Honey House (25 page)

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Authors: Laura Harner

BOOK: Honey House
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Owen gave me a sexy wink, and in an exaggerated Irish brogue said, “Aye, don’ be tellin’ me ye’ve ne’er heard of the wee folk and our nefarious ability to whisk young maidens away to do our bidding.”

“Not funny, Owen. How did we get here? Or, wait.
Are
we here? Is this some kind of mind game?” I asked. My mind didn’t find anything funny or game-like about the situation, but I knew my brain would struggle to try to make reason out of the existing insanity it was facing.

“KC, look around. Touch anything you like. This is your place. I wouldn’t have chosen to let you find out about me like this, except Quinn was right. This was an emergency and we needed to get you away from there.

“Raymond, Gabrielle, and Stevie will also be long gone before anyone else arrives. Quinn will make it look as though Merkham was trespassing and drew a weapon when confronted. It’s going to be a lot easier to explain a justified police shooting than it would be to explain that an armed civilian killed him. Even if the victim was an obnoxious member of the press.”

Owen stared off into the distance for a minute before continuing. “I’m afraid the story of the werewolves will still need to come out. We’ll need to expose the wolves to explain why Merkham killed Jason and Susan. Otherwise, Quinn would be vulnerable to charges of conspiracy and murder.”

I shook my head, trying to clear away Owen’s comments about the wolves. What I really needed to know right this minute was how I’d arrived at my house.

“Owen!” I shouted.

Owen’s head shot up and he just looked at me for a long moment before he crossed the floor to take me in his arms. Cradled against his chest, I could hear the steady beat of his heart.

“I’m sorry, KC. I was teasing you and then I got distracted. You deserve an answer.” He led us to the couch, and took my hands in his.

“I did answer your question, you know,” he said with a half smile.

“What? The wee folk bit? Right.” I snorted.

“Well not all of us are so very wee. You’ve already accepted that there are things in this world such as werewolves and witches. Is it such a stretch to imagine that the Fae are real, too?”

“Okay, wait.
You’re a fairy?
” I sputtered. I’d been through too much tonight to take any more of his teasing. I’d killed a man. I’d spoken to a wolf. Then my thoughts slowed as I put another piece of the puzzle together.

I’d watched Owen heal a man who should have died.

My gaze flashed upwards to meet his steady gray eyes. “You healed Quinn with some words and your hand.”

“Yes,” he said.

“And then you what? Just thought us here and so we were?” I asked, my voice rising with every impossible word.

“More or less,” he said.

“More or less? What the hell does that mean?” I was trying not to shout, but failing dismally.

“Look, KC, it’s just how we can move, that’s all. It’s like shifting a dimension. Not as complicated as a thought. I’m just one place and then I picture where I want to be next and I am. I don’t use it a whole lot because I’ve chosen to live here as a human. Sometimes, like tonight, it comes in handy. It’s how I was able to get to you, to get to Quinn so quickly.” He shrugged, and looked away for a minute.

When he turned back, his face was impassive, but his voice was gentle. “I need to go get Gregory. Do you want me to come back tonight to answer your questions? Or maybe a little time to process everything would be better?”

“Is Gregory—” I started, but Owen cut me off with a shake of his head.

“No, he’s a powerful witch. That’s enough for him. He knows what I am and he loves me anyway. I wonder…will love ever be enough for you, KC?” Owen softly asked.

“What is that supposed to mean?” I asked, my anger spiking.

Owen stood and pulled me to my feet, before wrapping me in his arms once more. “Nothing. I just don’t want to see you push people away who would love you. I’m sorry, KC. I need to go get Gregory and you need rest after you get cleaned up. This will wait. Gregory and I will be here tomorrow. And KC?”

“Yes,” I answered automatically, my mind already shutting down against the impossibilities Owen was asking me to believe.

“Take the time to think about everything that’s happened. Everything that you’ve learned, everything that you’ve done and seen. It is important. Good night, sweetheart.” He kissed me lightly on top of the head, released me, and then with the lightest of pops, disappeared from the room.

****

Thinking about all that happened leant a nightmarish quality to the memories. Unfortunately, I knew it wasn’t a dream. As soon as Owen had popped out, or whatever it was fairies did, I’d thrown away my torn and bloody clothes, scrubbed until I was raw, and then waited. Waited to feel something for killing a man. Waited to feel shock that fairies existed. Waited for Quinn to come.

Nothing happened. After a while, I’d tried to sleep, but that didn’t happen either. So, I’d read Joanna’s diary, used my laptop to research the Fae, and finally sat on the back patio looking out at the moonlit landscape until dawn blushed the sky.  

Now, I followed my usual routine, putting out fruit and yogurt, bagels and coffee, and generally bustled around the kitchen and dining room, feeling lost. I never heard the door open, but suddenly I knew he was there. I turned and saw Quinn, framed in the light, his sun-kissed hair loose around his shoulders.  

“Katie,” he said, as he moved toward me.

Without any other words, Quinn swept me into his arms and carried me all the way through the House to my bedroom. Once there he held me up against his body, chest-to-chest. His arms wrapped around me, my arms were around his neck, and my feet dangled. Our gazes met, and I knew he was seeing the relief I felt at having him whole and unharmed. I felt the unfamiliar sting of tears and I looked away so he wouldn’t notice.

Damn the man, he noticed anyway. He slid me slowly down the front of his body so that his glorious erection rubbed against my belly as he lowered me to the floor. As soon as my feet were steady, Quinn dropped to his knees and pressed his head to my chest. With his strong arms around me and his silky hair caressing my skin, the enormity of what I’d nearly lost overwhelmed me and I began to cry in earnest.

I couldn’t explain the rush of emotions. Relationships were impossible without both trust and love. My ability to love died when I was three, along with my real family, so I knew I didn’t love Quinn. My ability to trust had died with the rapes when I was only thirteen, and I would never again trust anyone completely.

Maybe that’s what Owen had meant by his cryptic remarks. Even if I allowed myself to feel something for Quinn, I would never lower those shields enough. Maybe my tears were for myself.

“Shh, Katie, everything’s all right. We’re both safe,” he stroked my hair and looked up at me with eyes that were liquid pools of gold. “We can talk later. I need to make love to you,” he said.

I nodded, my throat too tight to speak.

Quinn helped me to fall gently back onto the bed, and kept himself between my legs. He pulled his own clothes off first, so that I could see the perfection of his chest. The soft brown curls brushed like silk over golden velvet skin. There were no wounds, no scars where the bullet had bit into him the night before. Owen’s Fae powers were remarkable.

I sat up, lifted my shirt over my head, and then slid out of my shorts, taking my underwear with them. Quinn’s kiss was as gentle as a butterfly as he lightly brushed his lips against mine. His fingers traced over my mouth, across my jaw line, and over the contours of my cheeks. He cupped my face in his big hands, and I closed my eyes at the sensation.

The questions that plagued me through the night were washed away in a wave of desire. I was drowning in Quinn. My body felt alive, energized, and hungry. God, yes, that was the word…hungry. I was starved for a taste of the man.

Quinn pulled back slightly so he could look at me, which gave me the chance to study him in return. He was so beautiful, his strong face looked regal in the early morning light. The amber eyes were dark with passion, sculpted lips were parted, his full lower lip caught by his teeth. Oh yes, I wanted him and without a doubt, he wanted me, too.   

His thumbs brushed at the remnants of my tears, then he kissed the tip of my nose, each eyelid, my forehead. The rough calluses of his hands were so at odds with the gentleness of his touch.

“Katie,” he said again, his voice a hoarse whisper. Then his mouth began to move. Down my neck, across my collarbone, lower to my breasts. He left a blazing trail of kisses, gentle bites, and velvety licks. His hands moved to cup my breasts, and when his mouth clamped on one nipple, his fingers rolled and pinched the other.

The breath slammed against my lungs, struggling to escape the self-imposed restraint I hadn’t even realized I was holding on to. I’d been treating Quinn as though he was still hurt, as though his near-death experience had weakened him. It hadn’t and I needed him now.

A desperate desire bloomed inside me. There was no room for gentle touches or loving caresses. I wanted to feel…to
know
he was alive. I tangled my fingers into his hair and pulled him harder against my breasts. He caught my new sense of urgency and met my desperation with tongue and teeth.

“Yes,” I moaned, and arched into his touch when he drew my nipple hard into his hot mouth. He pushed my breasts together, his mouth alternating working both nipples, tongue following the cleavage his hands created.

“Oh God,” I whispered. “I need you inside me, right now,” I gasped.

Quinn slid down my body, wrapped his arms around my legs, and draped my calves over his forearms. He muttered, “Not yet. I have to taste you first. You can’t deny a starving man.” Then his tongue slid into my pussy.

My breath escaped in tiny, whimpering gasps as Quinn fucked me with his tongue, slick and hot, in and out. My hips moved against his mouth, and still I needed more. I shuddered, full of desire. Quinn licked me from top to bottom, long, seductive strokes. The tension from the night was melting away under his clever tongue.

“More,” I begged greedily.

With a small laugh, Quinn’s tongue went to work while his fingers glided, pumping, demanding. He brought me to the edge of orgasm, spilling me over, and quickly withdrawing. I wanted to whimper at his abrupt departure, until he flipped me over onto my stomach.

There was no more teasing now. Quinn was as desperate as I was. He guided the broad tip of his cock against my pussy, and then pressed himself inside.

A moan of pure pleasure slipped out at the overwhelming sense of completeness I experienced with Quinn filling me.

“You’re mine, Katie. I carry part of you inside me now, you will never be able to forget me,” his voice a low growl in my ear.

It was a completely barbaric thing to say and it turned me on to feel so possessed in the moment. His cock slid deeper, each inch stretching me, until I felt full and his hips pressed against my ass.

“More,” I mumbled when he slowly withdrew until he was nearly out of me.

Quinn pushed me forward onto my elbows and lifted my hips to give himself the angle he wanted. “Hold on, Katie, I’m going to fuck you now!”

Quinn’s fingers dug into my flesh as he held my hips suspended above the bed, while he slammed into me from behind. I would be bruised from his grip, but I didn’t care. I just wanted more.

“More,” I said again. I couldn’t get enough. I needed affirmation that Quinn was alive, and whole, and here with me.

My back arched as nerve endings I never knew existed screamed to life, and pleasure washed through me. Slow and deliberate strokes gave way to hard and fast thrusts, and it was oh-so-pleasurable when his heavy testicles spanked me as he slammed against my ass.

A heavy feeling began to grow in the pit of my stomach, and those unfinished waves of my first orgasm washed through me and began to build. We both made small grunting noises with the force of each stroke. I knew he was close when he lost his rhythm, but he wasn’t finished with me yet.

Quinn slid a hand down my arm until he reached my hand. He threaded his fingers with mine and brought our clasped hands to his lips. The gentle kiss was a surprisingly sweet gesture. Then he moved us once again, placing our joined hands over my heart.

“Come for me, Katie, love,” he whispered, his chest pressed tight against my back.

I clenched around his cock as his final pounding strokes took me screaming over the edge. He gave two short thrusts and then he was coming with me, spilling his hot seed inside me. He bit down on my neck as hard as the first time we’d made love. I screamed again and knew he’d marked me, but any pain was lost in the waves of pleasure that shot straight to my pussy.

When we collapsed, I thought we might sleep, but the insatiable Quinn had other ideas. He ran his hand lightly over my skin, caressing me from breasts to knees, and asked, “Are you okay, Katie?”

The gesture sent shudders through me, but before I could think why, Quinn scooped me up and carried me to the bathroom. After carefully adjusting the water, he set me inside and then joined me.

We stood together in the shower while I ran my hands over the unblemished skin of his chest. I’d seen the wounds last night. He
had
been shot. Had it really been Owen who had healed Quinn? Did I have something to do with it, as Quinn hinted last night? I realized that at this moment, I didn’t care. I was just grateful he was alive and unhurt.

Quinn was too tall for us to fit well standing up, but when he lifted me and I wrapped my legs around his waist, we fit just right. He slid into me, hard, fast, deep. The water cascaded around us, a warm caress that made his golden skin sparkle. He filled me and then pulled out slowly, before thrusting home again. Each stroke was a slippery slice of heaven.

Quinn’s hand dropped between my thighs and found my clit. And with a few strokes of his thumb and thrusts of his cock we orgasmed again, crashing together, shuddering hard beneath the warm spray.

Finally sated, for a while at least, Quinn once again carried me back to the bed and lay down naked beside me, our bodies still damp from the shower. He lay on his back, eyes closed, and soon his breathing became deep and steady. I snuggled against his side, my face nestled between his shoulder and his neck, and he held me close while he slept.

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