Obsidian Mirror
Tawny Taylor
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2007 Tawny Taylor

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For Skylar Morissey, the ultimate romantic evening involved a bazillion candles, some mood music, a little magic, and not one but two men. From another dimension.

It's time.

God, she was nervous. Her heart was banging against her breastbone like a sledgehammer, and her hands were shaking worse than the time she'd been interviewed on the radio.

Three hundred and sixty-four nights she'd waited to see her hunky warriors again. Would they reappear like they'd promised? Or had that magical night been a once-in-a-lifetime thing?

Skylar settled into the chair at her dressing table, did a final makeup and hair check then scooped her cosmetics into the little covered basket she kept tucked on a shelf. With hands still trembling, she turned off the light, moved her obsidian scrying mirror into the center of the table, cleared her mind of all distracting thoughts, and lit the candles, positioned all around the room.

Despite the sketchy directions she'd received with the mirror -- including a vague mention of warriors from far away and a few details about a ritual -- the first time the two guys had appeared, she hadn't been prepared for them. What girl would be? Two enormous males, clad in what equated to loincloths -- or super-short leather kilts -- magically materializing in her bedroom? Claiming to be warriors from another dimension?

Sure. Righttttt.

The average girl would freak out, which Skylar wasn't ashamed to say she did. For about an hour. And then -- once they convinced her that magic was real and she wasn't either hallucinating, the butt of a joke, or about to be the victim of a crime -- she decided having a one-night stand with two absolutely gorgeous dimension-traveling warriors with killer bodies sounded like the perfect way to spend the night.

Unattached, and not exactly overwhelmed with multiple prospects, she gave herself permission to indulge her every fantasy. After all, this opportunity was absolutely risk free. No disease. No pregnancy. No strings. No heartache.

At the end of the night, they'd told her they could return every year, on the same night. That was, if she asked them to.

She was asking, oh yes she was.

Last time, she'd barely touched upon some of her more adventurous fantasies. This year she was prepared. Oh, the discoveries she'd made on the Internet. So many choices. Made a wannabe subbie like herself giddy as a teenage girl going to the mall for the first time. There was the place with the sleek wood and leather furniture. And the other one with the hot latex dress. Silver, it fit her like a second skin. Finally, there was the place with the sweet-and-sexy lace stuff that made her feel so feminine and sexy.

Realizing her thoughts had drifted to some very pleasant -- though inconvenient -- places, she focused again on relaxing, and on her warriors. Her thoughts once again under her control, she stared so hard at the mirror her vision blurred.

Look through the mirror, she reminded herself. Stare through the blackness. Search in the shadows.

She slowed her breathing and concentrated.

There. Yes!

She saw Zolan first, or rather, that gorgeous face of his. It wasn't so pretty it looked feminine, but it was most definitely stunning enough to make the chilly room as warm and toasty as a sauna. Chiseled cheekbones angled up toward his ears. Eyes the color of grape juice. And dark brown hair that skimmed his shoulders in thick waves. His body was equally awe-inspiring. Thickly muscled, it was well proportioned, lean and powerful.

Just like he had before, he wore only the short leather-like cloth wrapped around his hips and a set of thick gold bands around his upper arms. Kind of reminded her of a Viking.

"Zolan," she whispered, thrilled to see him. She couldn't remember the precise words she'd chanted that first night, and the information she'd received with the mirror hadn't contained a specific chant, so she winged it. "In the shadows, in the night. I search for thee, my noble knights. Come to me, we'll share this night. And come the witching hour, I give thee flight."

The image of Zolan shimmered then splintered into a million pieces. A brilliant light reflected from the mirror, blinding Skylar for a second. Reflexively, just as she had the first time, she snapped her eyes shut and turned her face, burying it in her hands.

Again, just like the first time, she knew they were in her room before she saw them. Her eyes were still watering when she lowered her hands to look. Her heart did a little hop in her chest when she saw them.

Zolan was slightly taller than her second dimension-hopping master, Rael. Both were beyond a doubt the most perfect specimens of man-meat Skylar had ever laid eyes on. Most certainly gorgeous enough to inspire nightly dreams for a year. Very wicked ones, at that.

Who needed a real boyfriend? The hassle. The complications.

One night with these two was more than enough for Skylar, especially considering her past. Maybe most women wouldn't see this situation the way she did. Live and let live. That was her favorite expression. Every one of her friends possessed this need for a stable relationship with a man. She understood it, to a certain extent, although she didn't share the drive to find that special one who would make her whole. She was whole already.

Love, bah. It only existed in movies and books. In real life, with real, flawed humans, it was always imperfect. Like a diamond with an unseen crack. At the slightest pressure, it shattered. Since she was more flawed than the average girl, she knew better than to even dream about falling in love. Her diamond had lots of cracks.

Thus, one night a year with her handsome pair of dominating warriors was just what she needed. A once-a-year thrill, followed by three hundred sixty-four nights of anticipation for next year. At least with this setup no one would get hurt.

"Hello," she said, unable to stop smiling. Adrenaline rushed through her system as she stood, making her palms sweaty, her heart race, her mouth dry. She reached back for her bottled water, took a swig and set it down. "I wasn't sure I'd done it right. I'm glad it worked."

"So are we." Not smiling, but not frowning either, Zolan rushed forward and swept her into his arms. She was all too happy to be crushed in a bear hug. Her second master, Rael, pressed against her back side, his hands smoothing down her arms, his fingers twining between hers.

Oh yes, as she'd hoped, they were going to take up right where they'd left off. If she didn't know better, she'd swear they could anticipate her every need. Zolan loosened his grip on her, but only to free his hands to explore some other parts of her anatomy. Rael tortured her from behind, stepping back to provide himself access to her shoulders, back and lace-covered fanny.

Her tiny negligee was like a whisper between her searing skin and their tender touches. And it wasn't long before she was burning all over, and ready to beg for relief. This agonizing wanting hadn't just built up over the past few minutes, but the past year. She'd been hot and wet and ready for them the moment they'd escaped from the mirror.

Zolan, whose face was now nestled between her breasts, groaned. The deep vibration of his voice seemed to hum through her body like low voltage electricity.

Yes, this was so right. So very right. The way they touched her, with authority. And respect. They were such powerful men, strong enough to overtake her easily but she wasn't afraid. No, not at all. The sense of vulnerability she felt only added to the thrill.

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