You Bet Your Banshee (4 page)

I shook my head. I was calmer now. Embarrassed as all hell because now I’d have to go mingle with men who’d watched me come all over the stage, but this was my job. The money I earned tonight could mean the difference between staying in my crappy apartment and living in City Park.

After cleaning up and repairing my makeup, I slipped into the club uniform of black micromini skirt that barely covered my ass-cheeks. I hated it because there were two hot pink hand prints for each cheek and the words “Spank Me” written over them. The customers enjoyed this part of the club’s benefits. I despised the forty-dollar spankings since it reminded me of the milder tests the queen’s people had put me through in their quest for tears. The bra I wore only pushed my breasts higher until I could’ve used them like a portable table.

Fortifying myself with a deep breath, I left the locker room and peeked through the door leading to the club. Everything looked normal. The customers were watching Sapphire on the stage and throwing money. The other dancers were mingling and chatting, rubbing their asses over laps, getting spankings. Business as usual.

I opened the door and stepped onto the club main floor. Evidently they’d been watching for me because the instant the automatic-lock door closed behind me, they swarmed.

“I want a lap dance!”

“Oh, baby, that was the hottest thing ever.”

“Have you ever thought about being in interdimensional porn? I think you could handle a demon gangbang, baby. You’d make a fortune!”

“Let me spank that ass. Are you still wet? I bet you are.”

Cheek burning from embarrassment and humiliation, I looked for Grady, the bouncer who was already on his way over. Someone got to me before he did though, pushing the men away with his power. I sucked in a shocked breath as I got a taste of Ryvan’s magic again.

“No,” I mumbled, shaking my head. I backed into the door. I opened my mouth to scream, certain he planned to take me back to Fairworld right then and there.

He snagged my wrist, yanking me away from my perverted fan club. Grady stopped, looking strangely puny next to Ryvan.

“You okay, Maggie?” he asked cautiously.

I didn’t know if I was or not, but the big hand gently squeezing my wrist told me Ryvan would hurt the werewolf bouncer if he interfered. “I–I’m fine, Grady. Uh, this is my private dance appointment.”

It was all I could think of with Ryvan towing me in the direction of the private booths. My admirers howled at how unfair it was and demanded their own dances. Grady, thank goodness, was in more familiar territory with them and took care of them, stopping the horde from following us.

Ryvan grabbed the first available booth and yanked the curtain closed behind us. He let go of my wrist, turning on me so quickly I almost backed out of the booth.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he said with a growl, his big hands grabbing my shoulders. He gave me a little shake, leaning down to get in my face. “What the fuck are you doing in a place like this?”

The heat of his breath washed over my skin, bringing back the unbearable pleasure I’d felt on stage. My body flushed with arousal, my nether lips swelling and growing slick all over again.

“I—”

Without warning, he yanked me up against him, one of his hands cupping the back of my head to tilt my face toward him. His full lips were just as soft as I’d imagined, but his mouth was hotter than the fires of hell could ever hope to be. He devoured me, his tongue thrusting into my mouth over and over in a perfect mimicry of what I wanted him to do much lower. I should’ve broken away, but damn, I was still on fire from my climax, needing more. My tongue danced with his, flicking over his fangs, the roof of his mouth.

I’d never been kissed with so much intensity, as though my mouth held the key to everything he needed. He tasted like apples and chocolate, a decadent combination I knew I’d dream about the rest of my life—however long it’d be. He was hard and solid against me, a wall of muscle and heat and strength. I clung to his shoulders, letting my fingernails dig into the expensive leather of his jacket. I whimpered a little. I moaned a lot. I rubbed against him like a cat in heat, trying to get the hard length of the cock pressing against my belly where I wanted it, right between my legs.

His hands, great big mitts of hands, flowed over the skin bared by my bra and skirt. His touch was gentle, light, teasing. My body produced more moisture, seeping down my passage to my thighs. He reached the globes of my ass, filling his palms with them before lifting me clean off my feet.

Startled, I broke our kiss, my legs wrapping around his hips reflexively. I gasped loudly at the feel of his cock pressing against me, rubbing in just…the right…spot. My eyes fluttered closed as I writhed against him, unable to help myself.

“Magda,” he murmured in a hypnotically seductive voice. “My Magda.”

His big hands guided my hips in a better rhythm, fucking me against him in an adolescent dry hump I hadn’t done even when I
was
an adolescent. I’d been an idiot because this felt better than all the full-on sex I’d had as a late teen and young adult. He was hard behind the fly of his jeans and he knew what to do with his body, circling here, rubbing there, and thrusting against me. He knew where my clit was and made sure his jean-covered cock made contact over and over again.

I was making a lot of noise. I couldn’t help myself. This was better than what happened on the stage. This was the best sex of my life and he wasn’t even inside me. I was going to come again and soak the front of his pants. Everyone who saw him would either think he wet himself, or he’d just humped a very wet, sticky woman.

Part of my brain, the rational part, told me this was wrong. That this wasn’t natural. The shameless hussy who occupied the other half of my body pushed Ms. Prude out of the way and angled my hips until he butt up against my clit harder.

“There you go, baby,” he whispered against the skin of my throat. “Come all over me. Let me feel your pussy drench me. Gods, I can’t wait to get inside you. I bet you’re tight and hot, aren’t you?”

His words combined with the scrape of his fangs on the plump top of my breast, sent me over the edge. A piercing shriek burned my throat as I came all over him, my inner muscles squeezing on nothing, my claws ripping through the tips of my fingers to pierce his jacket and shirt, digging into his skin. He shouted, his hips bucking up against me and more damp warmth pooled between us.

The world went silent around us in the aftermath of the best orgasm of my life. Or it might have just been that I lost my hearing from the power of our voices as we came. I couldn’t tell and was too damn sated to care at the moment.

Ryvan sank onto the only chair in the room with me draped around him like a mink stole. I couldn’t move and was glad he had enough sense to find a place for us to recover. His hands still cupped my ass, but they squeezed and kneaded like Breeze did with his favorite blanket, like he drew comfort from it. I gave a mental shrug. If my ass brought him happiness and contentment, who was I to argue? It felt good and soothing so I wasn’t going to complain.

“This didn’t go the way I intended,” he rumbled after my hearing returned.

Music blared from the main floor. Men shouted encouragement. It was a normal night outside the booth, but inside, I’d just had my world rocked by my not-so-imaginary friend.

When I found the strength, I sat up. I still straddled his lap, my juices and his cum coating his jeans. “The way you intended?”

I shifted on his thighs with a wince. I was feeling a little raw. Who knew you could get denim burn? My thighs and nether lips felt very tender right now.

He shook his head, his pale eyes serious. “No, I had a very solid plan on what I’d tell you, but you started freaking out and the fiend attacked before I could finish telling you what was going on.”

“You brought me home and put me in bed.” I folded my arms over my chest, so not happy with him. “Who the hell do you think you are? You can’t just…do that stuff.” And why I was so hung up on that rather than what we’d just done, I couldn’t say. Probably because if he had stayed last night, I would’ve had some very hot sex this morning. Maybe.

I could see his temper sparking to life again. “But I can nearly fuck you in a strip club? I can watch you come on a stage as strangers watch you, see your pussy juices wetting your thighs? That’s okay?”

Okay, his hands had gone from happy kneading to gripping. I squirmed. “I never had that happen before!” Like that was any defense. “And what does it matter to you anyway? Huh?” I poked his rock hard chest.

He grabbed my finger and snarled, “I’m your future consort, Magda, and I’ll kill any man who so much as looks at what’s mine.”

I hopped out of his lap like my ass was on fire. Well, it was tingling a lot from his handling, but my move had nothing to do with the physical and everything to do with the ridiculous. My knees wobbled, blood rushed to my head, and it took a moment to find my anger again. Then I remembered the whole consort bullshit.

Yup, one pissed off banshee coming up.

“You’re out of your fucking mind!”

One of his silky black eyebrows rose as he surveyed me from top to bottom. He should have looked disgusting and slovenly with the crotch of his jeans damp from cum, his lips swollen from kisses, and his hair falling into his eyes. Instead, he looked hot. I squeezed my thighs together as another unwelcome clench of lust rolled through me.

Get back on track, Magda Marie O’Quinn!
I mentally shouted at myself. He’d claimed to be my consort. I snorted. Everyone knew consorts were only for royals and I was about as far from royal as a banshee could get.

“I don’t have a consort,” I stated with a tug on my skirt.

For someone who spent a lot of time showing their goods, I felt naked in front of him. Probably because I wanted to rip my clothes off and jump him.

“You’ve always had a consort, sweetheart,” he said with great satisfaction. His tongue flicked out to dampen his bottom lip and I tingled. I wanted him to use that wicked tongue all over my body and—

“You’ve always been mine, Magda.”

I snapped out of my lust-induced trance to glare at him. “Oh yeah? Well, other than the fact that I’m not a royal, therefore it’s impossible for me to have a consort, where the fuck were you when my tribe was trying to
kill
me, huh?” I stomped up to him, no longer turned on. Now I was just pissed off. “You sneer at my job, but when I ran because they were going to murder me it was either strip or prostitute myself. You think I’m going to jump at the chance to go back to that hellhole because you say you’re my “consort” and will protect little ole me? Ha!”

It turned out to be a mistake because he had a long reach. He snagged me around the waist and sat me on his lap, cuddling me up against his chest. I struggled to get away. I didn’t want pity or sympathy. I wasn’t sure what the hell I wanted at the moment, but he didn’t try to make excuses. In fact, he didn’t talk at all. He just held me, the warmth of his body oozing into me dangerously slow, calming me.

His lips brushed my temple. I heard him take a deep breath, felt his thick chest expand against my side. It made me want to sink into him, to let him take away all the hurts I’d suffered. I’ve never felt so powerfully drawn to a male before, like he was a safe, sexy harbor created just for me. I was so tempted to lean against him, to let him take care of me I had to physically restrain myself from clinging to him. I’d learned in the last ten years that I’m not a weak woman. I might not be magically strong, but I have the will to survive.

“I am your consort because you’re the heir apparent of the Wailing Court.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, right. There are twelve royal princesses among the tribes and my name is nowhere in the mix. Besides, didn’t you hear what I said at the meeting last night? I can’t fucking cry.” My voice came out as a growl, the remembered pain and humiliations scraping across my nerve endings. My feet twitched with the need to get the hell out of here, away from him.

His big arms squeezed me tighter like he knew I was about to burst out of his hold. “There was a prophecy made two hundred years ago.” I felt his words rumbling in his chest before I heard them. “When the banshee who cannot cry is joined by a male of the water, she shall shed tears more precious than air. Together, she and her consort shall unite the tribes under her rule.”

“How pretty,” I said in a soft voice, although Crystal’s prediction whispered through my mind. Was it possible? Then I snorted. “And what a load of bullshit. Someone always has a prophecy and not a damn single one of them come true. If that’s what you’re basing this crap on, you’re out of your mind. Now, let me go. I need to get back to work.”

Obviously that was the wrong thing to say since I actually
felt
the heat of his anger before he blasted me again. “You’re not going back out there,” he said against my ear. “You think this is some kind of trick to get you back to Fairworld, but you’re dead wrong, Magda. There are already factions aiming to stop you from taking the throne. That’s who attacked last night.”

My skin chilled at the seriousness in his voice. “What do you mean? There are other idiots out there who believe this prophecy is true?”

“I don’t appreciate being called an idiot, especially when the prophecy led me straight to you.” His hot breath brushed over my ear, making my nipples harden again. “You haven’t been in Fairworld for nearly a decade. Things have changed a lot. The banshees are dwindling under the rule of Queen Melosia.” I shuddered at her name being spoken. She’d been the one who ordered my death after all. I was allowed to freak out a little. Ryvan chafed my arms with his big, hot hands. “The tribes are suffering. Queen Tamsyn of the Fairy Court is the one who believes you’re the banshee of prophecy and she’s given you her backing.”

I turned to look into his fiery blue eyes. “What?”

He nodded, the lock of hair over his eye swaying with the movement. “She sent me after you.” He shut his eyes, lines forming on his face as he scowled. “I knew about you, but I wasn’t allowed to go to you until the prophecy was put into motion.”