Size Matters (5 page)

Lowering her to the floor, he laid her out on the plush rug in front of the fire. As she smiled up at him, she moved her hands to her breasts, cupping them and playing with the hard nipples.

Lust rode him hard and he stood to shed his pants, grabbing the condom from the pocket before tossing them aside. Then he dropped to his knees between the legs she spread for him.

Now sheathed, his cock pulsed in his hand and he clamped two fingers around the base to keep from coming.

She watched him, her eyelids lowering even more as her smile spread.
Witch
. She liked the effect she had on him. Frankly, so did he.

Without warning, he slid his fingers through her slit, making her moan. When he had the confirmation of her desire all over his fingers, he started working two fingers into her. Slow and easy, he thrust and retreated, watching her every expression. Her eyes closed on his first inward glide, her lips parting in a sensual sigh. Her back arched just the slightest bit, allowing him to go even deeper. Her sex felt like slick, warm satin pulsing around his fingers in an ever-increasing beat.

He pumped in and out, taking it slow, focusing her passion on the spot they were joined—at her pussy. His cock began to throb in time to his thrusts, an ache building in his balls.

Carrie arched with each invasion, her breathing harsh in the quiet room. The sound rasped against his nerves, stroked along his shaft and damn near caused him to hyperventilate.

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Size Matters

Her fingers plucked at her hardened nipples. He nearly swallowed his tongue as he watched her play with herself, watched her hands squeeze and release then slide down her stomach. Her head rolled from side to side, a moan passing through those luscious lips.

She came without warning, eyes closed, her hands reaching for his wrists, trying to hold him in place. But he wouldn’t let her. He kept pumping until he couldn’t take it any longer and fell on her with a raging hunger.

Propping himself on his arms so he could watch her face, he pushed his cock into her incredibly tight pussy, her contractions clamping around him. She was so damn tight, he didn’t think he was going to get all the way in before he came, but he couldn’t stop.

In a few centimeters, out a few centimeters. In a little farther until finally he swore his cock touched her womb.

She moaned again, her eyes opening to look into his.

He had no defenses against the raw pleasure he saw on her face and let his hips slam back and forth, fucking her with a brutal strength that had her wrapping her legs around his waist and her hands around his wrists, bracing herself.

The earthy sounds coming from her mouth let him know he wasn’t hurting her. In fact, she encouraged him to go faster with the beat of her heels against his ass.

His hips nailed her to the floor with each thrust, shooting wicked bolts of lightning up his spinal cord and into his brain. His synapses fried and his brain shut down so that all he knew was sex.

Carrie’s musky scent, the sensation of his cock sliding in and out, the warmth. He wished he wasn’t wearing the condom so he could feel her wetness against his skin.

Time lost all meaning as they lost themselves in the act, in each other.

His orgasm hit him as suddenly as hers had, his seed spilling from his cock, seeming to go on forever.

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Stephanie Julian

And a warmth that had nothing to do with sex followed on its heels.

With the final spasms, he let his body cover hers completely. Her arms wrapped around him and she sighed into his chest.

And fell asleep.

38

Size Matters

Tim woke, wrapped around Carrie.

He’d carried her to the loft after that last bout of sex, crawled in bed beside her and went lights out.

Boom, boom, boom.

He sucked in a breath.

What the hell was that?

The sound came again and he thought the wind must have kicked up and was banging a tree limb against the wall.

He hoped it didn’t wake…

Wait.
Shit
. Someone was pounding on the front door.

Tim rose, grabbing a pair of gym shorts from the pile of clean clothes on the chair next to the bed, trying not to disturb Carrie who was still out like a light. He took the stairs two at a time and skidded to a stop before the door. Checking the sidelight next to the door, he nearly groaned at the sight of the people standing on the porch.

Shit.
Shit, shit, shit.

He ripped open the door before they started pounding again.

“Damn, Andy, what the hell are you doing here?”

His cousin stood on the porch, staring at him from beneath the hood of his white coat. His pale gray eyes widened and Tim felt guilt twist in his gut.

“Nice to see you, too, Tim. Guess that ‘Come by and visit anytime’ was bullshit, huh?”

Yeah, he was an ass. He shook his head and waved the pair in. “Shit, I’m sorry. You caught me at a bad time. Hey, Fry, what’s up?”

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Stephanie Julian

The other man shrugged his shoulders, the humps on his back moving up and down under his coat. “Not much. Cold as a bitch out there today. At least it stopped snowing.”

Fry started to unzip his coat but stopped midway, his nose twitching. “Uh, you got company, Tim?”

Andy paused for a second as he picked up the scent then laughed, a short bark of sound. “Hell, now I know why you’re not happy to see us.” He pushed his hood down and his white-blond hair fell out and around his shoulders. “Dude, you get lucky today?”

Tim gave him the finger. “None of your damn business. But you can’t be here when she wakes up.”

Andy’s pale eyebrows rose. “She’s one of them? I thought you swore off that flavor after Jenny.”

“She’s nothing like Jenny.”
The bitch
. “But if she gets a load of you two, she’s gonna put two and two together and come up with front-page news.” Andy hung his coat next to Carrie’s on a wall hook and ran his hands through his hair, bending down to take off his boots. “We just need to hang out for a few hours then we’ll go.”

Tim glanced at Fry, who shrugged and looked apologetic. As opposed to Andy, who just looked amused. And a little worried.

Tim got a bad feeling. “What’s going on, Andy? And don’t tell me you just decided to make a trip halfway around the world to say hi.” His cousin’s long legs ate the space between the door and the fireplace in two strides and he stuck his hands close to the screen to warm them, even though Tim knew he couldn’t be cold. Hell, the guy lived high in the Himalayan Mountains most of the year. This twenty-degree weather should be subtropical for him.

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Size Matters

When Andy didn’t answer, Tim turned to Fry, who was just hanging up his coat.

Flapping his blue-tinted wings a couple of times to stretch them, he turned to Tim and shrugged. His ears, the pointed tips clearly visible through his tousled black hair, twitched.

“Sorry, Tim,” Fry said. “We picked up a SPAz tail in Jersey. We think we lost him somewhere in Kutztown, but we’re not sure.”

Tim’s temples began to thump. Great, just fucking great. The members of the Society of Paranormal Anomalies, which Tim’s community had given the unflattering and completely appropriate nickname of SPAz many years ago, were first-rate pains-in-the-ass.

Tim scrubbed at his eyes, trying to ease the headache he felt building. “Christ, Andy. You don’t know how much of a bad time this is.” His cousin shrugged. “I must have been in the wrong place at the wrong time. I didn’t even know I was going to pick up Fry in England when I started out from home.

I was gonna hang out in Ireland for a while but Fry contacted me and let me know he was in London. We decided to hop the Atlantic, hang out with you for a while then head up to the Mystyk Bar in Tioga. I only noticed the damn tail when we were halfway to Reading. They must’ve gotten a tip from someone at the airport.”

“Hell, I’m not angry with you, Andy. But Carrie…well, she…”

“Doesn’t know who you are?” Andy snorted. “No shit.” Tim sighed again. “No, I mean she’s one of them.” Andy’s perplexed expression would have been funny any other time. “You mean she’s like Fry? Hell, buddy, if I’d known you had a thing for wings, I would have hooked you up with Gizelle years ago.”

And that would have been much easier, wouldn’t it? To fall for a woman from the Fringe.

“That’s not what I mean.”

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Stephanie Julian

Andy frowned. “Then what—” His eyes widened. “Oh, you have
got
to be kidding me? She’s a
SPAz
?”

“No. Worse.” He paused then bit the bullet. “She works for the
Weekly News
Journal
.”

Andy’s mouth dropped open for at least fifteen seconds before he started to laugh.

“Oh, you are so
fucking
screwed, cuz.”

Yeah, he was. Totally.

Because, from behind him, he heard Carrie gasp.

* * * * *

There was no way she was awake.

Carrie figured she was having a dream because Tim was standing in his living room talking to a Yeti with long, blond hair and a winged Mothman.

Except the Yeti was no ape man and Mothman had the face of an English fairy, all sharp angles and points. And wings.

And the Yeti kind of looked like Tim. Yeah, there definitely seemed to be a family resemblance in the deep-set eyes, the high cheekbones and the square jaw.

Damn. She must have hit her head harder than she’d thought in the accident. And she definitely needed a vacation. Her job had finally started to get to her.

“Carrie?”

“Uh huh.”

She heard Tim say something else but she couldn’t take her eyes off those wings.

They must be attached to the tight cotton sweater the guy wore. They couldn’t be real.

But how the hell was he making them flap? And why the hell would he be wearing them?

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Size Matters

Walking over to the guy, she twirled her finger in the air and damn, if the guy’s mouth didn’t quirk up at the corners before he did a slow turn, stopping to give his wings a kind of a preening flutter when he had his back to her.

Nope, those suckers weren’t attached to the sweater. They actually poked through perfectly made slits in the fabric. They weren’t all that big, each only about two feet across and maybe that long again. And they were blue. Actually, they were the exact shade of the sweater he was wearing.

He was a few inches shorter than she was and he looked tiny next to the other new guy.

The blond giant stared down at her.

“Hi.” Blondie held out his hand. “I’m Andy. This is Fry.” She took his hand, wondering when she was going to see a bug-eyed alien or the Loch Ness monster walk by. “Hi back. Carrie Benton.”

“Nice to meet you.”

Mothman held out his hand and she took it. Felt real enough. Warm, soft skin.

“Hello, Carrie.” Faint trace of an accent, a bit like Scotty on
Star Trek
. Did that make him Irish? Scottish?

When he released her hand, she waggled her index finger in the general direction of his shoulders. “Those wings are great. How did you make those?” The guy smiled, showing off shiny bright teeth and two pointed fangs. Not huge vampire fangs, just sharply pointed canines. Wow, he really went all out. Did he have those filed or did he glue them on?

He’d make a great cover for the
Journal
. She wondered if he’d let her photograph him.

Not that she believed he was a real fairy. There were no such things. This guy just had a little too much money and way too much time on his hands.

Still… She walked around to check out his wings again.

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Stephanie Julian

“Carrie?”

She didn’t bother to glance up at Tim, just gave him a distracted “Hmm?”

“You okay, babe?”

She smiled. “Fine. These are just too cool. How do you make them move?” When Fry didn’t answer, she glanced at him. He stared at her with an enigmatic smile. Like he was trying to tell her something.

She blinked.

No. There was just no way. No way in hell.

“Carrie?”

She glanced over at Tim, who looked a little green around the gills, his dark eyes shadowed.

And she was struck again by how tall he was. How tall both he and Andy were.

Her gaze narrowed and blurred as she continued to stare.

God…damn. No, she really must have messed up her head. They looked…like…

Oh, hell to the no. That was just whack.

“Tim?”

He sighed. “Yeah, babe?”

She tried. She really did. But she just couldn’t get her mouth to form the words.

Instead, she shook her head and swore she felt a few marbles roll.

Tim walked over to her, put one large hand on her shoulder and squeezed. Heavy, warm. That hand had done amazing things to her body.

His eyes were such a warm brown, soothing and sexy at the same time.

If she was a fanciful person, she’d say she was half in love with the guy. She wanted to smile every time she looked at him.

But she wasn’t in love with him. She couldn’t be. She didn’t do love at first sight.

She’d been a reporter too long to believe in something as magical as that.

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Size Matters

And he wasn’t…couldn’t be…

“Tim, I think… I think my job’s going to my head.” She tried to laugh but it sounded strained. “Maybe I hit my head harder than I thought because I just had the weirdest idea.”

“Uh, Tim,” Andy said, “your girl’s got that look on her face.” Yeah, unfortunately, Tim had to agree. That look said her gears were working.

Carrie was a bright woman. Too bright to let herself believe Fry’s wings were real. But smart enough to want to figure out how he was making them move. And he knew she wouldn’t let it go. She’d have Fry stripped out of his sweater in five seconds flat to find out exactly what she wanted to know.

And Fry would give it to her, if only for the pleasure of watching her realize those wings were real.

Then she’d take one more look at him and Andy and put two and two together and get Sasquatch.