Spiral of Bliss 03 Awaken (31 page)

She never has to beg, but it’s sexy as hell when she does. I back away and sit in an easy chair. My cock juts upward, and I have to fight the urge to stroke it. Liv rises on her elbow and stares at me, her eyes hot.

“Come and fuck me,” I tell her.

She lets out a little moan that goes straight to my blood. Pushing herself off the sofa, she walks over to straddle my lap. She reaches down to position us both and then with one, mind-blowing plunge, she sinks onto my shaft.

I clutch her hips when she starts to move. I won’t last long, not with her tight as a glove and her muscles so pliable. Not with her breasts bouncing in front of me, moans streaming from her throat, her ass slamming down on my thighs.

She braces one hand on my shoulder and uses the other to play with her nipples. Her breath comes faster, her hair falling over her face with the increasing force of her movements.

“Dean,” she gasps, digging her fingers into my shoulder. “Touch them.”

I palm her breasts as she supports herself with her other hand. Her muscles tighten with strain, and I’m sweating with the effort of withholding my orgasm. One twist of her nipples and she comes again with a shriek, convulsing around my shaft.

Before I can thrust upward, she slides off and moves back on my thighs. She grasps my cock, her gaze rapt on the movement of her own hand. A few strokes in and I can’t hold it anymore, pushing up into her grip as I shoot all over her hand.

“Oh, fuck.” Still gasping, Liv rubs her palm over her belly and sinks against my heaving chest. “That was amazing.”

I stroke her smooth, damp back as her breathing begins to slow. “So what was this dream about?”

She doesn’t respond, which makes me grin.

“Come on, beauty,” I cajole, moving my hands to her gorgeous ass. “Was I a pirate captain again?”

She presses her face against my shoulder and shakes her head. I squeeze her ass.

“A swashbuckler?” I ask. “A king? A superhero?”

She shakes her head again. I can almost feel her blush against my skin.

“What then?” I slip a finger into her pussy just to make her squirm. She does. And moans.

“A knight?” I ask.


“No.”

“Then what?” I work my finger a little harder. She shifts her hips to accommodate me.

“None of your business,” she mumbles.

“Uh huh. What do you do when I’m not around during one of your hot dreams?” I swear her blush gets warmer.


“Left to your own devices, aren’t you?” I circle my thumb around her clit. She shivers. “Seems only fair that you should tell me what you’re dreaming about when I’m around to help you get off.”

“All right, fine.” She pushes up to glower at me. “You were an elf.”

I’m so surprised that I stop touching her. “An elf?”

Her cheeks redden again. “Yes.”

“Like with pointy ears and a funny hat?” I can’t help grinning. “That’s what got you so hot?”

She shoves at my chest. “No, not with pointy ears and a funny hat.”

“Then what?”

“You were like a
Lord of the Rings
elf. You know, with a leather vest and tight pants and a bow and arrow.”

“What were you?” I ask.

“I was a… a fairy.”

“A fairy.” This is increasingly promising. “Like Tinker Bell?”

“Not exactly. I did have wings, though. Jeweled slippers. I was wearing a white gown with a golden belt.” She pauses. “And nothing underneath.”

Nice.

Even though it takes some persuading to get Liv to tell me about her erotic dreams, the result is well worth the effort. Not to mention that she always warms to the story after her initial reluctance, likely embellishing it with extra details.

“So what’d we do?” I ask.


“Well, there was a war going on between the elves and the fairies over possession of the forest,” she says. “I lived in a peaceful village with my fairy brethren…”

“Your fairy
brethren?
”

She swats my shoulder. “Yes. And you were out marauding with a troop of warrior elves, trying to take over the forest district by district.”

“Uh huh.”

“You saw me one afternoon when you were out hunting. I was picking flowers next to a lake. It was a really hot day, so I waded into the water to cool off. You were hiding behind a tree when you saw me getting all wet.”

“And I got hard.”

“Not right away because you were watching my pet deer.”

Sometimes it takes Liv a while to get to the good stuff.

“You had a pet deer,” I say.


“Yes. Its name was Clover.”


“When did we have sex?”


Liv arches an eyebrow. “I thought you wanted me to tell you about my dream.”


“Yeah, but maybe without so much backstory.”

She sighs as if I’d said I wanted to read the Cliff’s Notes version of a literary masterpiece.


“My pet deer,” she says pointedly, “was named Clover. You wanted to bring her back to your camp for dinner. But when you moved to raise your bow and arrow, you stepped on a twig. Both Clover and I heard the noise. She ran off into the forest, and I hurried to try and find my gown, which I’d left on the shore.”

“You were naked?”

“Of course I was naked. I was in the lake, remember?”

“Why were you naked in the forest if there was a threat of marauding elves?”
Two can play at this game.

“I told you,” Liv says. “I lived in a peaceful fairy district.”

“But if warrior elves were taking over the forest district by district, you should’ve known about the danger and not gone skinny-dipping in the lake.”

Liv folds her arms over her chest and frowns. She’s trying for annoyance, but the position of her arms pushes her breasts up and out and makes her look damn sexy.

I want to lick her nipples. Instead I force my gaze back to her face.

“Okay,” I say. “So maybe there was a treaty between the fairies and the elves that they’d leave your district alone. So you thought you were safe.”

Her expression clears. “Yeah, that’s good. I mean… um, something like that. Anyway, I was hurrying to the shore when you stepped out from behind the trees. You pointed an arrow at me and told me not to move. Then you realized I was naked.”

“Took me a while.”

“The sun was at a weird angle, so you couldn’t really see at first. Then when you came closer, I grabbed my gown and held it in front of my wet body. You said you had to take me back to your camp. When I refused, you asked what I’d do to earn my release.”

She stares at my mouth and settles back on my thighs. I shift so my erection slides against her pussy.

“What’d you say?” I ask.

“That I… um, that I’d do whatever it took. I had to get back to my village.”

“Had to find your pet deer.”

“Yeah.” She lifts a hand and rubs her thumb across my lower lip. “So I said I’d do whatever you wanted. I was already… aroused, you know, being naked and in the water with the sun hot on my skin. And then you were there, all big and imposing with this tight leather vest and long hair…”

“Long hair?”

“You were an elf.” She wiggles a little against my thigh. A jolt of heat goes directly to my cock. “You pulled my gown away so you could stare at my naked body, all glistening with water droplets. The sight of me made you crazy with lust.”

She slides her hand down my chest to my stiffening prick. Her breasts move as she takes a breath.

“Then what?” My voice is getting hoarse.

“Then you ordered me to press my breasts together because you wanted to fuck my cleavage.”

“And you did.”


“Sank to my knees before you’d even finished giving me the order,” Liv whispers.


My gaze goes to her full, round breasts which I actually haven’t fucked in some time. I groan at the thought, shifting to ease what is again turning into an almost painful erection. My cock swells against Liv’s hand.

Her eyes widen. “Nice recovery.”

“Nice dream.”


I figure my elven-self and her fairy-self both got off good and hard, but I’m no longer interested in the details. I reach up to fondle one of her breasts, running my thumb over the peak.

“Get on your knees.”

She shifts to the floor, easing herself between my legs. I lift her other breast and push my cock between them.

“Oh, God, Dean…”


“Do it.”


Liv cups her breasts and rubs them over my erection, her skin growing slick and shiny, her chest heaving against the underside of my shaft. Enveloped in her pillowy softness, I lean back and let her work herself over me, rubbing, stroking, squeezing. After a few minutes she lowers her head and licks the tip as I push upward.

Pressure tightens the base of my spine. I put my hand on the back of Liv’s neck. She shifts to the side. I grasp her around the waist and bring us both to the floor. She wraps her legs around me, arching her hips as I plunge into her.

It takes longer this time, a slow and powerful fucking that makes me grit my teeth as the pressure builds. Liv clutches my forearms and moans, her body rolling and quivering with every thrust. I could watch her for hours, feel this forever, but the urgency spirals out of control. I sink deep inside her as she convulses around me, and then there’s nothing but pleasure.

Easy. It’s so easy to be with her, my lusty fairy, my beautiful wife. Wanting her is like breathing. Needing her is in my blood. And loving her will always be the beat of my heart.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Olivia

June 7

crowd of parents and children bustle around the gabled front porch of the Wonderland Café. The house has been repainted a fresh hunter-green with white trim, and the whimsical sign is guarded by a white rabbit wearing a monocle.

In honor of the grand opening, there is a bouncy house at the side of the building with inflatable hot-air balloons tethered to the roof. Actors dressed as
Alice in Wonderland
and
Wizard of Oz
characters wander around with samples of cakes and cookies. There’s a face-painting station, a balloon sculptor, and a couple of musicians playing catchy songs.

Inside the café, the air shimmers with excitement and children’s voices. Clatter rises from the kitchen as Jan and her staff get out orders of soufflés, sandwiches, Rainbow Fruit Pizzas, Flying Monkey Bread, Scarecrow Straw, and plenty of Cheshire Cat cupcakes and edible teacups.

Marianne and several of the former Matilda’s Teapot staff bustle around seating people and recommending things from our tea menu, while Allie and I help expedite the food, and Brent ensures everything is running smoothly.

The place looks incredible with Allie’s detailed murals covering the walls, a painted yellow-brick staircase, new light fixtures and bright, airy colors. Greenery adorns the front door, and guests are offered the choice of sitting in one of the Oz rooms upstairs or Wonderland downstairs.

It’s everything I’d hoped it would be, everything Allie and I had envisioned.

“One Wicked Witch’s Hat, made to order.” I place a dish in front of a pigtailed little girl. She grins at the chocolate-dipped sugar cone upside down on a scoop of ice cream.

“Are you booking for your birthday party packages yet?” her mother asks me. “This would be a great place to have a party, especially in winter.”

“We certainly are. I’ll get you a copy of our party brochure so you can see all the options.”

I get her one of the brochures, then check on a couple of other customers before going outside, where a crowd is enjoying the festivities. I shade my eyes from the sun as I see Ben Stafford by the face-painting booth with his daughters. Crystal is there too, wandering around with a man whom I don’t recognize.

I approach Kelsey at the ring-toss booth, amused to see that she has a daisy painted on her cheek.

“It’s fantastic, Liv,” she says, after we exchange a hug. “You and Allie have done amazing work.”

I smile, both pleased and proud. “We couldn’t have done it without your help.”

“Yeah, you could have.” Kelsey nudges me with her elbow. “Where’s Dean?”

“On his way. The guy who was supposed to drop off some bubble-blowing machines had a problem with his car, so Dean went to pick them up.”

“Can I get a picture, ladies?” Rita Johnson, the magazine reporter who wrote the article about the transformation of Matilda’s Teapot to the Wonderland Café, stops beside us.

Kelsey and I both smile into her camera as she snaps a few pictures.

“I’ve talked to a few of the parents, and they’re thrilled to have a place like this in town,” Rita says, studying the photo in the LCD window. “Looks like you’re going to be a big success.”

“I hope so. Did you try the Red Queen cake?”

“I’ve tried everything.” Rita shoots me a grin and heads toward one of the food stations. “It’s delicious. Think I’ll try it all a second time too.”

After doing a quick check to ensure all the servers have enough samples, I turn to go back inside.

A sense of alarm, of impending danger, hits me suddenly. My gaze lands on a big, gray-haired man who is coming toward the café. His face is set with anger, his stride long. My chest constricts. I know to my bones that this is Edward Hamilton. I start for the steps, wanting to prevent him from getting near the café, but he reaches the porch and stops.

“Olivia West?” he asks.

Cold prickles my skin, and a black tendril of dread begins to snake around my heart. I force myself to approach him.

“I’m Olivia West. May I help you?”

He looks down at me. I dig my fingernails into my palms and meet his steely gaze.

“Where’s your husband?” he asks.

Oh God.

“Mr. Hamilton, if you’d like to talk, we can go…”

“You can go to hell,” he snaps.

Anxiety spears me. My breathing is getting too fast.

“This is not the—” I stop.

Behind Edward Hamilton, standing on the sidewalk, is his daughter Maggie. A bubble of rage bursts inside me. Our gazes clash across the space.

“You need to leave, Mr. Hamilton,” I say. “Both of you.”

“What the fuck gives you the right to slander my daughter?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“The hell you don’t.” He moves closer, a vein throbbing in his forehead. “My daughter and I both got an anonymous email with some crap about Maggie and another professor. That’s bullshit. West is the one guilty of that, as you well know. And he can’t hide behind anonymity like a fucking coward.”

I’m starting to shake. I retreat to get him out of my field of vision, but my back hits the side of the porch. I’m half-aware of people starting to look in our direction. I pray the music is loud enough to drown out Edward Hamilton’s voice.

“If you don’t leave right now,” I tell him, “I’ll call the police.”

“You do that, little girl. Get the police involved on your opening day, all these kids around. What a great story, huh?”

My fear is turning into outright horror as I realize Edward Hamilton has figured out that I have no way to defend myself, not here. Not now.

“What… what do you want?” I stammer.

“Where is that fucker husband of yours?”

“He’s—”

“Right here.”

Dean’s deep, measured voice floods me with relief. I draw in a breath and shift my gaze to where he’s standing a short distance away. His body is lined with tension, his eyes burning as he looks at Hamilton.

“Get away from my wife,” he orders.

Hamilton turns to glare at him. “You want to take this up, West? You couldn’t leave it alone?”

“We ended it.” Dean steps closer, his fists clenching. “It’s over. Now get the hell out of here.”

“You trash my daughter, you’re dead.” Hamilton strides toward him, extending his finger. “Who else has that email?”

“I didn’t send you any email.”

“Liar.”

Dean holds up his hands in a gesture of surrender, though he’s gotten between me and Hamilton. “Look, you want to talk? Let’s go. We’ll take this somewhere else.”

“The fuck we will.” Hamilton’s voice booms over the crowd.

Behind him, a few parents are pulling their children away from the café. Kelsey strides toward us, frowning. The music dies as more people turn toward the commotion.

“What’s going on?” Kelsey stops near me, her sharp gaze scanning all of us.

“Nothing.” Dean shakes his head at her, his voice tight with warning. “Mr. Hamilton is leaving.”

Hamilton backs up a few steps, and for a second I think he really is leaving. Then he turns to Maggie.

“Tell them,” he orders. “Tell them all what this guy did to you. Intimidation, harassment, trying to force you to sleep with him.”

“No!” I can’t stop the denial, anger flooding me. “Maggie is the liar! She was failing, and instead of actually
working,
she accused—”

“Your husband is a goddamned pervert who preys on students, Mrs. West,” Hamilton shouts at me.

“Shut up, Hamilton.” Dean’s voice is dangerously low.

Allie comes out onto the porch, her forehead creased with confusion, with Brent right behind her. Kelsey taps at her smartphone and holds it to her ear.

“I will take you down further than I already have.” Hamilton heaves in a breath, his eyes blazing as he stabs his forefinger into Dean’s chest. “You think you can accuse my daughter of wrongdoing when
you’re
the one fucking with your students?”

Gasps rise from the crowd. Panic fills my chest. More people take their children’s hands and hurry them away. I rush forward to get to Dean. Kelsey grabs my arm and yanks me to a halt. My breath burns my throat. I struggle to twist my arm from her grip.

“Let me go.”

“Careful, Liv.” She’s watching Dean, her eyes narrowed.

“It’s about time everyone knows what a scumbag you are,” Hamilton snaps at Dean.

“Leave. Now.” Dean’s muscles bunch with anger as he closes in on Hamilton, forcing him to the sidewalk.

Hamilton stops near Maggie, who is standing with her arms closed around her body. Her expression is set as she scans the crowd, her gaze landing on me. A wave of anger passes between us. Hamilton gets in front of Dean again, and then they’re close enough that the air pulls tight with hatred.

“You did it with her, didn’t you?” Hamilton gives Dean a shove, then points his finger at me. “Poor girl had a nervous breakdown after some college scandal, and you knew you could fuck her into—”

No!

Dean’s rage explodes like a supernova. His body is a blur as he attacks Hamilton, tackling him and crashing them both to the ground. Maggie screams. Hamilton hits the sidewalk, a curse erupting from him.

Dean straddles him and lashes out, rage firing every muscle as he grabs Hamilton’s neck with one hand and slams his face with the other. Blood spurts. I yank my arm from Kelsey and run forward, my heart pounding. Brent pushes past me and races toward the two enraged men.

“Dean, stop!” I scream.

A flood of horrified gasps rise from the crowd. People rush away. Children twist toward their parents, some of them starting to cry. Other customers come out onto the porch, faces wide-eyed with curiosity and shock.

Brent and a couple of other men try to grab Dean and yank him off Hamilton. Before they can, Hamilton rises and lands a few punches. Dean pulls himself away from Brent and lunges at Hamilton. They go down shouting, fists flying. Dean gets the upper hand and hits Hamilton again and again.

The wail of a police siren pierces the air. The crowd scatters as the car slows and comes to an abrupt halt. Two officers leap out, hands on their guns.

“Break it up!” one of them yells.

It takes three men to haul Dean off Edward Hamilton. Blazing with rage, Dean fights them off and breaks free, going for Hamilton again. One of the officers tackles him, forcing him to the ground. A second police car comes to a stop at the curb.

I watch in horror as Dean struggles to free himself, his eyes black with fury. The officer yanks his arms back and slaps handcuffs on him.

“Well, shit,” Kelsey mutters beside me.

My face is hot, damp with tears, my chest aching. Panic encroaches again, the black cloud spreading over my whole body. I grope for Kelsey’s arm to have something to hold on to and count to five as I breathe.

When my vision clears, I see Dean standing beside the police car, sweaty and angry, his face set hard as he nods abruptly in response to the officer’s questions. Edward Hamilton is talking to two other officers, gesticulating wildly and pointing accusing fingers at Dean.

I can’t look at Kelsey. I can’t turn around to see Allie and Brent or Ben Stafford or my mother. I don’t want to see the few people still lingering, watching my husband get handcuffed and arrested.