
by
CASSANDRA CURTIS
Amber Quill Press, LLC
http://www.amberquill.com
http://www.amberheat.com
An Amber Heat Book
Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.
ISBN 978-1-60272-032-9
Cover Art © 2007 Trace Edward Zaber
Layout and Formatting
Provided by: ElementalAlchemy.com
Published in the United States of America
Compulsion
Cup Of Fate
I Put A Spell On You
To my amazing editor, Karin,
for her insight and advice. And to her husband, who named
my series Shifting Tides. Karin, he's a keeper!
This had to be the stupidest thing she'd done so far. If she could strangle Jill, she would. But no, Jill had called on her cell phone at the last minute to cancel. Wonderful. The whole stupid class had been Jill's idea to begin with, but, as usual, she was the one who got stuck on the follow through.
She could be home watching her favorite TV show, comfortable in her fuzzy slippers. Instead, she and ten other rejects were standing in the produce aisle at the supermarket, learning how to fondle cucumbers and snag their Mr. Right among the vegetables.
When had she become desperate? She knew how to flirt, how to meet men...just not how to keep one.
"Terri? Terri Fletcher?"
She glanced to her left, then her right--nowhere to hide! No. Oh, dear God, no. Maybe she imagined the spandex covered horror? She closed her eyes, willed herself far, far away. Then opened them. Her mother's best friend dropped her grapefruits and waved. She was coming over!
Terri clutched the cucumber tighter, inadvertently pushing on a soft spot. The vegetable squirted pulpy seeds all over her fingers. Great!
The instructor leaned over to pass her a napkin. "I think you just went to the head of the class, Ms. Fletcher!"
The rest of the group giggled. She threw the abused cuke onto the pile and wiped the mess off her hands. While she looked around for somewhere to pitch the piece of paper towel, bony arms drenched in cloying perfume, enveloped her.
"I thought that was you! What are you doing shopping way out here? I thought you moved to the beach or somewhere on the coast, out near the jetties?
"Mrs. Larimore. Isn't tonight bunco night for you and the other ladies in Mom's group?"
"That's on Thursdays. Friday is shakin' your groove thing night." The older woman winked. Then she happened to look over her shoulder at the other group participants, all of them standing near the pile of long, green veggies, each holding a cucumber.
Her own Mr. Cucumber chose that second to roll down the precarious pile. She reached out to grab it before it fell to the ground. Oh, I didn't realize..." She looked back at Terri. "Are these your friends?" The older woman leaned forward, whispered in her ear. "Why are they all fondling vegetables, dear?"
Floor, swallow me. Swallow me whole. "Um, it's a workshop--you remember my friend Jill--she signed us up for it, but she couldn't make it."
"But a workshop on...what?"
The instructor stepped forward. "Hello. The class is for single women on how to flirt with men in a non-threatening, equal environment."
"Ah, well at least her mother will be happy to know she's decided to get professional help." She turned back to Terri and hugged her. "She'll be thrilled you haven't given up. Now you go on back to your class. And pay attention. You have a lot to learn about men, and you're not getting any younger!"
A cloud of perfume trailed in her wake as Mrs. Larimore returned to her cart, wheeling away from the produce section. Before midnight, everyone in her mother's circle would know. Could a woman die of embarrassment? She might be the first to find out.
She stayed for the entire hour and a half workshop, not because she thought she'd actually learn something, but more due to the fact that her check had already been cashed.
Her cell phone rang for the ninth time since she'd left the parking lot. Deep breaths, she told herself. She dug around in her purse one-handed and came up with the tiny flip phone. She glanced from the road to the caller ID. It was her mother. Again.
Ignore it. Go ahead. You're a grown woman. You've ignored it so far. Just because she keeps calling doesn't mean you have to-- "Hi, Mom."
"Is something wrong with your phone?"
"No, Mom. I'm in the SUV, on my way home. You know how I don't like to talk on the cell and drive at the same time."
"So, you're done with your class."
Mrs. Larimore of the spandex groove thing hadn't wasted any time. "Can I call you tomorrow, Mom? I'm just pulling into the driveway."
"I wish you'd moved somewhere closer. Especially if you still plan to grocery shop all the way over here. That's a lot of gas. You really should get rid of that thing you drive--get something more economical. Especially since you insist on living on your own income."
Next she'd suggest moving back home. "Mom... you're breaking...up...call you...tomorrow." She pressed the end call button with a guilty smile and shoved the cell phone in her jeans pocket. Sometimes a little distance was healthy.
She hummed to herself and got out to check her mail. Bills, bills and, oh joy! More bills. Her mother had a point--but she had no intention of going to her mother with her hand out. Just like she had no intention of allowing her mother to help her get a man. The last thing she needed was busy-body interference of the magickal variety.
The sack of groceries she'd bought slid from her hip. She caught it with her knee, and had just unlocked and opened her house door when she heard the noise.
A pathetic moan came from around the side, behind her house. Maybe a hurt animal on the ocean's rock jetties below? She placed the groceries on her coffee table, tossed her purse next to it, and grabbed both a flashlight and the baseball bat her father insisted she keep in the closet. If it was a prowler she'd score a hit and a run.
She snuck around the corner. Something tried to move. A strange, dark form huddled between the clumps of sea grass and sand. She waved the flashlight over the shape, saw it slump over and kiss the ground. On closer inspection she realized it was a man. A very cold, wet, and naked man.
His ribs ached and his thigh burned from the salt water. The shark's razor-sharp teeth had nicked him a glancing blow, nothing too serious, even though it hurt like hell. He was lucky to have made it to shore before the damned thing started its second pass. Or another shark scented blood in the water and came to investigate.
He managed to crawl up the sandy incline toward a house that overlooked the slick black rocks his kind enjoyed for sunbathing. No lights inside. A good sign. Meant that the land-dwellers were gone. If he could just make it to the wooden steps and deck, he'd break in, take what he needed, and leave. His conscience be damned.
Pain and blood loss forced him to his knees. He pressed one hand to his thigh and tore some of the sea grass with the other. If he could make a rough sort of tourniquet, it might slow the bleeding. He managed to crawl another four feet before he sprawled, passed out, only inches shy of the first step.
Awareness returned as he woke and took in his surroundings. He sat in a wooden chair, on the same deck he'd tried earlier to reach. A soft but scared feminine voice spoke in low tones to someone on an impossibly small, cordless phone. Interesting. When he'd last been ashore, there had been talk of these small communicators amongst the land-dwellers, but he'd seen no such device except on the boxes they called Tee Vee.
"Yes, I'll stay on the line."
The female glanced his way and dropped the phone. "Oh, are you okay? Duh, of course you're not okay! Sorry, but I'm a little frazzled. It's not often naked men pass out in my backyard. Especially ones who look like they got chewed on by a shark."
He looked down at himself, lifted the blanket wrapped around his waist and shoulders, and noted the bloody towel secured around his thigh with thick, shiny gray tape.
His cap! Where was his sealskin cap?
He tried to stand, but fell back into the chair. Had the female land-dweller found his cap?
For millennia, his people told of the lusty appetites of the land-dwellers--how they would steal and hide the silky bit of fur, forcing many a good selkie to stay with them, unable to return to the sea. He looked upon the female and saw honest concern shadow her face. No doubt an act.
"Where is my cap? Do not think to hide it from me, treacherous female!"
The woman scooped the phone off the deck floor where it had fallen and took a step back. He eyed the jiggle of her ample breasts and the flare of her hips, the sweet curve of her bent--
"Look, I'm trying to help you here!" She straightened and noticed his stare.
"What?"
"Your body is made for pleasure. It would be no hardship to plumb your depths."
"Why, gee, thanks. Not every day I get an offer like that. In fact, you're the first naked, wet stranger to volunteer."
"I would do much in exchange for my cap." He stood, letting the blanket slide from his muscled shoulders and narrow waist.
"Whoa, big boy! I didn't say go for it. I don't even know your name." She backed up another step.
"I am Destin MacCodrum of the Shining Sea."
"Hello, Destin of the Shining Sea. My name is Terri." She lifted a corner of the blanket and held it back up to him. "An ambulance will be here soon to take you to the hospital. Might be a good idea to keep this on in the meantime."
"Ambulance. I remember those." He took the blanket. "Noisy things."
The woman eyed him strangely. "Did you hit your head when you fell?"
"No."
"You really should sit down and keep off that leg until the paramedics get here."
"I will wait for the ambulance, but I am not going to the hospital. The wound will heal soon enough." He sat in the chair again, adjusted the blanket, and secured it like a toga. "I'll not leave here until I have my cap."
"I don't have your baseball cap. Maybe you left it wherever you left the rest of your clothes?"
He closed his eyes, suddenly weary. His leg still throbbed. And the female, however attractive, tried his patience. The underwater storm had thrown him off course, his innate sense of direction hampered. Then the shark had happened upon him, eager for a meal. There'd been no time to ponder where he'd landed. Until now. Where was he? He opened his eyes, and looked up at the stars in the darkened sky.
The little female seemed insistent she did not have his cap. Perhaps she did not. It may have fallen from his hand on the rocks below. He'd search for it tomorrow.
The whirring cry of an ambulance split the silence, then came to a sudden halt in front of the house. He watched as the woman left him to meet the medics and bring them to the rear of her home.
He would let them treat him, but he would not go with them, not with his cap still here, missing.
Terri forced herself to stop ogling the sexy stranger. He worked out--a lot. But those rippled abs and long, sleek muscles didn't come from a gym. At first, she'd been too worried about him to notice what an incredible specimen of man she'd found.
Oh my...those dark, almost black eyes, and the inky hair. She just knew when it was dry, clean of sea water and sand, brushed straight, it would feather through her fingers in a silky, dark wave. She tried to peer closer at the strange tattoo on his inner bicep. It was a circle of black. Inside, lines formed an interwoven petal-like design. She'd seen this same tattoo somewhere else, long ago, but couldn't remember where.
The approaching siren interrupted her thoughts. She should be ashamed. The man was hurt. He could be married with kids at home, his family worried about him. And she hadn't thought to ask if he needed her to call someone for him. All he seemed concerned about was his baseball cap. She vowed to look for it in the morning.
She excused herself and went to meet the medics. The two men followed her to the deck. While one of them asked Destin questions, the other opened a case and began treating the wound--which was a heck of a lot smaller than she remembered! It looked like nothing more than a nasty scratch and a couple of small puncture wounds.
What the--?
"What type of animal did you say attacked him?"
"Umm, shark. It looked like a shark bite to me. And there was lots of blood. He passed out."
"Could be, judging by the teeth marks, but if it was, your man got lucky. It was probably a baby."
Destin shot her a warning glance. But why? She knew the gouge she'd seen wasn't from a baby shark.
"How many fingers am I holding up?" One of the medics asked, while the other expertly debrided and bandaged Destin's thigh.
"Three."
"Who is president?"
"Of what?"
A look passed between the paramedics. "The United States."
"He's not from here. He's visiting from Scotland," she interjected, worried now that Destin would wind up in the hospital's "special wing."
One of the men stood to shine a light in his eyes. Then he made a notation on a clipboard. "You know what day it is?"
She tried to "mouth" the word Friday, but quit when she noticed the medic glance from Destin to her.
"Ah, Friday."
The medic shot her a disgusted glare. "Can you tell me what year it is?" He asked Destin.
"I will answer no more of your foolish questions."
"I can't help you if you won't answer the questions."
"I need no more help."
"Fine, the docs in ER can deal with you, buddy."
"Nay. I'll not go to your hospital."
"Look, if you don't go, then your insurance won't pay for our trip."
She had no idea if that was true or if the medic had said it to cajole him. But Destin wasn't easily cajoled...or anything else it seemed. He folded his arms in front of his broad chest and shook his head.
"I stay right here."
"I...umm, I don't think he has insurance anyway."
"No insurance?"
She glanced at Destin, and he shook his head. "I guess not."
"Well, then if you are refusing to go to the hospital, there's nothing more for us here. Keep off the leg for a while if you can. And you might want to see if your girlfriend has antibiotic ointment and fresh bandages for tomorrow." He repacked his case, while the other man handed a clipboard and pen to Destin.
"It's a release I need you to sign, saying that you are refusing transport."
He scrawled something on it, then handed it back the man.
"He should follow up--make him go to a doctor Monday."
"I will." She ignored Destin's fierce scowl.
The medics nodded to her as they left.
She scooted her chair closer to his, and sat down beside him. "Destin, you really should have gone with them. You could have hit your head when you passed out and be suffering from a concussion."
"You truly worry for me? A stranger?"
"Of course I do. Anyone would."
"Nay. Few would. And surely not a land-dweller." He reached out to touch her hair, then leaned closer, whispering, "Fair beauty..."
"Now, I'm really worried," she quipped. "Definitely a concussion."
His lips were mere inches from hers. He leaned in. She tilted her head and met him halfway. The ocean's roar echoed in her mind. Her senses were overwhelmed as she sank beneath his kiss.
He tasted of salt air and the sea. His hands cupped the back of her head and his fingers wove through her hair. He gave a gentle tug, and she opened her mouth.
Now she was the one who felt light-headed. His tongue dove and fluttered, teasing her, tempting her. She placed her hands on his smooth chest and glided her fingers over the rock-solid pecs. Like warm satin over steel. Liquid heat flooded her, sensitizing her skin to his touch. She squeezed her thighs tight.
He pulled back, eyes glittering with some distant emotion. If she didn't know better, she'd think it was wonder. He caressed her face with a butterfly's touch, as she took huge gulping breaths and tried to gather her scattered wits. Despite what her mother thought, she'd been kissed plenty of times--but none like that!
"I, uh...maybe we should go inside. You're probably hungry--for food! I'll fix us something." She led the way, feeling like an idiot. Wanting him, yet shy and a little nervous about the whole idea.
She'd known him less than three hours. Was that too soon to boink his brains out? The poor guy had survived a shark attack. The last thing he needed was to get his bones jumped by a sex-starved lunatic. Of course, her friend Jill would probably have him in bed by now. Or on the floor if she couldn't wait that long.
A pent-up sigh escaped her lips. She opened the refrigerator, then remembered the sack of groceries still on the coffee table. As she turned to go get them, she bumped into her guest. The blanket had slipped farther, exposing more of his taut, satin flesh. Mercy!
"I was just going to--"
His mouth descended on hers. His hands were light on her shoulders, almost a caress. She shivered, deepened the kiss. Screw the groceries, they can wait. His tongue stroked in and out, mimicking the slow motion of his hips. Those seductive hands of his moved lower, cupped her ass, and lifted her onto the kitchen's butcher block island. He eased back, slid his lips across her jaw, down to the pulse in her throat, and laved it with his tongue.
"Your thigh--"
"Is fine. Close your eyes. Let me take care of you."
He tasted her, savored her like he thought she was the most exquisite wine, alternately licking and sucking his way south. She drew a shaky breath and closed her eyes. Her thighs trembled when he glided his hands between them. Raw need made her nipples tighten as she wondered what he'd do next. Where he'd touch. She moaned and twisted her hips.
"I don't understand...I want you so bad and I don't even know you." She kept her eyes closed and fumbled for the buttons on her pants. She felt the cool air against her exposed skin as he pulled them off.
A spiral of heat arced from his mouth to her center. She peeked, saw his dark head bent over her breasts. His tongue traced each of her areoles in tandem--through her T-shirt.
"Oh...mmmm..." She moaned, helpless to stop the noises he drew from her with such ease. She arched, threw her head back.
He lifted her T-shirt over her head, and she raised her arms. His hands glided under her sports bra and pulled it off, too.
"Destin...ahh."
He returned to her breasts, sucked her aching nipples into his mouth, one at a time, worrying them with the edge of his teeth. His hands moved down her ribs. Slow licks of heat melted her last defense, that core of reserve, the piece of her she always held back. She felt it float away and disappear with each caress, every hungry kiss. He grabbed her hips and moved her closer to the edge. And ripped the delicate scrap of lace between her legs.
She trembled under his expert hands. His head dipped lower, his tongue flickered over the slight curve of her belly and farther down. He drew an invisible line from her navel to her clit with his finger, then followed the path with his hot mouth.
He didn't so much taste her as devour her. She thrashed. Her hips bucked against the punishing lash of his tongue. He didn't try to hold her down. No, he held her tight in his arms, seemed to welcome the heady power of her release. She shook and cried out his name.
Under his urging, she slid off the counter and into his arms. He nuzzled her neck and whispered an odd string of words she didn't recognize.
"The bed. Where is it?"
She pointed toward the bedroom. He lifted her in his arms, carried her to the room, then tossed her onto the queen-sized bed. His erection tented the loose blanket. She reached out and tugged off the material, eager to glimpse his cock at full, glorious attention.
While she lay stunned at the magnificence of what she'd uncovered, he grabbed a pillow and shoved it under her hips.
She forced herself to take a deep, calming breath. Oh my, erect, he was bigger than the biggest cucumber she'd seen at the market! She couldn't. It wouldn't--would it? She was no virgin, but it had been a while. Plus her last boyfriend hadn't been as well-endowed. More like a carrot, really. Maybe this had been a mistake?
She edged backward with a case of nerves. "You're huge!"
"Thank you, sweetness."
"Massive, actually."
"Impressed, are you?"
"More like nervous. I don't think it'll fit."
"Ahh, you need a wee bit of coaxing."
"If coaxing is the Scottish word for lubricating jelly, then yeah I want some coaxing, a large jar of it, please." She reached to her left and opened the nightstand, fumbling for one of the condoms Jill had given her earlier that week. For luck. She'd need it if she expected the small piece of rubber to fit him. She glanced up. Oh, my... She tore open the packet with her teeth and passed it to him.
He knelt on the bed, one hand on his cock. The other hand stroked her pussy lips, one finger gliding across her clit, again and again. He managed to roll the condom on single-handedly.
"Ohh, coaxing." She wiggled her hips, and spread her thighs apart. "Hmmm."
"You're a cute one." He leaned closer, his lips grazing the curves of her breasts before zeroing in on the tight peaks of her aching nipples. His thumb glided over and over the slick nub, while his fingers scissored back and forth within her.
Pleasure flowed and tingled throughout her body. Sparkling colors and shapes danced before her eyes against a sea of black. She cried out. Her orgasm rolled over her with the force of a flash flood. She felt hot, on fire, despite her drenched pussy.
His mouth covered hers, swallowing her cry as the flared head of his cock took the place of his thumb and began to stroke her clit. He dipped lower, gathered some of her cream, and with careful precision, slid his thick shaft in shallow, slow thrusts.
She rolled her hips, her tongue tracing the roof of his mouth. His tongue grew more persistent, demanding. He started to shuttle harder and faster...deeper inside her. Each thrust tightened the coil of energy, begged for release. She whimpered, not sure she could take any more of his massive length. She felt so full, already stretched to the max, in a sweet, burning ache.
He tore his mouth from hers, moved, and angled the pillow, raising her hips even higher. Now he stroked in earnest, dug in, grinding, then pulled almost all the way out, before slamming back down. Harder. Tapping her cervix on every thrust.
Her mouth opened in a silent scream, breath gone from the intensity of her orgasm. Glistening tears rolled from her eyes as he gave his own hoarse cry.
He collapsed on top of her, still deep inside, and rolled both of them off the pillow so that she lay astride his body.
Mellow and relaxed as they both were, she didn't want to move. Didn't want to say a word--but his stomach growled, and she realized they'd never gotten their dinner.
"Might be a good idea to feed you now." She left the warmth of the bed, and him, in search of food. Some of her less utilized muscles twinged, her thighs and pussy a little sore, but she'd never felt more alive, or more happy.
She slipped into an old terry cloth robe and cinched it tight around the waist on her way to the refrigerator.
"I'm sorry I didn't mention it earlier, but if you need to call someone, the phone is on the kitchen wall." She opened the fridge door, and scanned the contents. "I have eggs, cheese, broccoli, bacon, some leftover pizza. I could order out--"
"Any fish?" He came up behind her, wrapped an arm about her waist.
"Nothing really edible--at least I don't eat it." She spotted the canned fish in the pantry closet and set it on the counter for him.
"Then why do you buy it?"
"My mom's Uncle Roanan. He loves the stuff, and he likes to stop by from time to time. This used to be his house."
He read the labels. "Fresh is better, but this will do."
"You actually like this stuff, too? Yuck! Tell me you won't eat it like he does--straight from the can?" She shuddered.
"Aye. And a mug of ale if you have it."
"I may hurl. Just so you know." She handed him a cold beer, and chose a can of soda for herself . She reheated the pizza, then joined him at the kitchen table.
"Sorry, I forgot to get you a fork." She started to get back up, but he stopped her.
"No need."
Shock held her motionless. He reached in the opened can of herring with his bare hand, and carried four of the fish to his mouth. He dropped them down his throat and swallowed them whole. At least her uncle made a pretense of chewing!
He downed the other fish just as fast, took a swig of beer, and looked up at her. "Got any more?"
"Help yourself, but don't expect me to sit and watch." She glanced at her pizza and felt her stomach roll.
"You don't like fish?" he asked as he pulled back the metal tab on a third can.
"Not that way. Too gross." She walked into the living room and stretched out on the sofa, remote control in hand. "You didn't want to call anyone?"
What if his family still lived in Scotland? Oh, crap. "Umm, no overseas long distance, though--okay? I haven't paid the last bill."
"I have none to call."
"Nobody? No family, friends? Your mother? No one at all who might be worried about you?"
"Only you."
Geeze, much as her mother drove her crazy sometimes and embarrassed her on a regular basis, she couldn't imagine life without the old witch. "I'm so sorry."
"I'm not." A brilliant smile lit his rugged features. Stole her breath. God, he was handsome.
And then he ruined the moment by throwing his head back, and dropping four whole sardines down his throat.
Destin stood over the couch, staring at her as she slept. Pale color suffused her face. She'd been a little green at the "gills" earlier. His fault. He blamed his lack of table manners on his ravenous hunger. He'd eaten four cans of the little herrings, one can of sardines, and a can of mackerel. Then he'd spied a can of pink salmon in Terri's wonderful little closet and had demolished it, too.
Now he discarded the empty cans in her garbage bin and cleaned up the mess he'd made. When he could make it back to his hidden cove, he'd have to repay her for all the food he'd consumed.
He washed his face and hands at her sink, then walked back into the living room. Her plate of uneaten pizza sat on the coffee table alongside her half-empty can of soda. He leaned closer, smiling at the tiny chuffing sounds she made in her sleep.
The robe she wore didn't cover enough of her bare skin. He grabbed an afghan from a nearby chair and draped it over her. Warmth flooded his chest, near choking him with a strange, almost tender emotion. How could that be? Less than five hours ago she'd not been a part of his life...and now...now she was.
He sat down in the lone recliner and watched the weather report on the Tee Vee. Somehow, the strange underwater storm had forced him hundreds of miles off course. His destination had been the new colony he'd heard about, north of Bodega Bay. Instead he'd swum beyond that, to the Oregon coast.
The skin on his injured thigh itched under the bandage. He picked at the tape that held it in place and slowly unwrapped the gauze. Smooth skin without a single mar or blemish. He glanced over at the sleeping woman on the couch. She must not see his thigh--at least not yet. She wouldn't understand.
He rewrapped the cloth, then turned off the Tee Vee with a yawn. A full belly made him sleepy. He walked to the sliding glass doors, opened them, and stepped onto the deck. Stars hung over the midnight sea, jewel bright.
Long ago, his mother had told him a story. Wishes on a falling star, made real...a magickal blessing from Manannán mac Lir, ruler of the Land Under Wave. The gift touched his ancestors--changed them. They would swim in two forms--as man, and as seal. Being magickal, they were long-lived. Their only enemies...sharks and humans.
The natives of this land had sensed the magick long ago, had honored it, respected it. Seals were hunted for meat and for their soft seal fur. Yet these native peoples knew the difference between, and the penalty for, harming one of his kind. Selkies took many as lovers, even marrying into certain tribes.
But these newest people were very different. They didn't trust or accept the magick. They killed indiscriminately. And those who suspected the truth, trapped his kind, stealing their caps, keeping them land-bound.
He heard the soft snores over the lapping waves, and thought of the little female inside. Of her generous nature, her mewling cries of pleasure...he'd taken her as a lover. Something about her called to him. Made him ache with tenderness, even as his cock twitched, nay, burned with the ache to thrust hard within her sweet depths.
Destin inhaled the salty mist from the sea, then returned to the house...to the woman named, of all things, Terri. Grounded on terra firm. A land-dweller yes, but one with a taste of fiery magick in her soul.
He lifted her into his arms and carried her into the bedroom. She blinked up at him and clutched at his neck. He laid her on the bed, then got in beside her, covering them both with the sheets and quilt.
"Go to sleep, aingeal."
"What did you just call me?"
"Angel." He turned to lie on his side and moved to wrap his arms around her waist. He pulled her against his chest, lowered his head to kiss the nape of her neck. "My angel."
"Hmm...nice," she mumbled, and closed her eyes.
He held her close, breathed in her scent, and dreamt he took Terri beneath the midnight seas to the magickal birthplace of his people, The Land Under Wave.
She swam beneath a midnight blue sea, her sleek body weaving in and out of the kelp sea beds. A huge seal chased her, playful as it nosed her thigh, then darted away. She broke the surface of the waves, snorting water and laughing at the same time. Another voice joined in, but it sounded more like the odd barking laughter of a seal.
Terri woke with a start and shook off the dream images. She glanced over her shoulder at the man behind her. He snored, one arm flung around her waist, and one hairy leg nudged between her own as he slept spoon-like, pressed against her back.
His thick lashes created shadows on the high ridge of his cheekbones. Women, she included, spent a fortune on mascara in the attempt to achieve what he had naturally. Figures.
She needed to get up, start her daily run along the beach. Maybe look for his missing ball cap, too, since it seemed so important to him. But when she tried to shift out of the bed, he pulled her back and pressed his lips to her ear lobe. Something much larger pressed her rump.
"Good morning, milis," he whispered in her ear. His hands glided over her breasts, cupping them.
"Milis?"
"Sweet." His mouth grazed her shoulder, while his thumbs and forefingers rolled her nipples.
"So I'm sweet, huh?" She wiggled backward.
"My sweet." His hands slid lower, to her hips, her thighs, and the delicious, sudden ache between her legs.
Okay, so her run would be a little late today. Sometimes you just had to go with the flow. She smiled, loving how he touched her. Destin instinctively zeroed in on another hot button on her body.
How could she feel so comfortable, so close to a man she'd just met? It felt right. He felt right. Like they'd been together forever, each knowing exactly how to please the other.
He guided one of her legs over his, and with a roll of his powerful hips, thrust--all the way to the hilt.
"Ohh..." She closed her eyes, and concentrated on the tight stretch of him inside her. He kept the strokes long, slow, and deep. A knotted coil of tension built at her core, forced her to squirm and push back harder against his cock.
"Touch yourself for me. I want to see your fingers glisten with your cream."
She did as he asked, her fingers parting her folds. And heard his loud groan of approval. Encouraged, she caught the nub of flesh between finger and thumb. She tugged--rubbed it faster, grinding her backside into his pelvis, desperate for release. She mewled like a cat in heat.
"Yes. Come for me, milis." He met her backward motion with a forward one of his own. Before long, he was slamming into her with near bruising force.
She couldn't think. She could only feel. The friction of her fingers on her clit. Her other fingers stroking his cock, as she caressed his slick shaft every time he pulled partially out.
Her sudden cry pierced the air. She shook from the intensity, then waves from the aftershock rushed over her. He slowed his rhythm, drawing a whimper from her trembling lips.
He took one of her hands, guided it to his mouth, and sucked each finger--tasting her essence--all the while pounding her pussy, seeking his own heavy release. Her internal muscles clenched hard on his cock, trembled at the continued invasion.
"Please...oh mercy..." she begged, not even aware of what she pleaded for.
He stopped, pulled out, turned her around so that she faced him, and gathered her into his arms. Tears rolled down her cheeks. She was a fool, an idiot. She didn't know why she was crying. He hadn't hurt her. On the contrary, he'd given her the most intense orgasm of her life.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, kissed him...leaned back, and smiled through her tears. He licked them away with the tip of his tongue, then carried her into the bathroom. He set her on her feet long enough to turn on the water in the shower. The room grew steamy.
"I'll try to be more gentle. But I still want you--need you--so damn bad." He shut the shower door, backed her onto the tiled wall, and reached for the bar of soap on the ledge.
"You don't have to go slow or be gentle. I want to feel it when you fuck me. Hard, fast--I just want you." She watched him shudder, his eyes darken and dilate.
He gave her the bar of soap. "Take me in your hands, Terri. Show me what pleases you."
"Spread your legs a little for me," she said. His offer had freed the wanton, little she-devil within. But could he take what she planned to dish out?
He obeyed, parting his legs, and leaning forward, bracing his forearms against the wall, on either side of her head. She ran a soapy hand across the muscled underside of his arm, and traced a finger over the strange tattoo she'd noticed the night before. She'd always thought most guys got tats on their biceps or chest, but this was almost hidden.
"What is this?"
"My mark. Sacred to my people."
"But what is it? It looks a little like a cross, but also kind of like a flower. It's pretty."
"Pretty? I'll have to remember that," he chuckled. "It's a Celtic knot. One that symbolizes transformation."
She rubbed her hands together, let them glide over his shoulders in a soapy slide down his chest and abdomen. Her fingers brushed the coarse hair that encircled his engorged cock. He drew in a sharp breath, a whisper of sound against her cheek, and leaned closer.
Her fingers wrapped around his thick shaft, gave it a loving squeeze. He moaned, jutted his hips.
"Like a right of passage, huh? Cool. It's unique--like you." She stroked him, cupped his balls.
He caught her lips with his, swallowed a groan deep in his throat. He took the soap from her, lathered his own hands, slid them over her breasts, and lower, to her already slick folds.
Her knees threatened to buckle under the teasing onslaught. "Ahh, fuck me! Please fuck me now!"
He tweaked her clit, slid a soapy finger inside her, then two.
"No...ohh...I need you to fill me up."
He grabbed her hips, lifted her, and impaled her on his thick shaft. She whimpered as the sweet, spiral ache of pleasure forced her to clutch his arms, arch her neck, and wrap her legs around his narrow hips.
Each savage thrust tugged on her clit. His teeth latched onto her neck, nipped at her, then licked away the small pain.
"Give me your breasts," he growled as he pounded into her, made her grind on the steel-like spike of his cock. Water trickled from her hair into her eyes. She blinked it away. Then she bit her lower lip and lifted her breasts up to his mouth. The edge of his teeth on her nipples pushed her over the waterfall cliff. It was too much.
She screamed, another climax ripped from her, as he grunted, pulled out and sprayed her belly with his seed. She slid down the wall, would have kept on sliding, if not for the large hands that reached out to catch her. She noticed he was none too steady on his own feet.
They finished their shower and stumbled out of the stall. She managed to grab a couple of towels before she collapsed on the bed.
She passed the larger bath towel to him as he fell onto the bed beside her. "You're amazing. Did you know that?"
"Of course."
She glanced over, saw his smirk. "Why am I not surprised?" What did surprise her was how she'd gotten so lucky. Of all the places for him to wash ashore... Then she recalled the reason he'd been on her small chunk of the Oregon coast.
"Your bandage is wet. We need to change it." She started to lift the soggy tape. He laid his hand over hers.
"I'll take care of that later." He carried her hand to his lips and kissed the back, then her palm.
"Stop that! I'm too tired for a rematch right now, and you seem to find my hot spots too easily!"
"Hot spots, hmm?"
"Nope. Not gonna happen. You behave yourself, stud." She jumped off the bed, snapped the towel toward him.
Not trusting him, she backed into the bathroom and shut the door. She had to catch her breath. My God. He's insatiable!
She brushed her teeth, dried her hair, all the while wondering about her passionate guest. Did she seriously think she could handle a man that...vigorous, for long? He had the stamina of a long-distance swimmer and the body of a Greek god.
Crave seemed too bland a word for the heady, drugging rush of need that his touch inspired. Could she hope to keep up with him? And how long before he got bored with her? The one thing she knew from her previous relationships with men was that his leaving was inevitable. All just a matter of when.
Quit being such a freakin' defeatist! Her friends constantly told her she didn't give herself enough credit. Maybe they were right.
When she came out of the bathroom, she held a packaged toothbrush.
"You can use this, it's unopened. I bought it in case I ever had a guest sleep over. You're my first."
She was unprepared for the odd glare he shot her.
Her first? Nay, first and last if he had any say! He took the brush from her hands, and went into the bathroom. Now was not the time to stake his claim on her. He needed to find his cap. See if he felt the same sense of completion with her after transformation...or if the emotion was a mere trick of passion, of sexual need. After all, the land-dwellers were known to use their lusty natures against his kind, cloud their minds with sexual hunger.
No doubt, Terri used well-practiced powers to seduce him, turn him into a lusting beast. She made him crave her touch and the silky grip of her wet heat.
He tore the package open, smeared the horrid minty paste on the toothbrush, and proceeded to rasp it across his teeth. Oyster, now that would be a good flavor. Only land-dwellers would use something as foul as peppermint--blech!
When he came out of the bathroom, he noticed she'd placed a pair of jeans, a shirt and socks on the bed with a note for him to try them on. Only the socks fit. The jeans were loose around the waist and ended far short of his feet. The arms on the shirt barely reached his wrists. The shirt also left a two-inch gap of tanned flesh showing.
He heard two voices coming from the living room, one belonged to Terri, the other he didn't know. He opened the door and sniffed the air. Another male was in Terri's house. He went to meet his possible competition.
A soon as he walked into the room, he scented the lingering aroma of the Fae, and recognized the man as a fellow selkie--a bull-seal! Fierce determination filled him. He would meet the challenge head-on.
"Destin." Terri touched his arm, and guided him to the man sitting in the over-stuffed recliner.
The man stood, eyes taking his measure. His gaze narrowed in warning.
::Down, pup! She is my great niece.:: The thought came through loud and clear.
"Uncle Roanan, this is Destin." She smiled, her hand lingering on his arm.
"How can this be?" Destin looked from the older man to Terri and back again.
::Not aloud, pup! I know you can hear me.::
::She is not selkie. I would have known, sensed it when we first met!::
::I married Terri's great-aunt long ago. Left my kin for life and happiness on land. Terri is a kind girl. I would not look favorably on any who would hurt her.::
"Is something wrong?" Terri asked, just as the doorbell rang. "Oops, sounds like more company." She excused herself and went to answer the door.
"Does she know what you are?" Destin's mind spun at the unexpected news.
"No more than she probably realizes what you are. Are you going to tell her?"
"Did you tell her great-aunt? Would she not give back your sealskin cap?"
"Assuming a lot, aren't you? Not all land-folk are bad. My wife knew what I was from the first and never tried to steal my cap. I had the choice and I stayed."
"And the sea doesn't call you?"
Terri came back into the room before the older man could answer. Behind her was another female. Destin reached out with his senses toward the new presence in the room. She was different, her scent strong of the sea.
"Uncle Roanan, you remember my friend Jill, right?"
Her uncle took the young woman's hand, bowed over it gallantly, and kissed her knuckles.
::Do not think to start a harem here, pup. This is my colony, such as it is.::
::I wasna. I only wanted to know if Terri's friend was born of the sea magick. Some can mask the scent and taste of their power.::
He'd met the ruling class of merfolk, the Undines, before, and wondered at their ability to hide their true nature so well. To blend in with humans so easily, and not be forced to worry over a missing bit of seal fur.
"Nice to meet you again, my dear." The older male stepped back.
::Your senses don't lie. She is not what she seems. What she is, however, I'm less sure.::
"And this is Destin. I met him last night." Terri introduced him to her friend.
::Very fast work, pup. Congratulations. Break her heart, though, and I'll feed you to the sharks. Piece by piece.::
"Destin, this is my friend, Jill."
"Hello, Jill." Not to be outdone by the selkie bull-elder, he took the woman's hand, bowed over it, then shot a look over her shoulder at Terri's uncle.
::I'd bite out the throat of anyone who thought to harm her, elder. And I already met my fate with a shark yesterday. Did she not tell you how we met?::
::Aye. Terri told me. Why do you think I suggested that particular threat?::
"Destin. You can let go of her hand now." A thread of annoyance, perhaps even jealousy, laced Terri's voice.
He released Jill's hand and stepped away.
"I love your name. It sounds almost like destiny," Jill said
"Bimbo."
Destin glanced over at Terri. She covered her mouth, coughed.
"Jumbo. I have jumbo biscuits--I thought I'd fix breakfast. Eggs, biscuits, bacon. Sound good?" Terri glanced at the wall clock and amended, "Well, I guess it'd be more like brunch? Uncle Roanan, can you stay?"
"I'd love to. Thank you, my dear."
"I wouldn't mind a bite. Always up for something tasty. Thanks," Jill said, a teasing smile on her face. She eyed Destin with speculation--and not-so-teasing hunger. "So, I guess I really should have made it to that workshop last night."
"I didn't meet him at the workshop. I was just telling Uncle Roanan the story. Destin was swimming and got attacked by a shark. He washed ashore, and I found him passed out behind the house."
"Oh! You poor thing!" Jill reached out to stroke his forearm. Her hand felt rough against his skin.
Terri cleared her throat. "Yes, well...I called an ambulance and they came out, but he wouldn't go to the hospital. They said to keep an eye on him, and he had nowhere else to go..."
She went into the kitchen and got out two extra glasses for her guests.
"So you kept him. Hmm, I don't suppose there are any more like you out in the sea?" Jill asked, licking her lips like a cat.
Terri coughed. "Slut."
Destin worried over that odd cough, but answered Jill. "No." More than you might suspect.
"Terri?" Roanan's eyes were twinkling in mirth.
"Soda okay?" She handed Jill and her uncle their drinks.
::Oh, by the way, those are my old work clothes you're wearing, pup. She must have found them in the utility room. I'll not want them back, but they don't exactly fit you well. You need to have the girls take you shopping.::
::I must search for my cap--I lost it on the beach last night. I've delayed too long as it is.::
"Count me out of any shopping trips. I'll leave that to those younger who enjoy it. I might comb the beach instead, try to add to my sea glass collection," Roanan said to the group.
"Uncle Roanan, you could help Destin by looking for his lost clothing, and his cap, uh--baseball cap while you're looking for sea glass."
"A cap, you say?" Jill sat forward. "I hope you find it, Destin."
::Baseball cap?::
::She misunderstood. Thinks my missing cap is a baseball cap. Should you find it, you will give it to me.::
"I'd be delighted to help, my dear. Never know what one can find on the rocks below." The elder winked at his niece, grinned at the faint blush that spread over her sweet face, then cast Destin a dark look.
::No need to take that "tone" with me, pup! I'd not withhold your cap.::
Destin apologized with a thought and tried to be patient. He sat on the sofa across from Terri's uncle, gazed out the sliding glass doors of the deck, and wondered just how long it would be before he could excuse himself and go look for his cap.
An hour later, after they ate, Terri and Jill took him shopping. The two females claimed a friendship, but it seemed to him to be an odd one. Every time Jill used some excuse to touch him, Terri's eyes would burn and that nasty cough of hers would start again. He decided he would ask Terri to see a doctor if it persisted.
When they got back from shopping, he went in search of Roanan and found him farther down the beach. The elder stood from his bent position and greeted him.
"I see you survived the ordeal."
"Barely. Jill just left, and Terri is back at the house, making a space for my new clothes."
"A space, hmm? Sounds as though she believes you're planning to stay. Are you?"
"I have no where else to go at the moment." He climbed onto an outcropping of rocks.
"A bachelor then? I figured as much."
"Can I ask you a question?" he asked the older and, hopefully, wiser selkie.
"Of course."
"You loved your wife. But she couldn't follow you to sea. Didn't that bother you? Or her?"
"It did. But she knew I would return. I never left her for very long. I couldn't." The older man smiled and picked up a bit of green sea glass wedged between the rocks. "Nena's call to me was every bit as powerful as the sea's. I built this home with my own two hands, so I could have everything I loved close."
"Yet you both moved away, left this place for Terri."
::No. I moved away. After Nena died, the memories...::
"I'm sorry, I didn't know. It's none of my business."
He watched the elder visibly pull himself together. Selkies lived so very long. Longer than humans. Their lifespan only one of their many magickal gifts.
Destin knew he cared for Terri, sensed with time the feeling would grow stronger. He could build a new life here, one with her. He tired of being the bachelor, subsiding on the fringes of other's lives--a part of the colony, and yet apart. It was one of the reasons he'd left his old home in search of a new colony. And though he'd only just met Terri, he felt as if he'd known her, loved her a lifetime. Still, he knew it was simply too soon.
"If you stay, you'll eventually meet the rest of the family. I do hope to be on hand for that. Especially when you meet Doreen, Terri's mother. Should be quite a lot of fun."
"Why is that?"
"I think I'll let you find out for yourself." The old bull seal barked with laughter.
Terri cleared two drawers in her dresser for some of Destin's things. She also hung some of his new pants and shirts in the closet. She'd always known her uncle was a generous man, but when he'd pulled her aside before she left, and placed a wad of money in her hand, she'd been surprised. She didn't get the impression he'd liked Destin all that much.
Destin had promised to pay her back for the clothes and toiletries. When she explained the purchases weren't made with her money, but her uncle's, Destin had smiled kind of funny and said something in that strange language of his.
Terri poked her head around the sliding glass door. No sign of either Destin or her uncle.
She stepped out onto the deck for a better look, and saw Destin on the other side of the jetties. He squatted, holding a small bundle of clothes. Only a few feet away, sat a gray hooded seal.
Seals, like any wild creature, could become dangerous without warning. She bit her lower lip and wondered what to do. Destin was too close to the thing. Within attack range. And the animal was big.
If she yelled out, it might startle the creature and cause the very thing she wanted to avoid. As she continued to watch, her sense of helplessness and indecision gave way to wonder. Destin nodded his head, as if he and the animal were talking. The beast then raised a flipper and waved, before it turned back out to sea.
She hugged herself, a weird chill in the air. Goosebumps raised on her arms. She shivered and waited. For what, she couldn't say. Destin placed the bundle of clothing in a large, zippered, plastic bag he pulled from his jeans pocket. He hid the bag of clothes under an outcropping of rocks and stood.
Beyond odd didn't begin to cover what she'd seen. Why would he take his clothes and--no wait! Not his new clothes she'd just bought--she'd gotten everything out of the trunk of Jill's car and put all of it away herself. He still wore her uncle's discarded things. So whose clothes were they? Mind rampant, inconceivable answers flashed in her head.
She went back inside the house to think. And where the heck had her uncle got to? She wished he'd come back. She knew he could put her mind at ease. Figure out a simple solution.
The phone rang and she jumped, startled. A quick glance at caller ID showed it was her mother.
"Mom. Now is not a--"
"Shh. Listen first. Jill stopped by to bring me something. I think you need to come over here right away. Bring your new friend, and Uncle Roanan, too."
"Jill brought you something? I don't--"
"We have his cap, Terri. It was our circle's call to the elements that brought him to you."
"What? You're not making any--"
"Until Jill called, I didn't know for sure. Plan to be here in an hour. I'll explain more when I see you."
"Why would Jill call you? And Uncle Roanan isn't--" Her mother hung up. "...here."
"For once I wish my mother made sense!"
"Is something wrong?" Destin stood in the open doorway.
"We've been summoned. And Uncle Roanan, too."
"I don't understand? Terri?"
"No need to keep searching for your baseball cap. Although why it's such a big deal I don't know."
"You found it?"
"No. Apparently Jill did, and she gave it to my mother. She wants to see us in an hour." She ran her fingers through her hair, took a deep breath, and wondered exactly how to explain the quirkiness of her family.
"I could use a drink." She rummaged in the fridge and pulled out a beer for Destin and a root beer for herself. She pulled the tab and tapped the side of her soda can to his beer. "Cheers." She let the fizz slide down her throat, and tried not to worry about the weirdness awaiting them at her mother's house.
Later, as they drove up the coast highway, she turned on the heater in her SUV and looked over at Destin. She'd handwritten a message for her uncle to find if he came back to the house, and then she'd grabbed her purse and the man beside her. He looked as befuddled as she often felt when dealing with her family.
She let out a deep sigh. The only normal one was uncle Roanan. "I need to explain something first. I'm just not exactly sure how."
"You are agitated and aggravated. I sense it. If I am somehow the cause, I apologize. I would not wish to inconvenience you. Or upset your family in any way."
"Something tells me it's you who'll be upset with them." She exited the freeway and merged into city traffic. "My mother was raised by her aunts, Nena and Chloe, after her parents died. They were spinsters, you know, maiden aunts. Then Nena met my uncle Roanan and they married. I think Mom was about ten or twelve at the time." She glanced at Destin, to see if he was listening.
"Anyway, Aunt Chloe was into a lot of paranormal stuff, like witchcraft. She influenced mom a lot, since it was just the two of them after Aunt Nena moved out. I kind of think Aunt Nena dabbled, too, but before she met Uncle Roanan."
She blew out a deep breath. "I guess what I'm trying to say is that my mother is a witch. She even has a coven she calls a circle. They get together for other stuff, too. They have bunco nights, nights where they all go to the movies, or get together for fun. But they also do witchy things. Mostly on full moons and on certain holidays.
"I mean, they're pretty harmless and all, and I know she means well, and always has good intentions. It's a pain in the butt sometimes, you know? And...well, this is going to sound weird, but there are times...all I'm saying is it can get a little freaky."
"Are you a witch, then, Terri?"
"No. Mom wanted me to follow in her footsteps, but it's not for me, you know? Not my type of thing."
"Your mother loves you very much I imagine." He paused and a light entered his eyes. "And your mother has my cap. I begin to see. You think she might try something freaky and this time it might work. I think perhaps we should have brought your Uncle Roanan."
"Yeah. I think so, too."
Destin eyed the large water fountain encircled with sea glass and volcanic rock. A sculpture of Neptune, trident in hand, cast his shadow over the playful figures of two frolicking mermaids. He noticed that the mythological King of the Seas bore a striking resemblance to Manannán mac Lir, ruler of the Land Under Wave. One of the mermaids petted a porpoise, who spat water from its mouth in a constant stream.
He heard Terri knock on the door again. Finally, an older woman wearing a black dress opened the door. He studied her features and decided she could not be Terri's mother.
He followed, as the woman waved them inside. This house was much bigger than Roanan's old home overlooking the jetties.
Everywhere he looked he saw symbols of the sea. From the seashell designed tile inlay on the floors, to the ceiling mural in the foyer, to the water fountain he'd been admiring minutes ago in the center of the circular driveway.
Glass cases displayed large, colorful seashells from all the oceans of the world. The woman opened a set of double doors and bid them enter, then backed away, leaving them alone.
"You never mentioned your mother's fascination with the sea." His belly tightened.
"Oh, it's not Mom. It's Dad. He loved the sea. Still does. He has a house in Bermuda. That's where he's originally from, and where he lives now. Mom managed to get this house in the divorce settlement a few years back."
"They are no longer together? I am sorry. That must have been hard on you."
"Damn hard on me, too, young man."
He swung around at the sound of the voice. What he expected, he wasn't sure, but she didn't have the look of an elder, or a witch. She looked, in fact, not much older than Terri. He would have thought her an older sister.
"Doreen Fletcher. And your name is?" She reached out to shake his hand. When he hesitated, she smiled brightly. The light did not reach her eyes.
"I see my reputation proceeds me."
"Forgive me. But you look too young to be Terri's mother. It took me aback. I am Destin MacCodrum of the Shining Seas."
"A MacCodrum, you say? I once knew a Liam MacCodrum."
"My father."
"An excellent warrior. You are forgiven, pup."
He shot a glance at Terri. Had she heard what her mother called him? Did she understand what it meant? He drew a shaky breath, his belly twisting now in anxiety.
"Mind telling me what this is all about?" Terri confronted her mother, her hands on her hip in a defiant stance.
"Your friend Jill, and I use the term lightly, called to tell me all about your latest man. Said she'd found something interesting underneath the steps of the beach house."
"Where is it?" He took a step forward.
"In time. I do plan to give it back to you." She paused, tapped her forehead with one finger. "Ah, now where was I?"
"Mom, I don't think you know what you're dealing with. I can only help you..."
"No, dear, you are the one who doesn't know what you are involved with." Her mother pointed at him. "Do you think it was a coincidence he washed ashore on your beach?"
"He was attacked by a shark. He's lucky to be alive."
"Tell me, young man, did you notice anything unusual about the shark that attacked you?"
"Nay. But there was a strange storm under the waves. It took me far from my course."
"The storms were magick. A seek spell to find you."
"Why? Ye met me but a minute ago?" He fought to control the rising anger and tension that filled him.
"Not you precisely. My daughter needed a sea warrior, a guardian--better yet if that male is her mate. There is no better warrior or protector than your kind."
"Then you have a purpose bringing me here, beyond gifting me with your daughter's sweet body?"
"Destin! That's a private thing supposed to be between us. Besides, I'm nobody's gift!"
Her mother's lips curved in an amused smile. "I thought the same thing when she turned two and my precious little gift turned into a hellion." She stepped forward, toward him. "She will be your responsibility. To protect, to care for and to love...if you want your cap back?"
"Mom, have you been drinking? People don't--"
"I do." He interrupted her, and could only hope she would forgive him.
"Then you make the vow and know the cost?" Her mother tilted her head, studying him.
"Aye. I will. By my clan do I pledge, and by Manannán mac Lir, himself! " He looked from the older woman to Terri and saw her stunned look.
"Then it is done. By the laws of old, you are bound together. Protect her well."
"Umm, excuse me, but I don't need anyone to take care of me." Terri turned her attention back to her mother. "And you can't just give me away! Don't I get a say in this? What am I saying, this isn't binding. No paperwork, no minister, no wedding."
"I honor the bargain and the pledge made," Terri's mother said as she walked over to a framed painting of a seascape. She held out her right hand, palm up to the surface and whispered the words:
"By wind, by rain, by crested wave,
by sunlight's shining rays,
I draw forth
the ocean's mysteries,
Is ann aig na roin tha brath!"
Doreen Fletcher reached into the painting, her hand swallowed by cloudy skies and storm tossed seas, and removed a circular pelt of smooth black seal fur.
He heard a gasp of disbelief come from behind him.
Cords hung from either side of the pelt. She turned, walked back to him and held it out for him to take.
"Your cap, Destin MacCodrum."
"I thank ye, witch."
"A word of advice before you go. Formorians are plotting against the Undine king. The eldest girl has gone missing, and the high court may think to appease the sharks. A halfling princess would serve their purpose." She watched as her daughter walked past them to touch the painting, wide eyed in disbelief. "The seas near my ex-husband's home are in turmoil."
He looked at his new mate in awe, even as a healthy dose of fear for her squeezed his heart. "I understand." If they saw a way to use her, the Undine court would happily drag Terri into their mess.
"I would ask how you came by this news?"
Doreen Fletcher smiled at him. "A witch has many eyes, pup." She closed the gap between herself and her daughter.
"Jill is not your friend, Terri. She knew full well what the cap was when she found it. She only brought it to me because she wanted to learn earth magick and thought I would train her in exchange for the seal skin cap.
"But I knew what she really was. Anyone who looked close enough could see. She had cold, dead eyes. Like a shark."
"Mom, you know I love you. But I think you need to go back on your medication, because none of this makes any sense." She lifted the picture off the hanger, rapped on the drywall behind it. "Hell, maybe I'm the one who needs medication."
"Destin is perfect for you, I hope you realize that." She leaned forward to whisper in her daughter's ear. "He looks like he'd be hot in the sack."
Heat flushed Terri's cheeks. "Mom!"
The older woman cackled with glee. "Now you two go on. I need time to make all the arrangements. I think a wedding by the ocean will be lovely!"
"Well, that was completely surreal."
She really liked Destin. And now he knew her family tree had nuts. It wasn't fair! This time she hadn't even made it to the relationship stage. He'd obviously been humoring her mother. Even going as far as to agree to marry her daughter. A woman he'd known a smidgeon over twenty-four hours. Totally ludicrous!
He hadn't said a word since they'd left her mother's house. He'd simply sat there, in obvious shock. She'd already apologized for her mother's strange behavior, and her family in general. What more could she say? She'd grown used to the bizarre three-ring circus that was her family. Thank goodness he'd missed meeting her Aunt Chloe. Time for that later if she could salvage anything from their half-started affair.
"Look, don't pay attention to what she said. I mean, no one will hold you to any promise made. I know you were just humoring her because she's my mother, and because I helped you out when you were hurt. So, like, we're even. Okay?" She pulled into the drive in front of her house and cut the engine.
"I made a sacred vow. One I plan to keep."
"But--"
"No. I have something I want you to see."
"Destin, you can't really be serious?"
He answered by leaning over to kiss her lips. "Come on." He got out, walked around the side of her house, past her deck, and down to the beach below.
Night hugged the horizon amid a blanket of star. She could hear the waves roll onto the shore in a lullaby. He stopped a few feet in front of her, the odd little fur cap clutched in his hands.
"No matter what you see, I want you to know that I am real. Magick is real. And what I feel for you is real." Destin placed the cap on top of his head and tied the thin cords like straps, under his chin.
He looked a little ridiculous. Then he stripped stark naked. Well, that was an improvement. The man had a killer body. He turned to stride bare-assed into the water. Damn, what a sight! So he was a bit eccentric. Liked to skinny dip in the sea. Big deal.
She watched him stand in the shallows, then he seemed to melt...blur. He ducked his sleek black head of hair under the water...and disappeared. She ran to the water's edge.
"Destin! It's too dangerous to be in the water at night. Come on out, Destin!"
She heard a huge splash to her left and swung to see a large black seal slapping at the water. Oh, God, she knew they looked harmless, even cute, but they were wild animals and could be aggressive if provoked.
"Destin! Please get out of the water!" She tried to spot his head over the small waves. The huge seal surged from the ocean and flopped onto the beach. It shook like a dog, water flying from its big body in every direction.
The seal moved those powerful neck muscles, looked around, as if searching for something. The thing charged down the hard-packed sand, directly at her! She tried to run, but her slingback heels weren't designed for running in wet sand. She fell and twisted her ankle.
Where the hell was Destin! Oh, God, she admitted it. Her mother was right...she needed him to protect her. She cried out for help. The seal would attack any minute. Her uncle would probably be the one to find her bitten-up body, lying here dead.
The animal stopped just shy of her, leaned closer to sniff her head with its whiskered muzzle. They really were beautiful, majestic creatures. Maybe she should play dead?
She closed her eyes, tried to force her body to relax.
A flipper pushed on her arm. The massive body pressed next to her. She'd have to crawl away since she couldn't stand. She opened her eyes...and saw the seal's features melt, reshape and reform. Seal fur into tanned flesh, black snout into masculine lips and a long, narrow nose. Only the eyes looked the same. Deep, black, penetrating.
Tears marked tracks on her cheeks. "Destin?"
"Are you all right, my sweet? What happened?" He took her in his arms to comfort her.
"Where did the seal go?"
He tapped his chest. "Here." He wiped away her tears with his fingers.
"That can't be! You're--"
"A selkie. Half-human, half-seal. My people have the gift of transformation."
"Like in folklore? Myths?"
He nodded.
"A selkie..." Her mind whirled. "They are supposed to have incredible stamina, be insatiable lovers."
"Not all legends are myth. Some are very real." He stroked her face with tender hands and leaned in to take her mouth. Those same gentle hands now moved with increasing speed to remove her clothes. When she lay bare beneath his touch, he rolled on top of her, positioned himself and surged inside her depths.
Sea mist sprayed them as their bodies joined in a rhythm old as the tides. He angled his thrusts, pounded into her. The lapping waves tickled her toes. She wiggled, arching her hips. He flipped them over so that she was on top, riding him.
He filled her so completely in this position, her astride him, grinding down on the big cock that impaled her. She slid up and down on that magnificent pole, and cried out when he found her clit with his thumb.
"Destin, you feel so good inside me...ahh..."
He met her downward motion with his thrusting hips, one hand cupped a breast, the other buried between her nether lips, stroking her wet clit. She whimpered and then cried out as the orgasm rolled over her. Once more she found herself repositioned, this time on her knees. His hands bit into the globes of her cheeks, holding her steady for his cock. He sank into her pussy, stroked her until the roar of the ocean and his own roar of completion melded into one glorious sound.
They both collapsed on the wet sand. After their breathing returned to normal, he turned to her. "I vow to love you, protect you, and if need be, give my life for yours. Happily. Willingly. Forever." He looked very solemn and sincere--her man of the sea.
"You're just saying that 'cause you got some," she teased him, sliding her hand between his legs and fondling the thick shaft already beginning to grow at her touch.
"Maybe. I suppose then you'll need to always keep me satisfied." He reached up, pulled her mouth down to his for a quick kiss.
"Sounds like a long-term commitment."
"It is."
She tightened her grip. "Lots of hard work." She stroked him from the base of his cock to the glistening wet tip.
"I can guarantee it'll be hard."
"Can't wait to get started." She wrapped her left hand in his hair and tugged. Brought his face down to hers. "One thing first. Let's go home. Making love on the beach is sexy and romantic, but the sand--not so much."
His bark of laughter carried on the waves, to another seal, off in the distance...who grinned, just like a human.
Cassandra Curtis started her writing career in grade school. She would illustrate and write colorful stories using magic markers, crayons and sheets from her alphabet tablet, and sell them to other school kids for a penny. While the venture didn't make a lot of fast money, it did mean she could indulge her love of comic books and not spend summers behind a lemonade stand with her sisters.
She spent her formative years traveling the globe with her parents, learning a smattering of languages--usually just enough to get her in trouble. After college, she worked as a reporter and photojournalist at a weekly paper, then a daily, while continuing her love of art. Ms. Curtis now writes fiction full-time.
An avid gardener and wildlife enthusiast, she enjoys the magick found in nature. Her interests include: art, antiques, astronomy, folklore, mythology, genealogy, music, eastern philosophy and collecting magickal artifacts. A member of both the World Romance Writers, and Romance Divas, Ms. Curtis won the 2006 Amber Quill Press Heat Wave Contest with her story Cup of Fate. She lives in the magickal land of bluegrass known as Kentucky.
You can learn more about Cassandra by visiting her website: http://cassandracurtis.com 
available at AmberHeat.com!
Can one woman find true love in tea leaves? Or is it a tempest in a teacup?
Bryn Tuttle lost everything due to her bad taste in men. Now she's starting over fresh. In the misty bluegrass hills of Kentucky, she finds a new job, apartment and friends. When a co-worker invites her yard-sale shopping one weekend, she decides to tag along, never realizing fate has something else in store.
They discover a rare item--a mysterious, antique, fortune-telling teacup. Bryn never suspects that a single sip from the Cup of Fate will change her life, that her future is actually linked to the tea leaves that cling inside. But when she drinks from the cup and next awakens, she soon comprehends that nothing will ever be the same...
In Both Print And Electronic Formats
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