She managed a nod. It was such an intimate, intense feeling she almost feared she would fly apart. Clinging to his shoulders, she kissed his sweat-dampened skin. He nuzzled her cheek, increasing his pace, rubbing her in all the right ways.
“Come for me, my sweet Vielle,” he whispered, lips nipping at the side of her throat. “Fly for me. I need to feel you flying beneath me . . . come!”
With a whimper, she tensed and shattered in pleasure. Kiers thrust harder, faster, pursuing his own moment of bliss. Coming down from the crux of it, Vielle found herself cooing soft endearments, stroking his skin in gentle caresses.
An accidental scrape of one nail made him shudder. Curious, she scratched again. He swore and thrust hard and deep. That felt surprisingly good, so she did it again, dragging her nails down his back. Choking, he pressed in hard and bucked. A strange, warm tickling deep inside her body accompanied the flushing of his cheeks. Vee realized belatedly he had reached his own crux. She blushed as well.
Pressed deep inside her, he caught her face in his hands and kissed her deeply over and over. Gradually, those kisses eased, until he was merely brushing his lips lightly against hers. “Beautiful, beautiful Vielle,” he finally sighed. Forehead resting against hers, he smiled slowly. “Beautiful, passionate Vee. I trust you liked all of that?”
“Most of it,” she agreed. “I’ll be happy to do without the achy bits when we get around to this again.”
“Mm, yes,” Kiers murmured, kissing her brow. He pushed up a little giving her more room to breathe. “Speaking of which, would you like to go again? Or wait until after luncheon?”
“Hmm . . . I am a bit peckish,” Vee admitted—and pulled him back down, peppering his cheeks and chin with kisses. Her attack provoked a laugh from him, which made her giggle in turn.
Pecking her back, Kiers grinned. “Naughty, you.”
A contented sigh escaped him. His feet were awkwardly braced on the floor and her legs dangled off the edge, now that they weren’t clasped around his hips, and he was feeling a bit hungry for food . . . but he also felt incredibly good.
“So. We stay here for the full week, just in case the broadcasted retreat of my father’s guards was a ruse, yes?” he asked.
“Yes,” Vee agreed, looping her arms around his neck. “To give them time to go away—for one reason or another—and give ourselves time to relax. Nobody but Mister Horgen knows that we’re here, after all.”
“Well, to relax, and experiment with that gun-gizmo thingy, and make love, and figure out the puzzling powers of the ancients, and . . . and get ready for the whole world to change,” Kiers murmured as one of their stomachs grumbled. He blushed, unsure if it was his or not, and met her smirk with a sheepish smile. “I think we’ve been overruled by fate itself on what comes next. But while we wait, care to teach me more of that mysterious, exotic skill known as cooking?”
She chuckled. “I think that could be arranged, yes. And after we’ve cleaned up ourselves and all that bathwater you made us spill, you could also teach me more of the mysterious skill known as lovemaking,” Vee added. “But we really should clean up first. It wouldn’t be polite to leave behind a set of warped floorboards in our kindly hunter’s cabin.”
“That, it would not,” he agreed. Rising, he offered her his hand, and kissed her fingers when she clasped it. “I sincerely hope this week will not be the sole extent of our liaisons, Miss Vielle.”
She considered that as he assisted her to her feet. “I think they could definitely continue. If you could bring yourself to call me Vee, instead of Miss Vielle.”
“Of course, Miss Vee,” he teased—and laughed as she mock-whapped him. “Vee! Vee! Just Vee!”
“Good man,” she praised, embracing him. “Thank you, Kiers.”
“You’re most welcome, Vee,” he murmured, hugging her back. Then he scooped her off her feet, making her squeak with surprise. “One more shared, hot bath, coming up!”
“Kiers!” she protested.
“Well, if we’re going to clean up a mess made from lovemaking, we might as well make it a thorough one, right?” he offered mischievously. “Those poor, wet floorboards won’t know what hit them, will they?”
“No, they won’t, the poor things,” she agreed, blushing. Looping her arms around his neck, she let him carry her downstairs. It made for a very nice change from her carrying him everywhere, whenever they flew.
No Surprise More Magical
by
Hanna Martine
Dedication
To my real high school creative writing teacher,
Mr. Harris, whose wonderful assignments
first showed my imagination what it could create.
I wish you’d been given the chance to affect more students.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Full credit for Dante Jenga must go to Dawn
and Brian Chatham. I hope I honored the fat cat’s memory.
I must thank the Chicago-North chapter of the Romance Writers of America for giving honest, helpful critiques that helped me shape the opening pages.
I also had seven wonderful beta readers: Erica O’Rourke, Eliza Evans, Clara Kensie, Lynne Hartzer, Sarah Shulman, Sonali Dev, and Ann-Marie Bauer. My love and thanks to you all.
CHAPTER ONE
David had returned to the land of the living. Sort of.
He bled from a throbbing knot on his temple. The laceration across his chest burned and wept red. The paper on the exam table crinkled as he shifted, the pain in his body just slightly eclipsing the nerve-racking anticipation over seeing the woman he’d successfully avoided for two months.
After a week spent tracking the Ofarians’ most-wanted fugitive through the wilds of the Sierras, the activity of the clinic jarred. The lights glared too brightly. The buzz and hum of water elemental magic, emanating from his fellow Ofarians scurrying about their work, played havoc with his already woozy brain.
And then there was Dr. Kelsey Evans, opening the door.
She looked far more relaxed than the last time they’d spoken. Less burdened. He’d done the right thing by ending their engagement, even though seeing her now reminded him of what he’d almost had. That loss thrust hard and jagged into his chest.
Still, he smiled, because when it came to her, even with pain spiking through his body, he couldn’t help it. “Hey, Doc. Mind telling me why I’m here and not at your mom’s ER?”
“You’re not an emergency.” She entered but left the door wide open. “And I want to try a new treatment on you.”
“Always wanted to be a guinea pig. Do I get to run around in one of those huge plastic balls?”
Great stars, he lived to make her smile. So rare. Always beautiful.
In sophomore year health class, he’d dressed up the two room skeletons in awful 1970s clothing and posed them doing it in front of the blackboard. He’d amassed a long detention schedule for that stunt, but when he’d first seen Kelsey’s small smile shining out from the front row—on the face of the bookish girl who’d always been the most reluctant to lighten up—he’d been instantly hooked. Now, more than a decade later, he craved it like water.
Kelsey smoothed her bright hair, the color of a brand-new penny, into her trademark ponytail. Not sparing him a glance, she went right to the sink to wash up.
In his dreams, he got to see her without her ever-present white coat. In his dreams, he slid out the rubber band at her nape and let that hair brush her shoulders. In his dreams, they kissed and touched, and not because a bunch of old people had told them to marry and breed.