Must Be Magic Page 3

  She wanted Myghal badly. So badly that her nipples burned and her skin prickled where he touched. She had been slightly aroused since bumping into him the first time. The sexual feelings had heated to a slow simmer when he’d cleaned the smudge from her chin. Now, it bubbled through her, causing her to dampen her panties and her clit to pulse with an intense ache she hadn’t experienced in a long time, if ever, and never this quickly. If she didn’t do something, she would regret it for the rest of her life.

  Kerry took a chance. She kissed him.

  * * * * *

  Tredje directed Gomit to stay with the Gnome statues. Gomit didn’t object, just as Tredje suspected he wouldn’t. In battle, Gnomes couldn’t be stopped, but outside of full-scale war, they were the laziest of creatures. Taking up underground work after the Realm Wars had ceased, when there was no longer a need for an army of Gnomes, had softened the ugly blighters.

  Turning his attention to the human woman, he’d noted her business wasn’t very busy. Proudly, he’d also noticed a steady stream of human conveyances entering and leaving his castle across the way. That’s what having a Troll reside beneath a bridge did for you! It also helped when the Troll stole the plans for a Leprechaun contest and stuffed them beneath your door. The contest would have brought in too many humans. He and the Gnome wouldn’t have had the chance to capture the woman.

  But back to the matter at hand. Aside from the Pixie—and Gomit and himself, of course—Tredje had yet to see another living soul enter the front gate this day. Not that the Pixie had entered by traditional human means. He’d popped into this dimension right behind where the woman stood after tacking a new sign across the old.

  So, Tredje didn’t try to conceal himself as he scurried across the loose gravel toward the building the Prince and his intended Princess had entered. He did try to make as little noise as possible as he neared the transparent wall. The greenhouse was full of potted plants that fortunately obscured the outside view from the inside. Unfortunately, they obscured the inside view from the outside as well. Tredje couldn’t see a thing.

  He motioned for Gomit to join him. But either the Gnome was taking his statue act too seriously or he’d fallen asleep standing up. Tredje waved his arm in ever-widening arcs until Gomit finally saw him. Gomit trudged across the space between them, huffing for breath as he joined Tredje.

  “We have to lure the woman out here somehow…” Tredje tapped his bearded chin as he looked around for inspiration. He espied the little hut in the back. The woman had gone to it to put up her tools earlier. Tredje had seen her flip the little switch that gave humans illumination, but no light had come on. And there was no window in the building. The perfect spot.

  He poked Gomit. “There. That little hut. If we make some kind of noise out by the hut, she’ll come running to see what it is. We’ll trap her inside and tie her up. Then as soon as everything is quiet, we’ll carry her to me bridge.”

  Gomit remained quiet, as he should, and Tredje grinned broadly. There was never anything wrong with a Troll’s plans.

  Then Gomit opened his mouth. “If we make a noise loud enough to bring the woman, won’t the Pixie come, too?”

  Tredje’s grin turned to a snarl. Leave it to a Gnome to spoil a perfect Troll plan.

  Tredje tapped his chin again. “We’ll have to wait until the woman comes out to close for the night. She always inspects the grounds before leaving. We’ll make a quieter noise, one she can hear but the Pixie can’t. When she enters the hut to see what it is, we’ll grab her then.”

  “But what if the Pixie comes with the woman to inspect the grounds before they leave?” Gomit whined, wringing his hands.

  Tredje was ready with an answer. He poked Gomit in the chest. “In that case, Gnome, you’ll have the privilege of creating a diversion to get the Pixie out of the way.”

  Chapter Five

  Myghal was taken by pleasant surprise when Kerry pressed her lips to his. He knew she found him a curiosity, but she hadn’t seemed particularly attracted to him until this moment. He had begun to think he’d ruined everything by not reciting the entire incantation, and that the dust had landed him with Kerry at random. But as she deepened the kiss, sliding her lips over his, slipping her arm around his neck, he knew she was his perfect match, the other half of his heart. He could feel it the same way he could sense what the plants wanted.

  His cock thought so, too—a painful, throbbing reminder that he’d been imprisoned at Castle Faer for two moons without female companionship of any kind. By the time Malthe and Sirrin had rescued him, even the female Faerie guards were starting to look good.

  How would it be with Kerry? he wondered. Need always drove him. The physical need he had no control over, and the emotional need was just as uncontrollable but impossible to slake. While he always found physical release, he’d never found an emotional connection with any Pixie female he’d fucked. Would it be different with Kerry? Pixie lore said that coupling with the other half of his heart would be an experience like no other.

  If this melding of lips and mingling of breaths were indications, then he didn’t need to worry at all.

  Kerry’s other hand slid down his chest, brushing his nipple, and his sac tightened. He knelt, fitting himself between her legs, and rested his hands on her thighs. She drew in a deep, sudden breath.

  Myghal pushed his tongue between her parted lips as his hands glided up her thighs. His thumbs met where the seams of the material came together and were sewn into a thick bump. He pressed in, rubbing in circles, and Kerry moaned into his mouth, her lips trembling against his. He continued the pressure and the circles until her hips thrust back and forth, rocking her clit into his thumbs in a constant rhythm.

  He felt the tension build in her, felt her excitement escalate. Her breathing deepened and her lips went lax. She laid her head on his shoulder and put both arms around him. She was nearing her peak and he wanted to join her, to peel the jeans from her long legs and drive his cock into her hot wetness.

  He shook and his knees grew weak at the mental image of fucking Kerry, but he managed to restrain himself. Kerry needed this as a gradual acceptance of their intimacy. If he tried to do more, the interruption might make her think twice about letting a stranger touch her like this, and she might refuse any further closeness. Without physical intimacy, he had little chance of convincing Kerry to travel to another dimension and marry him.

  When her rhythm increased and little noises escaped her throat, Myghal knew it was almost time. He gentled the pressure of his thumbs, making her move into him harder. With only a few more strokes, her hips bucked and he felt her hands fist in the material of his tunic. She moaned, one long, low vibration that sounded like the sweetest music he’d ever heard and almost did him in, then her body went limp against him. He removed one hand and put his arm around her, caressing the long hank of hair down her back while his other thumb continued to massage the tender spot.

  Gradually, her hands released his tunic, but she didn’t move from his embrace. After a few moments, she cleared her throat.

  “I-I’m sorry, I don’t know what—”

  “Shhh, don’t be sorry,” he said soothingly. “I only wanted to make you feel good.”

  She laughed, but it was a small sound and almost ended on a sob. She did pull away from him, then, wiping her eyes, but not meeting his. “It did feel good, Myghal. But I don’t know why I let you do that. Especially here, in the middle of the day. Oh, my God, anybody could have walked in.”

  “But they didn’t,” he said and brushed strands of hair from her face. He placed a finger under her chin, compelling her to look at him. Her blue eyes were luminous with tears and her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He was relieved to find no regret in her warm gaze.

  She drew away from his touch and stood, a hand on her desk until she was steady. He was still kneeling and his face was now in an interesting location. If she were naked, he could have buried his tongue in her pussy easily. She seemed to sudden
ly become aware of this and her eyes grew wide. She stepped around and away from him.

  He pushed himself to his feet with difficulty. His stiff cock made maneuvering a challenge if he didn’t want to hurt himself. His weakened knees threatened to buckle, and, like Kerry, he used the desk for support until he was sure he could stand and walk.

  “I have to go…” She waved in the general direction of the restroom. “I—” Then she kissed him, quickly, but with meaning. “I owe you one.”

  Then she was gone. He was almost in pain from the hard-on, but he grinned. He had Kerry’s promise to take care of that problem. He just didn’t know when.

  Chapter Six

  Out of embarrassment, Kerry spent the rest of the day putting as much distance between Myghal and herself as she could. He seemed to understand because he spent most of the afternoon outside, rearranging the plants out there. Every once in a while he caught her watching him, but he only smiled that incredibly sexy smile, all-knowing but not arrogant, as if they shared a secret no one else in the world could share.

  She supposed that was true. No one else could know about what he’d done to her that afternoon in her office chair, that he’d given her the most intense orgasm she’d ever felt. Or perhaps it just seemed that way because it was him. Didn’t sex seem better when it was with someone you felt an incredible connection to?

  Not if you’d just met that someone a few hours ago.

  But she had just met Myghal that morning, and she did feel an inexplicable connection to him, as if he were the missing piece in the jigsaw puzzle she called life.

  All afternoon, she tried to reason with herself. She didn’t really believe in love at first sight. That worked in old movies, fairy-tales, and romance novels, not in the real world. In the real world, there was so much to consider—backgrounds, religion, whether children were wanted, and a million other things she couldn’t think of off-hand. Properly taking the time to get to know one another would reveal them.

  Then she would look at Myghal and her heart would race. Every rational thought would dissolve in the heat of her desire for him. More than desire was impossible right now, but desire was enough.

  Kerry had put up another sign announcing seventy-five percent off everything and business had picked up. There was a sporadic stream of customers in and out all afternoon and many of them actually bought something. She remained open until long after Sir Plantsalot had closed, hoping to catch people on their way home from work.

  It was well past sunset and there hadn’t been a customer for half an hour when she decided to call it a night. She asked Myghal to make sure all the lights were off in the front building and the greenhouse while she made sure everything was secured outside. When she finished, they could leave.

  As she covered the grounds, she thought about Myghal. She hadn’t thought much about anything else except him all day. A customer might distract her for a few moments, but as soon as she saw him across the lot, she would go all tingly and warm. It had been difficult to concentrate on selling plants. And became even more difficult when Kerry got the impression that Myghal expected to go home with her.

  Well, she had practically promised him a hand-job.

  She felt her face heat up in embarrassment…but her body heated up as well. By the size of the bulge in his britches when the tunic lay tight across his lap, she wouldn’t be disappointed. As long as he knew how to use it.

  She suspected he knew how to use it very well.

  Kerry grinned at the prospect of experiencing mind-blowing sex later that night.

  She’d come full circle and was standing in front of the toolshed when she remembered about the blown bulb. The grin faded away. She’d just have to do it tomorrow…in the light of day. So she could see how to screw it in. Yeah, that excuse worked every time.

  She had started up the walkway toward the greenhouse where Myghal waited when she heard the noise. It sounded like a pitiful mewing coming from inside the shed. How could a kitten have gotten in there? She’d only been to the shed twice that day, when she’d changed the signs, and she hadn’t seen a stray cat all day. She hesitated. The shed had its back to the nearest outside light, and she only had a penlight with her. The small beam of light would do little to dispel the darkness within the shed.

  Kerry couldn’t leave the kitten in the shed all night. It was probably cold and hungry. She could call Myghal to help her, but then she’d have to explain why she needed him to get a tiny kitten out of her own shed. Well, chances were, when she opened the door the kitten would run out and streak off into the night. Maybe she didn’t need to get Myghal at all.

  Turning on the penlight, she approached the shed. Her palms were already slick with sweat, even though the night air was chill enough for a heavy jacket. She put her hand on the doorknob, but her fingers just slid around it. She wiped her palm on her jeans and tried again. This time the knob turned.

  She released it and gave the door a little push to open it wide. She waited, but no tiny ball of fluff shot out through the door. Then she heard the mewing again. It came from the back of the shed. The poor thing was probably too frightened to come out.

  “Here, kitty, kitty, kitty,” she called out softly and scratched the jamb, hoping to make an interesting enough noise so the kitten would investigate. “Come on, kitty, kitty, kitty.”

  Still no furball. The mewing sounded again from the farthest corner of the shed. Kerry gripped the penlight tighter. This was ridiculous. It was just a shed full of tools and one tiny kitten. All she had to do was walk to the back, flash the light around until she found the stray, pick it up, and leave. No big deal. Something anybody else could do without a second thought. Why was it making her heart pound and her upper lip break into a cold sweat?

  “I can do this,” she whispered.

  She shone the narrow beam of light into the yawning maw of darkness inside the shed. Her breathing had turned to quick, shallow gasps. If she didn’t get control of herself she would hyperventilate. She concentrated, taking deep breaths through her nose and out her mouth.

  But the longer she stood there thinking about it, the worse it would get. She needed to plunge into the shed and get it over with. She’d just be in there for a few seconds, maybe a minute, and then she could come out into the open where the floodlights gave the night enough brightness that she didn’t feel trapped.

  Kerry drew in a deep breath, clutched the jamb, and put one foot up on the threshold. She waited a moment, but she hadn’t begun to really panic yet, so she brought up her other foot.

  Concentrate on saving the cat. “Come here, kitty, kitty, kitty,” she called again.

  More mewing, but it didn’t seem to have moved away from the far corner.

  Just do it.

  With the beam of the penlight illuminating only a narrow strip of floor ahead of her, she took another deep breath and walked forward. Halfway across the shed, the door slammed shut behind her.

  She stopped and screamed, a short sharp sound that seemed to be swallowed up by the darkness. She swung around, losing her bearings. Sweeping the penlight back and forth, she tried to find something that looked familiar, but panic was seizing her, clawing at her chest and throat. She thought she heard something scuttle to her left and jerked the penlight in that direction. The plastic housing slipped from her sweaty hand, rolling with a frightening clatter across the floor and under the shelving. Pitch blackness closed in on her, pressed into her skin from all sides, and stole the breath from her lungs. When something touched her arm, she dragged in a gulp of air and screamed as long and as loud as she could. The high-pitched sound of terror went on for an eternity.

  Chapter Seven

  The shouting of her name brought Kerry back to her senses. Myghal had somehow managed to get her out of the shed because she had space around her and she had air to breathe. She stopped screaming, although by that time the sound she was making was little more than a hoarse squawk. Her legs gave way and her body crumpled. She didn’t lose consci
ousness, but it was as if every muscle in her body turned to jelly.

  Myghal scooped her up and carried her into the greenhouse. He put her down in the chair at her desk, the one where he’d done such wonderful things to her body that afternoon. Sex seemed to be the last thing on his mind as he hovered over her, his face a frowning mask of worry.

  She reached out and stroked a lock of his long, ash blond hair. “I’m all right now,” she said. The words burned her throat, and she reached for the bottle of water she’d left on the desk at lunch.

  Myghal got it for her, uncapped it and put it to her lips. She drank the few swallows that remained. He set the empty bottle aside and picked up his, letting her drink from it. She swallowed greedily, but wondered what he would think of her when she told him about her irrational fears.

  It mattered a great deal—maybe too much, considering how short a time they’d known each other—what Myghal thought about her.

  “Are you hurt?” he asked, his voice thick with concern. “Do you need something? More water? Should I find a healer?”

  She shook her head, happy to be able to breathe normally. She should have known better than to go into that dark shed alone with only a feeble penlight to relieve the crushing blackness.

  “I’m fine now,” she assured him and sat up straight. Her muscles and bones no longer felt as unstable as gelatin.

  “Are you sure?” Myghal held her hands in his. His touch was comforting. “Was someone out there?”

  She shook her head again. “It’s my own fault. I have claustrophobia. If I’m in a dark, enclosed place, I panic.”

  She stopped, waiting for him to laugh or look relieved that it was nothing more serious or drop her hands as if she were a silly person wasting his time. Different people had done all those things and more over the years. But Myghal didn’t laugh, look relieved, or drop her hands. He waited patiently for her to continue.

  “I shouldn’t have gone into the shed knowing the bulb was blown.”