WARNING: MA 18 Contains adult sexual material.
The walk over from Trinity cleared my head. I still have no idea what I am going to do but I have decided I am fine with that. Life…sometimes a twister changes things forever and sometimes it is a dragon. Just what-the-fuck, is all that I have at this point. What does my heart and my mind say? They both say “Life is about taking a chance. Trusting someone is about taking a chance. Loving someone is about taking a chance. Since when,“ I hear my brain laughing, “do you work with a net? Or live your life according to others.”
As I clock-in, I realize that everyone is doing quick time. There is a bus tour, of all things, touring the towers and wanting breakfast. The buffet is set up, and we start with tea and more tea and a splash of coffee.
“Freaking ghost hunters,” Janie hisses as we pass each other in the pantry. “How in the hell did they hear that we had a ghost? Then who agreed to let them trail through and then have breakfast? Our locals are not going to like this. They like their Sunday Brunch quiet,” she stressed.
That was how the day went. Sunday’s were generally busy with brunch, with a lot of champagne corks flying from time to time, but nothing like this! We closed the eatery at three on Sunday. When folks were still there at four, we started turning off lights and running the vacuum so that they would take the hint.
“Please,” was all Eitilt said to me one time when I passed him. “The Rotunda. At five.”
it was time to give my heart a chance. At five, I fixed myself a plate of food and went up stairs. He was sitting with his feet up sipping a whiskey, the candles making the shadows long and silent.
“You must be tired,” he smiled at her. “Not much sleep, much to think about, on your feet all day. But we got it all done. There was a moment or two,” he grinned, “when I just thought about carrying a whole pig out, turning to dragon, hitting it with my flame and calling it done. Tour bus,” he chuckled and shook his head. “At times I think the villagers really do want that show. Just let the magic speak for itself.”
“I think they would have gladly paid double,” she smiled at him, “for that floor show. I know I would.”
Patting a spot next to him on the love seat, his voice was soft and husky when he said, “Come sit over here with me and let me rub your feet. And perhaps, if I please you doing that, you will trust me enough to please you doing something else.”
“You are something,” she set her plate of food down and walked over to him. “I thought about you last night after you left, dreamed about you, fantasies about you first thing when I woke up, fantasies all day…tiny glimpses I would get of you, driving those fantasies, well…you still have that hard-on for me?” she asked.
“Yes,” the air left his mouth in a rush. Putting his feet on the floor, he took her hand and pulled her down. He pushed her skirt up and pulled her panties off. Her legs were straddling his body as she unzipped his pants.
“I have thought about this all day,” she said, leaning in and kissing him. “The adrenalin from thinking about it is what at times kept me going.”
“Good,” he kissed her back. His mouth hungry and ready, as he unfastened her tie and began unbuttoning her shirt, pushing that and her bra from her body. Breaking off the kiss, she pulled his shirt over his head and his mouth kissed her breasts, his hands everywhere.
“Let me just shift things a bit,” he said fixing the pillow behind his back. “Now,” he grasped her buttocks and pulled her in. “Now,” he said again as he pushed up and he felt her heat and wetness. “Now,” he pulled her mouth to his and set the tempo of their joining. Their tongues echoing what their joined bodies were doing.
Good, it was good….so good…aw-w-w-w, so-o-o-o good.
He could feel it, the muscles in her body tensing. Her stiffening. Her neck tilted back, offering those lovely bones to him. His fangs brushed her throat lightly and then he settled for her collarbone. Kissing, chewing, grazing his way across her flesh.
She was clinching him with her vaginal walls tighter and her breathing was coming out in long, low, rasping noises until she was no longer soft and pliable. But fixed and surging just like his dick was inside of her. Her fists were pounding back and forth against his shoulder. He felt her uterine walls contract, grasping him, holding him firm, until she stopped and melted into him and a sob left her. Then another, then he realized she was crying.
“What,” he raised his face to hers. “What is wrong?”
“Nothing, everything, I just did not know it could feel this good. That…that I could be this relaxed. Tears of joy is all,” she kissed his chest, sobbing.
“Oh-h-h, sh-h-h now. M-m-m,” he kissed her throat as he held her close. “Just rest here on me,” he kissed her closed eyes. “Just here,” he felt the familiar short, fast, jerks of his pelvis. “Here now, here, oh darling, what you do to me,” he whispered and then with one last thrust, he wrapped his arms around her and listened to the sounds of her heartbeat as he held her against him. Kissing the tears from her face, he let the night wash over him and the sound of her breathing told him she was asleep.
His home was the center tower. Cradling her in his arms, her carried her to his bed. Once he was in beside her, holding her, he too, fell asleep.
He could taste the dark. It was not yet midnight. He heard the clock strike nine…even earlier than he thought.
“I am hungry,” she sighed, as she turned over and faced him. “I think my plate of food is still…”
“What?” he chuckled, drawn back in mock dismay. “You are speaking to a chef. Eat something that was prepared hours ago and left outside. I am truly affronted.”
“How about eggs and toast?” she smiled.
“Easily accomplished,” he countered. “Our clothes are still outside. I will fetch them and then off to the kitchen for sustenance.”
Carrying their clothes, he followed the stray moon beam that was coming in from his high arched window. It hit her hair and it looked like a yellow star burst resting in his bed. The Heart of the Sun…
In his heart was an aching that he was not familiar with. And a want that held him in its sway. When he had taken her out flying over the ocean, that had sealed his fate. And hers as well. She knew exactly how to mount him. He knew she would not fall off, not matter what he did. Then, in the chair. There had been no hesitation on her part. She knew exactly how to mount him. His desire raged for her! And he would build that flame in her for him.
“Please,” he said, kissing his way up from her feet. “Please,” she wrapped her body around his, “I need this, just this, for this moment, to feel your heat…your heart…please…”
This time when he woke the clock was striking midnight. Three more hours until the bewitching hour. He would ride her again at that time and see what had been dangled before his eyes. Truth or Fiction?
“Food,” she whispered as she rolled over on top of him and with an intense longing, felt him slide into her. With his hands on her ass, neither one lasted long.
With her clothes back on, she felt more like the hard-working student and less like the lover that had been sleeping in his bed. Eitilt had already slipped downstairs to the kitchen. There was nothing more for her to do except now join him.
“You,” he looked up and smiled at her, “are responsible for the toast. There are baguettes in fridge marked for bread pudding, that will do.”
It was warm and comfortable in the kitchen. For such a big space, it had a cheery atmosphere.
“I like the walk-in fireplace,” she remarked as she stopped and tossed another log in.
“Original to the building,” he replied as he squeezed lemon into the hollandaise. “Stir the orange marmalade and how do you like your eggs?”
“Over easy,” came her sure reply as she put the bread into the toaster.
“The white asparagus is el dente, the eggs are just about ready and there goes the toaster. Perfect, breakfast is served.”
It turned out that there was a left over bottle of champagne from brunch and that made its way into her glass. With her last piece of asparagus she was wiping up the hollandaise and with pure decadence, she rolled the little bit around in her mouth to suck off the last of the lemon, then chewed and swallowed.
“I like a woman who enjoys her food,” Eitilt was serious. “I like her even better when she enjoys my food.”
“Delicious,” she sighed and patted her tummy. “Every bite worth waiting for.”
“More champagne?” he grinned.
“Just a bit…” she stopped herself and smiled at him. “This is lovely, really,” she laid her hand on top of his. “But eventually I am going to need to get home. I don’t have class until after lunch but I owe the college some research time. I always try to get that done the first of the week so I don’t have it hanging over my head.”
“Very responsible,” he nodded. “I like that. What I like even more,” his hand flipped over and was now holding hers, “is waking and finding you in my bed. I will be up at four thirty. Let us go back to bed. When the alarm goes off I will see you home. You could even sleep a bit more before you give Trinity their due.
And in all honesty, I want to be inside of you at the bewitching hour. At that time I might be able to ascertain if you have been spelled or not.”
“Now, that sounds like a come-on line,” she laughed as she took a sip of bubbly.
“Yes, as in-come on back to bed,” he grinned as he stood, picked her up and they were up the stairs.
The bed and their bodies, beckoned. Passion flared. Desire was tasted by both.
“Please, Eitilt, please, all of you…please…” her voice was soft and urgent.
“No,” he kissed the back of her neck. “No, not yet, not tonight, but soon,” he rasped out against her neck.
The bell was tolling the bewitching hour. “Short, short, short, puu-u-ush,” he whispered to her as his body enacted the words.
“Please,” was all she could whimper until he had her screaming, “Eitilt, please…!”
He was immersed in the soft smell of woman. He was embraced by the soft flesh of woman. Maybe he was dreaming. Dragons did dream when they wore the human. He would dream about every hundred years or so. There had been once or twice he had laid down as human and something…something would happen in the dream and he would wake up as dragon. He never remembered what it was that had caused him to shift. He just knew he had dreamed and woke up very satisfied.
Like he had now. He never fell asleep after sex. And he never allowed anyone to stay in his bed and he never stayed in theirs. And yet there she was, her body warm and yummy and he wanted to absorb her like a sponge. Take whatever she could spare and flood himself with it, smooth out his edges. This was as good as blood and sunshine on his skin.
His granny told him that the dragon race memory lived on in their blood. That was why dragons, dreamed, or did not dream. He smiled as she wiggled in closer to him. There was a shadow of a memory that tugged at him and he could not find it, but he knew there was something in his dragon bones that liked the something in her human ones. Whatever that was, it was old, and reached so far back into time that he could not find it.
Yes, she would be his mate and he would trust her as he did no other. Trust her with his body and with his soul. That made no sense. He decided that it did not need too. He was dreaming. All would be clear when he woke.
Bee Bee heard the alarm and rolled over. “Damn that feels good in a oh-so,” she paused, “used,” she stretched, again, “sort of way and very decadent,” she said as she kissed him.
“Sore?” he smiled at her and kissed her on the nose.
“A bit,” she wiggled around in the covers, gave out another low moan of satisfaction and then wiggled a bit more, looking very pleased, herself. “I feel…yummy,” she sighed.
“Please stay,” his face snuggled into her chest. His lips, latching onto a nipple while she gasped and then wrapped her body around his.
“Not long,” was all he moaned as he mounted her. “This will not take long at all. But I need this. I need to lose myself inside of you.”
Eitilt had a business to run so he was up and moving. She was snuggled in and keeping warm. This was good. There went her lover. In her mind, she could call him that. She was not sure if she should say it to his face. Before tonight, she had not cared much for sex. Had been serious enough about a couple of guys to sleep with them. But what she thought sex was supposed to feel like and what it actually was, had been lacking.
Sex with Eitilt…well yes…it was like he absorbed all of her nervous energy and when he released it back into her body, it had slowed down and flooded each part of her. That maybe she had lost a revolution, somewhere. She listened to him shower then shave. Then she watched him dress. “Did I pass? I forgot to ask? Am I spelled?”
“Have not the faintest idea,” he grinned. “I thought for sure having sex with you as a dragon would let me see past anything that had been cast around you. Not one thing popped up. Well,” his grin got bigger, “one something popped up.”
“That…” she stumbled around for a moment. “When you were dragon, that was just the head, right?”
“Yes,” he came over to the bed and sat down and kissed her. “I kept the rest of it sheathed. Far too big for you my darling this early in. Later, when you are more familiar with me. I would not want to hurt you. When I am dragon, we will go very slowly with penetration. Besides, the head is the most sensitive. Me there pressing against you. You felt exquisite. Go back to sleep,” he said kissing her again. “When the sun comes through the window it will wake you. See those stairs. Take those all the way down. You will come out on Lower SaltHill. Push on the door and it will open. You are just a short stroll then from campus.
“I know that work and pleasure…” her hand stroked his face.
“No,” he kissed her again. “And yes. I want to sit with you in my lap and feed your breakfast. But something here.” He indicated downstairs with his head, “Is still not right. And I trust no one in this regard. So none here can know. You are scheduled to work again Wednesday? Correct?”
“I will see you then. Kiss me. Deeper,” he moaned as her mouth took his. Then she took everything else he had to offer.
Breakfast with its abundance of tea was delightful. Lunch was light and lazy. Dinner was a bit more dark and dangerous. Eitilt thought nothing of the staff coming and going. He thought much about the staff coming and staying.
“Marcus,” Eitilt stuck his head in the freezer. “What are you still doing here?”
“On my to-do list was a note saying it was time to inventory. Stock room and the freezer and clean out anything more than two weeks old. Holidays are coming. We need the space. I am just about done.”
“Most good, then,” he smiled at his oldest employee. “Carry on.”
“I wonder if we need more apples? I should check the walk-in,” he muttered as he walked down the hall. “Jorja, what is lacking?” he asked as he stepped in and saw that she was doing inventory as well.
“More cream, other than that, I think we are to the good.”
“Well, Marcus is finishing up in the freezer. You do like wise and go home.”
“Will do. With the holidays coming, he is shifting things around. We need the room for our ice sculptures. I’ll check his stock list and re-order whatever he has to throw away.”
“Excellent,” he replied as he went to lock the bar for the night.
Monday night he sat at his desk, sorting through mail, orders, reservations. Whenever the fae started clocking in Tuesday morning, it would be time for them to update their files. War was coming. He would do his best to make sure that all of his, returned. But one never knew. The fae crew that worked here with him had been with him since the first war he had fought. All manner of fae had gathered under his banner when Raven’s Peak had fallen. Crozer’s Canyon…what a nightmare. He had forbidden his troops to follow him and himself and Jorja had routed Princess Radah and her soldiers. Jorja protecting his rear so that he could move forward, no matter what they thought to throw at him.
He had no proof that having Mer’lyn’s jewels would make any difference. But, in his heart, he knew they would. Therefore, he needed the jewelry. Therefore, Bee Bee…but she was so much more than the keeper of the treasure…she…was what? He did not believe in coincidence. What was the little Yank doing with the family jewels and his family jewels? Very convenient for both to show up right before a war. Just to come walking in the door with those things that were shrouded in myth and mystery and perhaps did they even exist at all? Those were dragons’ teeth. The center jewel was what he had always thought it would look like. “Fuck me,” he shook his head, “so who really is behind this? Fate or Father? I of course, want to believe in Fate, but it reeks of Father. Both can kill you when they see the need, though.
Fucking self-reflection,” he muttered, running his hands through his hair. “I care for her, achingly so. Maybe I told her about myself because I want someone to care about me. Or maybe to know that my life has not been in vain and that I know she will live well because of me. Or maybe,” he sighed, “she is just the one. The love of my life. My soul mate. Or maybe,” he smiled, “I just like the way she moans my name. Does not matter. I will bed her until I am called to-arms and she shall live a full and well-educated life because I am believing in Fate.”
Tuesday was a good day. Jorja had the staff updating files, she told everyone, for tax purposes. The fae wrote letters of resignation with a forwarding address, just in case one did not come back, or disappeared, for whatever reason.
It was getting late in the evening. They were closed. Eitilt checked off the delivery as it was stored in the walk-in.
“I know the hour is late,” Paddy kept apologizing, “but the shipment had not come in from the farm until seven this evening. I know you need it for tomorrow.”
“It is okay Paddy,” he had patted the man on the back. “You have delivered all manner of things to me at all hours. Thank you. Go home to your very late supper. Bring your wife here for dinner. I owe you.”
Waving the lorry driver off, he poured himself a drink and surveyed his very small kingdom. The kitchen was his favorite place in the entire building. The only thing lacking was getting Bee Bee in here and letting her have her merry way with him.
It was relaxing going through recipes and occasionally tossing another log into the fire and having a sip of Jameson whenever he thought about it. It was time to do something a bit different. Bee Bee was from Oklahoma. Where they had things like fried okra. He paused on that thought and looked carefully at the photo. And green friend tomatoes. Now, that was something not so far off their menu. They had done green fried tomatoes.
“Eitilt,” Jorja called out as she walked past the kitchen door.
“Just looking at recipes,” he looked up at her. “Nothing serious. Come on in if you wish.”
“I think it is time to update the ladies loo,” she said. “It has been five years. Time for a remake.”
“Good, should probably do the men’s as well,” he added as he pushed back.
“I’ll call in the morning and see who is available to work nights. They can start on the back bathrooms and then move on out to the front.”
“Most excellent,” he smiled at her.
“You worried about the war?” she asked sitting down with her drink.
“No,” he shook his head. “Not at all.”
“You think there is going to be a new regime?”
“Probably,” he responded. “They can have twelve new ones, one for each month, for all I care. The holidays are coming and we are all ready starting to book. My Yuletide cherry wine will be drinkable by then. I think the honey ale is going to be nice and hoppy.”
“I haven’t seen Bee Bee? You fire her?”
“No,” he looked up. “Why was she suppose to work, today?”
“Oh, it is Tuesday,” she sighed. “I am off by a day,” she laughed at herself. Then became serious. “You think she has been spelled?”
“I have no answer for that, yet?” he sat back and regarded her. “Why, do you?”
Shrugging she said nothing.
“What’s up?” he put his pen down. “I have never known you to worry about a war or a human.”
“I worry about someone getting close to us this close to a war. Spies and all that. Especially a spelled human, on whatever magic is driving this. Who knows whom she could be working for. What they might throw at us. Or what she could poison while she treads here.”
“Jorja,” he regarded her. “Seriously? Do you think I am not aware?”
“I know you are, I just worry,” she said smiling at him then leaning in and giving him a kiss on the check. “We have been through a lot, together. I would like to see us continue.”
“That’s better,” he grinned at her.
“Eitilt, “ she became thoughtful, “if you could be king, would you?” she asked.
“No,” he laughed out loud. “Ruling is for those who have nothing better to do with their lives. Politicians,” he snorted. “They cannot know the joy that I do of doing the best that I can by my people every day. Sipping your own beer. Pouring a glass of your own vintage. Cutting fresh herbs from your garden.”
“Politicians, they are,” she grinned at him and brushed her hand against his face, “pukin’ cowards poured over rice puddin’.”
“I see you have adopted the family motto,” he smiled at her.
“Well yes, it feels like I have been hearing you say that since time began.”
“And yes you have, my dear,” he raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. “It is just that I never drop the g at the end of puking and pudding. That,” he gripped her harder, “would be my father.
Jorja,” he sighed. “My father, really?”
Staring back at him were dragon eyes on the hunt!
“He is going to rule with Rowan, Eitilt, truly. As his lover, I shall be there by his side. You should have died ages ago, along with the words honor and duty,” she said softly. “It has been a pleasure working with you. I learned much.
But you did not want to rule and I do…and there is nothing left to learn and you are dead. I poisoned the Jameson.”
“Jorja,” he felt the tears but managed a smile instead. “Which bottle? This one on the table, that reeks of pink heather or the flask I pour from that I keep in my pocket?”
“What?” she drew back and his hold now crushed her arm.
“You were sloppy. You and Father should not have had your tryst outside of Trudy’s. That I truly do not care about, however the lie you told me that no one had passed by,” rolling his eyes, he sadly shook his head. “That could all be circumstantial. I get it, the joy of getting one over on me. I do understand that.
But then, what was the rush in having Marcus do the inventory in the stock room and the freezer? That he started it, yes. That he spent all day doing it, no. We respect our employees. Especially the humans, they cannot keep up with us. That sixty-five year old man was here fourteen hours. About six of those hours were working in the cold.
I became suspicious and looked. Yes, everything so neat and organized so you could store your dried acquisitions and frozen ones as well. My father and his love for the small frozen fae,” his voice was quiet and deadly. “The thumb-bellas are our friends. You are just barbarians. But not more than I. Your drink, the Devil’s Breath,” he indicated with a nod of his head to her mixed libation. “I put the Liqueur of Pansy into the Campari bitters. That way there is no taste and no smell to give it away.”
“Liqueur of Pansy,” she hissed. “That is illegal to have in your possession! It keeps…no-o-o, Eitilt, please no,” you could see the strain on her body to shift and then the fear. “I cannot shift. No. Let me die as dragon…”
“No,” was all he said.
“Dragons every where curse you,” she spit at him. “I curse you.”
“Yes,” he nodded in agreement. “And rightly so. The Pansy is insidious,” he grinned at her. “Have your forgotten that about me as well? How many times I have told you to trust no one.”
“But you have always trusted me,” she glared at him.
“Apparently not,” came his calm reply.
“You would condemn me to human throughout eternity? Me?” The angry tears fell.
“Especially you,” he said as he shifted to dragon and snapped her neck at the base of her spine with a sharp downward thrust of his chin. With quiet acceptance, he dragged her body over to the fireplace and tossed her in. With a great fiery breath, he turned her to ash.
“Puking traitors poured over rice pudding,” he mumbled as he shifted back. There was no blood, good. Now he had to go through the paper work and pull Jorja’s saying she had moved on. Cut her last check, etc. “Well, the old man will not be coming back around, not for a while. Eventually he will miss her and come looking,” he said to no one. “On the other hand, Wednesday is coming back around. It will be good to see Bee Bee.
Fuck it,” he muttered. “I am not waiting until Wednesday.”