Page 33 of By the Fae

I kept my mouth shut.

“You humans are so quick to stereotype every other species, but you lot are all the same. It’s so predictable it should be funny.”

I didn’t know if Goldie was aware of the complete hypocrisy of that statement. But, yeah, he was right. About the game, that is.

He should make it about love.

If he was looking for a way to make his game more universally appealing to humans, human women in particular, that was it.

“So,” I began, “if you know the answer . . . what’s stopping you?”

He shook his head and just stared at me. The heels of his hands covered the points on his ears and his fingers interlocked around his nape. After what seemed like forever, he rubbed a palm over his face and blew out a breath.

“No. I can’t do it,” he said, perhaps more to himself, and crossed over to the window to gaze out at that magnificent view. I wanted to join him, to see if I could spot my apartment. If he lifted me up a little, I’m sure it’d be there, twinkling next to the waterfront. But I stayed where I was, giving him whatever space he needed to brood over absolutely nothing.

Another twenty minutes passed. Longer, perhaps. During that time, I’d replied to three emails, and shot a quick message to Abby.

Going terribly so far. Amazing apartment though. No D yet.

Suddenly, Goldie stood beside me, peering down at my phone. “Do you want to eat or fuck first?”

“What?”

“You hungry?”

Goldie cooked for me. Some fae dish, I think. It was a bit like a burrito, spicy and tomatoey, wrapped in soft doughy bread with grilled fish and lots of coriander and lime. We sat side by side at his dining table.

“This is lovely. Very tasty,” I said, conscious of coming across too friendly.

He nodded, and then we ate in silence while I tried not to dread what would come after dinner. Occasionally laughter floated down through the ceiling, either feminine, or so deep it felt as though the entire kitchen was rumbling.

It was my idea. This, for want of a better word, trade off.My idea, not the rake fae’s. I wanted this. Needed it, really. But it wasn’t too late to pull out. To put an end to it before it even began.

On the outside, Goldie was flawless, obviously. A perfect specimen of a male fae, in a thousand and one ways. Tall, impeccable hair, flawless face. And I was approximately an hour away — if I could drag this out — from seeing how flawless the rest of him was.

And letting him see just how human I was. Soft protruding belly, stretch-marks on my hips, cellulite, small boobs that were once perky, but are slowly letting me know they’re planning on migrating south for the rest of my life.

I was sure my swallow could have been heard from the Human Realms.

I cleared my throat. “Why are you so against the theme of love? For the game, I mean. I get why you don’t ever want to fall in love”—I didn’t, not really—“but if love means nothing to you, why not make the game about it? You know it makes sense to.”

Goldie looked sideways at me, took a mouthful of burrito, paused it halfway down to his plate, and speaking around his food, he said, “So, nobody, besides yourself, has ever given you an orgasm?”

My hand clanged against the table, rattling the crockery. Goldie simply stared into my eyes, a smile ghosting his lips. I shook my head, the word “no” seemingly impossible to say aloud.

“Because your sexual partners were awful, or because you’re too uptight?”

Wow, this man sure made it easy to endear himself to me.

I sighed and cocked a shoulder. “Maybe both? I don’t know. It takes me a while to, you know, and I’m very conscious of . . . boring them.”

And I can never seem to get out of my head. To stop thinking and analysing every tiny detail and ministration. Do I look okay? Are they getting close? Why is it taking them so long to get there? What if my sex faces are putting them off? Are my sex noises embarrassing? Are they loud enough? Did I forget to reply to that email? Are they disgusted by my squishy tummy? Am I doing it wrong? Should I just fake it so I can get dressed already?

Goldieassessed me for a moment. “You’ve only been with human men?” I nodded, and he was quiet again. I would have loved to know what he was thinking. He sucked at his teeth. “It’s not ayouproblem. It’s athemproblem. You didn’t choose your sexual partners with enough care. I take it they always managed to finish?” He didn’t give me an opportunity to answer before ploughing on. “Don’t worry, I’ll have you coming so hard and so often you’ll end up pulling every one of your puny little human muscles.”

I had to thump myself in the chest to stop from choking on my burrito. How do you even respond to that?

“Uh . . . Thanks?” I squeaked.

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