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“This is weird,” James declared, pushing aside one opened book to look at the one beneath. There were at least a dozen of these books, most showing fantastical drawings of winged nymphs dancing around bonfires or resting on the leaf of a plant. Gloria’s laptop, too, was opened with tab after tab of images of these winged girls, some clothed, some not, but all with delirious smiles on their faces and their bodies drawn to suggest motion. Gloria was coming out of the shower, a towel wrapped around her head to hide her damp, dark hair, another around her lithe body. He took an appreciatively long look at her legs, and sat down behind her computer desk where the litany of mythological drawings was assembled.

“What?”

“That’s what I was going to ask,” he said, picking up one of the library books and turning it around to face Gloria as she dropped her towel and pulled a simple pair of white panties up her smooth legs.

“Oh, that,” she said, slipping her arms into the straps of a bra and securing it behind her.

If James had one complaint with Gloria’s body, it was her smaller-than-average breast size, but her toned body more than made up for any shortcomings when it came to the attraction he felt for her.

“It’s just some research.”

James tilted the book back to face him and he laughed.  “Research on ‘woodland nymphs’?”

“It’s just something I’ve been interested in. Did you know that stories of faeries exist in every culture independent of one another?”

“I did not. Then again, I’ve never wondered about it.”

“It’s just interesting to me. I mean, most of these stories, the legends

you hear about, have some roots in real things.”

“Are you suggesting that these woodland nymph things are real?”

Drawing a gray tee over her torso, Gloria nodded, pausing before she said more.

“If you’re just going to make fun,” she said finally, “you can leave it alone.

  I think it’s fascinating.”

“Sorry. If you think there’s some truth to it, I’m sure there is. You were always smarter than me when it comes to history.”

“Well these things, these faeries, they’re older than anything else. Supposedly, they’ve been around since there were people. In some of the stories they’re just pranksters, sometimes extensions of nature and natural beauty, and sometimes… well, they’re thieves.”

“Like what? They steal cars? The Fast and the Faeri-ous?”

He laughed at his pun and laid the book on the desk, admiring the detail of some of the drawings, especially the ones with the nude versions of the fae.

“Not cars, you dummy. How do these pants look?”

James whistled. “Very sexy. Any tighter and you might lose circulation.”

“Anyway, they stole people. Usually babies, but there are stories where, if you happen across some faerie gathering, they ask you to dance and the next thing you know-“ She snapped her fingers.  “You’re one of them.”

“That’s kind of scary, huh?”

“Very,” she said, but the word that felt most appropriate was ‘hot.’ The lingering memory of the faerie, the soft flap of her wings, her curves… Yes, Gloria was undeniably aroused by the thought. 

“Ready for dinner?”