Away With the Fairies (The Swallow Barn Cottage Series, Book 2)

Pardon My Ringing

Author's Note:

I know, I know, I'm weak and I gave in right away - and here's the second half of today's double update! What can I say? I just want to bring my readers a bit of joy.

Love,

K. xx

***

He gave her his familiar tilted nod, so slight that there was a second when she thought he shook his head. She scooted even closer, and her knees pressed into his side. He slowly moved his arm out of her way, behind her, without touching her. Fiona closed her eyes and pressed her lips to the corner of his mouth. He shifted, turning to her, aligning their mouths. Their lips remained closed. His were warm, and hers trembled - and then she smiled and moved back.

"It's–" she murmured, "not kicking in."

His eyes opened, and she saw the dark blue of his irises.

"The generator?"

"My craving," she said. "I don't– It's not like before."

He studied her eyes, and she smiled wider.

"I thought it would be like before, this heat, and it's like I'm drunk," she said, "It feels mucky, and hot inside– and here." She covered her throat with her hand. "And I had these fantasies– about other men. And I don't have it right now."

His left eyebrow rose a tad.

"No fantasies with me?" His voice was raspy.

"No," she said and giggled. "No fantasies with you."

She then put her hand on his right shoulder, and pulled herself closer to him.

"May I–" she asked, and pointed at his lap with her eyes.

"What even–" he muttered, and then shook his head. "Yeah, be my guest."

She carefully moved her leg over him, and lowered herself, her knees on two sides of his hips on the floor.

"Can I kiss you again, please?"

"You can stop asking," he grumbled and nodded again - and she haltingly leaned in and pressed her lips to his.

This time he moved, tilting his head, and she felt his bottom lip brush at hers. She pressed closer and cupped his face with her hands. A second before his beard scraped at her palms, she wondered what it would feel like, pausing the kiss in anticipation - and to fully savour it - and then her fingers curled into the whiskers, scratching gently at his jaw. She felt his breathing flutter on her lips.

She moved back and greedily peered into his face. His eyes were even darker now, and his cheekbones seemed flushed.

"Still nothing," she said, and he suddenly barked a throaty laugh.

"This makes one of us," he said, and then bucked his hips, making her bounce on what no doubt was his body's reaction to their kiss.

"I don't mean that I feel nothing, but it's still not–" She brushed her right thumb to the longer whiskers in his moustache, above the corner of his soft upper lip. "It still doesn't feel wrong. I'm not... ashamed. And I'm not losing control," she said surprised.

"I've noticed," he said.

She'd been listening to the odd sensations in her body, and then she focused on him again.

"I've never– Before my marriage there were just some– boys, you know." She chewed her bottom lip in embarrassment. "And I had a boyfriend for a bit, but it was just– It doesn't matter." She shook her head. "But then for years I just had these images in my head, and then the night before I read a book from the shelf–" She nodded towards the large bookshelf by the wall. "About pansexual dystopian pirates." He was listening without interrupting, his eyes twinkling, and she blushed. "That's what it says on the back cover. That's why I asked if you used to write this sort of thing, because the author's name is Dair Naofa, and that's 'holy oak' in Irish. And the stuff in it– it's just– It's a lot like those things I used to imagine, just sort of twisted and indecent. And I thought I'd feel like that, if I actually touched anyone." She frowned. "I'm a married woman, and he's the only man I've ever– you know, I've ever done it with. So I thought–" She shook her head. "I don't know what I thought I'd do. Lose control, I reckon, and–"