Sometimes it takes Liv a while to get to the good stuff.

"You had a pet deer," I say.

"Yes. Its name was Clover."

"When did we have sex?"

Liv arches an eyebrow. "I thought you wanted me to tell you about my dream."

"Yeah, but maybe without so much backstory."

She sighs as if I'd said I wanted to read the Cliff's Notes version of a literary masterpiece.

"My pet deer," she says pointedly, "was named Clover. You wanted to bring her back to your camp for dinner. But when you moved to raise your bow and arrow, you stepped on a twig. Both Clover and I heard the noise. She ran off into the forest, and I hurried to try and find my gown, which I'd left on the shore."

"You were naked?"

"Of course I was naked. I was in the lake, remember?"

"Why were you naked in the forest if there was a threat of marauding elves?" Two can play at this game.

"I told you," Liv says. "I lived in a peaceful fairy district."

"But if warrior elves were taking over the forest district by district, you should've known about the danger and not gone skinny-dipping in the lake."

Liv folds her arms over her chest and frowns. She's trying for annoyance, but the position of her arms pushes her breasts up and out and makes her look damn sexy.

I want to lick her nipples. Instead I force my gaze back to her face.

"Okay," I say. "So maybe there was a treaty between the fairies and the elves that they'd leave your district alone. So you thought you were safe."

Her expression clears. "Yeah, that's good. I mean... um, something like that. Anyway, I was hurrying to the shore when you stepped out from behind the trees. You pointed an arrow at me and told me not to move. Then you realized I was naked."

"Took me a while."

"The sun was at a weird angle, so you couldn't really see at first. Then when you came closer, I grabbed my gown and held it in front of my wet body. You said you had to take me back to your camp. When I refused, you asked what I'd do to earn my release."

She stares at my mouth and settles back on my thighs. I shift so my erection slides against her pussy.

"What'd you say?" I ask.

"That I... um, that I'd do whatever it took. I had to get back to my village."

"Had to find your pet deer."

"Yeah." She lifts a hand and rubs her thumb across my lower lip. "So I said I'd do whatever you wanted. I was already... aroused, you know, being naked and in the water with the sun hot on my skin. And then you were there, all big and imposing with this tight leather vest and long hair..."

"Long hair?"

"You were an elf." She wiggles a little against my thigh. A jolt of heat goes directly to my cock. "You pulled my gown away so you could stare at my naked body, all glistening with water droplets. The sight of me made you crazy with lust."

She slides her hand down my chest to my stiffening prick. Her breasts move as she takes a breath.

"Then what?" My voice is getting hoarse.

"Then you ordered me to press my breasts together because you wanted to fuck my cleavage."

"And you did."

"Sank to my knees before you'd even finished giving me the order," Liv whispers.

My gaze goes to her full, round breasts which I actually haven't fucked in some time. I groan at the thought, shifting to ease what is again turning into an almost painful erection. My cock swells against Liv's hand.

Her eyes widen. "Nice recovery."

"Nice dream."

I figure my elven-self and her fairy-self both got off good and hard, but I'm no longer interested in the details. I reach up to fondle one of her breasts, running my thumb over the peak.

"Get on your knees."

She shifts to the floor, easing herself between my legs. I lift her other breast and push my cock between them.

"Oh, God, Dean..."

"Do it."

Liv cups her breasts and rubs them over my erection, her skin growing slick and shiny, her chest heaving against the underside of my shaft. Enveloped in her pillowy softness, I lean back and let her work herself over me, rubbing, stroking, squeezing. After a few minutes she lowers her head and licks the tip as I push upward.

Pressure tightens the base of my spine. I put my hand on the back of Liv's neck. She shifts to the side. I grasp her around the waist and bring us both to the floor. She wraps her legs around me, arching her hips as I plunge into her.

It takes longer this time, a slow and powerful fucking that makes me grit my teeth as the pressure builds. Liv clutches my forearms and moans, her body rolling and quivering with every thrust. I could watch her for hours, feel this forever, but the urgency spirals out of control. I sink deep inside her as she convulses around me, and then there's nothing but pleasure.

Easy. It's so easy to be with her, my lusty fairy, my beautiful wife. Wanting her is like breathing. Needing her is in my blood. And loving her will always be the beat of my heart.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE.

Olivia June 7 crowd of parents and children bustle around the gabled front porch of the Wonderland Cafe. The house has been repainted a fresh hunter-green with white trim, and the whimsical sign is guarded by a white rabbit wearing a monocle.

In honor of the grand opening, there is a bouncy house at the side of the building with inflatable hot-air balloons tethered to the roof. Actors dressed as Alice in Wonderland and Wizard of Oz characters wander around with samples of cakes and cookies. There's a face-painting station, a balloon sculptor, and a couple of musicians playing catchy songs.

Inside the cafe, the air shimmers with excitement and children's voices. Clatter rises from the kitchen as Jan and her staff get out orders of souffles, sandwiches, Rainbow Fruit Pizzas, Flying Monkey Bread, Scarecrow Straw, and plenty of Cheshire Cat cupcakes and edible teacups.

Marianne and several of the former Matilda's Teapot staff bustle around seating people and recommending things from our tea menu, while Allie and I help expedite the food, and Brent ensures everything is running smoothly.

The place looks incredible with Allie's detailed murals covering the walls, a painted yellow-brick staircase, new light fixtures and bright, airy colors. Greenery adorns the front door, and guests are offered the choice of sitting in one of the Oz rooms upstairs or Wonderland downstairs.

It's everything I'd hoped it would be, everything Allie and I had envisioned.

"One Wicked Witch's Hat, made to order." I place a dish in front of a pigtailed little girl. She grins at the chocolate-dipped sugar cone upside down on a scoop of ice cream.

"Are you booking for your birthday party packages yet?" her mother asks me. "This would be a great place to have a party, especially in winter."

"We certainly are. I'll get you a copy of our party brochure so you can see all the options."

I get her one of the brochures, then check on a couple of other customers before going outside, where a crowd is enjoying the festivities. I shade my eyes from the sun as I see Ben Stafford by the face-painting booth with his daughters. Crystal is there too, wandering around with a man whom I don't recognize.

I approach Kelsey at the ring-toss booth, amused to see that she has a daisy painted on her cheek.

"It's fantastic, Liv," she says, after we exchange a hug. "You and Allie have done amazing work."

I smile, both pleased and proud. "We couldn't have done it without your help."

"Yeah, you could have." Kelsey nudges me with her elbow. "Where's Dean?"

"On his way. The guy who was supposed to drop off some bubble-blowing machines had a problem with his car, so Dean went to pick them up."

"Can I get a picture, ladies?" Rita Johnson, the magazine reporter who wrote the article about the transformation of Matilda's Teapot to the Wonderland Cafe, stops beside us.

Kelsey and I both smile into her camera as she snaps a few pictures.

"I've talked to a few of the parents, and they're thrilled to have a place like this in town," Rita says, studying the photo in the LCD window. "Looks like you're going to be a big success."

"I hope so. Did you try the Red Queen cake?"

"I've tried everything." Rita shoots me a grin and heads toward one of the food stations. "It's delicious. Think I'll try it all a second time too."

After doing a quick check to ensure all the servers have enough samples, I turn to go back inside.

A sense of alarm, of impending danger, hits me suddenly. My gaze lands on a big, gray-haired man who is coming toward the cafe. His face is set with anger, his stride long. My chest constricts. I know to my bones that this is Edward Hamilton. I start for the steps, wanting to prevent him from getting near the cafe, but he reaches the porch and stops.

"Olivia West?" he asks.

Cold prickles my skin, and a black tendril of dread begins to snake around my heart. I force myself to approach him.

"I'm Olivia West. May I help you?"

He looks down at me. I dig my fingernails into my palms and meet his steely gaze.

"Where's your husband?" he asks.

Oh God.

"Mr. Hamilton, if you'd like to talk, we can go..."

"You can go to hell," he snaps.

Anxiety spears me. My breathing is getting too fast.

"This is not the-" I stop.

Behind Edward Hamilton, standing on the sidewalk, is his daughter Maggie. A bubble of rage bursts inside me. Our gazes clash across the space.

"You need to leave, Mr. Hamilton," I say. "Both of you."

"What the fuck gives you the right to slander my daughter?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"The hell you don't." He moves closer, a vein throbbing in his forehead. "My daughter and I both got an anonymous email with some crap about Maggie and another professor. That's bullshit. West is the one guilty of that, as you well know. And he can't hide behind anonymity like a fucking coward."

I'm starting to shake. I retreat to get him out of my field of vision, but my back hits the side of the porch. I'm half-aware of people starting to look in our direction. I pray the music is loud enough to drown out Edward Hamilton's voice.

"If you don't leave right now," I tell him, "I'll call the police."

"You do that, little girl. Get the police involved on your opening day, all these kids around. What a great story, huh?"

My fear is turning into outright horror as I realize Edward Hamilton has figured out that I have no way to defend myself, not here. Not now.

"What... what do you want?" I stammer.

"Where is that fucker husband of yours?"

"He's-"

"Right here."

Dean's deep, measured voice floods me with relief. I draw in a breath and shift my gaze to where he's standing a short distance away. His body is lined with tension, his eyes burning as he looks at Hamilton.

"Get away from my wife," he orders.

Hamilton turns to glare at him. "You want to take this up, West? You couldn't leave it alone?"

"We ended it." Dean steps closer, his fists clenching. "It's over. Now get the hell out of here."

"You trash my daughter, you're dead." Hamilton strides toward him, extending his finger. "Who else has that email?"

"I didn't send you any email."

"Liar."

Dean holds up his hands in a gesture of surrender, though he's gotten between me and Hamilton. "Look, you want to talk? Let's go. We'll take this somewhere else."