I stumble backward. At the same moment, the most amazing male scent envelopes me, just before strong, masculine arms wrap tightly around me from behind. I all but fall into this stranger’s embrace as darkness threatens to engulf me. Cara leaps into my arms. Latching onto her I trace without thinking. My only thought is I need to get home before I do something horribly juvenile, like passing out in The Horde King’s bar, after only one glass of faerie wine. The arms around me feel nice, and he smells yummy too.
From a distance through my trace trail, I hear my uncle cry out, “No, LJ.” But it’s too late and darkness swallows me whole.
4
Faerie Wine Connoisseur Extraordinaire
(Lillie Joanna)
Iwake to a pounding headache. The likes of which I have never experienced in all my twenty years. Dear God, in heaven, please let the tap-dancing behind my eyes stop. Groaning, I roll over to pull a pillow over my head to block out the ultra-bright light of the morning sun and it’s at that moment that I realize that I’m still fully clothed. How the heck did I get here? The last thing I remember clearly is standing to leave. Cara is lying beside me, and she eyes me curiously, her head tilting to the left and then the right. Her fluffy tail wagging, a mischievous smile on her face. Just then I smell the heavenly scent of bacon, and is that French toast with a hint of cinnamon?
Oh, for all the pixie dust in Faerie, please let this headache go away. I moan as I wallow in my overindulgence from the night before. Deciding I need to get comfortable, I slide out of bed, or more accurately I stumble to my feet to shimmy out of my black leather ensemble and pull on some black cropped leggings and a simple white cami. For a moment, I catch the glimpse of a heady, delicious scent that seems vaguely familiar, and then, like a fart in the wind, it’s gone. Deciding that it’s past time to brush my hairy teeth, I pad quietly into the bathroom and brush vigorously before washing all the makeup off my face. Not able to stall any longer, I decide it’s time to take the walk of shame down to see my brother and whoever else he may have dragged along to see me. Although, it’s several days too early for their visit. Looking in the mirror, I grimace. I look like death warmed over, my skin has taken on a pasty look that does nothing for my sparkling complexion, not to mention the dark circles under my eyes. Thank you Tarron, and your grand idea to feed me faerie wine. Never again. I pull my unruly dark wavy hair up into a messy bun and I’m done. This will have to do. For now. I’ll take a shower after I feed my god-awful hangover.
One freakin’ glass. Gah.
Damn. My head is still pounding as I silently make my way down to the kitchen on bare feet. Pausing in the entryway to the kitchen, I swallow thickly when I see a stranger standing with his bare back to me flipping French toast on the stove. My blood runs cold and I trace back upstairs for a dagger, then back again before my sluggish brain comes back online and I summon the fire element to me. It springs to life in my upturned palm, flickering and dancing, waiting to do my bidding.
The stranger chuckles and calls over his sexy as sin back, “That’s a nifty trick you have there. Would you mind telling me how you do that? Not the summoning of fire, I’ve got that down, the other thing.”
“Who the hell are you? How did you get here?” I demand. All the while his delicious scent wafts around me and my inner panther purrs. Oh, hell no, I scold her silently, but she takes no heed as she wallows in her arousal. Our arousal.
Turning around to address me, I’m able to get my first good look at the stranger that has made himself at home in my kitchen. Be still my wildly beating heart. Come on LJ, get a grip. My eyes travel down the broad expanse of his mocha cream torso of their own volition. By all that’s naughty, I want to run my hands over all that beautiful breadth of golden-brown skin. His jeans sit low on his slim hips revealing his incredibly sculpted abs and I realize a little too late that I’m all but salivating over the intruder in my house, but to my credit, he is one fine male specimen. Finally, getting my act together, I chance a look up to his face and he has a wicked smirk on his deliciously full lips. My mouth goes dry as I imagine nibbling on his bottom lip and wonder what he would taste like. Swallowing hard, the tip of my tongue darts out to lick my upper lip as I pull my head out of the gutter. When my eyes finally make it up to
