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“Wishes?” asked Zev.
“Aye, wishes. I can grant ye three wishes. One for each. I can see into your hearts and grant your greatest desire, I can. Now, isn’t that much better than a silly pot o’ gold, lad?”
Dermot thought about that. He had all the money he wanted, but his greatest desire…
The leprechaun smiled. “I see a reasonable lad before me. Let me free, and I will grant ye each one wish. Ye will get what your heart most desires.”
“Go for the wish!” said Zev.
Dermot nodded. “Fine. I release you.” He broke eye contact with the leprechaun, hoping he hadn’t made a huge mistake.
But the leprechaun didn’t run away. Instead he looked at each of the men in turn. “Aye, I have seen what it is ye most desire, and so it shall be granted.”
“When?” asked Dermot.
The leprechaun chuckled. “Have patience, lad. Leprechaun magic is a tricky business. It will work differently for all of ye. But it will work, that I promise.”
Greg held a hand to his forehead, as if suddenly dizzy, and then fell to the ground. Within seconds, Zev had fallen as well.
“What did you do to them?” Dermot demanded.
“Don’t worry, ‘tis nothing to be concerned with. Their greatest desire lies elsewhere.” The leprechaun pointed into the woods, in the same direction they’d been walking. “Yours lies this way.”
The leprechaun winked, laughed merrily, and then dove back into the leaves. Dermot stood there, listening as the laughter faded.
He suddenly realized that Zev was gone. Vanished completely. Where had his greatest desire taken him?
It didn’t matter. Dermot’s desire lay straight ahead.
Leaving the lawyer snoring on the path, he headed deeper into the woods.
Chapter One
Dermot Stone picked his way carefully through the darkened forest, cursing his stupidity. Wandering through unknown woods with only a single Coleman lantern for illumination, in search of his heart’s greatest desire, was a calculated risk. He knew what he desired more than anything—to see members of the faerie realm. Incontrovertible proof that there was more to life than the relentless pursuit of money and power that formed the bedrock of his father’s life. Proof that Dermot was right to believe in more, in the magic of unseen possibilities.
Already tonight he’d seen, and captured, a leprechaun, although that could have been an elaborately staged prank. The drunken nerd who’d accompanied him had disappeared suspiciously, possibly to set up the second stage of the joke. And it had been the nerd’s singing that summoned the leprechaun.
Still, it would show more wit than his beer-soaked brain had seemed capable of to mastermind a prank of this magnitude. Dermot couldn’t see what he would gain from such a stunt, anyway. No, he was mostly convinced that he’d bargained with a real leprechaun. And the little man had promised that Dermot’s greatest desire lay this way.
He checked his watch. He’d been walking for twenty minutes. Another twenty should bring him to the edge of the forest. If he didn’t find his heart’s desire before then, he’d use the GPS feature on his cell phone and call his driver to come pick him up.
His trek through the woods might be foolish, but he had a plan, and a contingency plan. His stupidity lay in what he’d done before he and the two other wedding guests had caught the leprechaun. That’s when Dermot had revealed that Tamara Fuller had been both his last nanny and his first lay.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. The tabloids would have a field day with that news. Dermot could only hope the men didn’t know who he was, or wouldn’t remember his confession in enough detail to repeat.
At least he hadn’t been foolish enough to tell them the details of his relationship. His parents had pulled him out of prep school for the summer and hired a nanny for a grand trip of Europe that was supposed to unite them as a family, or some such foolishness. He’d protested that he was nearly in college and far too old for a nanny, especially one who was barely older than he was, but his parents had insisted that he not be allowed on his own in countries where he was over the legal age of consent. His mother had visions of gold-digging foreign women lurking in wait for American heirs they could slap with paternity suits. Given the number of out of court settlements his father had arranged for himself, her fears seemed fully justified.
Dermot had suspected at the time that the young woman, tall and lean with a dancer’s graceful strength and model’s stunning looks, had been hired because his father wanted to sleep with her. She matched Dermot for height, but he was awkward and uncomfortable with his newly added inches, and seemed to become even more clumsy and tangle-footed whenever he was around her. He had been appropriately awful to her in the way only a self-involved teenager could be. The poor girl had been at her wit’s end when she finally decided the only way to keep him in line would be a good, old-fashioned spanking. She’d pulled off his pants and shorts, shocking him into immobility, and laid him across her lap, her miniskirt riding up so that he was stretched across her bare thighs. What followed had been like no spanking he’d ever known.
Thinking of Tamara, his ass cheeks heated. He still remembered how her small, soft hands felt slapping his ass, over and over again, while his hardening cock rocked against her bare thighs with every blow. Then his cock had slipped between her legs. She clamped her thighs around him, and he thought he’d died, the pleasure was so intense. Every slap of her palm against his ass forced his cock down, stroking against her thighs. When she lifted her hand, he pulled back, stroking the other way, so that she could do it again.
He’d been terrified that he’d embarrass himself by coming in her lap, the fear keeping him rock hard longer than he’d known was possible. Her slaps grew harder and faster as her breathing turned ragged. Then she gave a strangled gasp, and her thighs relaxed.
“Let that be a lesson to you,” she’d said. “Now pull up your pants and go.” He’d run to the bathroom and jerked off, harder than he’d ever come before
, his vision fogging and his body shaking with the force of his release.
After that, he’d found a reason to be “punished” every night that his parents were out. Since they went out almost every night, his ass was incredibly tender by the end of the trip. A few soft swats would be sufficient to have him gasping across Tamara’s legs, fighting not to come.
