Fairyville (Fairyville #1)(22)
Author: Emma Holly

"What if it was a woman?"

Alex was completely still, completely focused on Bryan’s response. Bryan’s c**k got a few ounces heavier. Even if he’d been averse, it would have been hard to pass up an option that so obviously floated Alex’s boat. He could hardly imagine what it would be like to see him more turned on than he’d been tonight.

"It would still depend on who it was," he said slowly.

"You’re attracted to women?"

"Sometimes. I’m just not ready to give up men to be with one long term, and that’s what most of them seem to want."

Alex’s face lay inches from his on the pillow. He was holding Bryan’s hand against his chest, and now his heart rate had picked up. Bryan suspected that if he looked down between their bodies, he’d find Alex’s former steel-hard stiffness recovering. As it was, Alex’s pupils were as big as dimes.

"You really like this idea," Bryan said.

"Oh, yeah." Alex’s voice was soft. "One of each is something I’ve never managed to arrange."

"Two of either?" Bryan asked, his interest piqued.

Alex threw his head back on a quiet laugh. "Two men," he admitted, his eyes dancing. "And four women once. That was fun. They were curious lesbians."

"Get outta here," Bryan said, his jaw dropping. "You seduced four lesbians?"

"They seduced me. I think they wanted the crowd for moral support."

"Don’t tell that story to a straight man. He’ll want to strangle you on the spot."

"As long as you don’t want to strangle me."

"No," Bryan assured him, pausing for a jaw-cracking yawn. "I just want a good, long nap."

He felt himself sinking under almost as soon as he closed his eyes. If he hadn’t been so tired, he might have stopped to wonder whether he and Alex were actually forming a more-than-friend bond. He also might have wondered whether anyone but a masochist would waste his time hoping that was true. Fortunately for his peace of mind, he was too relaxed to give either worry his attention.

By the time Alex and Bryan’s interesting postcoital conversation had wound down, it was black outside, the kind of black you could only find in a town where the sidewalks rolled up at ten. The sole light in the room came from the cheap clock dial.

Alex discovered he didn’t mind sharing the bed with Bryan. His partner was easy to be with, no matter what they were doing. Considering what he knew about Bryan’s feelings, this surprised him. Alex would have thought he’d feel awkward after his lust had been slaked. But maybe Bryan’s crush was wearing off, now that he’d finally had what he’d been longing for.

Alex shifted on the covers, a frown he wasn’t sure what to make of pulling at his lips. He debated getting under the sheets. The room was cool, now that they weren’t so busy trying to suck all its air into their desperate lungs. The atmosphere felt thick against the sweat drying on his skin. It reminded him of something he couldn’t put his finger on.

Oscar Pruitt, he thought, right before he made paper fly.

His eyes snapped open in time to see the bucket-size boulder hovering above their heads.

"Rock!" he yelled, which wasn’t the most informative thing he could have said, but at least he had the presence of mind to grab Bryan’s shoulders and roll him with him off the bed.

"Whuf?" Bryan grunted as they crashed to the floor.

The boulder fell with an impressive thump.

It was followed by a hailstorm of fist-sized rocks.

"Hey!" said Bryan. "Who punched a hole in the roof?"

Alex yanked him, still half asleep, into the lee of a tall bureau. "It’s not the roof. I think it’s a poltergeist."

"I thought you said this room had a ghost."

"Yeah, well, ghosts don’t throw rocks."

The rocks weren’t just being thrown; they were materializing out of thin air.

"Sheesh," said Bryan as one missile chipped a splinter off their impromptu shelter’s door. He wasn’t panicking, but his body was all cold sweat, his pulse racing inside his elbow where Alex’s hand had clamped onto him. "Maybe we should say a prayer or something."

"Be my guest. I’m going to turn on the light."

The switch shot sparks when he dashed to it and flipped it on, but the overhead fixture worked. As if confused by the burst of illumination, the rocks stopped falling and just hung.

Bryan goggled at their motionless state, forgetting his prayer in awe. "No wonder people only stay one night."

"I don’t think this is usual." Not taking any chances, Alex crouched beside Bryan again. Still the rocks hung in the air. Alex was panting with adrenaline, but not quite ready to flee. This was a mystery, and solving them was their job. He cocked his head at a strange, low sound. It was almost too deep to hear, like a whale calling to its brethren beneath the sea.

Assuming, of course, that a whale could sound evil enough to make skin crawl.

"Do you hear that?" Bryan said, suddenly twice as breathless as before.

"I hear it," Alex answered grimly, "and I think it’s time we got out of here."

The rocks resumed their pelting mere seconds after they did.

Zoe couldn’t immediately identify who was on the phone. She was still fuming at Magnus and his idiotic blather about her offer to sleep with him being a "gift." If she wasn’t sexy enough for him to go all the way with, he should just come out and say it. Being nice didn’t make things better, it made them worse. It encouraged her to keep hoping. She could have kicked herself for thinking she could seduce him, and could have kicked herself even harder for letting that blessed kitten interrupt.

He’d brought her to the edge so fast it was shocking, as if his fingers had powers her favorite vibrator lacked. If she’d just let him continue what he’d been doing for ten more seconds, she could have had her first non-self-induced orgasm in the last two years. That, at least, would have been slightly less pitiful to share with Teresa—or not share, if she’d decided to be a lady about the thing. Now, whether she told Teresa the truth or not, there’d be nothing but pitifulness inside her. Stupid, maudlin, pitifulness.

"I’m sorry," she said to her caller, pressing her palm to her forehead in an attempt to get her brain to follow a single track. "I’m afraid I didn’t catch what you said."

Mrs. Fairfax from the Vista Inn was on the line, her voice so frantic and high that Zoe realized her lack of concentration wasn’t the only reason she hadn’t understood.

Mrs. Fairfax drew a gusty breath, obviously trying to pull herself together. "You have to come to the inn," she said, her pitch now at a level beings other than dogs could hear. "There’s something wrong in Room 410. I think the ghosts have gone mad."