Page 35 of Beyond the Cottage (After the Fairytale #1)

Chapter 35

R iver held up the short cigarette pinched between her thumb and forefinger. “Have you tried it before?”

“Not in years,” Ansel said.

“This stuff’s mellow. It’ll relax you.”

“I’m relaxed already.”

River eyed his bunched shoulders and clasped hands. To be fair, he’d been counting down the minutes until he could politely go to bed. He wasn’t sure what he was doing on these cushions in the first place. He’d returned from the facilities to find Gretta holding hands with Heron, then River had appeared from the ether. At the time, he hadn’t seen any reason not to join her. Now he simply wanted to sleep.

If he could. Perhaps a small drag would knock him out?

“How mellow?” he asked.

“Tell you what. I’ll take a hit, and you’ll breathe what I exhale. It’ll be milder that way, and you can decide if you like it.”

“…Alright.”

River braced her arm above his shoulder and leaned over him. After taking a pull from the cigarette, she brought her pursed lips close to his, releasing a thin stream of smoke.

Closing his eyes, Ansel inhaled. The smoke hit his brain quickly, and his head fell back on the cushions. The years had clearly eroded his tolerance because his vision fluctuated, and his body grew light. But it wasn’t un pleasant.

“What do you think?”

“I’m not sure I can think at all.” To test the theory, he mentally recited prime numbers and got lost at nineteen. Math as whole suddenly struck him as amusing. He grinned, resisting the urge to laugh at its absurdity.

River grinned back. “Not bad, right?”

“Not bad.” In fact, everything felt fine . It didn’t matter if he’d be able to sleep, it didn’t matter that the band’s guitar was out of tune. It certainly didn’t matter that three nereids had begun fondling each other near his feet.

Propping on his elbows, Ansel watched them in fuzzy-eyed fascination, wondering at the logistics.

River ashed into an empty cup. “Do you find us shocking?”

“No.” When she smiled knowingly, he amended, “Well, perhaps somewhat. But I’m not judging you. I’m merely out of touch with all things carnal.”

She shook her head, sea foam curls bouncing. “To us, sex isn’t about that. Carnality is flesh and lust, an empty vessel that can never be filled. We believe in love .”

“I suppose,” he snorted.

“You don’t?”

He believed in love as a concept. It was a biological equation, a series of chemicals the brain released upon exposure to specific stimuli. He knew he’d felt it for Gretta in the cottage. However, when he’d grown up, that part of his brain had withered, atrophying like an under-used muscle. And he wasn’t convinced that was such a bad thing.

River cupped his cheek and turned his face to hers. “ We love you. We love all the goddess’s children.”

“How terribly rational.” At her wounded look, he sighed. “Forgive me. I’m a skeptic and an asshole.”

“You’ve been hurt.”

“Everyone has. Such is life.”

One of the nereids at his feet whipped off her dress, letting the other two palm her breasts and ass. Her male partner produced his pale blue cock for her to tenderly stroke.

Ansel’s groin heated, but his wits were too addled for shame. Like a fool, he looked at Gretta, but Heron had her full attention.

River glanced over her shoulder. “Do you have a special attachment to her?”

“Yes. But she doesn’t share it the way I do.”

Sympathy infused River’s concerned expression.

Ansel sank deeper into the cushions. The smoke was already wearing off, and his brief euphoria faded to gloom. He’d been trying not to think too hard about his life or his future, but it hit him that he only had the barest grasp on either. Finding Gretta had turned everything upside down.

“Ansel…” River took his hand. “Will you let me love you tonight?”

He barked a maniacal laugh. When his eyes returned to Gretta, he found Heron’s arm draped across her shoulders.

Hell, maybe he should accept whatever fleeting comfort River’s arms offered. It wouldn’t be love, at least not by his definition, but he liked her. God knew nothing would stop Gretta if she felt inclined to indulge.

What if tonight she saw someone she liked— good old Heron, perhaps? —and decided to avail herself of a little freely-shared nereid cock?

Would she at least have the courtesy to do it where he couldn’t see?

Ansel’s chest started pumping, and black shadows crept into his mind. They did nothing to block out images of Gretta bent over with someone else’s dick in her.

“Are you okay?” River asked.

Ansel bolted upright. He ruffled his hair, trying to dislodge his dark thoughts.

“I appreciate your offer,” he said. “But I think I need to go lay down alone.”

River nodded. “I’ll walk you to your room.” She stood, offering her hand. Ansel let her hoist him to his feet—she was surprisingly strong—and they negotiated around lounging bodies.

The cool, empty tunnel cleared Ansel’s head, and he breathed deep of the relatively fresh air. At the loot room door, he said, “I truly do appreciate your offer. You’re lovely, I’m just fucked up.”

“You’re as the goddess made us all—perfect.” She kissed his cheek.

“Ansel.”

He turned. Gretta stood in the tunnel, arms wrapped around herself. She wore an expression he’d never seen on her before.

She slowly approached. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Just…don’t.”

River backed away, giving Ansel an encouraging smile, and left the way they’d come.

Ansel’s skin prickled with awareness. He and Gretta were alone again. In a corridor, yes, where anyone might pass by, but a room with a door stood inches away, and his dick was on a hair trigger. He couldn’t trust himself not to do something stupid, like beg her to touch him.

What if she wouldn’t mind a little touching? She let you slake her before. Do you really want to send her off to good old Heron?

Ansel slammed a lid on those thoughts. He hadn’t forgotten the way she’d looked at him after what they’d done on Isobel’s floor. Or how she’d screamed when she found herself in bed with him that very morning.

Ansel opened the door. “I’m going to bed, Gretta. You should do the same.”

Gretta scrambled for any excuse to stop him, some good reason she’d interrupted. None came because she hadn’t thought that far ahead. When he’d left with River, following him had been pure, reckless impulse.

She should make up something stupid and say goodnight. She should send River back to his room and, in the morning, give him a slug on the shoulder, congratulating him on getting lucky.

That was what a friend would do, right?

“Goodnight,” he said over his shoulder.

Gretta grabbed his hand. She couldn’t tell who it surprised more.

There’s time to salvage this, make something up!

Except, the warmth from his hand lit a fire in her entire body. Through his long fingers, she felt the power in his arm, the way he could fling her around like a doll if he wanted.

He’d grown up so damn strong . And brooding. And a bit prone to instability. But instead of putting her off, his darkening expression sent a primitive thrill up her spine.

Pulling his gaze off their hands, he straightened, shoulders going broader. “What is this, Gretta?”

Too frazzled for lies, she answered honestly. “I have no idea.”

He released her hand and backed into the room. Like a impulsive idiot, Gretta followed. She’d never had a talent for denying herself, and just then, she wanted to kiss that dismal look off his face and see where things went. If they stayed friends, how much longer could she resist?

Or…god. What if fucking was inevitable ? A force of nature that was out of their hands?

Would it be so catastrophic if they only did it once? After all, sex didn’t have to be complicated. For her, it never had been before. It would diffuse the tension and solve the mystery. Afterward, they’d brush off their hands and finally deal with each other like normal people.

What if to stay friends, they needed to get this out of the way?

Kicking the door shut, she followed Ansel deeper into the room.

“You should go,” he said, voice gravelly.

“Is that what you really want?”

He didn’t say anything, so she brushed her knuckles over his lower stomach. It flexed as he inhaled, and his hips subtly arched toward her. She hooked a single finger through his belt loop and tugged.

His hand clenched testily. His expression grew suspicious. The fabric between his legs, however, shifted.

She looked up at him. “I just realized I forgot to tell you something.”

“What?”

“I think we should be friends.”

“You want to be friends ?”

Gretta nodded, and a war raged in his eyes. She had no idea what he battled with, but she didn’t mind putting her finger on the scale.

She gave his belt loop another tug.

His eyes cleared. He pulled back, plucking her hand off his trousers. “We’ve been down this road before, Gret. As you might recall, neither time ended well. If you want to be friends, then you really should go.”

Careful not to run him off, she drifted closer. “I need to check something first.”

He put a hand on his hip. Drawing on her replenishing dust, Gretta floated until their faces were level. A loose strand of dark hair clung to his lashes, and she tucked it behind his ear. His eyes fluttered shut. Encouraged, she circled her arms around his neck, leaning in until their noses nearly touched.

A flicker of nerves came like overwrought moths in Gretta’s belly. They didn’t stop her from cupping his chin. His breath hitched. She counted off three heartbeats…

Then kissed him.

He jolted, and they both inhaled through their noses. His firm, warm mouth sent a current through her body, and she needed more. Her lips tugged harder, asking him to give it to her.

I know you want this too, Anse…

He yanked his mouth away. His wild eyes roamed her face like she’d written some impossible equation there. Then they narrowed with…

Pity?

Panic?

Horror?

The moths in Gretta’s belly turned to fire-breathing dragons.

Had she misread the situation completely ? He’d been trying to let her down gently, and she’d—