“Ye can be certain, Robyn, I’ll not be complainin’ about the state of ya.”
And then he kissed me without an ounce of tentativeness, like a man claiming what was his. A barbaric analogy, maybe, but in my heightened state of nervous expectancy, it felt crazy good to be claimed. My hands were all over him. Well, not all over yet, but all over his bared skin. I loved the way his lean biceps and triceps bulged as he held himself over me.
“You are so hot,” I whispered onto his lips.
He pulled back. “Are ye too hot?”
I laughed and reached for him. “It’s just a figure of speech. I meant that you’re really… good looking. Come here.”
He kissed me again, but this time his hand found the bottom of my t-shirt. His touch, unlike his kiss, was tentative. My insides fluttered as his hand inched upwards, caressing my stomach and waist. I was insanely nervous about what he would think.
“Yer so soft,” he said. He kissed me again and moved his hand up a little more. “Is this all right with ye?”
“Yeah. It feels good when you touch me.” It was strange to hear myself say that, but the grim reminder that we might only have this night kept me from holding back. We had no time to be shy. I wanted to show him how I felt.
When his thumb brushed the underside of my breast, it was on.
I wiggled and tugged my shirt over my head, tossing it aside and propping myself up on my elbows as if presenting him a gift. I watched as his expression changed from the amazement of a boy to the need of a man. A sound of triumph rose from my throat as he pressed me back with a deep kiss, and the exploration of one another began. We took our time learning each other’s skin, the sensitive spots, savoring each pleasurable response that our touches elicited. We refused to be rushed, not caring if we didn’t sleep at all that night.
And we didn’t.
When the sun dawned on the wide Irish sky, a crackle of magic split the air and a horn sounded. We jumped from the bed, stumbling for our clothes and laughing. Yes, laughing. The blasting horn should have scared us, but we were giddy in our newfound selves—our bound selves—not yet willing to let go of that exquisite feeling. With a parting kiss I ran for the door, only to be gently tugged back. He took my chin so I couldn’t look anywhere but in his eyes.
“I love ye, Robyn of the Leprechaun.”
It was his first time saying it. Moisture sprung to my eyes.
“I love you, too, Kale of the Chaun.”
He grinned and let me go.
I got as far away from his bungalow as fast as I could. The cool morning air felt as fresh and crisp as ever during the mad dash back to my room.
It was prospectively the most terrifying day of my life, and yet, I’d never been happier.
THE HORN TURNED OUT to be a false alarm. It was only the Fae gatekeeper giving a message that the Summer King would, indeed, be honored to attend the binding ceremony this afternoon with several of his court officials. At that news, the mood in the clan became festive once again. The ovens blasted heat, cooking piles of mouthwatering pastries and savory delicacies. Wild flowers were strung together and strewn along tables. Tall, hanging lanterns with candles dotted the perimeter of the clearing, transforming it into a beautiful reception area.
I was smoothing out a large, round sheet of cotton in the middle of the clearing with Leilah, Cassidy, and Rachelle when I heard McKale whisper my name from the wooded area. I sat up on my knees and peered toward the sound, spotting him in the trees. I looked around, but only my sister and two friends seemed to have noticed. The girls snickered as I stood up and jogged to him, unable to keep the smile from my face.
He grabbed my hand and led me into the confines of leafy shade before pulling my face to his for a kiss.
“I’ve missed ye, Bláth mo chroí.”
Flower of his heart. It had only been five hours since we were snuggled warm together, but I’d missed him, too.
I let him walk me backward until I was against a tree. I savored the feel of him, and the taste of licorice on his tongue. I wanted to stay there all day and forget about what awaited us.
We broke away with reluctance at the sound of Cassidy calling from the entrance of the woods.
“Dad’s looking for McKale!” she whispered. “It’s time to get wired up.”
“Okay, thanks,” I answered with a sinking nervousness.
“Happy birthday, Robyn.” He bent to kiss me one last time, nipping my lower lip between his teeth before pulling away and leaving me there to melt back against the tree, weak-kneed. Cassidy came walking into the forest, raising her eyebrows at the sight of me.
“Something tells me our little McKale’s not so shy anymore.”
“Not so much,” I said with a sigh. Cassidy laughed.
“Well, come on, if you can manage to walk.” She held out her hand and I took it.
We passed Leilah and Rachelle who were busy spreading flower petals all around the circle of cloth where McKale and I would bind again. They waved as we went by.
Mom, Dad, and McKale stood at the “technology station.” Dad pinned something on McKale’s shirt as we approached. A wire connected on the inside, snaking around his torso to the back where a thin device was clipped inside his pants.
“This is a video recorder. It should be the right height. Just make sure you remain facing the Faerie. What are you going to do when she gets here?”
“I’m going to pull her aside, Mr. Mason, sir, and get her to divulge her plan once again.”