Creatures

TWENTY-NINE

The inn was small, native-run. While the tall, older danish woman spoke mostly her mother tongue, she spoke to the American tourists in fluent English. They checked in, and she directed them to a room on the second floor of the home.

"She's mythic." He told her as they walked to the stairs.

She looked at him curiously. "Really?"

"Fae." He said.

That made her tense.

"No, this is a waystation." He said. "Funny we found one, actually, I wasn't looking for it. Though that's what waystations do."

He didn't continue.

"So, are you gonna tell me what the fuck a waystation is?" She asked him pointedly.

He sighed irritatedly. It was his nerves, it was making him crabby. But he responded anyway. "A safe place. They'll cater to mythics. They've got magic in them. You'll see..."

They walked up the stairs and took the woman's directions to the room at the end of the hallway on the left. Tristan opened the door and set his bag down just inside, taking Chrissy's next as she walked in. He placed it by his own.

The room was large, beautiful. The bed was oak with four posts, and the sheets were dark and patterned abstractly. The walls were obviously original with the house, a lovely wood paneling. Chrissy sat on the edge of the bed and smoothed her hands across the sheets.

They'd spent almost a day traveling, and Chrissy was exhausted. She'd just started her heat so what she really wanted was a fast hard fuck and then to sleep wrapped up in one another.

With a smile on her face, Christine kicked off one shoe, then the other, and stood. Making sure Tristan was watching her every move - which he was - she slid off the bed, turned around and bent at the hips. She then gave her ass a little wiggle.

Tristan walked over and turned Chrissy on her back.

Usually into yanking off all of their clothes as fast as possible, she was a little surprised that the first thing he wanted to do was kiss the hell out of her. He didn't seem to want to stop, either.

This is not really what she had in mind, so she took the first moment she could to get her pants off and try and turn on her front. Tristan stopped her. "Why do you do that?"

I can't look at you.

Tristan was delighted to see the waystation agreed with him, though it scared the shit out of Christine. Little black ribbons slithered out over the pillows, tracked down Christine's hands, wound around them and pulled taut. She screamed. Tristan had to cover her mouth and he chuckled a little. "Shh... Just magic."

"That is not okay." She announced the second he took his hand off her mouth. "This is not okay, what the fuck did this bed just do to me?" She pulled at the ribbons.

"Waystation wants you there." He said with a very pleased smile.

She looked at him expectantly. "Are you going to get me out?"

He looked at her incredulously. "Are you kidding me? No. First of all, you don't disagree with the magic. Secondly, I've been wanting to do this for months." He gave her a greedy grin.

She looked displeased, but didn't push it. Honestly she couldn't care less, she wanted him naked. Now. Chris reached for the waistband of his pants with her toes, trying to pull them down off his hips.

"Why do you do that?" He asked again. "Why always on your front?"

She flushed, not wanting to respond.