Chapter 9
CADE
Cade stood up and tried to turn around, but somehow one flipper got caught on the other, and he fell square on his ass.
Faye giggled.
He narrowed his eyes. “Did you make me do that with your magick?”
She waved her palms at him. “No, I didn’t do anything, I swear.” Turning her lips inside did little to hide her mirth.
“It’s not funny,” he growled, struggling to his feet. “I ought to spank you for laughing.”
She covered her bottom. “Oh no, I can’t take any more spanking, Cade, please. I’m sorry I laughed.”
He glowered but stomped to the sofa and threw himself on it.
“Clean up the dishes,” he said with an imperial wave.
His command was unnecessary as Faye was halfway to the table, making efficient work of stacking dishes and carrying them to the sink.
She washed and dried every dish, putting things away and wiping down the table.
“Do you have a dog?” she asked, pointing to the doggie door cut into his rear exit.
“I used to,” he lied.
“Must’ve been a big one.”
“Yep, wolf-dog. So what is your plan for getting my feet back?” he demanded, his ego still bruised from the fall.
“I’m uh… just going to do some research before I try anything else. You know, so I don’t mess up again.”
“Well, what kind of research?”
“Um, you know—looking stuff up.” She got out a broom and began to sweep his floors without being told.
He hardly believed it. She surpassed any fantasy of a slave girl he ever had—and he’d had more than a few.
Fantasies, not actual slaves. This was the first time he’d ever been lucky enough to fulfill all the lustful dreams of his youth.
Well, almost all of them. She hadn’t begged him to take her yet, which was still high on his bucket list. Faye Godmeyer’s heat index was off the charts.
Right now, though, he had a feeling she was blowing smoke up his ass. “Where do you look it up?”
“In a book, okay?” she snapped.
“Oh no you didn’t,” he said, infusing sharp warning into his tone.
Her hand flew to her bottom. “Sorry, Master.”
He scowled at her. “You have the book with you?”
“Yes, Master.”
He heard the slight sarcasm in her use of “Master”, but she had walked the line enough that he didn’t call her on it.
“So, enough cleaning. Go get the book.”
“Let me just mop the floor first.”
“Bring me the book and I’ll look while you mop.”
“Absolutely not,” she cried, “—Master.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s a personal journal, not for your eyes.”
“Faye, I am losing patience with you. Go get the book and look up the spell.”
She threw the broom back into the closet with a clatter and pulled out the mop and bucket. “It’s not a spell,” she said through gritted teeth. “I am not a witch. I’m a fairy. Well, half-fairy, anyway.” The last words were muttered.
“You’re only a half-fairy? Is that why your magick sucks?”
The lights began to flash, growing bright then dimming. Though it snowed outside, he heard a loud clap of thunder roll through the house. Apparently, he’d pissed off the fairy—no, half-fairy.
She filled the mop bucket, ignoring his order to leave it and get the book, and began to mop the floor so hard he thought she’d pull up the tiles.
“Do you have a plan for figuring this out, or don’t you?”
She did not lift her head from her work or answer him, just continued swabbing the floor with vigorous strokes until she had covered every inch at least three times.
“I’m talking to you, slave.”
She ignored him, picking up the bucket and mop and moving to his bathroom, where she flung open the cabinet under the sink and began to pull out cleaning supplies.
“What is your plan, Faye?” he asked, raising his voice so she could hear him over her frantic scrubbing in the bathroom. “You don’t have one, do you? You don’t have a clue how to turn my feet back.”
The lights dimmed.
“You screwed up, and you can’t fix it.”
Drops of rain began to fall inside, and the potted ficus tree beside the couch wilted before his eyes.
He raked his fingers through his hair, realizing he’d been too harsh. Standing, he flapped to the bathroom where Faye was scrubbing the bathtub, her reddened bottom peeking out from under the pink skirt, the clear view of her pussy making him grow hard. He heard a sniff.
“Okay, enough cleaning,” he said gently. “Come here, Faye.”
She stopped scrubbing but did not turn around or move from her position over the tub. Clearly she had no idea how delicious she looked from his point of view or she would not endanger her innocence that way.
“Come here, baby.” He managed to squeeze into the small bathroom with his giant flippers to pluck her off her knees and roll her into his arms. “Don’t cry. We’ll figure it out, together, all right? Come here, sweetheart.”
He walked back to the living room and settled on the couch with her nestled in his arms, soaking his shirt with her tears. He stroked her back, tucking her head against his chest. When she stopped crying, he asked, “What about other fairies? You mentioned talking to someone else about it.”
“I don’t actually know any other fairies.”
“But you said—”
“I lied. I’m sorry… please-don’t-spank-me?” she begged in a tiny voice, looking up at him with big, pleading eyes.
It would be impossible to refuse her anything when she pulled those puppy dog eyes. “I won’t spank you,” he conceded. “Thank you for your honesty now. But what about your parents?”
“My mom died when I was ten, before I came into my powers, so she didn’t have a chance to teach me to use them.”
“Ah. And your dad is human.”
“Yes.”
“When did you come into your powers?”
“At puberty.”
“So you have just been trying to figure things out on your own ever since? How old are you?”
“Twenty-six. Yeah. I do actually have a book—it was my mom’s journal. It’s not a ‘how-to’ or anything, but it gives me ideas about how she used her magick.”
“Where is the journal?”
“I brought it with me.”
“It’s the book you didn’t want me to see?”
“Yeah. Because it’s personal.”
“I get it. Okay, little fairy. How about if I bring you the journal and you do some bedtime reading here on the couch before you fall asleep? Maybe something will come to you.”
“You think?” She sounded hopeful.
“I sure as hell hope so,” he muttered, extricating himself from her and tossing the throw blanket over her petite frame.
He found the journal and also pulled out a shoe box of jewelry his ex-girlfriend had left. “Do fairies use magick stones? You know, crystals and stuff?”
FAYE
She sat up to peer in the box as Cade set it in her lap. Inside was a heap of jewelry, mostly with large semi-precious stones. She sensed the intelligence in the stones, the songs they sang. Pulling out a chunky amethyst pendant in the shape of a donut, she held it to her heart.
“Does it help?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” she whispered. “I think so. Seems like it’s talking to me. It wants to help.”
Cade lifted an eyebrow, but he didn’t comment. She wondered at the ease with which he had accepted her magick. She’d spent her whole life hiding her pointy ears and her abilities from humans who wouldn’t understand, and yet it hadn’t fazed him.
“Who do these belong to?”
He shrugged. “Me, I guess. You, if you want something.”
“Who did they used to belong to?” she pressed, sensing a story.
“I bought them for my ex-girlfriend, so she left them when she moved in with Tom, Dick, and Harry.”
“All three?”
“Yeah. They have some kind of polyamory thing going—I don’t know. It’s not my gig. I’m the type who mates for life—with just one woman.”
Something about his words made the hairs on her arms stand up. “Did you think she was your life mate?”
His upper lip curled and she thought she heard a growling sound deep in his chest. “I made a mistake,” he muttered, standing up.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to touch on a sore subject.”
He gave a quick shake of his head. “It’s not.” He waved his hand at the box. “Have at those—take them all if you like them. I’d rather you enjoy them than…” He gave his head another quick shake, then looked at her. “I like you, Faye. I’m sorry I’ve been a ass about it all.”
She didn’t know why his apology should make her blush, but her face grew warm. “Um, thanks, I think.”
He pointed at her, with a return of his devilish look. “That doesn’t mean you’re not still under house arrest.”
“Yes, Master.” She grinned. Despite the hell he’d put her through, the master/slave game titillated her as much as it did him, and hearing he was a “mate for life” kind of guy rather than the playboy she’d assumed him to be made him one hundred times more attractive.
When he had disappeared into his bedroom, she changed into her jammies, brushed her teeth, and returned to the sofa.
She left the journal. The truth was, she had read it backward and forward, and there was nothing about magick mistakes in it.
She curled up on the couch, holding the purple gem against her sternum, and closed her eyes.
She woke up freezing. Darkness permeated Cade’s house, and he clearly slept with the thermostat turned down.
She shivered under the thin throw blanket.
Standing, she tiptoed to the closet where she’d found the sheet to use as a tablecloth, but came up empty on blankets.
Maybe Cade had an extra one at the foot of his bed.
She heard a soft snore from his bedroom where the door stood ajar.
She crept into his room, peering into the darkness. She couldn’t see anything. Bumping into the foot of his bed, she patted the mattress to find the covers. Cade jerked, and at the same time, she heard a terrible, animal-like snarl and felt the floor thud as he landed inches from her.
She screeched in surprise as she was yanked up off her feet by a thick arm around the waist and was held dangling in the air.
“Faye? What’s going on?” he demanded in a gruff, sleep-graveled voice.
“I’m sorry!” she squeaked. “I just came in for a blanket—it’s cold on the couch.”
Seeing in the dark did not appear to be a problem for Cade, because he landed his huge palm square on her ass, hard. “Don’t surprise me when I’m sleeping,” he growled. “It’s dangerous to sneak up on me.” He tossed her in his bed.
“What are you doing?” She lurched to her knees to climb back out. Crawling in behind her, he wrapped a heavy arm over her waist and pulled her back firmly against his front, spooning her.
“Go back to sleep. I’ll keep you warm,” he mumbled, his breath already returning to the slow sigh of slumber.
She lay still for a long time, debating the wisdom of sleeping next to a man she found all too attractive.
But even if she could extricate herself from Cade’s iron grasp, she didn’t want to leave the delicious warmth of his bed…
and his body. She felt acutely aware of every detail—the weight of his arm across her waist, the feel of his breath expanding his chest against her back, his smell all around her.
She needed to be careful. At the rate they were going, she’d be begging him to take her virginity by the next day, and then all hope of fixing his feet would be lost.
FAYE
She woke to Cade’s hand cupping her breast inside her pajama top, which developed into a delicious torture of her nipple between his fingers. She twisted her head around to peer at her landlord, only to find his eyes were still closed, as if he were dream-molesting her.
His eyes fluttered open. “Mmm,” he said, giving her a toothy grin.
“You weren’t even awake when you started!” she accused. “You didn’t even know who you were groping, did you?”
“So? I know now, and she’s exactly who I want to have my hands all over,” he said with an appreciative rumble, his hand stroking down the flat of her belly, dangerously close to her hoo-ha.
She panted, one part of her brain screaming at her to get out of the bed immediately, the other immobilizing her body, not wanting to miss a single second of the incredible sensations Cade elicited.
He pushed his hips against her, his hardened cock wanting in on the action. She froze. He moved his hips back.
“Shh… don’t worry. I promised you I wouldn’t do anything you didn’t want me to.” His huge palm cupped her mons over her pajama bottoms.
“Oh… oh!” She squirmed. His head lowered, his tongue flicking her exposed nipple, making the soles of her feet arch and her toes curl. So that was where the saying came from. Oh God, he was definitely making her toes curl.
“Faye.” He lifted his head and blowing lightly across her nipple.
“Yeah?” she croaked.
“I’m not going to have sex with you. I just want to make you feel good. Will you let me?”
Her mind went blank. Nothing in her could make the word “no” come out of her lips.
Cade put his lips back over her nipple, this time sucking it deep into his mouth.
A white lick of heat shot straight to her pussy, and she gasped, arching, her head falling back in ecstasy. “Um…”
His hand slipped inside her pajama bottoms. “Ah!” she cried in surprise, embarrassed again about her lack of grooming down below.
“Oh, Faye,” he murmured in a deep, sexy voice as his middle finger connected with her slippery slit. “You do have an adorable pussy, don’t you?”
“Um… what do you mean?” She danced and writhed under his touch, her breath moving in short gasps.
Cade removed his hand and she bit back a groan of disappointment, but he crawled lower, grasping the waist of her pajama bottoms and drawing them down. Her belly fluttered in nervous anticipation. “Oh… um…”
It wasn’t as if she’d never heard of cunnilingus.
But hearing about it and experiencing it were two very different things.
She was totally unprepared for the shock of sensation when his tongue hit her clit.
If he had not been holding down her pelvis, she probably would have shot three feet in the air. “Whoa! Wow! Uhhh… Cade! Oh my God!”
“Mmm-hmm,” he murmured when he came up for air. “Just enjoy it, Faye. This is for you.”
It was foolish, but she felt unworthy of his ministrations considering she had turned his feet into flippers and owed him three thousand dollars.
Or maybe it was because she had never thought she would experience the level of pleasure she felt, but tears began to leak out of her eyes.
Not sad tears. The tears of coming home.