Getting Lucky [Sisters of Silverwood Book 1] Read online

  Curious, she got up and wandered into the bathroom. She admired the brushed metal fixtures, then turned to her reflection. “Holy crap!” Unruly was a mild term. Her hair was wild. Henry's fingers had obviously danced along her scalp, leaving a wake of knots and backcombed snarls. Wincing, she began to work a comb through it, taming the most obvious of the snarls. She could hear two men speaking in the other room. When Henry's tone rose in irritation, she decided to abandon her toilette. The argument was being enacted in the centre of the room, a couch to either side of them, and she heard the fateful sentence.

  "She is not for you. She was never meant for you,” Henry growled.

  "That should be her choice now, shouldn't it? She needs to see us side by side to make her final decision."

  It was the bastard golden goober from the poker game. He was standing across from Henry with bald confidence. Henry's face, however, lit with panic as Westa made her way into the room.

  "Lucky, are you all right?"

  She was shaking with rage as she headed to them. Only Henry's smooth manoeuvre blocked her from grabbing the bastard. The dark surround that she had first felt in the alley wrapped her again as Henry held her in his arms. It was magic, pure and simple magic.

  "She wants me, Inlough, there is no denying it. You may as well give up.” Smug and oily, his voice laughed at her.

  She scrambled against her protector, fighting to get at the jerk that had almost cost her her life.

  "You cannot have her, Tamsin. She is not for you.” He echoed his earlier sentence as he tried to calm her. It took ridiculously little effort for Henry to subdue her, which made him able to converse with the other man as calmly as if they were discussing the weather.

  "I beg to differ. She wants me. She could not keep her eyes off me the entire poker game.” The smug bastard moved past them and onto the couch.

  Henry sighed and loosened his grip.

  Westa squirmed lightly against him, but she still was going nowhere. “Dude, the only two reasons that I was looking at you during the game was that you were seated directly across from me, and you have a tremendously expressive face."

  Henry began to chuckle as he caught the gist of her statement. “How much did he lose?"

  Now it was her turn to be smug. “About seven thousand."

  "He was that bad?"

  Henry's voice hummed through her as he lowered his head until his lips brushed her ear. It brought back the flaring sensations that she had been enjoying when Tamsin knocked on the door. “No, I am that good.” She relaxed in his arms and his grip on her wrists loosened until he held both her arms in one hand.

  "You certainly are, Westa.” Taunting their audience, Henry trailed his lips down her neck and used his free hand to brush her hair out of the way.

  She leaned back against him and tilted her head to encourage him. Meanwhile, she tried to irritate their guest. “I don't believe we were formally introduced. My name is Westa Lucidine. My friends call me Lucky, but you are not my friend.” She sighed as the soft touch of lips across her shoulder made a pulse begin deep inside.

  "My name is Tamsin and I am an elf of the golden court. I am here to pledge my eternal devotion to you as well as my body and magic.” He knelt in front of her and tried to take one of her hands in his own.

  Unfortunately for him, Henry had freed her hands and she was now using them to grip his thighs to pull him into her as she let him have free reign of her body. “Nice to meet you. Not interested. Bye now.” She turned in Henry's embrace and locked her lips to his. They were slowly twisting together when the slamming of a door distracted them.

  She broke off the kiss for a moment. “Huh, he left. We had better chain the door.” A flick of his fingers and a shadow flew to latch the door. It was the first time she had seen anything resembling real magic and she promised herself that she would make him give some more demonstrations later. Much later.

  At the moment, she had more pressing concerns. The concern she was interested in was pressing against her belly right now. “Henry, we need a bed. Now.” She could hear fabric tearing and, when she felt skin under her hands, she knew that her nails were stronger than they looked.

  He leaned toward her and bent her backward. She smiled against his mouth as the firm mattress supported her back. He had waltzed her in here while they were making out and she hadn't even noticed.

  She felt the air on her ribs as he slid her t-shirt up to catch under her arms. A sharp tug and her bra had moved over her breasts and left them exposed to his mouth. As his lips fastened on her right nipple and he lapped at it with his tongue, her thighs shifted together and she almost unmanned him.

  "You are a surprisingly dangerous woman, Westa. I think we had better divest you of your weaponry.” He carefully pulled her t-shirt over her head and folded it as he put it aside, then reached under her arched back to loosen her bra. That was slipped off her arms with no loss of life. Her jeans didn't fight him, but her sneakers did. Her shoes knotted themselves until he was forced to slip them off her heels. “I'll untie them in the morning."

  As the socks flew to freedom, she was left wearing only a sensible set of cotton panties that moved off her at his touch as if coated with Teflon. Nude and a little self-conscious she moved back until seated against the padded headboard and watched his own unveiling.

  Her nails had made their way into his skin as the red welts showed. His shirt was a ruin of silk and it came apart in his hands. His jeans slid off and his shoes had disappeared before she had gotten up the nerve to start watching him.

  "You are lovely, Lucky. All ivory and satin skin."

  She tried to reply, but her mouth simply opened, then snapped shut. Witty repartee in this kind of situation was not a skill she possessed. He seemed to understand and moved onto the bed, moving with a slow catlike crawl that had his impressive erection nudging between her thighs and his back arching so that he could give her a kiss.

  Another sudden wave of shyness made her duck her head and place tender, affectionate kisses upon the scratches that she had left on his shoulders. She flicked her tongue out to touch the abraded skin and was rewarded with his groan of reaction. His fingers were caressing her from shoulder to hip, collarbone to thigh and back again. She relaxed under his touch and her thighs moved apart an inch. His hips took advantage of her shift and soon, the head of his cock was lodged at her entrance.

  It was the slowest penetration she had ever heard of. He kissed, licked and touched every part of her while inching ever so slowly into her. She locked her ankles behind his butt and tried to pull him in faster, but it wasn't working. She twisted her hips against him and attempted to corkscrew herself. That one was pointless as well. He was proceeding at his pace and nothing she could say or do would speed him up. She simply had to enjoy the slowest fuck of all time.

  After what seemed like hours, he was firmly buried inside her. He lowered his face to hers and they enjoyed a sweet kiss that moved into a ravenous ravaging as she grabbed his hair to hold him in place and used her tongue to tease and torment his mouth. As she snarled at him, his hips bucked against her and she came, a shuddering release of tension that had built since she met him.

  Her nails dug into his back and she held him to her as her body continued to shudder around him. Gasping with relief, tears in her eyes, she only had one thing to say as she met his smug gaze. “Again.” That one word made lust flare and lit the blue of his eyes with an unholy purpose.

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  Chapter Six

  Writhing in the sheets until the wee hours of the morning, they tried over a dozen positions and Westa learned a thing or two. The first was that she really liked the reverse cowgirl position, the second was that she was hanging around with a guy who only came twice in an eight hour period, and yet he never seemed to be in a hurry.

  When she opened her eyes there were a few things that she had to reflect on. She would have called his stamina almost supernatural, except he was. Sadly, sh
e wasn't and she was sore. Really sore. She was also sticky, really sticky. She had come more times than she could count with him under, over and in her, and her body was telling her she was really out of practice. She remembered when, true to his word, he had moved to get up to sleep on the couch, how she grabbed his hand and kept him in the bed.

  Henry's warm breath moved across her shoulder and he kissed the sensitive spot between neck and shoulder, then licked gently at the spot his teeth had marked during one of their couplings. When his hand moved between her thighs, it was all the drive she needed. With lightening speed, she rolled out of his reach and ended up on the floor.

  "Uh, Henry. I hate to say this. I mean really hate to say this, but I am way too sore for anymore fun and games. Not to mention sweaty and sticky.” The way she had landed left her wrapped in the covers and Henry gloriously naked. Naked and aroused.

  She had discovered last night that the scar running down his face continued on his chest and narrowly missed the inside of his thigh. Whoever had attacked him had meant business. Her lips tingled as she remembered tracing the path of that scar with her tongue during the night.

  Westa cursed the frailty of her body as that one memory managed to trigger a flood of moisture that relieved the sore throb of her channel. His uncircumcised penis had definitely been interested in morning activity and the sweet drop of moisture at the tip made it look like it was crying at her rejection of its overtures.

  "Are you comfortable down there or would you like me to help you into the shower?"

  "Well, I have to admit that the view is lovely.” His cock twitched in reaction to her words and she smiled. “But you are right, a shower is probably what I need.” A bath would relax her, but her muscles would be in no shape to move at all after it. A shower was best.

  In a mere breath, speed belied size as he leapt from the bed and instantly knelt beside her. He grinned at her and scooped her up from the floor, bedding and all. She was trapped in a cocoon that was scented with sweat and sex. Not a terrible thing, but it was getting to be a little musky. He deposited her on the lid of the toilet and brought the temperature of the shower up to tolerable. When it was ready, he peeled her out of her wrap and lifted her into the shower.

  "Put your hands on the wall. I'll take care of the bathing."

  He helped her take up a frisking pose against one wall of the shower and began to slowly lather her up. In more ways than one. His hands took their sweet time on her shoulders and hips, lathering up her thighs and calves with a devotion to the purpose that was admirable considering the prodding she could feel at random moments as he took care the side facing him.

  He shifted her gently to rinse her back, buttocks and legs, then began his careful cleansing of her front. Her nipples hardened under the slick and foamy strokes, she shuddered as he moved his hands down her belly, then skimmed aside to run down the front of her legs.

  "Lean your head back."

  She did and was rewarded by a torrent of heated water sluicing through the elf-locked hair that he had created the afternoon and night before. It untangled under his touch and he shampooed it for her, then used a conditioner to bring it back to its normal appearance. She pushed back with her hands and he washed her face as it was pelted by the slick torrent of water.

  "Alright sweetie, head forward and back to the wall. I don't want you to move your hands or feet one inch, all right?"

  She nodded in assent and waited for whatever he had planned next. There was only one part of her left uncurbed and it was bound to drive her nuts waiting for him to touch her between her thighs.

  His hands on her hips made her jump slightly, a shiver and a shake, as he drew slow circles on her flesh with his palms. The soap made his touch glide across her as he inched forward until his hands were flat on her belly, framing her navel. That was the moment when his erection lodged between her legs and he began to rub his cock between her thighs with a slow and deliberate motion matched by his hands on her belly.

  Her blood was pounding so hard in her ears that she didn't hear herself moan. His fingers finally slid between her thighs to give her a cleansing so thorough that she had the irreverent idea that he could eat off her. If she wasn't still sore, she would invite him to do just that.

  Each time his rough fingers grazed her clit, she jumped. By the time his cock had begun an insistent pounding, she was rising on her toes and pushing back with each rock of his hips. His fingers circled her clit rapidly and she squeaked as her release overtook her, binding her muscles and locking her thighs around Henry's cock as hard as she was able. The shot of cum and the harsh roar that emanated from him gave her a weak sense of satisfaction. As her muscles relaxed, she leaned heavily against the wall. “If this is what you do in the shower, remind me never to take a bath with you."

  He chuckled and kissed the back of her neck. “I promise to not never not remind you."

  Before she could sort that one out, he had turned off the shower and wrapped her in a fluffy towel. She was dried in a few minutes, with only minor tickling, and was off to waddle into the bedroom and find her street clothes in moments. She winced at the sight of the bed and the wrecked sheets. Housekeeping was going to have a hairy fit when they saw it.

  Henry finished towelling off and wandered back into the bedroom, his erection mercifully sated for the time being.

  "I hope you leave a tip for housekeeping.” She crossed her arms and scowled at him.

  He wandered over to her, wearing nothing but his boots and jeans, and swept her into his arms. “Of course I will. It isn't every day that I get Lucky."

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  Chapter Seven

  As soon as they managed to get free of the hotel room and the slap and tickle urge that had overcome them both, they were on their way to Silverwood. Henry looked disappointed to be behind the wheel where he couldn't get at her. “It will take us a few hours to get there so we had better pick up some supplies for lunch."

  They stopped at a grocery store for sandwich fixings and beverages. They had loaded the car and she moved into the passenger seat when he stopped and blushed.

  "I need to attend to a small matter."

  He almost had the door closed when she commented, “It isn't that small.” Her snickers echoed on the concrete through the open door, then confined themselves in the plush interior of the car when he closed it. He was gone for nearly ten minutes leaving her plenty of time for close examination of her nails and split ends. She needed an emery board with a certain amount of urgency, but nothing her teeth couldn't take the edge off, so to speak.

  He materialized with a suddenness that made her jump. “Okay. We are on our way. We should be there in time for tea."

  "Could you wear a bell or something?” When the engine rumbled to life she could swear that the car was laughing at her. It was slightly disconcerting.

  "No.” He buckled up, leaned over to give her a quick kiss on the nose and put the car in gear. A moment later and they were on their way.

  * * * *

  When Henry had attended the call of nature, the nature that called was his own. A plush throw became their table as they stopped for their picnic.

  Champagne flutes and sparkling apple juice appeared magically and the paper plates that she had picked up had transformed into fine china with matching cutlery. Their humble sandwich fixings were the only items that they purchased that had remained the same.

  "This is one of the nicest picnics I have ever had, Henry. Thank you.” She toasted him with one of the flutes.

  He raised his own glass in response and murmured, “You're welcome."

  Their glasses touched and she lost her grip. Sparkling apple juice tipped and spilled across her hand and down her arm in a matter of seconds. “Oh phooey.” She swung her hand away from the throw to let the juice drain off into the grass. “My arm is gonna be sticky unless I get this off me."

  "I am sorry. There is a pond about fifty metres through the brush there. Watch out fo
r poison ivy.” He began to clean up the remains of their lunch.

  The last thing she saw as she made her way into the scrub were his shoulders and buttocks flexing as he bent and stretched to tidy up their picnic spot. When the greenery had obscured her over-the-shoulder peeping, she sighed and kept her eyes on the pathway. She had planned to roll him over after lunch and have her way with him on that soft sueded fabric, but some plans needed to be put aside until they were practical.

  The branches and trees parted suddenly and she stopped for a moment to take in the view. The pond was the product of three streams and some beavers. The surface appeared still but she sensed a wild current just beneath. The water was crystal clear and she wandered forward in a daze to wash the rapidly drying stickiness left by the juice. Westa was drip-drying her arm in the sun when an unwelcome voice broke the silence.

  "So my dear Lucky. We meet again.” Tamsin was rising from the pond and he was not alone. The golden elf was astride a beautiful white horse and they were both completely nude.

  "Have you been stalking me? Perv.” She turned to go back to Henry only to find the path blocked by a column of mist. “What the hell is all this?"

  Tamsin dismounted and walked across the water.

  His golden skin glistened in the sun. It was no doubt designed to be enticing, but Westa found it ridiculously theatrical.

  "Henry Inlough had his chance to seduce you, and no doubt used every charm at his disposal. This is my chance."

  "What the hell?” She began to back up rapidly, moving into the fog and keeping the power of her luck between them. She wasn't quite fast enough as he managed to grab her and pull her in for a searing kiss. She was sure he meant it to be searing, but she was only irritated at the pressure on her mouth as her teeth and lips were ground together.

  From off in the distance, she heard a roar of fury and it gave her the strength to bring a knee up to trip Tamsin into the low scrub next to them. She scrambled away from him and tried to lose herself in the heavy fog. She heard cursing and smiled, it seemed Tamsin had found the poison ivy.