Moon Swept: Otherworld Tales of First Love Page 4

  Then, we were standing, and he walked me back against the table, gently laying me down on the cluttered surface. Something stabbed my back and I shifted as he pulled out a pencil from behind my shoulder and tossed it aside.

  As he began to unbutton my jeans, I propped myself up on my elbows. “I have to tell you something.”

  He paused. “You don’t have any protection with you?”

  “I can’t get pregnant—we were given a birth control charm from a healer back in Otherworld. I can’t catch most FBH diseases, either. But Chase…” I paused, not wanting to admit what I was about to, but I felt he should know. “You’ll…you’re…my first.”

  He paused, lifting his head to stare at me. “You mean, as long as you’ve been around, you never…”

  I shook my head. “Not like this. Not ever. I never met anyone before who I wanted to sleep with.”

  “Then, I’ll be gentle. But you have to promise to tell me if I need to slow down or speed up, or whether something feels good. Deal?” His smile had gone from bewildered to hungry, and I could smell the desire wafting off of him. It was heady, musk-filled and powerful.

  My stomach leaped. I was going through with this—I was actually going through with it, and what surprised me most, was that I wanted to. Nothing save an earthquake could stop me now. It was like the genie had been released from the bottle and suddenly, every emotion in the book was bursting out, leaving me feeling wanton and lusty.

  “I promise.”

  And then, it was a tangle of removing shirts and jeans and shoes. Chase fell over while trying to get the leg of his pants untangled from where it had gotten twisted around his leg. He landed on the pile of clothes, looking chagrined, but fully—forcefully—ready for me.

  I began to laugh and pounced on him, straddling his groin, feeling his erection, thick and hard, pressing against me. I slid myself along it, watching as he let out a long moan, bucking beneath me.

  Leaning down, I grazed my breasts across his chest and he cupped them. I adjusted so that he could reach them with his mouth and settled into a haze of hunger as his lips tightened around my nipple. He reached down with one hand to finger me and another explosion of heat left me panting. All I could think about was the need for him to scratch my itch, to fill me so full that it drove out all other thoughts.

  “Delilah, I don’t know if I can wait…” He was shifting beneath me, and I could feel the strain in his voice. “It might be uncomfortable…”

  “Now…please now…don’t worry about me.” I was so wet, and I ached so much that even pain would be a welcome end to the hunger.

  He shifted, rolling me over so that he was nestled between my legs, between my arms. As he slowly lowered himself into me, easing in to spare me as much pain as possible. He hadn’t been lying—Chase was more than well endowed and, at first, there was pain.

  He was thick, the shaft of his penis stretching me wide, but he eased in inch by inch. He paused, then slowly began to move, driving himself deeper each time. With each thrust, the world receded until the only things that existed were Chase, me, and the incredible feel of our bodies moving in unison. Another sharp pain, then rising pleasure as Chase touched me again, urging me on. He drove me forward until the heat built to a crescendo, and I tumbled into a dark, deep hole. As I came to rest, I opened my eyes to find him resting his head on my chest, looking spent.

  We had cleaned up in the showers that were in the locker room adjacent to the morgue. I finished first—I didn’t have to make sure every hair was in place like Chase did, given we were still in the FH-CSI building. As he pushed through the doors, I looked up from where I was sitting in a small lounge area. I had deliberately kept myself from thinking ahead, from wondering what came next—if anything. If this was a one-time deal, I’d accept it, though I realized that, in my heart, I wanted it to be more. Something had clicked when I was entangled in Chase’s arms and I realized that I was lonely. Now, I wanted something I had never known was missing from my life.

  As he sat down next to me, I looked up, searching his face, waiting for him to take the lead.

  “Delilah…I need to know. Is this all you want? Or, can I see you again?” The sound of his voice echoed the beat of my heart. “Because, I really want to see you again. On a date, I mean.”

  Relief flooding through me, I smiled and took his hand. “I’d like that. To see you again…to see where this leads. But remember, I’ve never been in a relationship before. So tell me if I do something that hurts you. Be honest with me, and I’ll be honest with you. That’s all I ask—just be honest with me.”

  “I promise,” he whispered. “Cross my heart…and hope to—”

  “Don’t say it,” I quickly stopped his hand from completing the motion. “You never know what tomorrow will bring. Or who is listening. Your promise is good enough for me.”

  And then, awash in the glow of emotions I barely could give a name to, we sat, holding hands, and slowly—very slowly—began to explore each other’s lives.

  SHADOWS OF LOVE

  Menolly looks to a future of children, love, and living a normal life.

  Takes place in Otherworld, shortly before she was caught by Dredge.

  “The Harvest Home festival is coming up next month.” Camille stirred honey into her porridge.

  We were gathered around the breakfast table. Father had left for work early, and it was just the three of us gathered around the table, eating a leisurely breakfast. Today was a rest day—no work—but that didn’t mean we could laze around, as much as we needed it. Work had been grueling the past few months, and everybody was wearing tired. Camille was chasing a serial killer and not having much luck. Delilah was floundering in a mire of paperwork they’d stuck her with doing. And me? I was gearing up to start an investigation that left me very nervous. The YIA wanted me to go spying on Dredge, the Scourge. He was a vampire, the worst one around. I shivered as I thought about it. Vampires terrified me, and it had nothing to do with the fact that Father hated them so much. There was something visceral about them, carnal and wicked and lurid.

  I bit into a buttercream biscuit and sighed. “I love these. I’m so glad Mother left the recipe for us.” She had been gone a long time, our mother, but evidence of her was everywhere. On the mantel, in the anniversary clock Father had bought for her over Earthside. In the décor, which she had picked out piece by piece. In the rhythm of the household, which Camille did her best to maintain. She had been gone far longer than we had been with her, but she was still all around us.

  Delilah licked honey off her fingers. “What do we have to do today?”

  Camille pulled out her schedule. She was a list maker. “It’s time to begin cleaning for autumn, so the servants will drag the rugs outside and beat them. Gather all your sheets and bedclothes and take them to Jenka. We’re paying her to come in and do a massive washing. Then, I thought the three of us could go out to the berry patch. The last of the blackcaps are out, and we should gather them for pies and jam. This afternoon, sort through your clothes and figure out what to store for the winter. Tomorrow we switch over wardrobes. Tonight, after dinner, we’ll polish the best silver.”

  We had servants but Mother had insisted we learn how to run a household from an early age. From the day we could first walk, we were given chores. By the time she died, it was second nature to pitch in and take on our share of the work. Unlike most houses affiliated with the Court and Crown, we didn’t have a large staff, and we didn’t leave everything up to the head housekeeper.

  “I have a date tonight. I won’t be here for dinner, and I can’t help with the silver.” I toyed with my biscuit. “Keris is taking me out dancing.” I smiled softly, thinking about the man who had slipped into my life with a sudden force and passion. He was our next door neighbor, and I’d scarcely paid any notice to him for all the time he had lived there. Until the past six months…until he found me crying in the garden.

  When I was very young, Mo
ther used to tell us stories. She called them fairytales. And most of them involved a princess and a prince and a dance…or some such variation. When I was little, I used to dream of being a princess at the Court and Crown, but it wasn’t long before I realized that no matter what happened, Camille, Delilah, and I would never manage to enter that world. At least, not as equals. Our mother’s blood killed any hope of ever being truly part of our father’s world.

  For years, I managed to push aside my disappointment. I didn’t belong, and that was okay. I made my own way. I learned to fend for myself. My best friends were my sisters. But some days it was harder than others. And on this particular day, I had been at the palace, running something out to my father that he had forgotten. He asked me to stop and have lunch with him, so we ate in the cafeteria, and during that time, he introduced me to at least four guardsmen, all of whom I knew were single.

  Every now and then father did this to us…well, to Delilah and I. He wasn’t worried about Camille finding a man. She had no trouble going after the men she wanted, though ever since our cousin Shamas had fled the city, she had lost some of her joy. But she was seeing someone new now, and she hadn’t told us about him yet, which meant there was something about him that was sure to piss off our father.

  I did my best to smile and fend my way through lunch. The four guardsmen were polite enough, but I could tell that they were uncomfortable. Halfway through the meal, Father excused himself to handle some emergency, and I was left alone with the men at the table.

  “I’m sorry. My father has his duties. Please, don’t feel like you need to stay and entertain me.” I had found it best to be blunt.

  “No problem.” The smiles and jokes faded away and they quickly excused themselves. Alone, I stared at my plate, then picked up my purse and left the table. On the way out, I passed by a large pillar. I caught a glimpse of one of the guys I had been talking to. He didn’t notice me, but I still thought it might be polite to say a last goodbye. As I walked up behind him, however, I could hear him talking to another guardsman.

  “Ob Tanu is nuts if he thinks that any of us want his daughter. She’s a windwalker, for cripes sake. A half-breed. Who knows what her kids would turn out to be.”

  “True. You know, her mother was full-blooded human. Trash-breed…Sephreh probably wore her out with riding her. No human can keep up with us. Use ‘em and toss ‘em…Say,” he added with a laugh. “Maybe I should check out his daughter. At least she’d be an easy hole to poke.”

  My cheeks flamed. I stumbled back, trying to run before he saw me. I couldn’t face him, but I couldn’t stand up for myself. He was my father’s comrade and if I caused trouble, my father would also raise the roof and that would just get everybody in trouble.

  I managed to escape from the cafeteria without being noticed and, skirt billowing in the wind, I dashed into the street and hailed the first cab I saw. As I climbed into the back and the horses picked up their gait, I leaned back against the seat, silent tears glistening on my cheek. Before long, we were on the outskirts of the town, near home. I paid the driver—ignoring his questioning look—and slipped into the back garden, where I dropped on a bench. The tears began to flow in earnest then, cascading down my face as I gave into the heartache and sobbed, leaning my head against a boulder next to the bench. Ivy covered the boulder, and I could see a tiny garden spider scurrying through it, going about its day. For some reason, the industrious little creature made me cry harder, though I had no idea why.

  A few minutes later, my sobs had worked their way out of my throat, the tears still coming but quietly now. I had a headache and was thinking about just going up to my room for a nap when a hand touched my shoulder.

  “Menolly? Are you all right?” The voice was soft and sensuous, with an edge of concern skirting the edge.

  I glanced up to see our neighbor, Keris. He was around our age—or at least, in relative years, the Fae lived longer than half-Fae—and while we had met before, it was always under hurried circumstances. But he had always been polite and nice, and once he brought back Mr. Bumbles—the hedgehog that had escaped from Delilah’s menagerie.

  Struggling to compose myself, I wiped my eyes. It was no use pretending I hadn’t been crying. I shrugged and tried to force a smile. “I’m…Everything’s…” But try as I might, I couldn’t get the words out of my mouth to tell him I was okay. I couldn’t vocalize feelings that were a million miles away.

  Keris sat down beside me, his eyes narrowing. “Has anybody been bothering you again?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, I’ve lived next door long enough to hear some of the things people have shouted at you girls over the past few years. Menolly, what happened?” He looked so concerned and sounded so sincere that it set me off again.

  I coughed on a fresh uprising of tears. “I’m fine. Really…really.” And then I stopped. Why pretend? Why walk away from the truth? I was so tired of listening to the subtle jabs and slings people fired at us. I was exhausted with pretending that none of it mattered.

  “Some days, I can handle the insults. Sometimes, we just laugh it off because really—what kind of person acts this way? But today…for some reason…” I let out a long sigh and hiccupped. Keris offered me his handkerchief and I dabbed at my tears as I told him what had happened. By the time I was done, I was blushing with embarrassment, but my face was so red from crying anyway that I figured it wouldn’t make any difference.

  Keris stared at me. For a moment, I expected him to break into laughter, to suddenly turn it into a joke and make the day that much worse. I was steeling myself for further humiliation when he reached out and took my hands in his. “Menolly, these men…they are nothing. You’re worth a dozen of them. They would never measure up to you. They’d never be worthy of you.”

  His skin was soft against mine and I caught my breath, suddenly aware that we were sitting very close. As I looked into his eyes, it felt like they were so deep that if I moved—one fraction of an inch—I would fall in and never surface.

  “I’ve watched you over the years, you know.” He paused as I pulled back. “I didn’t mean that to sound as creepy as it came out. I mean…you and your sisters always seem so close. You do everything together. I envy that. I’ve never felt close to anyone. My parents left me the house when they died—they were murdered, you know. Goblins, while they were on a trip. And I sit over there in that house, wondering what it would be like to have friends. To have…someone special in my life.”

  Frowning, my tears fading, I looked at his hands. They were a gentleman’s hands—no blisters or sign of hard work. And yet, he had a simple air about him. “What do you do? I didn’t know you lived alone there.”

  “Well, I have my servants, but I don’t want for much. My lifestyle is simple. As for what I do…I am a gentleman farmer. I do nothing except oversee others.”

  He sounded so forlorn that I wanted to make him smile.

  “Farming is important, and somebody needs to run the show.”

  “Run the show?” He cocked his head, looking puzzled.

  “A saying my mother used to use—never mind.”

  “Earthside saying, I suppose?” But he didn’t sneer when he said it. In fact, he smiled. “I wish I could have met your mother. She must have been a courageous woman, to leave her home and travel so far away to be with the man she loved.”

  “You know the story, then?” I searched his face for any contempt, but there was nothing there. No sarcasm, no snarky asshole attitude.

  “Yes, I know the story.” He stood, then, and held out his hand. “Miss Menolly, it’s a lovely afternoon. You shouldn’t hide here in the garden, feeling so sad. Please, if you like, I would be happy to escort you on a walk. I have lovely rose gardens. Would you like to see them?”

  And suddenly, a walking tour to look at roses seemed like the most perfect thing in the world.

  Camille shrugged. “Then go on your date and enjoy it. We’
ll be fine here. Just make certain you go through your wardrobe after you come home, please. We really do need to trade out the summer clothing for autumn and tomorrow we’ll have everything in place to take care of it. And tell Keris hello for us. Ask him to dinner next Wednesday, if you like.”

  I frowned. “I don’t know if Father would like that.”

  Delilah let out a snort. “Father never thinks any man is good enough if he hasn’t had a hand in setting up the introductions, but he’ll be civil. Bring him to dinner. It helps to liven things up, especially since Camille won’t bring her new beau.” She laughed as Camille turned away. “When are you going to tell us what’s wrong with him?”

  “Nothing’s wrong.” Camille bristled, then let out a long sigh. “I just know…it’s not so simple. All right? Leave it for now, at least until we’re done with the seasonal switchover. There are too many things that I have to do in order to prepare for the autumn and winter seasons. The last thing I need to do is have Father on my back about my new boyfriend.”

  With that, she nodded to the baskets by the door. “Finish eating and then we go berry picking. The sun is rising and we don’t have the time today to laze away the hours.”

  And so we finished breakfast and—as the maid removed our plates from the table—headed out to the berry patches to gather the last harvest of the season.

  In ransacking my wardrobe to put away summer clothing, I had found the perfect outfit for dinner and dancing. Keris had warned me it was fancy, so I chose a pale green silk that I had worn on my Age-Up day. The material had come from halls of Ferial in Ceredream, the primary cultivator of silkworms, and the dress was a billowing cloud of long skirts that swept out from a fitted bodice. As I looked through my jewelry, I realized nothing matched. I had worn the symbolic emerald on Age Up day but that was to be worn once in a life time and would be cremated with me when I passed to the Land of the Silver Falls.