Page 384 of Once Upon a Fable

Sweat broke out over his brow. Goosebumps puckered his skin. He looked as if he fought so damn hard to stay with me but was losing with every heartbeat.

Shaking his head, he tried to roll off me.

I held him, locking my legs around his naked hips. “Stay. Stay with me. Just breathe. It’s okay.” I stroked his back as he groaned and trembled.

His hips thrust again, filling me with tease and torment. Kissing me, he poured agony down my throat. “I don’t know if I can. My head isn’t right...”

“Just hold on to me.” I ran my hands through his hair, kissing him softly, kneading his headache. Even after Jareth punched him in the skull, he hadn’t lost anymore pieces. I know Kas wouldn’t agree, but he’d improved. Ever since Jareth had walked into the valley, Kas had been...better. Not cured, not fixed, but definitely better.

“I love you, Gem. I won’t hurt you again. I won’t fucking do it.” Withdrawing, he pushed off me and tripped to the side. His shorts clung to his thighs as he pressed both palms to his temples, warding offwhatever nightmares and amnesia had come for him.

While Kas inhaled gulps of air, his cock glistening in the spears of sunlight, boots crunched through the undergrowth.

My heart leaped into my throat, wrenching my eyes behind me as I shoved down my nightgown and stood. “Stay away from him.” I held up my hand. “You saw he’d rather get away from me than hurt me. He did the right thing.”

Kas buckled over, seemingly unaware I spoke to someone else, drowning beneath his headache.

Jareth eyed me lazily before skating his appraisal over Kas, his cigarette dangling off his bottom lip. He slow clapped with sarcasm. “Well, I must say, I’ve seen better sex from virgins.”

Kas snapped upright, his arms falling to his sides. He blinked at Jareth as if he couldn’t understand. Then awareness flooded his face, and he glanced down at his naked cock. His hands flew to cover himself, cupping his length and touching a part of his body that always seemed to trigger his worst memories.

I sucked in a breath.

Jareth cocked his head.

And Kas howled as if his hands caught on fire. He ripped his touch away, yanked up his shorts, and gasped as if a panic attack had crawled its way through his chest.

Jareth sniffed. “Interesting. Still have that phobia, huh?”

Kas bared his teeth. “It’s not a phobia, you bastard.”

“Definitely something you should’ve gotten over by now.”

“Shut it.” Wiping his palms on his shorts, Kas turned and stalked back toward me. Planting himself in front of me, he turned to face Jareth as if preparing to protect me all over again. “What the hell are you doing here anyway?” His face etched with darkness. “Just so we’re clear, I don’t and willnevershare.”

Jareth chuckled. “Oh, don’t worry, brother. I wasn’t watching her.” His eyes narrowed. “I was watching you.” He glanced at me, giving me a slight nod. “And you passed. Gemma knows what I mean.” Turning on his heel, he added, “I’m going back to the house. I’m still sore from the ass-kicking you gave me yesterday. I either need a drink or drugs. Preferably both.”

Kas said coldly, “There are no more painkillers, and I drank Storymaker’s stock.”

Jareth cracked a grin over his shoulder. “You drankeverything? Every bottle in the cellar?” Whistling under his breath, he shook his head. “Impressive. I’m surprised you’re still alive. Your liver should’ve given out.”

“It was over the course of a year.”

Jareth’s attention turned sharp. “A year-long party for one, huh? Tried to kill yourself through alcohol?”

Kas didn’t flinch beside me. “Something like that.”

They held the stare for a while, unsaid things flying between them. Finally, Jareth nodded. “I saw a few bottles in the games room. They’lldo.”

“I was saving those.” Kas took my hand, leading me away from the grave, his solid and strong fingers wrapped around mine.

“What for?” Jareth asked slyly. “To celebrate love? To drown your sorrows when you kill her?”

I flinched. “No one is killing anyone.”

“Not while I’m here at least.” Jareth threw me a pointed stare, stomping out his cigarette. “However, I’m not sticking around. So I suggest that you, Gemma, give up and go home and you—” He arched his chin at Kas. “Figure out how to touch your own cock without getting PTSD.”

He left before Kas could hit him, jogging into the trees and vanishing into the dappling light.