“You didn’t come.”
He just looks at me. He’s not giving me anything, but at least he’s still here with me.
“Is this some sort of vampire mind trick?”
“No.” His deep voice is too bland. He’s hiding something.
Think, Tinkerbell, slow down and think. “It wasn’t me? It’s not something about me?” I gulp.
His voice is painfully soft. “No, little fairy. It’s not anything to do with you.”
And I know. “Is—is that the curse?”
He slowly dips his chin and gives a single nod.
I stare at him. I just experienced the most comprehensive orgasm of my life. But Charlie’s still hard. And no matter what we do, he’ll remain that way.
I burst into tears.
Charlie’s brows knot together, but he remains where he is.
“I’m so sorry,” I warble. I don’t even know why I’m weeping. “It’s just so horrible.” I swipe at my eyes.
Charlie’s forehead wrinkles. His hands are out as if he wanted to reach for me but stopped. He’s bewildered, his customary arrogance gone.
I throw myself at him, wrapping my arms around his waist. “I’m going to fix it for you... I promise,” I say although I’ve got no clue how I’m going to do it. “You shouldn’t have to live like this. I’m sorry.”
He grasps the back of my neck and brings his lips to my ear, his fang running lightly over the edges of it. Scooping me into his powerful arms, he carries me back to the bed and lays me down, stretching out beside me with his head propped in his hand and an arm around my back. I snuggle close but am careful not to touch his hard cock. Poor man.
“Aurelia,” he murmurs, sounding choked with emotion. “So sweet.” He kisses my temple. “So much fire…” He kisses my eyelids “...so much heart. I’m humbled by your example.”
I run my hand over his chest, then sit up and tug at the hem of his shirt. I want to see him naked, even if we can’t have sex.
He sits up and allows me to remove the shirt.
I toss it on the floor and push him back down, running my fingernails through his curly chest hair, admiring the lines of his sculpted torso. “You’re beautiful,” I murmur.
He looks tired, his face still drawn as if in pain. His cock has relaxed slightly, but still remains engorged.
“Would ice help?”
He gives a bitter laugh. “Don’t fuss over me. Just keep to your studies, little mortal. I believe in you.”
My eyes smart again. I’ve got to release this spell.
I concentrate until a tiny bubble of soft pink light forms in my palm. I send it floating toward him.
He smiles, watching it gently glide toward him. “What is that?”
I shrug. “I don’t know,” I lie.
It’s love. It poured out of my heart and into my fingers as I formed it for him.
“Is it for me? It’s beautiful.” He ducks his head to dodge it and touches it with his finger, only to yank his finger away quickly as if burned. “I can’t have it. Can you tone it down a little?”
I cock my head to the side, looking from him to the ball. I focus on the ball and imagine its light dimmer, its color lighter and softer, so it’s almost translucent, like the bubble a child blows through a plastic ring.
Charlie watches with a tired smile. His fingers stretch towards my creation, fascinated. He cups the ball and ushers it into his chest, where it melts into his heart.
Does he know?
He holds his hand over his heart for a long moment. His eyes are too dark for me to read.
“Thank you,” he murmurs at last, as if touched beyond words.
I shiver, a sense of déjà vu running through me.
Charlie
Telling Aurelia the secret I’ve kept to myself for over one hundred years eases some terrible fissure within me, but it also makes the pain resurface. As if I’ve encapsulated the wound with a protective coating and now that I’ve shared it, I feel the original pain full force.
The pink bubble my little fairy sent seems to go right to the source of my pain, deep within my unbeating heart. It moves me that she would give her gift so freely, without any coercion or bargain, without any promise of return. It’s been so long since I’ve trusted anyone. Maybe not since Anka, and that had been a mistake.
“Why did you scream when I dematerialized?” I ask, staring up at the ceiling.
“I hate when you disappear every time you feel emotionally challenged.” She snuggles against me, throwing one leg over mine.
I snake an arm behind her and hold her against my side. “I do not.”
“Yes, you do. Anytime things get too difficult to handle, you’re gone. It’s your way of not dealing with the present situation.”
“Who are you, Dr. Phil?”
She snorts.
“Where do you go, anyway?” She runs her hand across my chest.