This is not fair. Not fair at all. How can you end the story there? What about the love scene with Gerald and Ashley? We've waited patiently while you've gone on and on about battles, avalanches, earthquakes, witches, fire, smoke, blood, body parts, and have we complained?

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Returning to the Ever After Castle from the Interkingdom Games was a snap compared to the journey there. Because traveling via fairy godmother magic was like flying on warm silken winds that had been scented with honeysuckle and suffused with watercolors in all the shades of the rainbow.

Fairy godmother travel involved no bird skirmishes, heights or falling from them, thin air, cold winds, ice monsters, witches, avalanches, nausea, time displacement, trolls, or terrifying visits to the black void.

Essentially, Maxine said, "time for everyone to go back to where they belong," and she swished her wand. Ashley and Gerald found themselves atop a mound of hay in the Ever After unicorn stables. Presumably, the others had been returned to their kingdoms. God, Ashley would miss her friends. There would have to be another sleepover as soon as possible. Perhaps this time, there would be no horrible revelations about odious princes or megalomaniacal magicians.

"We made it!" Gerald said. "We're home. Fairy godmothers are pretty amazing."

"They are."

"Now, My Princess," Gerald caressed Ashley's face, his eyes boring into hers.

"Yes?" Ashley said.

"At last, we are alone with no one to rescue. How I've dreamed of this moment. In great detail." He climbed on top of her, pushing her back into the scratchy sweet-smelling hay and kissed her lazily. She could practically feel the smirk at the edges of his lips.

"What exactly have you dreamed of?"

A beguiling blush stained Gerald's stubbled cheeks.

"That bad?"

"I assure you, Princess, quite good. These dreams of you have sustained me through much adversity."

Ashley arched her hips, pressing into the firmness of his loins, choking down a gasp at the pleasure. "It isn't fair of you to use me as a character in your dreams and not share the details."

He shifted his weight, then matched her movement, swirling his hips then pushing against her. Ashley made no effort to hide her gasp this time. She panted with desire. Gerald rolled off of her, shielding his eyes behind his errant curl. "You'll think me an animal," he said.

"I love animals," she said. "But if you'd rather not—"

"It isn't that," Gerald said. "If I tell you my dreams, then you will own me, body and soul."

"A fine body and soul it is," Ashley snuggled into Gerald's firm chest. He smelled like hay, naturally, and like fresh-washed linens hanging in the sun, and yeasty bread browning in the oven. She inhaled sharply, paying attention to each scent, committing them to memory. A yawn overtook her efforts.

"Am I putting you to sleep?" Gerald said, stroking her hair.

Her eyes grew heavy. "It's not you," Ashley said. "When was the last time we slept?"

"Can't remember," Gerald said. "Too long." He removed bits of straw from her golden curls as he sang a lullaby, so quiet, she could only hear some of the words—"The love locked in my heart ... you tenderly hold the key ... as long as I live ... you will be so dear to my heart. I want you so bad, my heart aches, but let us sleep now. I know you'll be there in my dreams and again when we awaken."

Like a vivid memory on the inside of Ashley's eyelids, hearts and keys rained down from puffy white clouds, while sheep frolicked in moonlit meadows, and cows jumped from crater to crater in the humble gravity of the moon, and Gerald, sweet Gerald, held out his hand, and she took it and followed them all to dreamland because she didn't have the energy not to.

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Consciousness returned when a slant of light skimmed across her eyelids. Her eyes fluttered open only to discover two very intent, very piercing eyes looking straight into hers. "Why are you staring at me?"

"You're so beautiful when you sleep," Gerald said.

"Come on, why are you staring?"

"You talked about me in your sleep, and I was waiting to hear what happened next. I had no idea you were so ... knowledgeable."

It was Ashley's turn to blush. "I do not talk in my sleep."

"Yes, you do. Quite authoritatively."

"Hmmm." The hay digging into her back wasn't quite as comfortable now. "I guess I better get to work fixing all the problems in Ever After." She tried to sit, but Gerald managed to prevent this by pushing back with one finger between her breasts.

"Not yet," Gerald said.

"Why not?"

"Because we're here, alone, together. And people are waiting."

"For what?"

"Our love scene, of course."

"You're telling me we have an audience?"

"I am."

"If we have an audience, then we're not alone."

"Nonetheless," he said, nipping tiny kisses from her temple, down her neck, and then ... Ashley held her breath, waiting to see where the next kiss might land. "Godsdammit," he growled.

"What's wrong?"

"All this fabric. Your fairy godmother put you in this stupid outfit with a thousand buttons and fabric too sturdy to rip away. It's like a linen chastity belt. Skirts work much better. Perhaps Maxine wants you to be pure."

"Then why did she teleport us to a haystack? I mean, isn't that the quintessential sex locale? Roll in the hay and all that? But, my dearest, what about you?" Ashley said. "Your clothes are as impenetrable as mine."

"But you're the woman," Gerald said with a high degree of incredulity.

"Explain."

"You have the beautiful body that I intend to worship from here," he tapped the top of her head with a finger, "to here." He slid his hand between her legs and squeezed, sending fireworks of lust through her body. "And I can't do it with all these clothes in the way."

Ashley wrapped her legs around him. "I think you have it wrong."

"What do you mean?"

"I think your body should be the one worshipped. And you have too many clothes, not I."

"I hate to tell you, but the man only needs to open his flies."

"How romantic," Ashley said.

"So, you're the expert on romance?"

"Hey! I read an entire article called How to Please Your Prince."

"I'm not a prince."

"Yet. Kiss me."

He complied. Ashley realized this could be a useful tool for their whole relationship. Whenever he started annoying her, she could insist on a kiss, and like magic, he would be silenced. Then she stopped thinking about her devious plan to silence Gerald and melted into his embrace.

She throbbed everywhere. The surge of lust was like nothing she'd ever felt before. It was as if a dragon was flaming her skin.

She yanked at Gerald's flies, but her hands were too confounded with urgency to be much good at the task. "I hate your clothes," Ashley said. "I wish you were naked. Right. Now!"

A blink of light, then Gerald's clothes disappeared.

It was like opening the most excellent Christmas present of all time—yards of golden-brown skin for her to explore. She kissed his neck and down his chest, swirling her tongue around each nipple. Gerald jerked out of range. "Get back here," she demanded.

He covered his private area with a bundle of hay. "How ... how ... what ... where did my clothes go?"

"Not sure," Ashley said. "Does it matter?"

"It matters."

Ashley thought back. What happened right before his clothes dematerialized? Her mind was fuzzy with desire making it hard to think straight. "I can't remember. More kissing."

He pushed her lips away. "Ashley?"

"Hmmm? Give me those lips."

"I will. Promise. But I think maybe your powers came in."

"What powers? Can we talk about it after the part where you ravish me?"

"Your witchy powers. You wished that my clothes disappeared, and then they did."

"Wouldn't that make them wishy powers, not witchy?"

"I guess. But still. Try something else to test my theory. Another wish."

"First, I wish my clothes would disappear. Second, I wish you'd shut up and have sex with me, exactly the way you dreamt."

And he did.

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