Moving on Again

It's my fifteenth trip over the pond. I've been staying with cousins near and far, throughout Ireland, gearing up for a whirlwind tour of my newest book. At the moment, I was lodged with my current man, ensconced in his picturesque cottage in the hills. We were packed and ready for the next leg of my trip, three days in the Highlands of Scotland, so he could go back to work.

He'd been asking me for the past three months to come see his work. Since he usually works half naked and covered in fake blood, I was ready and willing, now that my new contract was nailed down. We flew into Glasgow, met the hired car, stowed all our bags and relaxed during the hour drive.

He made it a point to notice the little patch of rose flowers, the stone graveyard high on a hill, the little things lots of others don't pay attention to. Those same little things that were slowly but surely, wrapping around my battered excuse for a heart, making my brain fall into a stupor.

I snuggled into his shoulder, listening and watching out the window, enjoying the warm cocoon we'd woven around us. Almost in love again, you fool. I thought to myself, watching fields go past, seeing the blurs of purple heather, red azaleas.

I tried to push that pesky memory of Kian back into its lock box, but it exploded into my brain, flinging bits and pieces of the three and a half months we spent on his tour of Europe.

I saw the bouquet of wildflowers he'd picked, the petals still pressed between the pages of my family bible, the flicker of candlelight over his face as he made passionate love to me, through the wild thunderstorm.

Finally, I beat these wonderful, painful, aching memories back, locked them up and threw away the key.

I looked up into Phelan's strong, calm face, seeing his steadiness, his surety of self, his adoration of me in his eyes.

"Almost there. We're on the outskirts of the city." He rumbled against my forehead, pressing a kiss beside his words. "Twenty minutes, unless we hit traffic." I was excited to see what a television set up was like, inside and out. More excited to see Phelan half naked and covered in fake blood.

He rambled softly, telling me about the nearby village, the little pockets of heaven he'd found and wanted to take me to. I could feel his enthusiasm slowly filling the car, my heart, as he described the waterfall he'd found. "...and when we're tired from swimming in its pool, we'll lie on its shingle and make love until we can't anymore."

"Phelan, you're insatiable." I had to laugh, sitting up, smiling into his warm brown eyes.

"Yes, with you." He growled through a smile.

"We'll be there for days." I snorted, making him laugh.

Our driver pulled through a chain link gate with a security guard and pulled beside a long low trailer. Phelan led me out, into the fresh, clean air of the Highlands. Our bags were being seen to by a few interns as he went into the trailer, checked in sort of.

He took my hand as we walked toward the actual set, leading me past the main hall. I goggled at the size and scope of the details embedded in them. He led me into a huge, fancy shmancy motorhome, which he introduced as his home away from home.

All our bags were already sorted out and put away, as I turned in a circle, seeing the living space, a couch and a couple of chairs with a table beside where the driver would sit.

"This, though, is the piece de resistance, come see." He led me to his bedroom, which was mostly bed. "Biggest bed I could fit in here." His voice was husky in my ear, his lips soft at my throat. "Come try it out." His hands had already slid my jacket off and were busily sliding under my sweater, grasping and kneading my breasts.

"Oh, Phelan, mmm." I gave in to his mouth, losing myself in this passion, in this wonderful pleasure.

"I can't get enough of you, Dari. Come to bed." I was ready and willing, when a knock sounded on the door. "Damn. I'll be right there." First it was the producer. Next, came the make-up girls, snickering and giving me half-hearted dirty looks.

It was parade day through his motorhome. Everyone, right down to the animal handler came by. By then, it was late and travelling had caught up with me, so I snuggled into his bed as he kept on with whoever was out there now. I felt him slide in beside me and curled up around him.

He rolled me onto my back, slowly sinking into me, filling me completely. He drove me up, tossed me through the crashing waves of orgasm as he rode me roughly. I let loose a low howl as he plowed and plundered me into more and more crashing waves. I hung on limply, reveling in his stamina, his prowess, his enthusiasm. I felt him stiffen, jerk, come in me, collapse.

I felt adored and special, loved even, but I knew something was missing, something small, but very important. Phelan shifted onto his side snuggling me close and warmly, slipping into sleep beside me.

I woke up alone, in his huge bed. He'd given me the rundown of what his schedule would be like, so after glancing at the clock beside the bed, I knew he'd more than likely be on set, rehearsing. I showered, had breakfast then wandered out to explore.

I listened carefully, hearing faint shouts and clanging steel, and headed in that direction. The cast and crew were about a quarter of a mile from where the trailers were parked, in a wide open field, enacting a war scene.

I spotted Phelan in a blink. He was swinging a war hammer with a fierce scowl on his handsome face, looking so delectable splattered with fake blood. I stood in the crowd behind the cameras, watching avidly, listening as the director shouted out instructions. I felt someone sidle up beside me, glanced over to find Kiandra MacQuarrie, the female lead, standing beside me, watching me.

"Good morning." I said softly.

"Good morning. How do you like it so far?" she asked, gazing steadily at me.

"It looks extremely difficult but it's still thrilling."

"It is. Phelan's never brought anyone to the set before."

"I didn't know. Is it prohibited?" I asked, feeling a frisson of worry.

"No, it isn't. It's just that the hours are interminably long. Most people think its all glitter and red carpets, servants and special treatment, which it's not. Shooting days are pretty frustrating, at best. We all get irritable and overtired, pissed off for some small mistake, another take. So far, only Thierry's wife has managed to stay with him without fighting. My own lover won't come back, he says that the real me gets lost when I'm on set."

"A warning? What? Be patient? Go home?" I asked, turning to see her beautiful face, calm and composed, but shuttered.

"Something like that."

"Never fear, I'm only visiting before I start my tour. I'll try not to be too much of a distraction." I don't know why what she said pissed me off but it did, like I was here just to fuck everything up.

"Please, don't misunderstand me. I'm not warning you off, at all. Phelan was the happiest I've ever seen him, this morning. I hope you continue to make him happy and I'd be really upset, mostly with myself, if I didn't try to explain how this fucks up our real lives."

"Alright, I get it...kind of."

"I hope we can become friends." She said with a smile that lit her inner beauty.

"Me too." I watched her walk to her mark; ready herself for her entrance into the scene.

She looked every inch of the warrior queen she was portraying, regal and fierce, ready for battle. I found an out of the way spot to sit and continue watching as she entered into the fray before the cameras.

In the melee before me, the battle waged, halted, and replayed three or four times until the director called cut for lunch. Phelan met me, covered in dirt and fake blood, with a firm kiss.

"Do you have any idea how much of a turn on it is to see you like this?"

"Really? Let me see..." he said, sliding his hand down my side to reach between my thighs, giving my mons a rough rub. "...hmm, quite warm. I bet it's nice and wet."

"It is...and all for you..." I was sliding under the spell his lips were creating, falling.

"I'll be thinking of you instead of my scenes...and how you'll be squirming under me later..." he mumbled against my mouth, as his hands continued roving over me. "...I have a surprise for you tonight."

"Do you now?" I grinned up at him.

"That I do...and I think I'm more excited about it than you will be. Are you hungry?" he held my hand in his as he led me to the commissary.

"A little...but mostly for you....but I can wait."

"Hmmm, might turn into one of your stories."

"It might."

"It will, that I promise." I looked up into his warm hazel eyes, seeing lust, seeing want, feeling like I'm somebody special, precious.

In the eight months we've been dating, he has surprised me quite regularly, mostly with visits, nights of passion, mornings of quiet whispers, dreams. Occasionally he'd send a gift, a trinket or some little item that caught his eye when thinking of me.

Once, he'd sent me a diamond and amethyst bracelet, as much as it had stunned me I'd tried, unsuccessfully, to make him return it. He'd laughed his ass off at my discomfort, telling me that he'd buy whatever he wanted to, whenever he wanted to and to just say thank you. I wore that bracelet every day, letting his generosity bring a smile to my lips.

We both put some food on our plates from the buffet type luncheon and wandered over to where Kiandra, Thierry and his wife were sitting. Thierry's wife, Justine, welcomed us warmly, introducing herself to me.

The look on her face when I told her my name was priceless. Her jaw hit her chest; her eyes were almost popping out of her head, almost like the real Iron Man had sat down.

"I'm really nobody special..." I began.

"If you think that, I can tell you this, you're so very wrong." Justine began. "Thierry and I are still together thanks to you and your books."

"Well then, I'm glad to have been helpful." I said with a shrug. Phelan paused eating for a minute to glance over at me, his eyes unreadable.

"You really don't see yourself that way, do you?" Kiandra asked, munching on her salad.

"Like what way? A celebrity? No, I don't. I'm just a goofy woman who fantasizes a lot and I get paid to share them. I'm not important in that way."

"Do you have any idea how much you've helped people like us?" Thierry asked, setting his knife down. "We've had a few bumps and pot holes in our relationship. We came really close to giving up on each other, completely giving up. Justine read your first book while I was filming the first season. She came to the set one weekend and I found my wife again, fell in love with her all over again, all thanks to your stories, your fantasies."

I had never realized that. Had never thought about it like that. I stared down at my hands in my lap, not sure what I should say, if anything.

"Dari...look at me." Phelan whispered in my ear. I did. "He's just blown you away, hasn't he?" I nodded, confusion running wild in my brain. "This is just one reason why...I'm finding myself in love with you. Your simplicity. You accept, you're not actively seeking the spotlight, and when it does highlight you, you're humble and honest. Grounded, sane." I shook my head, not really believing his words, his declaration. "Yes, it's true, I am in love with you, falling deeper and deeper by the minute."

He took my face in his hands, his thumbs caressing my cheeks. His hazel eyes were sparkling, joyful as if he was thoroughly enjoying my confusion. I couldn't say anything. My gift for words vanished. Was I in love, falling or fallen, with him? Falling, possibly. I knew he meant a great deal to me, knew I enjoyed every moment spent with him, but was that love?

"I can hear your mind whirring like a chipper. I've tossed you on your arse, almost as thoroughly as Thierry did, haven't I? It's alright; think about it, my love. Walk with me back to the set." I nodded, rose from the table.

I met Kiandra's eyes as I did, seeing a true offer of friendship there, smiled at her as I took Phelan's hand. Our bodies brushed against each other as we walked. I glanced up into his face often, seeing love in his eyes, every time they met.

"You have a lot to think about now."

"Yeah, I do. Phelan, I...you know I feel a lot for you. I am hesitant to call what I feel love."

"I know. Get your laptop, you think better with it. Maybe you'll find another fantasy." He smiled, kissed my hand. His eyes were warm and mischievous, a distraction from all the heavy thinking. I smiled back, nodding. "Back to work...give me a kiss..." he leaned in and took one, and took the one I gave him too.

I watched him walk over to the makeup area, watching as they sprayed him lightly with some liquid, moistening some of the fake blood, adding more, painting and splattering it on. Kiandra passed me with another friendly grin as she joined Phelan.

Phelan caught my eye as he shook out his long, thick hair, I motioned my laptop, watched him nod as one of the techs patted fake flesh to his chest. I passed Thierry and Justine, as I headed to Phelan's trailer, locked in a tight embrace, mouths meshing together, hands gripping.

Something I wrote gave them the opportunity to rediscover their love, their passion, I thought, keeping the image of them in my mind. Was that pride I was feeling? I don't know, but it was a good feeling, warm and satisfied.

I climbed into Phelan's trailer, setting my laptop up on his little kitchenette table, and with hesitant fingers, waded through the confused morass of my mind. After writing my thoughts in my journal, my brain took off on a tangent and my fantasy world possessed me completely.

I have no idea how much time passed before Phelan returned, finding me typing away to beat the band. He dropped a kiss on top of my head before mumbling something about a shower and dinner in town. I heard the water start beating against the wall behind me, thoughts of Phelan in the shower brought me back to reality.

I saved the story I was working on, shut down my laptop and headed into the micro bath in the bedroom. The shower was way too small for me to join him, so I settled for sitting on the bed, listening to him tell me about the afternoon shoot.

"...poor Thierry...though the scratch blends in with his character's warrior persona, like it belongs there. Still, five stitches." Through the clear door, I watched him soap up, watched the rivulets of water and suds stream over his chest, his abdomen, down his massive legs, feeling my pulse beating in my loins, aching for him.

He spied me watching, a knowing smirk spreading over his face, and started soaping his cock. I watched it grow, my mouth first going dry, and then drooling with want, as it grew larger, thicker and deep purple.

"Your face tells me how much you want me, my cock." I nodded, licking my lips, hungry to taste him. "Sorry, love but you're going to have to wait. At least until after dinner." He rinsed the last of the suds from his beautifully built body as I was drooling in want, need, fixated on his cock.

"You said something about dinner in town?" I asked, tearing my eyes away as he wrapped a towel around his waist.

"I wasn't sure you'd heard that. Yes, we're going to town for dinner, The Havenside with Jonas, the director. I hope you'll enjoy the food, because the conversation will be all about tomorrow's shoot. They have an incredible Shepherd's pie."

"Mmm, love Shepherd's pie." I grinned, watching him dry off, slipping into a pair of faded jeans, a thick, warm sweater in deep smoke, and his loafers.

"I'm really hoping you'll enjoy your surprise tonight." He murmured against my lips.

"I'm sure I will. I've enjoyed almost every one."

"Yes, you have, my love. C'mon, quickest done, soonest begun." He said, leading me outside to the car that was waiting for us. I climbed in beside him, snuggled up against his side as he shifted into first and drove. I tried burying all those thoughts I'd had earlier but I just had to let my thoughts spew out.

"Phelan....about earlier...I think I'm falling. It's different with you, which I really like, and it's befuddling to me sometimes. One minute, I'm sure and the next I'm baffled and wondering what I'm doing."

"You're still not over Kian yet, are you?" his voice dropped low.

"It's been over eleven months. Yes, I am."

"If you were over him, I'm pretty sure you'd be..."

"Phelan, I am over him. He left me hanging, swinging alone in the middle of a shitstorm of epic proportions. I don't take that lightly. He said he loved me and when I needed him, needed his support; he blew me off like I was some two bit floozy. He broke my heart. I don't know why you keep bringing him up."

"Sometimes, I wish you'd never met him."

"Sometimes, I do too. Phelan, you hold my heart in your hands, whether you realize it or not. I am here with you. I'm here, wanting you, only you."

I gazed into those hazel pools, hoping my feelings toward him were true, honest. They felt like they were. I really wanted to make this work with him, but he keeps bringing Kian up. Maybe I'd be surer about how I feel if he didn't keep throwing my ex in my face.

Over eleven months have passed since Kian dropped me like a fresh, smoking hot lava rock. I was still in extreme hate level 9, which means if I saw him on fire, I wouldn't even piss on him to put him out. I might just roast marshmallows. Fuck him, long pork bbq for the homeless...wait no, I don't want to poison anybody...burn him and bury him. Yep, that's my plan...if I ever see him again.

I just couldn't make Phelan understand that...even when I said just that to him. He'd laughed and praised my viciousness, but still, just when I think I've got a clue about us, it's as if he's a frickin magician and poof, here's the Kian card in the deck and everything changes, shifts.

"I see you...here with me...wanting me..." He smiled, "...and sometimes there are clouds in your eyes...and I'm hoping....really hoping it's me that put them there...that it's me you're thinking of." He slid his hand from the shifter to my thigh, caressing gently.

"It is." I smiled back. "Just this afternoon...I was thinking about that waterfall...and you..." I watched his smile broaden.

"Have I ever described it to you?"

"Not in detail but in general."

I put my hand over his, moving it higher on my thigh, sliding, rumpling the silk skirt. He slid his hand under, his fingers seeking my heat. I leaned back, letting his fingers work their magic as his voice lulled me as he described the pool, the shelves, the gentle pounding from the water and the mossy bank where he wanted to lay me down, drive me wild.

"...ah, my love...I'm sorry I can't finish you off but I need to shift...and we'll be there in...a few minutes." I looked over at him, watched as he down shifted, merged into traffic. He shot a glance at me, seeing my grin. "...uh-oh...I know that grin...dirty girl..." he up shifted, changed lanes and took a right, drifting just a hair. "...as long as you behave...remember..."

"Jeez...I know how to behave in public. Wow!" I sat up straight, cocking my head, looking at him bewildered.

I guess being American meant I eat with my fingers. I shook my head and turned to look out the window, missing the entrance to The Havenside. It sat in the middle of the block, small shops surrounding it on either side, like guards at a palace. Which, in a way, it still was, I guess.

A humongous stone building, once the fortress of John the Avenger, was now mostly, a bed and breakfast. As we walked in, I noticed the signage for tours and pamphlets of attractions, and grabbed a couple, shoving them into my purse, much to Phelan's amusement.

"I can give you the history of this place, if you like." He rumbled in my ear as we were led to the director's table. Introductions were made around the table as we sat.