The Red Collection (39 page)

‘Hush, don’t be afraid,’ he whispered. ‘Nothing to be scared of.’

Lois huffed out a little breath. Easy for him to say that.

‘That hare … it was you, wasn’t it?’

There seemed to be no way she could get away from him, even if she’d wanted to, so it made best sense to meet the issue head on. She shifted around a little and, adjusting her position, she managed to screw up the courage to face him.

His luminous eyes – both blue and brown – were steady, clear and candid.

‘Yes.’ He gave a little shrug, and his splendid mouth
quirked
. ‘And I was also the bird, down on the beach, yesterday.’

The little well of bravery she’d gathered around her faltered, and she dragged in a great breath, utterly shaken.

‘H-how can that be? How is it possible?’ She shook her head. ‘I mean, I’ve watched
Buffy
and
Doctor Who
and all that … but they’re just stories. Fiction, made-up stuff … You can’t seriously be, um, I don’t know … a shape-shifter or whatever they’re called. That’s just crazy! It’s not possible!’

Robin blinked at her, his glorious face troubled, his brow crumpling. ‘I am what I am, Lois, and I can change form, become other creatures … and be human sometimes.’

Suddenly, a real sadness glittered in his eyes, and Lois realised to her astonishment that the azure and the brandy brown both were shiny with the gloss of real tears.

Human tears?

Her fear vanished. What was wrong? Why so sad? A great need to comfort and nurture surged up in her. It was kind of maternal, and yet not motherly at all. She was too close to him, and he smelt too wonderful and felt too strong to deny more earthy feelings.

‘What’s wrong?’ she whispered, turning her face into his palm, and kissing it impulsively to offer comfort … and more.

‘I’d like to stay human longer, but, after tomorrow, when June arrives, I can’t.’

She supposed there was some great mythology to explain this, and that it would probably be wiser to understand it if she could, but a sudden urgency compelled her to ignore it for the moment. And forget anything but the here and now of Robin, the most beautiful and extraordinary
man
she’d ever met. She was probably being ten dozen different types of brainless bimbo-fools, but, if he had less than twenty-four
hours
in the shape he currently wore, she couldn’t waste a minute debating parapsychology!

And yet, as she took his soft mobile lips in a tender kiss, and breathed in his sigh of relief and happiness, she couldn’t help but see how many things now made sense.

His lack of physical weight and the coolness of his skin had seemed downright bizarre, but she supposed a part of her mind had just not asked questions. Or maybe they had, but those questions had been squelched … because Robin could read her thoughts, and probably manipulate them.

Which accounted for the erotic dreams too, she supposed.

I should be angry … but I’m not
.

Oh, and there’d been other clues too.

His hair and eyes could be explained rationally, but not the sudden uncanny manifestation of wireless broadband and the self-mending computer.

It’s all magic! Robin’s magic …

There was magic, too, in the feel of his mouth, although the delicious contact was far from imaginary. He felt real, completely real, and of the flesh.

He’s a … a … something, and I still want to kiss him. He’s not human, and I still want to fuck him. This is insane, but it makes perfect sense
.

Of course it made sense! If Robin would be gone soon, she had to have him now.

Sliding her hands inside his coat, she pushed it off his shoulders, and then, impatiently, tugged at the hem of his black T-shirt and snuck her fingers under it to cruise his silky skin.

He was cool, of course, but not cold. The contours of his chest and torso were like marble that was just beginning
to
feel the kiss of the morning sun. Flawless to the touch, and almost as hard in its muscular perfection. That was what magic did, she supposed, caressing his abs, and then flickering up to circle his taut male nipples. Why settle for second best when you could recreate a girl’s ultimate wet dream?

Suddenly, she had to see him. In the arboreal sunlight, and maybe for the last time.

‘Coat off, whatever you are,’ she commanded, sweetening the order with a pepper of kisses against his throat.

Robin obeyed, and his grin showed that he’d forgotten his momentary distress and was now into the spirit of things. He slid off his heavy coat, then whipped his black T-shirt off over the top of his head, ruffling his golden-tipped hair endearingly in the process.

What the devil are you?
Lois demanded silently, admiring the sweetly ripped lines of his chest, arms and shoulders.
In fact
, are
you a devil?

Robin shook his curly head and Lois felt a great rush of relief.

‘What then? An angel? A ghost?’

Again, he shook his head.

‘You must be something though … just tell me!’

Leaning forwards, he pressed his lips to her ear and whispered a few words into it, all very low and very quiet.

7

‘Get away with you!’ Lois laughed and reached out to stroke his cool face. ‘You’re too big and butch and macho. Whatever happened to gauzy wings and pointy hats and perching on bluebells and all that? And, anyway, I thought they were all girls?’

‘Oh no.’ Robin smiled slyly at her, his eyes naughty. ‘I can be whatever I want, if necessary, but my natural inclination is towards the male.’ His big hand settled on her cheek, then slid down her throat and her shoulder, before settling on her breast. ‘Especially now …’

His fingers cradled her flesh with perfect delicacy, and his lips were just as apposite as they pressed against hers. He seemed confident, but also a supplicant.

Be with me, I beg of you
, he seemed to say in her mind.
Please be with me, there isn’t much time
.

Lois responded, fighting the anguish that threatened to overwhelm her. She’d finally found her ideal man, but he wasn’t actually a man. She wanted to be with him forever, but there were only a few hours before she’d lose him and not see him again for a year. If then.

She kissed him back hard, letting her own hands wander again over the firm muscular contours of his body. His need, and her own, made her bold. Pushing him by the shoulders, she urged him downwards, making him lie on the turf so she could surge over him and revel in the male splendour laid out for her pleasure.

And his too, really, she supposed. She couldn’t imagine him making himself look ugly if he had the choice.

He tried to reach for her again, but she took him by the hands, and then pressed her lips to his palms, one after the other.

‘Relax, Magic Man, let me explore you,’ she murmured, pressing his arms back at his side, forcing him to lie inert, waiting, accepting. He seemed to be submitting, but the hot glint in his strange eyes told another tale. The King of the Grove was only
allowing
her to play with him. He looked more like a pasha accepting homage than a boy-toy at her bidding.

She touched her fingertips to his chest, flicking them over his nipples and then smiling when he wriggled and made a little sound of appreciation. She let her hand drift lower and the sound became closer to a growl.

His hips lifted when she traced his zipper with her fingernail.

‘I think it’s time we took a look at your wand, eh, don’t you?’

Robin’s strong arms came up, grabbing for her, but she pushed him back down again, tut-tutting and revelling in the way he allowed her to master his strength. For the time being at least.

As if accepting the status quo, he folded his arms behind his head, as a pillow. ‘Help yourself,’ he purred, a twinkle in his eyes.

Lois attacked his belt with gusto, unfastening the heavy buckle, then the button that lay beneath it. The black clothing, the archetypal garb for the dark predator … where did it come from? Were the coat and the boots et al. magic too? A part of him? What would happen if he disappeared while he was out of them?

Toying with his zip, she looked into his face rather than at his crotch, knowing it was quite likely that he was reading her mind.

‘All this – the way you look? Where does it come from? I mean, is it from your imagination, or do you have some sort of … um … template or something?’

‘Inspiration comes from many sources, my sweet.’ His gaze flicked from her hovering fingers to her face. ‘Just as you garner images for your web designs from here and there and everywhere, I gathered them from around me … and from your mind.’

Pausing in her explorations, Lois sat back a little, frowning. Peering at him through narrowed eyes. The face, yes, she could see it now … Familiar elements …

Looking at Robin, she suddenly recognised the likenesses.

One of her favourite actors, yes, there was a bit of him there. And the clothes, she suddenly realised, they came from a different character in a different show that she liked. His nose, faintly snub, she realised with astonishment, was not dissimilar to her own, only bigger of course and innately masculine … and, by God, he even had a bit of a look of the neighbour about him too if you looked closely enough!

‘Well, I’ve never seen anyone with hair like yours before or eyes that are different colours. Where the hell did those come from?’

Robin laughed softly and, defying her edict, he half sat up and reached out for her hands again, drawing them towards his groin area.

‘Well, those touches are uniquely my own. I have to be allowed a little creativity, don’t I?’

‘It’s pretty bizarre though, isn’t it, to have one blue eye and one brown, especially when …’ She crumpled her brow, and peered more closely. ‘Especially when the colours actually seem to swap places from one time I see you to the next!’

‘But I
am
bizarre, Lois, aren’t I?’ His large but deft fingers stroked the back of her hands where they rested against his crotch. ‘But a good fellow all the same, don’t you think?’

The glint in his eyes shimmered like a spinning Christmas firework, and his words seemed to dance and shimmer just as
teasingly
. For a moment, just a tiny, tiny fraction of a second, her paramour seemed to ripple and glitter and become all the colours of the rainbow, then just as quickly, he was simply a man again.

A beautiful big, very male man, with an imposing hard-on swelling in his jeans.

Lois shook her head. Enough already! Enough of this fanciful madness. Robin was completely real, for the moment, and he wanted her. He wanted her, he was gorgeous … and she wanted him right back.

She resumed her attack on his jeans, undoing the button and whizzing down the zip. His erect cock sprang out in a way that was as comical as it was sudden, and before she could stop herself she’d giggled.

Immediately she felt a wash of remorse. Were supernatural male beings as sensitive about their equipment as their human counterparts? In which case, had she mortally offended his feelings and put him off?

‘Whoops!’ said Robin cheerfully, an inordinately proud grin on his face.

No insecurity problems there, obviously. Lois grinned back at him, and reached for the member in question. It was hard, as cool as the rest of him, and silkily textured.

‘Well, I must say I like your magic wand!’

‘So do I, and I … I like it even more when you’re touching it!’

Robin stirred against the greensward, lifting his hips to meet her caresses as she handled him and traced the beautifully defined veins that adorned his cock.

He was thick and long, and the tip was flared and red and hungry-looking with a stretched and open ‘eye’ that was already weeping copious pre-come. Taking a little of
this
satin fluid on her thumb, Lois slowly and meticulously massaged him.

‘Mmm, oh, my dear … that’s wonderful, wonderful,’ he burbled, his eyes closing and his hands clenching and relaxing, clenching and relaxing against the turf as she ministered to him.

Lois had never been a great one for giving hand-jobs. Oh, she’d done it often enough, and been praised for her touch sometimes, but mostly she’d always been keen to move on to more mutual pleasures.

But not with Robin.

To touch him was a joy in itself. His skin was so smooth, so fine to the touch, and holding him and stroking him seemed to impart a refined aesthetic experience that was quite unique. She’d also never touched a cock that seemed quite so very clean before. It was as if it was brand new, and expressly fashioned to please her senses.

Which she supposed, in a way, it was.

Of course, it was totally impossible to resist tasting him.

Inclining over his strong, jean-clad hips, Lois settled her mouth over the crown of Robin’s penis – which, despite being what she most wanted to do at that moment, she still found to be quite a job.

The head of his cock was as big as a shiny ripe plum and ten times as delicious, and she had a dainty and feminine mouth. Her lips stretched around him as she took him inside, and she was aware that she was probably drooling all over him.

I probably look an awful sight!

But when she snuck a peek at him, up the length of his glorious torso, she discovered that Robin was smiling at her with such tenderness, such wonder and such gratitude that her heart turned over with love and a huge desire to pleasure him.

Washing and lapping at him with her tongue, she folded her fingers lightly and ripplingly around his shaft, co-ordinating the actions of her hands and her mouth. She sipped and tasted him, adoring the sweet perfumed, honeyed flavour of him that reminded her more of the old-fashioned confectionery of her childhood than any other man she’d ever given head to.

You’re like the most delicious lollipop I ever tasted!

No sooner had the thought materialised than Robin laughed out loud with joy and cradled her head gently in his hands.

Working with fingers and tongue, and with suction and long sweeping licks, Lois went about her sacred duty with enthusiasm. It suddenly, almost, didn’t seem as if she needed pleasure of her own. This attention to Robin was the sole focus of her being. He’d be gone soon, but, before he went, she’d make him come.