Page 57 of Short Stack 3

“Lie on the table,” he commands.

My dick thumps in reaction, but propriety takes precedence. “We can’t do anythinghere,” I say.

He cocks his head to one side. “Why?”

“Well, someone might see.”

“The gardeners have all gone home. So, it is just the birds and us.” He looks around. “Oh, and Demeter,” he says and takes his T-shirt off, throwing it over the pretty statue’s head. “She is aterriblegossip,” he says in answer to my stare. “I do not wish the garden statues to know the things we do.”

“I’m fairly sure they already have a good idea. We shagged in the cascade in the summer.”

His look becomes heated. “Ah, what a memory. That cool water over our naked bodies.”

“Hiding behind a rock without our clothes is an equally evergreen moment.”

He laughs, his head thrown back in merriment. “Who knew it would take Lawrence the gardener so long to eat his lunch?”

I shake my head, unable to stop the twitch of my lips. “Where are you going?” I ask as he steps back.

“To get something. Take your clothes off and lie on the table.”

I’m scandalised and rather aroused. It’s a funny combination. “Just like that?”

He nods and then checks. “No, wait.” He reaches over the railing and waves his hand over the table. I hear the sweet, silvery bell sound — an indicator of his magic — and when I look down, the tabletop is no longer rough and rotting but a sleek,polished piece of wood. “No splinters for my Barnaby,” he says solemnly.

I smile at him, hopelessly charmed. I watch as he walks away, disappearing onto the lower tier.

“Naked,” he calls.

We’re completely hidden here beneath the honeysuckle canopy, and the only sound is birdsong and a bee buzzing in the lavender bed nearby.Am I going to do this?I chuckle and start to take off my clothes.You bet I am.

Once my clothes are in a neat pile on the chair, I look down at the table. Feeling rather awkward, I arrange myself on it. The wood is sleek and warm beneath my body. I lie there, my brain racing, but gradually, my mind eases, and I begin to focus on the feel of my skin as the sun caresses me. A little breeze springs up, making my nipples tighten, and I realise I’m stiff and throbbing. A sound nearby makes my eyes fly open in alarm, but it’s just Cosmo.

He comes up the steps, his arms full of greenery and his eyes hot. “What a lovely sight,” he says hoarsely.

I come up on my elbows. “What are you up to?”

He chuckles. “I bring treasure, Barnaby.”

“And what would that be? More ancient gold?”

“Better than that.” He spreads his hands, and his palms are full of violas, the tiny flowers bright splashes of colour in his big, tanned hands.

“Mrs Flint is going to be cross with you. The kitchen uses those as garnishes in the café.”

“I shall put them back.”

“Pardon? And how are you going to manage that?”

“It will take just a little magic. So, what do you think of my treasure?”

“I love that you see this as better than ancient gold.” I eye him. “What are you going to do with that treasure?”

“I am going to cover your body in them and then make love to you.” I gulp, and he smiles. “What a lovely way to celebrate the end of summer.” He nods at me. “Lie back.”

I obey him, feeling my pulse thrumming.

“So beautiful,” he breathes.

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