden’s ankle twisted when she wasn’t paying strict attention to her feet and she went down, vainly trying to catch herself on the chair but landing on her elbows when it spun away under her weight.
“Great.” She groaned as she straightened, her hip bones aching from contact with the hard floor. She rubbed at her elbow. “Whoever decided to call this the funny bone was wacko.”
She didn’t know how she made it home—the whole drive was a complete blur—or how she managed to get into her bed still wearing those heels and very little else. But she vividly remembered the view of the night sky through the skylight directly above her bed, and smiling at the familiar constellations above.
Those same stars had looked down on her from her first memory, and through the joyous years with her father. Until he was gone and only she remained behind, still missing him dreadfully.
“Orion,” she murmured plaintively as if to comfort herself, then burrowed deep into the covers.
Orion. The hunter constellation with his bright, beautiful belt. He’d always been her favorite. The star system she sought out each night before sleep. Weather permitting, of course. Yet even when weather didn’t permit, she knew where to find him in the night sky.
Orion was the first constellation she’d learned to identify. Orion was her childhood companion who had watched her grow up, watched over her after the loss of her father. Orion was the only constant in her life. The only one she could truly count on never to leave her.
Orion…
A deep chuckle sounded next to her ear. “Well, well. At your service, sweetheart.”
Chapter 3
Eden shot straight up toward the ceiling and would have clung there like a cartoon cat if she were physically capable. The moment she came back to earth, her nerves raw, she noticed the very naked man propped against her pillows in the space she’d recently vacated.
Would she ever get her breathing under control? Probably not. Not when the universe kept throwing Buick-sized wrenches at her.
“You’re so cute when you’re freaked out,” the naked man told her with a sly grin. “Why don’t you settle down and let me rub your calves? That’s part of your ultimate fantasy, is it not? You’d like to start out the evening with a foot rub and my large callused hands caressing up your ankles, up to your knees. Then I might use my mouth, licking and sucking a path higher until you’re moaning beneath me.”
Her heart slammed against her ribs. It took a few seconds for her eyes to focus on more than the acres of tanned skin, the slight spread of black chest hair nestled amidst two impressively large pecs.
Who the hell was this guy and what was he doing in her bed?
“What do you know about my fantasies?” Eden asked breathlessly. Then shook her head, her mouth dry. “Here I go again. I’m engaging with a delusion. I’m arguing with a clearly fractured part of my own mind.” Because the guy was simply too good-looking to exist.
“Does this feel like a delusion to you?”
Before she could react, the man in her bed grabbed her hand and placed it on the rather large, definitely hard erection between his legs.
Eden jerked away as if she’d been scalded, falling off the edge of the mattress with her knees rolling over top of her head. She landed square on her back, the air knocked out of her and her hand throbbing from where it had touched his—his—
She might be officially out of her mind, but the pain felt real.
The man had certainly felt real, too.
And she was still wearing those damn shoes. She hadn’t taken them off.
The man peeked over the side at her, eyes of supernova-blue piercing straight through her. “I’ve never had quite that reaction before. You’re a woman of rare and unparalleled delight, Eden Daniels. I can see it already. It will be a pleasure to bed you and taste your sweet cream.”
“Doctor,” she corrected automatically with a hiss. “It’s Doctor Daniels.” Wincing, she pushed up to a seated position and ignored the offered hand from the flesh-and-blood man with the enormous—
“Yes, I’m aware. I know all about you. I know how you like your sex, sweet with a hint of roughness. I know that you haven’t allowed a man to touch you in a year, and how you pleasure yourself on Sundays after a glass of Chianti and a hot bath.”
“It hasn’t been a year,” she argued, blushing.
“It has. Stop lying to yourself. More convenient to forget, I guess. I’m not sure what I would do if I had to go that long without the pleasure of a woman. Oh wait, never mind. It’s only been a thousand years for me,” he told her.
He kept his hand outstretched as she stood, taking a few wobbly steps in the opposite direction, wrapping her arms across her chest. She still wore the bra and panties she’d had on when she fell into bed.
“Don’t you want to ask me about my thousand-year dry spell?” the man prompted.
Her head snapped in his direction. Instead of splayed against her pillows, the naked stranger now sat with his legs crossed and a sheet draped over his lap.
“Tell me your name.” Why was it she had to consistently insist her delusions introduce themselves?
“You already know me, Eden,” the GQ model insisted.
She shook her head. “Don’t say my name like that.”
“Like what? Eden.”
She shivered. He spoke her name reverently. Like she was some kind of sex goddess. Like she was the hottest woman alive. Like he couldn’t wait to get his hands on her.
Or at least that’s the way it sounded in her ears.
“Who are you?”
He grinned. �
�You honestly don’t know? Eden…I’m Orion.”
She laughed. She actually laughed. “Orion like the constellation?”
His expression soured a little. “Orion like the handsome hunter from Greek mythology. Except it’s not mythology. It’s my life. Your history books got a few things wrong.”
“You don’t have an accent,” she said. As if that alone proved he was a delusion. A figment of her imagination. Or she was dreaming.
“Because I’m here for you, to make your wildest fantasies come alive. If you want an accent then you shall have one.”
Eden remained firm. “I want you to speak in your normal tone. Or I would if this were real.”
When he spoke again his voice was deeper and his Greek accent had grown thick, his syllables rich and rough. “You like this better, little one?”
Eden sighed and something inside of her curled deliciously. Like little tendrils of fire in her stomach. “I would like being awake and not insane better,” she told him, crossing her arms over her chest.
“You aren’t insane. You are gifted. The shoes are not given to just anyone. You must know how deserving you are to wear them,” Orion stated.
At once the heat disappeared and the ache in her head returned. “Oh my God. The stupid shoes.” She stared down at the red heels and wondered if they had been treated with some kind of hallucinogenic compound. Because this couldn’t be real.
She was about to kick the damn things off her feet but then Orion stood and the sheet dropped to the floor. Eden hurried to turn her gaze to the wall. To the floor. To the ceiling. To anything other than him.
“Does it matter why I am here? It’s real. Would you like me to show you? Would you like to feel me pressed against you? Inside of you?”
“Stay where you are,” she warned, holding up a finger as though it would do any good.
“Eden, you chose me. You want me,” Orion stated.
“I don’t want you.”
“You do.”
She squeezed her eyes shut. Almost forgetting how she stood there in her underwear. And red high heels. “You’re not real. Orion was a figure from Greek mythology. A hunter employed by Artemis. Blinded, with his vision restored by the rays of the rising sun.”
