Chapter Thirteen
“Intoxication can unleash the beast within a Fae.”
~Chronicles of the Fae
Conn fought the bolt of desire spearing a path throughout his body. Her touch spoke volumes—an invitation to taste. Never had he longed to kiss a human like this wee lass. His heart beat loudly, and he found himself unable to move. She was a goddess of the moonlight. It danced off her face and hair, and he trembled before her. Ivy’s fingers traced down his cheek and across his lips. He was helpless to contain the growl that escaped from his mouth.
The rush of passion overtook him, and Conn slammed the door on his mind. Grasping Ivy around the waist, he hoisted her up on top of the bridge. Her lips parted on a sigh, and he lowered his mouth to feast on something he dared not take. The first brush of her soft lips against his own ignited a hunger he could no longer contain. Taking her moan deep into him, Conn glorified in the sensation of her mouth—one filled with a honeyed sweetness.
The Fae warrior became just a man for the first time. Something primal burst within him. Emotions he had never felt left him dizzy, spiraling to a physical plane. He craved them all. His lips seared a course down her neck, to her throat, and then recaptured the velvet warmth of her mouth.
Ivy wrapped her arms around his neck, and he deepened the kiss. When her legs went around his waist, he was the one to moan. His body burned to delve inside her—give her all that he had by spilling his seed deep within her. He wanted to claim her for his own. Show her the moon and the stars with every kiss—every touch.
Their kisses were ones of seeking—each exploring the other. Conn slipped his hand under her shirt while his mouth continued to cover hers hungrily. With trembling fingers, he brushed them over her taut nipple through the lacy material. Breaking free from the kiss, he gazed deeply into her eyes. One to never ask—always taking, he surprised himself by saying, “I want to taste you here. Will you grant me this?” he asked while fondling her breast.
Her breathing was labored, but the smile she gave him was a moonbeam of promises. Removing her jacket, she placed it next to her. Lifting her shirt over her head, she undid her bra and dropped it onto the ground. Leaning forward, she whispered, “Kiss me anywhere.”
“Are you sure, Ivy? I may ask—demand more of you.” He trailed a finger between the soft mounds, pale in the luminous light.
Conn watched as lust infused her eyes. “For every kiss you take, I will give back to you on your body. And you can start by removing your clothes.”
His cock swelled even more with her brazen words. What would it feel like to have her lips on him? Stripping off his own jacket and T-shirt, his gaze raked over her body.
Arching a brow, he cupped her full breasts, heavy in his hands. Yet, he kept his eyes focused on her face. “You are a rare beauty, Ivy.”
Ivy shuddered from his touch.
Ever so slowly, Conn bent his head and feasted on the soft ivory flesh. She quivered beneath him, urging him on with her gasping pleas of more. He complied. His lust grew along with the size of his cock, straining to be released.
After grazing his teeth across one nipple, she curled into him and moaned. He inhaled her scent, filling him with a passion he’d never experienced in his lifetime. It was a mixture of the land—sweet and primal, and he ached to possess Ivy.
Lifting his head, Conn crushed her to his chest, recapturing her mouth with savage intensity. She speared her fingers into his hair, deepening the kiss and sending them on a spiral of ecstasy.
“You’re intoxicating, Ivy,” he whispered along the side of her neck.
“I’ve never felt this way. It’s almost like…magic,” she murmured as her body arched against him.
Magic? The human world crashed all around him. His mind screamed at him. What the hell was he doing? By the Gods, he was here to help the lass, not take her up against a stone wall. Her body was like a siren’s call—from her voice to the hands that roamed over his skin.
The sound of a lone wolf’s cry startled her, and Conn felt her shiver. “Nearby?” she whispered against his chest.
Conn glanced to the left. “Yes,” he lied, gritting his teeth. The animal was miles away and posed no threat.
She lowered her head against his chest. “You should take me back home.”
“Agreed,” he stated softly. Kissing the top of her head, he gently lifted her off the top of the bridge and onto the ground. Turning from her, Conn tried to ease the pain from his swollen cock, along with the one within his heart. Retrieving her shirt and bra from the ground, he silently handed them to her. Turning back around, he gathered his own clothing. The magic of the moment now shattered.
Raking a hand through his hair, he glanced over his shoulder to find her already dressed. Guilt at almost taking her left Conn frustrated and disheartened. He knew the lure of the full moon. Her power, especially with the Fae was one he had ignored. Buried. Warriors had no need for sex. Only in the Pleasure Gardens of his homeland.
Confusion settled within him as he climbed on the motorcycle. When he felt her arms circle around his waist, desire threatened to spill forth once again. Breathing deeply, Conn fully slammed the door on the emotion.
Starting the engine, he took off more quickly than intended, and heard Ivy’s gasp. His mood so foul, Conn could not fully utter the apology that formed on his lips.
The scenery passed by them in a blur and soon they were approaching the cottage. The moon shone brightly over Ivy’s home, enfolding it in a serene glow. Maneuvering the vehicle to the front, he turned off the engine. She quickly got off the bike.
Remorse riddled through Conn. He owed her an apology for his actions. However, the words remained frozen within all the other emotions. “Ivy,” he said in a hoarse voice.
She stood in front of him. Placing a finger on his lips, Ivy shook her head. “Don’t you dare say you’re sorry for what happened out there, Conn MacRoich. I have never felt so free in all my life. Thank you for the ride, though I believe we should only remain friends. Deal?” She extended her hand outward.
Stunned, Conn blew out a frustrated sigh. Grasping her offered hand, he reluctantly replied, “Deal, Ivy O’Callaghan.”
“Good.” She released his hand and added, “I’ll be at the Celtic Knot early, so I’ll leave the key under the mat for you.”
He followed her with his eyes until she softly closed the front door. Conn remained for several moments. The lass had surprised him once again, and he tried to reason why this mere slip of a human female had his guts twisted inside out.
Even now, her taste lingered on his mouth. “Good-night, Ivy,” he whispered into the darkness and started the engine.
By the time Conn reached the home of Sean Casey, he wanted to do only one thing. Parking the motorcycle, he bounded the steps. Pulling out his keys, he unlocked the door. Light glowed from the library as he made his way in that direction. Walking inside, a blazing fire greeted him, but no Sean. The man had most likely found the comfort of his bed.
Moving to a large cabinet behind Sean’s desk, he opened the maple doors. Sean had one of the finest collections of single-malt whiskey, and Conn was going to sample an entire bottle, or two. Reaching for a glass, he pulled down a 21-year old bottle. “Excellent,” he murmured. He strode over to one of the leather chairs and sank into its embrace.
Pouring a hefty amount, he downed the fiery-amber whiskey in one swallow. Refilling his glass, Conn continued to belt the drinks back. Nevertheless, the burning liquid did nothing to soothe the ache and longing he felt within his body. “I should have never touched you, Ivy. You’re now under my skin, and I don’t know how to get rid of you.” He gazed into the whiskey glass as if it held a solution to his current dilemma.
Tossing back the liquid, he continued to drink, hoping that numbness would overtake his senses. When he had finished the bottle, Conn wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Walking slowly to the cabinet, he reached for another bottle. Not bothering to refill his glass, he guzzled deeply. Wandering back to the chair, he sat and stared into the flames.
“Remember, a Fae’s emotions are heightened. We are not like the humans. We feel more. We taste more. We desire more. Furthermore, as a Fenian Warrior, you must master and hone these feelings. This will become your greatest challenge. Being around humans can make you weak.”
Conn looked at his fellow warrior, Aidan Kerrigan. “You’re older than I, so do share how you were able to chain off all emotions.”
Aidan clasped his hands behind his back. “As your mentor, I cannot tell you how, only that you must. Each warrior is different. We, a select few, are chosen as the keepers between the Veil of Ages. It is an honor to be selected. You are now one of us. To walk the path of a Fenian Warrior, one gives up a great deal—for a greater cause.”
Conn arched a brow. “I have already given up my heritage.”
“Do not include giving up heir to the Fae kingdom to the list of grievances, for it sounds like one to me,” he scolded. “Find a way to shield your heart. Strength, courage, loyalty, and honor. Use these words to build a fortification around yourself. Always remember, you are a Fae among the humans.”
As they continued on the path, Conn glanced at one of the oldest Fenian Warriors. “I will not fail you.”
Aidan chuckled. “There is no failure within the Brotherhood. Only lessons to be learned. Remember my words when I am gone.”
“You are leaving?” asked a stunned Conn. “I have only been training for twenty years with you.”
His mentor clasped a hand on Conn’s shoulder. “Aye. Leaving for Scotland. Glasgow in particular. There is trouble festering, and I have been ordered to investigate. Your training will continue with another.”
“Return to the Brotherhood soon. You are required here.”
Aidan shrugged, gazing off into the distance. “There is something—an unease within me. I almost have a sense that I will not be returning quite so soon.” He let out a sigh, and added, “Continue your training, my brother. Our paths will cross once again.”
Conn shuddered at the long forgotten memory. Aidan Kerrigan, the oldest and most powerful Fenian Warrior—a friend and mentor to many, never did return to the Fae realm. Instead, he renounced his heritage as a Fae warrior. All for the love of a human female. And in doing so, brought down the wrath of his own people.
“I miss your wisdom, old friend.”
The flames snapped and Conn glared back. “I will shield my heart from you, Ivy. If I do not, I fear only harm will follow.”
****
Ivy paced back and forth at the entrance to the Celtic Knot. In a few minutes, the doors would be flung open for her uncle’s wake. Her nerves were wound so tight, she found it difficult to breathe. The entire day was spent in preparations and now there was nothing to do but wait. Everything was ready. The food was displayed on a long folding table to the left of the counter. There was a mixture of appetizers, fruit, and breads. Mac had brought over Irish stout, punch, and bottles of Thomas’ favorite single-malt. Again, the man refused to take any money from her. All was in order. Perfect.
Therein lay the problem. Her mind started to shift to the one man she had pushed aside with the massive workload, and now there was nothing left to do.
Sleep had eluded Ivy after her evening ride with Conn. She’d never sought the comfort of her bed, instead sitting before the fire and gazing into the flames. What made her become so bold with the man? When he dropped her off at the cottage, his look of remorse was written all over his face. But for the rest of her life, Ivy would treasure the memory of making out with Conn MacRoich under the light of a full moon. A kiss that almost went all the way. Did she feel ashamed? Not for a moment. And this bothered her. Finally blaming it on the heady power of the moon, she’d arisen and greeted the new day earlier than expected.
“Are you all right?” asked Nan, touching her shoulder.
Blinking several times, Ivy nodded at the girl. “Yes. I believe it’s time.” Stepping toward the doors, Ivy unlocked them. Opening them wide, she was unprepared for the sight that greeted her.
Dozens of the villagers were lined up waiting to enter. “Oh, my—welcome. Please do come in out of the cold.” She cast a glance over her shoulder at Nan. “Do we have enough food?”
The girl’s eyes went wide. “Plenty.”
As the villagers entered, each greeted Ivy with a nod, kiss, or embraced her in a huge hug. Overwhelmed by the kindness of these strangers, joy infused her spirit to know that they came to honor her uncle. She deemed it a wise decision to open the store in celebration for him.
Moving along the crowd, Ivy chatted with several of the women. They seemed pleased she was staying and told her to seek them out once she was settled. Seeing Sean walk in, she waved to him as he walked over to the bar area.
She wandered near two young girls and bent down. “Have you seen the faery lights in the children’s section?”
They giggled in response. “No,” replied the older girl.
“Follow me,” ordered Ivy.
Entering the room, Ivy stood back and gestured them inside. An audible gasp came from both of them.
“So pretty,” whispered the younger girl.
“Are you sisters?” asked Ivy leaning against the door jam.
“Yes. I’m Becky, and this is my younger sister, Mary.”
Ivy smiled at them. “Pleased to meet you both. Feel free to come anytime.”
Mary pointed to the corner. “Look. It’s a train.” She glanced at Ivy. “Does it move?”
Chuckling softly, she replied, “Yes.”
It was all the encouragement the young girl required and she scampered over to the toy and turned it on.
“Mary adores train sets over dolls,” chided Becky.
Ivy shrugged. “Then make sure you show her the books on trains.”
Soon, other children entered the room, and Ivy silently left them alone. Tonight was one of joy, renewal, and friendships. Making her way to the table, she noticed her uncle’s ashes had been moved to the front near the cash register. A glass of whiskey set next to the urn. But something else was missing. There weren’t any pictures of the man.
Striding over to the counter, she motioned for Mac to pour her a small amount of whiskey. Turning toward the crowded room, she lifted her glass high and gazed at the people gathered. “Thank you all for coming here this evening. I’m sure my uncle would heartily approve of this celebration of his life, especially having it in his beloved bookstore. Even though I didn’t know the man, in just a short time, I have discovered how well loved he was in Glennamore. I encourage you to share your stories of my uncle with me, for I have none.” Holding her glass toward the urn, she said, “May your days be filled with peace, love, and many books to read. Sláinte!”
“And a good bottle of whiskey,” add another.
“Aye!” roared the crowd, their words mixed with laughter.
Seeing Erin walking toward her with another tray of food, Ivy cleared an area on the table. “Smells divine.”
Erin placed the tray down. “One of your uncle’s favorites. Mini sausage and cheese stuffed in puff pastry.”
“I’m salivating,” commented Ivy.
Reaching for a napkin, Erin plucked one off the tray and handed it to her. “I bet you’ve not eaten anything all day.”
“Ha! You’re wrong,” scolded Ivy taking the offered morsel. “I had tea and toast.”
Erin rolled her eyes. “When? At daybreak? Mac mentioned seeing the lights on in here at four a.m.”
“Nope. Tenish.” Stuffing the food into her mouth, Ivy closed her eyes and moaned.
“By the sound, I believe you like them?” Erin laughed.
Opening her eyes, Ivy snatched another one from the tray. “They’re delicious! But I’m afraid I’ll eat them all standing so close to the table.”
Erin waved her hand dismissively. “Eat. There’s plenty back at the pub.” She peered over Ivy’s shoulder. “Nice crowd. Don’t see your sexy man anywhere. Is he coming?”
Ivy choked on her food as the heat crept up her neck and into her face.
“Mac, hand me a bottle of stout.”
Turning away from the woman, Ivy reached for a napkin and wiped her mouth.
“Here, take a sip,” ordered Erin and placed the beer in her hand.
Ivy guzzled deeply. “Thanks. Spicy sausages,” she replied weakly.
Her friend leaned near. “They’re mild. Thomas didn’t like them hot.”
Ignoring the woman, Ivy was about to take another sip when Conn entered the store.
“Ahh…speaking of the sexy man,” teased Erin and nudged her.
Ivy followed his movement as everyone parted when he entered. Most nodded or smiled as he strode to the counter. He took an offered dram from Mac, touched the urn in reverence, and then tossed the drink back.
Friends. We’re only friends. Stop ogling the man!
“Are you all right?” Erin touched her arm.
Snapping her gaze to the woman, Ivy noted the concern on her face. “I’m fine. It’s been a long week.”
“You should wait to open for a few more days.”
Ivy smiled. “No. I want to open on Monday.”
“Well, tomorrow is Sunday, so rest and recharge.”
Ivy squeezed her hand. “Nothing planned but sleep, reading, and eating.”
“Good. Have another bite,” she encouraged.
Waving her off, Ivy immediately sensed Conn’s looming presence next to her. It prickled along her spine as she turned slowly to meet his gaze. “Good evening, Conn,” she uttered softly.
“Ivy,” he breathed her name in a whiskey-laced murmur.
His smile disarmed all the barriers she had built overnight. The room was too confining. Ivy needed fresh air. Not waiting for a response, she mumbled an apology and pushed past him. Stumbling down the steps of the store, she almost collided with a man.
“So sorry,” she apologized.
He steadied her with his hand. “Precisely the woman I came to see. From my contact’s description, you must be the new owner.”
“Excuse me?” Ivy tried to free herself from the man’s grasp, but he kept it firmly around her arm. The look he gave her certainly was not one of friendship. Coldness emanated from those dark eyes.
“Word has traveled that a relative of Thomas has come to stake claim on his land—property that should by rights be mine. I am here to offer you a price you will not want to refuse.”
Ivy lifted her chin. “Not a claim. An inheritance and I can’t sell the place even if I wanted to. Please release your hold on me.”
The man’s smile sent a tremor of unease through her. “There are always loopholes, Miss O’Callaghan.”
She was not going to be intimidated by this stranger. “I will not ask you again to release your grip.”
He snarled at her and leaned closer. “What is a wee thing like you going to do?”
“Nothing, because I’ll snap the arm from your shoulder and feed it to the nearby wolves,” growled Conn, stepping into her view.
Releasing his grip, the man slowly backed away. “Remember the name of Dunstan—Eric Dunstan, Ivy O’Callaghan, and my offer.”
Ivy watched as the man made his way to his car and rubbed the sore spot on her arm. As soon as he drove off, she spat on the ground. “Insolent man!” She glanced sideways at Conn. “Thank you. I’ll have to ask Sean if he knows the idiot. I think we’ve made our first enemy here in the village.”
“Enemies can be slain,” Conn stated, keeping his gaze outward.