Froggy Style (19 page)

“G
oing somewhere?” I flicked on the lamp next to the couch, and the hotel suite burst to light. Lollie froze, hand on the doorknob. Anger flashed in her eyes, but her face remained impassive, cold. “Oh, I didn’t see you there,” she said with a hard smile. “Sitting in the dark. Like some creepy pervert.”

I motioned to the drink in front of me. “Care to join me?”

Her eyes darted between the doorknob and me, as if gauging the distance. Finally, she nodded and released the knob. She crossed the room and poured herself a glass of something amber in color, much like the color of her eyes in the moonlight. She raised the drink in salute. “So what are we drinking to?”

I picked up my own drink and twirled it in my fingers. The warm liquid lapped at the sides of the glass. “How about we drink to ever after? The not-so-happy kind.” The kind of happily-ever-after where you develop a craving for flies and licking your own butt.

Lollie gave a little laugh, but didn’t drink. “What’s going on in your very small mind, Kermit?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest. A chest covered in one of my oxford button-down shirts that hit her mid-thigh. Various swirls of ink climbed along her tanned legs, disappearing into a pair of soot-coated combat boots. Tattoos of faraway places and exotic languages. Places and things I would never experience once I was locked away inside my amphibian prison. Anger seethed inside me. Damn her and damn this curse.

Lollie cleared her throat, gaining my attention. “Are you going to say anything, or were you planning to stare at my legs all night?”

As tempting as my continued leering was, I decided to get straight to the point. “You lied to me. Again,” I said, watching her closely for the slightest sign of guilt.

“Did I?” she prompted.

I leapt from the couch, needing to distance myself from Lollie before I did something I’d regret. Something we’d both regret. I paced back and forth until the urge to choke her lessened to an acceptable, princely level. “Sleeping Beauty was at the Rose today.”

“Says who?”

“That.” I motioned to Karl’s GPS device sitting on top of the table. “Machines don’t lie, Lollie. Unlike tattooed girls with ulterior motives.” My lips curved into a hard grin and I resumed my seat on the couch, leaning back as if we were discussing the weather. “So either one of two things happened.”

“Do tell, Kermit.” She raised a singed eyebrow, slammed the rest of her drink, and crossed the room to stand in front of me. “I’m all atwitter with anticipation.”

Heat mixed with anger and pooled in my lower body as I gave her a slow once-over. For a chick who’d nearly died, she looked remarkably beautiful, and calm. Much too calm, to my way of thinking. I decided to give her a little push to see how she’d react.

“The way I see it,” I paused, hating the words pouring from my mouth, “you lied to me yesterday. Spindle is very much a part of your life, so much so that you helped him kidnap Sleeping Beauty.”

“Did I now?”

I nodded. “You used your,” my eyes lowered to her ample breasts, barely contained within my shirt, “assets to distract me from finding and marrying Beauty. But why? Is this all about a ransom of some kind? Or is it something more?”

Her husky laugh sent shivers down my spine. “That’s quite an imagination you’ve got there,” she said, plopping down on the couch next to me. Her hand stroked my thigh and she purred. “So once I distracted you, as you so quaintly put it,” she licked her plump lips, “I what? Blew myself up!” She thwacked me in the inner thigh, narrowly missing my smaller, if not smarter, little frog prince.

“Hey!” I hopped off the couch, avoiding another punch to the bollocks. “What’s your problem?”

“My problem,” she said through clenched teeth, “as you so kindly put it, is you.”

“Me?” My hand flew to my throat. “What’d I do?” I stabbed my finger at her. “You’re the one who used me. I’m the injured party here.”

“You will be when I’m done with you.” She straightened off the cushion, rising to her full height, about four inches shorter than mine. “In case you’ve forgotten, I was the one who almost died today when the Rose, a business I’ve worked my ass off for two years to make a success, exploded with me inside.”

“Um . . .”

Her finger jabbed me in the chest, hard. “And why do you think that is, Kermit?”

This time I had the perfect answer. I slapped my forehead. “Of course.” I nodded. “Your lover is trying to tie up any loose ends.” I grinned. “And you, Ms. Bliss, are looser than most.”

In hind-smack, my words sounded a little rude. But that wasn’t what flashed through my brain when the pain in my smashed nose from her less-than-flat fist receded to a mind-numbing throb. Instead, I grabbed Lollie’s arm, yanking her against me. Her chest heaved in anger, igniting something infinitely more dangerous than my temper.

“Lollie,” I whispered, my gaze locked on her bottom lip and the sheen glistening on it. Said lips parted, and the tip of her pink tongue darted out in welcome. That was the only invitation I needed. My mouth crushed hers, my lips hard and insistent until she yielded to my will. I wasn’t taking no for an answer, not that Lollie planned on stopping my assault. In fact, at one point, her greedy mouth ravished mine like some hero in a Regency romance novel. I feared for my lips, if not my life.

Once Lollie’s teeth drew blood, I pulled away to catch my breath before I lost all control. Her eyes locked on mine, and what I saw inside her gaze scared me to my very toes.

She was the One for me.

W
ithout thinking of the consequences, of Sleeping Beauty, of my greener future, I grabbed Lollie’s hand and pulled her toward my bedroom. Her skin against mine felt right, like we belonged together. But we didn’t. Not truly, I reminded myself, fingering the B-shaped birthmark over my heart. Beauty was my One; if I belonged to anyone, it was her serial-killing self.

We reached the doorway to my bedroom, and Lollie pulled to a stop. “Make me a promise, Kermit,” she said, her fingers sliding down my arm.

I nodded, mostly because, even under the threat of death, forming a coherent response was beyond my non-frog-sized brain. Thoughts of sex did that to a guy, especially when said sex involved a smoking-hot chick on the verge of fulfilling a multitude of fantasies.

“If we do this,” she began.

“Oh, we are doing it.” I grinned. “If you’re lucky we might do it twice.”

“Be still my heart.” Her hands flew to her chest as she let out a peal of laughter. “Where have you been all my life?” Her words acted much like a cold shower as memories of my former lonely froglike existence flashed through my head. My heartbeat slowed and the rush of lust that had blinded me a few moments ago faded. I still wanted Lollie like I’d never wanted another woman. But was I willing to give up the rest of my life for a taste of her?

She seemed to share my hesitancy, if not my dwindling libido. Biting her bottom lip, she took a step back. “I want you, Kermit. I want this.”

“But?”

“No but,” she said, her voice growing stronger. “More of an aside.”

I tilted my head. “An aside? I’m not familiar with that position. Is that from the Fairy Sutra?” I asked, referring to the ancient sex text featuring all sorts of woodland animals in a variety of graphic positions.

“Cute.” She grabbed the collar of my shirt. “But I’m serious. You have to promise me,” she paused, her fingers curling in the fabric, “whatever happens tonight, nothing changes between us. We have tonight. That’s it.”

My eyes narrowed. “What’d you mean?”

“I won’t fall in love with you,” she vowed.

My heart gave a small squeeze, but I ignored the pain. This was just what I needed. A quick pre-wedding affair with no strings attached, I told myself. “Good to know,” I said with a smile.

“I mean it, Kermit.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Tonight will be about sex. Nothing more. Just two people enjoying each other’s bodies. Tomorrow we act as if nothing happened. I won’t be your mistress. I won’t love you.” She swallowed hard. “You’ll stupidly go back to your tired princess, get married, if she doesn’t kill you first, and have a bunch of arrogant, narcoleptic brats.”

“And you, Lollipop? What will you go back to? That bastard Spindle?” I pictured her burned-up tattoo shop, her ash-coated face as I lifted her into my arms, and the lump of terror in my throat when I’d thought I’d lost her. All because of Spindle.

I stepped toward her, taking her in my arms. My head rested on top of hers. We stood together for a few minutes, not speaking as thoughts of tomorrow swirled around us. As right as Lollie felt in my arms, we could never be more than this, a one-night stand. I wanted her body, her mind, her soul. Craved her in a way I’d never craved a woman before. She was beautiful, standing in the hallway, her arms swirls of ink and heat. My mouth went dry at the thought of her body mingling with mine.

Lollie gazed up at me, her eyes dark with questions. I swallowed and nodded. She grinned back, turned off all the lights before taking my hand and leading me the rest of the way to the bed.

From there things grew....

H
arsh desert light spilled through the hotel room window, illuminating the colorful array of purple flowers sprouting over the small of Lollie’s back. Flowers that resembled the ones imprinted on my lumbar region. Damn her, I thought with a satisfied smile. My finger trailed over a particularly sensitive bloom at the base of her spine that disappeared into her backside. Lollie groaned and snuggled deeper into the soft bedding.

I glanced at the bedside clock. Seven
A.M.
One day closer to my birthday. One day closer to a black fly birthday cake. Unless I found Sleeping Beauty, and quick. Yet, lying here, next to Lollie, my impending doom didn’t seem to matter quite so much. It probably had something to do with my complete exhaustion and lack of fluids.

Or not.

Spending the night with Lollie proved to be an adventure of fairytale proportions. We explored each other’s bodies for hours until every curve, nook, and cranny took us over the river and through the woods. And then we slept, arms around each other as we drifted off. Or rather I did. It seemed Ms. Bliss suffered from insomnia, or so she said when I caught her watching me sleep a few hours later. I wasn’t sure if I believed her, but rather than argue, I wrapped my arms around her and did my best to tucker her out.

This morning, exhausted, I leaned against twelve-hundred-dollar pillows, tracing Lollie’s inked flesh with the pad of my thumb. My mind filled with what-ifs. Questions like, what if Sleeping Beauty wasn’t my
One?
What if all this was some sort of mistake and I was truly meant to be with Lollie?

“Don’t be stupid, Johnny,” Elly’s voice squeaked from somewhere on my left. “I’m never wrong.”

I jumped, quickly covering my nakedness from the prying eyes and vicious wand of my godmother. “Damn it, Elly. Can’t you see I’ve got company?” I growled as she suddenly materialized next to the bed in a cloud of sparkling silver fairy dust and toxic gin breath.

Lollie groaned, but didn’t fully wake. A good thing too since Elly was standing over her, her wand poised for damage. Glaring at my godmother, I hissed through clenched teeth. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Is that any way to talk to me? A woman who’s spent her best years protecting you from evil.” She smashed her wand against the back of my head. “Now apologize and get away from that . . . person. We have work to do.”

“Work?” Even on the best of days, the only work Elly ever did was nag me. At times it seemed like more of a full-time career for her.

“Yes, work.” She crossed her arms over her sagging bosom. “Unless we locate your missing bride in the next . . .” She glanced at a freckle on her arm where a Rolex from Tiffany’s I’d bought her for Christmas last year used to sit. A watch she must’ve pawned to pay her latest gambling debt. “Well, soon. You will spend the rest of your days mating with,” her eyes scanned Lollie’s taut body, “prettier, albeit greener females.”

“Hey—” I began.

“Hush your mouth.” Elly swatted me with the pointy end of her wand. “What do you even know about this girl, Johnny? Other than she’s mentally unstable.”

My eyes narrowed. “Why do you say that?”

“She had sex with you, dear boy.” Elly shook her head and snorted. “The girl obviously has issues.”

I sat up, frowning at a black stain on the pad of my thumb, unsure where the smudge had come from. Shaking my head and pulling up my boxers, I said, “Mental health aside, Lollie’s . . .”

“What?”

“I don’t know... She’s . . .”

Thwack. The wand smacked me across the side of my face, and for a few seconds my brain exploded into little silver stars. “Idiot!” Elly hit me on the other cheek for good measure. “You’re in love with her. I can’t leave you alone for two minutes without you . . .” On and on she ranted, but I’d stopped listening. The words “in love” blazed through my head. Was Elly right? Had I stupidly gone and fallen in love with Lollie?

Not possible, I assured myself. I was the Frog Prince, a man too smart to feel any emotion, let alone fall in love. I’d had sex with hundreds of women, women far hotter than Lollie, women skilled in the art of seduction, women who knew how to make a man beg, not that Lollie hadn’t given it a good ole college try.

Lollie and I had great sex. Amazing, if I thought about it, but love? Hell, I barely even liked her. She was sarcastic and crazy. Not to mention she had an assassin for a boyfriend who’d kidnapped my future wife. Plus she lied to me at every opportunity. Love. Ha! I’d be stupid to fall in love with someone like her. Someone who laughed at my jokes. Someone whose eyes lit up when I entered the room. Someone who made me feel . . . not so alone.

I wasn’t in love.

So why did the B-shaped birthmark on my chest ache when I pictured my life without ever seeing her again?