Hair of the Dog (12 page)

He tossed a grape in the air, catching it in his mouth.
“Geothermal heat.”

“So really it’s just a hot spring like any other hot
spring?” Her fingers skittered atop the water.

“Maybe so.” He tossed another grape, this time missing. The
morsel bounced away, rolling into the water. “Try telling that to the people in
Mystic.”

Unbuttoning her blouse, Ivy sighed and said, “I guess we
should get this thing done.”

“Way to suck all the romance out of saving the town.” Grant
had already kicked off his shoes and was well on his way to being shirtless
before he finished the sentence. His pants quickly followed. Her clothes lay in
a heap next to his.

She straddled his body, leaning in to drop a kiss on his
lips. “Speaking of sucking.” Ivy began kissing a path along his jaw to his
neck. Inching lower, she sprinkled a haphazard trail of kisses down his chest
and circled his navel.

Springing up suddenly, she asked, “Did you just spit on me?”

Grant spread his arms wide, palms to the sky. “How could I?
And, more importantly, why would I?”

She returned to her previous objective. Grant gathered her
hair in his hand, weaving his fingers into her locks, encouraging her with a
gentle tug to continue her descent down his body to the rather large evidence
of his desire for her. Ivy dragged her tongue along the length of his shaft
from the base to the head of his cock.

Grant closed his eyes and groaned. Opening his eyes, he
said, “Ivy, honey, I want to taste you too.”

He didn’t have to tell her twice. She spun around, kneeling
astride his face, because she wanted what he wanted. Grant pulled her hips
lower to sample the honey of her pussy, his tongue slowly gliding along the
crease between her nether lips. Finding her opening, his tongue slid inside as
he kneaded the flesh of her ass.

“Oh,” Ivy moaned her endorsement for his brilliant idea, but
found it difficult to concentrate on pleasuring him while he pleasured her.
“Yes, Grant. Yes.”

His only reply was his tongue lapping at her clit.

Determined to give as good as she got, Ivy again ran her
tongue along his shaft, only this time from the tip to the base. His response
was a throaty growl and two fingers planted deep into her pussy. Ivy couldn’t
control her hips as they moved against his fingers and tongue with a mind of
their own. Grant rolled his hips forward as well.

The spitting she had noticed earlier turned out to be a
sprinkle of warm rain that soothed her prickly skin and kept her focused on
pleasuring him when all she wanted to do was selfishly grind her pussy against
Grant’s lips until he satisfied her completely.

Wrapping her mouth around the head of his cock, she skimmed
her lips down to the root. Sucking, Ivy slowly slid her lips to the head,
creating as much resistance as needed to grab his full attention. He paused to
moan, but curled his fingers fiercely into her passage as if playing catch-up.
It wasn’t a competition to come first, but if it was, Ivy was sure she was
winning. He drew her clit into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the bud.

It wasn’t long before random drops of rain plopped on and
around them. Undaunted by the weather, the couple continued to kiss and lick
and touch, exploring every moan and gasp. The warmth radiating off the spring,
combined with the heat of their passion, kept the cold at bay.

The only sound besides the quiet hum of their lovemaking was
the splashing falls and the rain splatting onto the earth and water. The scent
of wet earth rose from the ground and filled the air. Ivy struggled to focus on
why they were there. To save the town, but the heat brewing inside her stole
her attention. To keep from coming, she focused on her love for Grant, which
she had yet to affirm or acknowledge out loud.

He hadn’t avowed his feelings of love since the night of the
dance. At the time, she had suspected his declaration was a ploy to get her here
to do this. For that reason and so many others, she hadn’t returned his love.
At least not verbally. He was too handsome, too successful and way too sexy to
settle for her. She knew it. He had to know it too.

Ivy couldn’t give him what Molly had, but she could give him
every part of her body. And maybe, just maybe, she could leave her mark on
Mystic by being the siren who saved Mystic Springs.

As she rhythmically raised and lowered her hips to and from
his lips, a thick heat bubbled within her. Searing lips pressing firm against
her cunt caused the warmth to spread. Battling tongues and nipping lips
continued as the rain showered them with drops of warm and cold.

Ivy worked his cock feverishly with her hands and mouth,
matching the intensity of his attention to her pussy. Her legs quaked next to
his head. She feared collapse when the burst of ecstasy exploded through her
entire abdomen. She steadied herself with one hand planted on the solid ground.
Her other hand gripped around Grant’s cock.

“Yes,” she whimpered, her back arching up and swaying down.
“Oh yes.”

Her hand repeatedly constricted and released around his
shaft with no conscious thought, keeping time with the spasms ripping through
her pussy. She muttered and mumbled and mewed through the ripples of blazing
pleasure.

Grant groaned as he came in her hand.

Ivy collapsed next to him and enjoyed the splattering rain
shower from above, letting the wetness cool her tingling skin. Grant kissed her
ankle, and then turned himself around to lie next to her.

Kissing her, he said, “That was incredible.”

She swept his wet hair off his forehead. “Make love to me?”

He pulled Ivy into his arms. “With pleasure.”

They kissed, rolling back and forth atop the blanket as the
rain fell on and around them.

He squeezed his eye shut against the battering showers and
finally announced, “This isn’t going to work.” With a laugh, he added, “I’ll
drown.”

Ivy laughed too. “Should we bag it and try again some other
day?”

“I have another idea.” Sadly, his idea involved unwrapping
himself from her and grabbing a heavy-duty flashlight, of all things. He slung
the strap of the light over his head and shoulder. “Follow me.”

“Like this?” Except for a few pieces of cheap jewelry, Ivy
was pretty much naked. Him too.

When he splashed into the water, she had little choice but
to follow. Skinny-dipping seemed unsanitary, not that a bathing suit acted as
any sort of germ barrier. Grant did a breaststroke towards the middle of the
spring, reminding her of a bare-chested lifeguard she’d seen in a calendar.
July, if she remembered correctly. She followed in poor form, switching between
a lesser breaststroke, her signature frog imitation and a dogpaddle. Ivy swam
much better in her dreams.

Grant stopped near the falls to tread water and wait for
her. Catching up, she turned her face toward the rain that continued to fall.

“Ready?” He grinned.

Shaking her head, she said, “Ready for what?”

“Take a deep breath,” he advised.

“I’ll do no such thing,” Ivy protested.

Grant looped his fingers around her wrist. He took in a deep
breath.

Oh no!
Sensing it was too late to run, and you can’t
run in water anyhow, Ivy inhaled deeply. Plus he could obviously not only
outrun her, but also outswim her. Grant pulled her into the torrent of the
falls. She’d barely taken in the darkness of what appeared to be some sort of
crevice or grotto behind the falls when he plunged under the water, pulling her
with him. She struggled automatically out of her fear of the unknown, the dark
and potential death.

The flashlight lit up, but she still clung to her fear of
the unknown and death as he dragged her through the water that swirled between
warm and cool, just like in her dreams. She’d never been a great swimmer or
able to hold her breath long. Her trust in Grant kept her legs kicking,
propelling her forward when her instinct screamed to turn back toward the light
and air.

They pushed through the surface to a cave. Darkness. Again,
just like in her dreams. She expelled the burst of air held too long in her
lungs, along with some water.

“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t think you’d come willingly.”

Ivy coughed. “You’d be right.” Looking all around with only
the light of the underwater flashlight he toted over his shoulder, she asked,
“What is this place?” The falls were barely audible any longer. Or maybe she
only thought she could hear it. “I’ve been here. In my dreams.”

“All shifters come here in their dreams. Some come for real.
Like our Mecca or Jerusalem or Vatican.” He placed the flashlight on a rock
ledge, the light bouncing off the walls of the cave. “You feel it?”

She felt an undercurrent of cold water cutting a path
through the warm. “It’s cold.”

“Not that.” Treading water, Grant pulled her to him. “Do you
feel
it
?” He covered her lips with his, swirling his tongue in her mouth
like the water swirled around them. “Feel the force and power of the water
penetrating your skin.”

“Magic,” she whispered.

“The current isn’t usually this powerful—or cold,” Grant
admitted. “But you do feel the…the magic.” He’d use her word for lack of a
better term.

He’d heard the sensation described in many ways. Power. Life
force. Rejuvenation. Restoration. Folks were trusted not to tarry long or often
in the waters these days. What you absorbed wasn’t necessarily replenished as
quickly as it used to be. Or so they were finding with the current drought.
Then there was the risk of a Mystic Springs hangover if people binged on the
water for long stretches of time. More was not always better when it came to
the waters of the spring.

Grant found his footing on a rock ledge. Leaning against the
embankment, he continued kissing Ivy. Still clinging to the rock with her hand,
she wrapped her free arm around his neck and her legs around his waist. He
slipped easily into her willing body.

“We shouldn’t,” he said, his jaw clenched from desire
denied. Her warm pussy tightened around his cock, welcoming and inviting him to
stay.

“It’s okay.” She moved against his body. “I’m using birth
control.”

He needed to confess that the waters not only worked as an
aphrodisiac but also a fertility treatment. Twins and triplets weren’t uncommon
in Mystic. He knew a few guys who double wrapped their package before coupling.

“We can’t,” he said, not trusting himself to pull out in
time.

“I’m not ovulating,” she said, reassuring him with kisses.
“I’d know if I was. Besides, this is fate. This is what we’re supposed to do. I
know it. I feel it.”

He felt it too.

He wiped water from his face. “Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been surer.”

The notion of creating a life with her stirred a wave of
emotion starting near his heart. The sentiment rose to his throat. He choked
down a swell of tears for everything fate had taken away from him in the past
so that he could be here—now—with Ivy in the present, hopefully saving the town
of Mystic Springs. Grant swallowed his fear that he and Ivy might not have a
future beyond this pivotal moment. If they shared nothing more than a
combustible elixir of magic, would they wake tomorrow out of love with each
other?

Grant thrust up. Ivy slid down. They moved together as one
unit with a common task.

The churning water wasn’t making their mission easy. Grant
felt the pressure of generations of ancestors and the town’s people weighing
heavily on him. He pushed them all away to the back of his mind, along with the
memory of Molly. This moment was about him and Ivy and solidifying what they
shared together.

They clutched each other firmly, clinging to this moment. He
fought to inch closer inside her, hold her tighter than ever before as water
rose around them in a whirlpool of enchantment.

“Grant,” she called out over the sound of the water rushing
and swirling around them, “I love you.”

He had to believe it wasn’t the magic talking. Grant
searched her gaze for the truth. Her eyes were dark like the cave but even in
the dark there was a sparkle of gold flecks he’d never seen before.

“I love you too.” He felt his love explode into Ivy and her
body quaking around him in response. The sweet union proved to be the most
satisfying he could ever recall, the climax pulsing from head to toe, lingering
in every muscle. His pleasure blinded him momentarily to everything around him.
They clung to each other for the longest time, kissing and caressing, savoring
the aftermath of their lovemaking that left him feeling weak and spent.

Ivy shivered in his arms.

“We should think about getting out of here,” he said. The
water around them had risen to shoulder level. The rain outside must be coming
down in a torrent to flood the cave in such a way. The opening to the outside
wasn’t even visible, but he knew generally where it was. He should. He’d been
here enough times, but never had he seen the water so high in the cavern, or as
wild. He never thought he’d see the water even half this high again.

“How?” Ivy clung tighter to his neck.

“Follow me.” Grant tried to pry her clutch from around his neck.

She shook her head. “No.”

“Ivy. Honey. The water has me worried.” He didn’t want to
frighten her. But she needed to be aware of the danger. Her grasp became
painfully tight. He’d seen this before as a lifeguard. A victim could panic and
drown their rescuer with them. He’d gladly die for her or with her, but he’d
rather they both lived. “I need you to listen to me, sweetheart.”

The water was splashing against his shoulders. She had to
follow him through the narrow passage. They couldn’t fit through together
without possibly getting stuck or injured. She began climbing him to get to the
ledge where the flashlight rested. The ridge wasn’t deep or wide enough to hold
a person.

“Ivy! Don’t panic,” he pleaded. “Trust me. I love you.”

She settled down, relaxing into his arms. His feet slipped
from the outcropping, sending them both splashing into the water.

“Go!” she said.

“Not without you!” he shouted over the rush of water.

Water sloshed into her mouth. “I’ll be right behind you.”
She coughed the water out.

“I don’t believe you.” When Grant reached out and grabbed
for her, Ivy slipped under the water and out of his reach. Fate could not
demand their deaths as sacrifice for the entire town. He couldn’t accept that.

He sank into the water, reaching out to grasp for her until
he needed to come up for air. With no luck, he took a deep breath and pushed
off the rocks into the water. Darting in one direction, and then the other, he
emerged out of breath, sides aching and drained from fighting the current.
Grant took another deep breath and submerged, going deeper and farther than
before. All he encountered was the biggest rainbow trout he’d ever seen. Maybe
Ivy had found her way out. If he pursued his assumption and was wrong, she
could be lost to him forever.

Breaking through the surface, he slapped his hand against
the water and shouted, “Ivy.” Over and over, he called to her as the water
around him rose. The fish circled, diving and resurfacing. “Ivy?”

The fish jumped, splashing into the water near him.

“Oh my God.” Struggling to tread water, he groaned. “I love
a fish.” Somehow, he knew the fish was Ivy. The fish was larger than normal,
true. Huge, even. It didn’t necessarily look like Ivy or act like her, Grant
simply knew it was Ivy.

Ivy disappeared from view and he followed, spotting her up
ahead in the murky water. She slowed, waiting. Grant fought to catch up. When
he did catch up, he reached out and grabbed her tail. The fish dragged him
through the cave opening with the current. He felt the warmth of the hot spring
embrace him. Once safely on the other side of the spring, he let go of Ivy’s
tail.

Popping up through the surface, he shook the wetness from
his hair and spun around searching for the fish. For Ivy. The rain had slowed
from a torrent to a sprinkling. The water level of the pond was substantially
up, sloshing against the rocks and greenery of the embankment, threatening to
crest the banks and flood the area.

Turning the other direction, Grant spotted Adam Griswold on
the far bank with a net. Ignoring Grant, Adam’s attention remained focused on
something in the water.
Ivy
.

“Adam! No!”

Adam dipped his net in the water, scooping out the fish.
“Got ’er.”

Ivy flopped around on the shore next to the spring, still
trapped in the net. Grant swam in her direction.

“Don’t come no closer.” Adam held a club up menacingly. His
intentions were clear. “I’ll be a folk hero. I’ll be remembered forever, the
bear what saved the spring from her evil sorceress ways. I must eat her flesh.”

Grant stopped to tread water near the middle and panicked,
knowing how much bears loved fish. “Think about this, Adam.”

“She’s the one,” he insisted.

“Yes.” Grant inched slowly closer. There was no denying her
power. “She is.” Enunciating every letter, he said, “Get her out of the net.”
If she took her human form while tangled in a fishing net a quarter of her
size, it would be disastrous.

Adam’s eyes darted between Grant and Ivy. “She’s an evil
witch.”

“No.” Grant swam a little closer to the shore. “She’s no
more a witch than you and I are monsters. Please, just get her out of the net.”
At least that way she’d have a chance. Time ticked on as she suffocated.

“You’re tricking me.” Adam slammed the club against a rock,
making Grant cringe at the possibilities. “You think I’m stupid.”

“I think the spring is healed,” he said. “Ivy made it rain.”
The pond was visibly up several feet from when they’d first arrived. It was
higher than he’d ever seen it. Even Adam had to notice the improvement. “Can’t
you feel the power of the water in the air?”

“No, she has to die.” Adam squatted to remove the netting.
Ivy flopped with less energy.

“Careful, Adam.” A flash of panicked heat coursed through
Grant. “Adam, please.”

Adam picked her up by the tail, dangling her in the air as
Ivy wiggled for her freedom. Before their eyes, she transformed into an eagle,
flapping her powerful wings and screeching her distress. Startled, Adam cowered
and released her to flight. Ivy soared majestically, calling to Grant in a
language he couldn’t decipher. All he knew was that he needed to act fast.
Hopefully she wouldn’t shift into human form and fall from the sky.

Grant swam to the opposite shore. Looking back over his
shoulder, Adam was stripping away his clothes. In a wolf to bear fight, after
everything Grant had been through over the past couple hours, grappling with
the spring, he wasn’t sure he could take Adam. He knew he could outrun him, but
what if Ivy returned? He doubted she had complete control over her shifting.
She was no doubt confused, disoriented. Looking into the distance, she was a
dot in the sky above the tree line.

Keep going, sweetheart
. Grant scaled the embankment
to find Adam not six feet away in bear form. He stood tall on his hind legs and
growled ferociously like only bears do. Grant shifted painfully quickly. His
skin felt on fire, his fur standing up in ire. He barred his teeth, snarling
and yapping. The bear came down too close for comfort, landing on all fours.

Adam swiped at Grant with a powerful paw, just missing as he
leapt away. Up in the sky above, Ivy called out in an anguished scream as she
circled. Her appearance stole Adam’s attention for a split-second. Grant took
the opportunity to sink his teeth into the heavy fur at his neck. Adam tossed
him aside as if he were nothing more than nuisance and rose up to standing
again. He roared.

Ivy landed on a rock near the pond. She blinked.

No, Ivy. Fly away
. She didn’t. Had she lost her mind?
Or was she attempting to draw Adam away from him? He didn’t care for either
scenario. Grant placed himself between Adam and Ivy and growled a warning to
the bear. To his surprise, Adam landed firmly on all fours, turned and ran off
into the woods. Grant stood firm, waiting until Adam was out of sight before
circling to find Ivy flanking him in wolf form. Not only Ivy, but Jack Crump
also, along with several other wolf Brothers closing ranks. Ivy pranced closer
and he licked at her lips.

As a wolf she was every bit as beautiful as she was as a
trout and as an eagle. The tips of her fur were reddish, giving the illusion
that she was somehow on fire. Her eyes picked up the blue of the sky with
flecks of green from the trees surrounding them.

Grant dashed off into the forest in the opposite direction
as Adam’s retreat. He stopped long enough to see that she followed. He cut a
path between trees, leaping over fallen logs with Ivy right on his heels. The
others darted through the forest behind them, with them, running in
celebration.

* * * * *

The town square was alive with music and merriment. A
carnival stood erected in a nearby field. Food vendors lined the streets and
people milled around. Ivy loved and hated the attention of the townsfolk
thanking her.
Thank you for what? Swimming naked in your namesake water
feature? Fornicating?
Stuff you normally get arrested for in civilized
society. Thank goodness she didn’t live in civilized society. Anymore.

She spotted Grant making his way through the throng of
festival-goers, every second or third person patting him on the back for
screwing the magic back into the spring. “I couldn’t have done it without Ivy,”
he was fond of saying. Ivy saw his lips moving and smiling, imagining him
saying the words that often made her blush.

She wasn’t convinced they’d done anything.
Hello!
It
rained. It rained a lot. Off and on for several days. The water nearly crested
the creeks scattered through the hills and valleys of Mystic. Would it all
hold? Or would the
magic
evaporate in a week’s time? Ivy had no idea.
She could be in the proverbial doghouse by summer if the water didn’t maintain
an acceptable level.

Grant cupped her cheek with his hand and kissed her lips. He
was convinced they’d saved the town for good, or so he’d said. “Hey, honey. How
are you enjoying Ivy Days?” he said teasingly.

She groaned. “Kill me now. But first, buy me some cotton
candy.”

“Sure.” He fished around in his pocket for money.

Seconds before she was to take possession of her fluffy pink
prize of death-by-sugar, a commotion erupted somewhere close by. The live music
stopped. Ivy bounced on the balls of her feet, eager for Grant to dig deeper
and faster for money before some catastrophe came between her and her empty
calories.

Grant being Grant, the fixer, he pushed through the crowd to
get to the bottom of things. “What’s the trouble?” Sometimes she wished he were
a postal carrier.