The Orange Cat & other Cainsville tales (5 page)

“Ricky!” I shouted. My voice bounced around the cavern, meaning there was little chance he’d hear me, even less that I’d hear him.

Time to find the exit.

I dove and made my way methodically around the cave, feeling along the wall. Every time I came up for air, I called for Ricky, just in case, but I suspected my voice wasn’t leaving this cavern.

I kept hunting until—

There! My fingers found the rough edge of what seemed like a passage out. I surfaced for a deeper breath, and then down I went, feeling my way into that gap, hoping it was an actual passage and not just a nook in the rock. Soon I could see light ahead, shimmering through the water.

I swam faster. A muffled sound came, almost like . . . music? As I broke through the surface, I heard the tinkling of bells. The sun had faded, the sky glowing with a weirdly yellow light, as if warning of a coming storm.

“Ricky?” I called, and again, my voice echoed, but what I heard was not
Ricky
but
Arawn
.

I called again. And again I heard that other name,
his
other name. Arawn, Lord of the Hunt. Arawn, Lord of the Otherworld.

I shivered and kept swimming. I could make out the shore ahead, but it seemed to waver, like I was looking at it from underwater. That yellowish light pulsed, and the bells tinkled. My hands touched down on the shore, and I felt rock. Warm rock as if warmed by the sun. I lifted my head over the ledge and—

I was looking at a distant golden castle, that yellow light shining from it, the tinkling bells coming from it. I gripped the ledge and started heaving myself up. To my side, deep in the dark water, I caught a flash of skin.

“Ricky?” I said, and heard,
Arawn?

The figure swam up toward me. I saw flowing blond hair and exhaled in relief. I pulled myself up onto the ledge, turned to face the water, and said, “You need to see this,” and heard my words come out in Welsh.

The figure swam up, still almost hidden in the shadowy dark water. I leaned out to extend my hand. Another hand broke the surface. Pale and slender. A woman’s hand, wrapping around my ankle and dragging me into the water.

Three - Ricky

“Liv!”

Ricky stood on the rock over the swimming hole. He’d undressed as fast as he could, but she should have surfaced by now. As he squinted down at the dark water, though, he couldn’t see as much as a ripple.

He bent his knees to jump and then locked them.

Sure, land on top of her when she’s coming back up.

He jogged down the sloping path and cut through the brush for a shortcut. And, yeah, running through brush and bramble while naked wasn’t the most pleasant experience, but the scrapes and jabs didn’t bother him.

He made it to the swimming hole and stood on the grassy shore, hunting in vain for ripples.

I’ve lost her.

Again.

That was Arawn, being as unhelpful as always, the voice deep in his head, like a long-dormant memory surfacing. Which it was. Old fears resurrected whenever Liv disappeared even for a split second. His heart would pound with Arawn’s terror and self-condemnation, the memory of losing Matilda to the fire.

The fact that Liv’s visions meant she
routinely
disappeared really didn’t help.

One last booming shout of “Liv!” Then he leaped into the water and dove. He started under the overhanging rocks, but when he went down from there, he just kept descending until that alarm in his brain sounded, like an oxygen gauge hitting the half-full mark. Surface or you won’t make it back.

He swam up and broke through, gasping for air and looking about as his heart pounded.

Stop and
think
. If Liv was hurt, she’d float, not sink like a rock to the bottom.

The swimming hole wasn’t manmade, which meant it had plenty of nooks and crannies where she could have gotten caught.

Or where she could be hiding.

He shouted for her again, and when she didn’t reply, he knew “hiding” wasn’t the answer. She’d have heard the panic in his voice and come out.

He swam toward the first hollow and dove to check it out. Then on to the next.

She had to be here. She’d hit her head or something, and he had to find her. If Liv got hurt, Gabriel would kill him.

Okay,
kill
might be an exaggeration. It’d be the cold death of exile to the wasteland of people Gabriel didn’t give a shit about, which encompassed most of the population. Ricky had been inching out of that wasteland, proving he was more than just the biker kid Liv hooked up with. Which would change if Gabriel discovered they’d had a close call on this trip.

Arawn failing again. Failing Matilda. Failing Gwynn.

Ricky dove. He was twisting around when he saw a flash of pale skin, like a fish darting by.

Liv.

She must have been hiding underwater when he’d shouted, not realizing he’d been frantically searching. Just another round of hide-and-seek, their favorite game. Well, second favorite. Chase always came first for Ricky, a true son of the Hunt.

He reached to grab her, but she zipped behind him. Her hand cupped his ass, fingers tickling across it. He grinned, a little too broadly, swallowing water. He swam up just enough to break the surface for air, careful not to move so fast she’d think he wasn’t enjoying the attention. That attention continued, fingers on his ass and then on his thighs, tracing between his legs and . . .

Fuck, yeah. He closed his eyes as she lightly caressed him, her fingers almost tickling. A bit of a tease, and then those fingers would wrap around him, firmly, knowing what he liked. An extended tease this time, though, and he let her have it, enjoying the soft caresses. When that stopped, he waited for that firmer grip.

Instead he heard her break the surface behind him, coming up for air, but when he turned, he caught only a flash of skin as she dove.

He followed that pale streak. She stayed deep, swimming beneath him and then coming up, right in front, and what wrapped around him this time? Not her fingers.

He chuckled. Well, that was unexpected. Not unwanted, though.

Hell, yeah. Definitely not unwanted.

She continued to tease him, now with lips and tongue, sliding over him and then away, and he resisted the urge to encourage her to stay a little longer. She was playing, and this was perfectly fine as an appetizer.

Her lips moved over him, pulling him in deep.

Yeah, perfectly fine.

When she swam away, he waited patiently. He heard her break the surface, louder now. Then she chuckled, and there was a splash as she dove under.

He saw her clearer as she swam around him at waist level. Her fingers found his thigh again, less tickling, more caressing. They continued on until . . .

That was better. Her fingers wrapping firmly around him, expertly moving, making his eyes roll back as he hissed a breath.

Hand still on him, Liv surfaced, grinning. “Well, hello there.”

He grabbed her around the waist, pulling her into a hard kiss . . . while forgetting that he kinda needed his arms moving to stay afloat. They went under, Liv laughing and sputtering, her hand breaking contact as they resurfaced.

“Smooth as always,” he said, making a face.

“Enthusiastic is better than smooth.” She swam back to him and traced her fingers across his stomach. “Shall I continue?”

“Hell, yeah.”

She smiled as her fingers wrapped around him.

“You can continue the other part, too,” he said. “If you want.”

“Other part?”

“The underwater blow job?”

Her hand stopped moving. “I . . . wasn’t . . .” She paused and then let out a whoop of laughter. “Oh-ho. It seems someone was enjoying the attentions of the resident water fae. No wonder you were ready for action when I swam up.”

“What?”

His expression made her laugh again, and her hand closed on him, lighter now, more teasing, but not as light as earlier.
This
was Liv-teasing. Not the stuff he’d had a few minutes ago.

Shit.

“Resident water fae?” he said carefully.

“Something grabbed my foot and yanked me out of an underwater cavern. You got a whole other kind of yanking. I’m jealous.”

He had to laugh and relaxed, letting himself enjoy her ministrations again. The fact she’d resumed them should suggest she wasn’t the least bit upset that he’d been inadvertently enjoying
another’s
ministrations, but he had to consider the possibility. This was Liv, though, not the kind of woman who’d give him shit for enjoying something he’d mistakenly thought came from her.

“So, underwater blowjob,” she said. “I’ll have to try that.”

“Feel free. Anytime. Now would be awesome.”

A chuckle. “True, and I will . . . but first, I believe we have a mystery to solve.”

“It can wait.”

“Mmm, no, I don’t think it can. Let’s see. If I stop doing this”—her hand fell away—“and move out of the way like this”—she swam backward—“will our mysterious water nymph return?”

She swam a little farther. “Head this way so you can get your footing.”

He followed, and when she motioned for him to stop, his foot hit the rocky bottom just as a pale shape swam past.

“Uh . . . ,” he said.

“I see.”

The fae swam around his hips. Her fingers reached out again to caress his thighs.

“You want me to catch her?”

“Well, you could try, but I think it makes more sense to let her settle in. Distract herself. Unless you’d rather she didn’t.”

“Would
you
rather she didn’t?”

Liv grinned. “If I did, I wouldn’t be suggesting it. But if you’re uncomfortable with this particular game, just say so.”

The fae’s fingers moved between his legs and found what they were searching for.

“I wouldn’t say
uncomfortable
,” he murmured.

Liv’s grin grew. “Then enjoy. And since I canceled the earlier performance, this one seems like a fine substitute.”

He slitted his eyes and groaned softly, doing exactly as ordered and enjoying. When the fae’s lips went around him, he opened one eye to check Liv, saying, “She’s—”

“Oh, I can see. Not well, but enough to know exactly what she’s doing. Is it good?”

“Good enough.”

“Excellent.” She said that genuinely, no hint of discomfort, of unease, and while she watched him, he watched her, pupils dilated, teeth biting her lip.

Fuck, yeah.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to replicate the don’t-need-to-breathe part,” Liv said. “Damn. I may be outmatched.”

“Nah. She’s a bit of a light touch. Having you watching, though, definitely elevates the experience.”

“Kinda hot?”

“Fucking hot.”

“Good. Mind if I take a better look? For study purposes. So I can properly replicate the experience.”

“Go for it.”

Liv slipped under the water. She was careful, but the fae broke free and swam off, gone in a flash.

Liv broke the surface and gulped air, saying, “Shit, I’m sorry.”

He answered by pulling her into a deep kiss then saying, “That was just the amuse-bouche. This is what I want.”

He carried her to the bank, still kissing. When he started boosting her up onto the rocks, though, she said, “Uh-uh,” and scooted out from his grip, presumably remembering the game, and he was about to say fuck that, he’d forfeit. But she was only turning him around, now putting his back to the rocky edge. Then she kissed him again, her arms around his neck, his around her waist. He started easing onto the rock, boosting her up to straddle him, but she held back, saying, “I do believe I promised something else entirely,” kissed him on the chin and started working her way down.

“You don’t have to,” he said.

She grinned up at him. “I want to. I’ve been inspired.”

“I sure won’t stop you, but I’m not sure how well it will work when you can’t breathe underwater.”

“Inspired
and
challenged. No fae mermaid is showing me up.”

He was about to say that wasn’t possible, but she was already under the water and . . .

He arched back into the rocky wall, eyes closing as his hips rose to meet her. The fae’s efforts had been a very fine tease, particularly with an audience, but this was what he wanted.

When he heard Liv come up and gasp for air, he reached to pull her the rest of the way, to say that was good enough, but she’d only surfaced for breath and then went back down and fuck, yes.

He reached under the water, his fingers in her hair, careful not to hold her down but wrapping his fingers in her hair as she moved.

He closed his eyes and remembered her expression, watching him, curiosity and genuine pleasure and excitement, watching as—

Thunder rolled through the sky, and while that might make a perfectly fine metaphor, when he looked up, he saw actual lightning flash.

Liv surfaced and the thunder came again.

“Damn,” she murmured. “That’s not good.”

He started to say it was fine, put his hands on her head and guide her back down and—

Lightning flashed. While they were standing in a pool of water.

“Fuck,” he said.

“Don’t worry. I won’t leave you hanging. Just give me a minute.”

She started going back down.

He put his hand on her arm, stopping her.

“No?” she said.

“Pretty sure there’s a game in progress,” he said.

She smiled. “I’ll give you a pass on this. Just let me finish before that—”

More thunder, and he was acutely aware they were under trees and in water, and while part of him—a very particular part—said fuck it, the pause was enough for him to reconsider not just the weather but the game.

Did he really want a quick blowjob before the storm rolled in? He might have been grumbling about the game, but he
had
been enjoying the tease. The build up. When it ended, he wanted a helluva lot more than a quick fix—for both of them.

Ricky put his hands under Liv’s arms and hoisted her up. “Sorry, I know you want to, but unless you forfeit, I’m afraid you have to wait.”

“Damn. I was just getting the hang of it.”

“Well, if you want more practice, there’s a town nearby, and it’s late enough to stop.”