Page 58 of The Last Kelpie

“I do.” I climbed out of bed.

“I guess that means no morning sex.” He pouted.

“Would you settle for a morning blowjob?”

“What will you be blowing?”

I burst out laughing. He frowned. I laughed harder.

When my laughter subsided, I went around to his side of the bed and motioned for him to sit with his legs over the side. With a raised eyebrow, Áedán moved to sit on the edge of the bed. I knelt between his legs and took his limp cock in my hand. It immediately started to twitch.

“This is called a blowjob.” I bent my head and sucked him into my mouth.

A few minutes later, Áedán lay sprawled on the bed, his legs hanging splayed over the edge. I rose to my feet, wiping my lips.

He grinned up at me. “I dinnae ken why you call it blowin' when you do more sucking, but I will remember the term.”

I chuckled. “So you can ask for it again?”

“And return the favor.” He winked at me and sat up.

We got dressed, Áedán humming a tune as he did. He made tea while I sat at his kitchen table, in front of my laptop, and went online. I wanted to find other libraries like the Great Archive—places that might have kelpie books from the last century. I searched for nearby locations that might be helpful and made a list.

“Where do we start?” Áedán set a mug beside my elbow.

I looked up at him. He had on a dark green sweater that made his eyes luminous, and his expression was dreamy. I realized he was still relaxed from the orgasm I'd given him. In short, he was glowing. I wanted to take him back to bed. My cock, thickening in my jeans, urged me to. But Áedán was my priority, not the pleasure he could give me.

I pointed at my list. “There's a small museum in Balloch. They have a collection of nineteenth-century folklore journals. Then the monastery library at Inchmahome Priory—they keep records of local legends. After that, there's a private estate collection near Drymen, and the university archives in Glasgow.”

“That's a lot of driving.”

“Think of it as sightseeing.”

Áedán studied my face. “You're obsessed.”

“I prefer 'focused.'“

“You're obsessed,” he repeated, but his tone was fond. “And you're going to work yourself into exhaustion if you're not careful.”

“I'll be fine. It's you I'm worried about.”

“Ethan.” He caught my chin, tilted my face up. “Remember what I said before aboot fading; it won't be this week. Or the next. You need to take care of yourself too.” He grinned. “I need you to keep up your strength.”

“I promise to take care of myself.”

“Liar.” Áedán kissed my cheek. “But that's all right. I'll take care of you.”

An hour later, on the way to Balloch, I was still thinking about his words. I'll take care of you. It was the most romantic thing anyone had ever said to me. As he drove, I watched him. He looked so rugged in his old, beat-up Land Rover.

Then another thought entered my head. “Why can't I see your magic now? I mean, the swirls of it beneath your skin.”

He glanced at me. “I can center it, pull it into my heart so I look human.”

“Then you showed it to me on purpose?”

“Of course.” Áedán winked at me. “I hoped you'd find it attractive.”

“I found it and still find it very sexy.” I stroked a finger over his hand.