Moonlight, Monsters & Magic

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Moonlight, Monsters & Magic Page 20

by Linda G. Hill


  “You did? Why?” she asked, more curious than humiliated.

  “Think about it, Olivia. I’ve been living with a gorgeous woman for five years. I’ve slept with you … Hell, I’ve slept on you, and you’ve told me some really personal things. I think this is the longest relationship I’ve ever had, so I didn’t exactly enjoy knowing other men were putting their hands all over you.”

  She snorted. “So, you’re telling me the entire time you were in a cat body, you still had human thoughts?”

  “Oh yeah,” he said, looking at her with desire evident in his gaze. “Very human, very male thoughts.”

  She felt herself flush. “Oh. Oh, I see,” she sputtered.

  “You want to know what I think?” he asked. She nodded. He shifted closer to her. “I think your wish and my wish somehow merged last night. It’s really a miracle you found me, and then we both had the same fortune teller grant our wishes. Maybe it wasn’t just a coincidence, and maybe that crazy old woman planned it all. I’m pretty sure she’s not actually human, so it’s possible.”

  “What do you mean our wishes merged?”

  “I wished for a woman who was devoted to me, and you are a damn fine pet owner.” He laughed. “I was probably the most spoiled cat on the planet.”

  “Okay, that’s your wish,” she pressed. “How does my wish fit into this?”

  He moved closer, until their knees touched. “Olivia,” he purred. “I love you. Do you think I could coexist in this house with you for five years, see you naked, see you vulnerable and delectable all this time, and not fall in love with you?”

  “What?” Olivia asked breathlessly. “What are you saying?”

  He reached over and gently touched her chin. “Like I said before, this is the longest I’ve ever been crazy about a girl. Five years is a long time, and I really know you, Olivia. I know who you are, I know what you like and what you hate, what makes you laugh and what makes you cry. I know you’re the strongest, smartest woman I’ve ever met, and when you love people, you love them fiercely. I adore that about you, and I adore you. Everything you wished for last night? I’m that guy, Olivia. At least, I hope you’ll give me the chance to show you I am.”

  “Oh,” she whispered, her heart and thoughts racing. She took in how striking he was. Tall, muscular, with a strong jawline, full lips, and those brilliant green eyes, he looked like a model. When had a model ever sat in her living room, wearing cast-off clothes, professing his love for her? Her breath quickened.

  His eyes darkened, and he stared at her lips with serious intent. She leaned toward him without realizing it. “So, show me,” she whispered.

  He sucked in a breath and pounced on her like a starving man, devouring her lips with his own. She gasped in surprise and promptly melted against him. He kissed like a dream, and she began to wonder if maybe she’d wake up and find out this whole thing had never happened. It was all so crazy: maybe she’d caught something from the disgusting cloth, and now was in the middle of a fever dream. Well, if it wasn’t real, she was going to take advantage of it.

  Realizing she could do whatever she wanted in a dream, she growled and pushed him backward on the couch. He didn’t stop her.

  Instead, he moved his attention to her neck, kissing and licking her until her nerves felt like they’d combust. She heard her own faint whimpers through the roaring in her ears; the sound only seemed to encourage him. He sat up suddenly and lifted her, then carried her to the bedroom to deposit her on the bed.

  Breathing heavily, her head spinning, she stared up at him as he started to peel off his rumpled clothes. The body that he began to reveal caused her to squeak in wonder, and he grinned down at her before joining her on the bed.

  “Sorry,” he growled. “It’s just that I’ve been dreaming about being a man with you on this bed for so long, I didn’t want to miss the opportunity.”

  She nodded mutely, and he resumed where he left off, kissing her neck and shoulders. He ran his hands under her shirt and slowly caressed her breasts. Her nipples pebbled at his touch, and she moaned loudly. He groaned in response and pulled the shirt over her head, leaving her half-dressed and panting on the bed. Then he stopped and gazed down at her with confused wonder.

  “What?” she asked, starting to get embarrassed.

  “I just can’t believe this is happening. I never thought I’d be human again, and I certainly never thought I’d be with you like this. I’m trying to slow down so I don’t humiliate myself.”

  Emboldened, Olivia rolled away from him and stood, balancing on the bed to remove the rest of her clothing. “Slowing down in overrated,” she teased as she lay back down. “Why don’t you show me what you’ve always wanted to do to me?”

  He growled and surged forward, pinning her against the bed with his weight. Raining kisses down her body, he paused briefly on her breasts and licked and kissed until she became a writhing, whimpering mess underneath him. Making a noise of satisfaction, he continued kissing his way downward, leaving goosebumps in his wake.

  When his tongue lightly probed her entrance, she shrieked in surprised pleasure. It had been ages since a man touched her like this, and her overwrought senses went into meltdown. She arched into him and clutched the bedsheets.

  He growled again, sounding pleased, and began to lick and flick at her with a talented tongue. Within minutes, she flew over the edge, screaming her release. Groaning, he crawled up her body. When he opened her nightstand drawer, and she registered what he was doing, she let out a huff.

  He grinned down at her, holding up a condom. “I know where you keep them, Olivia,” he explained while rolling it onto his thick length. Before she could respond, he nudged her legs apart and pushed forward, stretching her wide as he slid deep.

  She shrieked again, and her head rolled back. Dear God, he felt good.

  He stilled, panting into her neck. “Oh my God, Olivia,” he whispered, and she grabbed at him, urging him to move. “I can’t promise I’m going to last long,” he said apologetically.

  “It’s okay,” she whimpered. “Neither am I.”

  It seemed to be all the encouragement he needed. He went wild, slamming into her with furious intensity, pushing her closer to the wall with each heavy thrust. Overwhelmed and hovering on the brink of another mind-blowing orgasm, she braced herself by pressing her palms against the wall behind her. As she moved, her fingers brushed against the piece of fabric that had worked its way out of the pillowcase.

  When her skin connected with the cloth, a wave of energy flowed through her in a violent burst, slamming through Henry and out into the room. She felt the air constrict and pulse, causing light bulbs to pop and shatter throughout the apartment. She wailed with the force of the orgasm hitting her at that moment, and she dimly heard Henry shout out his own release while the world turned white, images flashing behind her closed eyelids.

  Her senses returned to the sound of sirens and alarms going off outside.

  Henry lay heavily on top of her, his breathing shaky. “What the hell was that?” he asked.

  “I have no idea,” she gasped out. “I touched the Wishing Cloth and then all hell broke loose.” She turned her head to look for the fabric. “Where is it?”

  He slowly raised himself and felt around the pillow. Frowning, he sat on his knees, continuing to search. “It’s not here.”

  “What? It has to be here somewhere.”

  Henry jumped out of bed, removed the condom, and they checked under the covers, on the floor, behind the headboard, and anywhere it could have fallen. The cloth was gone. Finally flopping back down onto the bed, leaving the room in disarray, they stared at each other in wonder.

  “This isn’t a dream, is it?” Olivia breathed out in shock.

  “No, definitely not,” said Henry.

  “You felt that energy, right?”

  “Yes. It damn near blew my cock off.”

  She laughed weakly. “I think my head exploded. I saw images as I came. I saw you turn into a
cat, I think … I don’t know. It felt like flashes of memories. What’s going on?”

  “I think we’re never finding that cloth or seeing that fortune teller again. I hope our wishes just came true, and now we don’t need her or her magic anymore. Maybe she’s moved on to the next unsuspecting person. I feel like we have to make this work our own now, with no help from whatever that was.” He gazed solemnly at her. “Are you willing to try with me? I really want to try with you.”

  She gazed at him, cautious happiness peeking its head out from behind her heart. “I’d like that a lot,” she admitted. “I should be worried this is happening so fast, but it feels right, somehow.” She shrugged. “I can’t explain it.”

  “You don’t have to; I understand completely,” he whispered, running his hands down her body.

  Her eyes rolled back, and she let herself enjoy the sensations before she snorted and raised her hand to her mouth in laughter.

  “What?” he asked, amusement in his green eyes.

  “It’s just …” She laughed again. “I’m so glad I never had you neutered.”

  ~*The End*~

  For Max, who has always supported me, even when I'm being unreasonable.

  ~ AB

  ~~ * * * ~~

  About the Author

  Elizabeth Langley has been writing stories for as long as she can remember. Her love of romance novels started in her early twenties and has continued throughout her life. She is currently working on a few contemporary novels that she hopes to release within the next year. She lives in the beautiful Pacific Northwest with her husband, two children, one bonus child, three neurotic cats (one of which is probably an alien disguised as a cat), an energetic Corgi, and a homicidal rabbit.

  Follow her on:

  Facebook: lizlangleyauthor

  MISS CARLISLE

  Emma Brady

  On a pitch-black night, a country doctor comes across a place of mystery and magic. He becomes trapped inside a manor house during a storm with a beautiful young nurse he can't resist, and the troubled spirit of Lady Winship, lurking in the shadows.

  The elements of horror and romance come together in a dark love story that will haunt you.

  (m/f; heat level: smoking)

  MISS CARLISLE

  Dr. Brandon Lancaster almost rode past the manor house in the wild, midnight storm. The clothes that had been dry when he left the village in the afternoon were now soaked and clinging to his body. His coat did little to protect him as the rain beat against him and his poor horse. There would be no servants awake at this late hour to help stable his mare, leaving him to do it alone. Once the animal was tucked away in the stables, Brandon pounded on the front door. There would be no servants awake at this late hour to help stable his horse, leaving him to do it alone. Once the animal was tucked away in the stables, Brandon pounded on the front door.

  It cracked open and he spoke quickly before it could be slammed in his face. “I’m Dr. Lancaster. Lady Winship’s grandson sent me. He is worried about her health and hopes I can help.”

  The door opened enough to let him in. The foyer was dark but dry and warm compared to the storm outside. A woman stood in her nightgown and wrap, holding a candle that cast only enough light for them to see each other.

  She wasn’t just pretty, but she also had a soft elegance about her, even in the middle of the night. A long braid of soft brown hair fell across her shoulder, and a few strands danced across her high cheekbones. Even in the shadows he could see her thick lashes and her cautious expression. Her night clothes gave her the appearance of nothing but softness and curls. Yet, it was the way her lips were pursed together that made him wonder at his appearance after such a hard ride. Not impressive, he would guess. “You must be the nurse.”

  “Miss Carlisle,” she said. “Or you may call me Camille.”

  “I was told you would be here to assist me in caring for Lady Winship.” Brandon extended his hand, but she refused to take it.

  “You were not expected.” The woman spoke softly, but the sound echoed down the empty hall.

  “Lord Winship felt the situation was urgent and didn’t want to wait, but he gave me this.” Brandon pulled an envelope bearing the Earl’s seal from his coat. “I’m to give this as my introduction.”

  Camille took the letter and read it quickly. “It seems Lord Winship has decided he cares for his grandmother after all. Sadly, he is too late.”

  “Meaning?”

  “The lady passed away this evening. I planned to send one of the footmen to tell her grandson in the morning, after the storm had passed.”

  “I regret not being here earlier. May I examine her?”

  “Why? You don’t believe I know when someone is dead?” Her voice went tight and her posture straightened at the offense.

  “No, but I was sent to examine her and would like to complete the task.”

  He waited, expecting her to say no, but she nodded and motioned for him to follow. Brandon would have preferred to go to his room and change out of his wet clothes first, but he was in no position to make demands.

  Camille led him up the main staircase to the upper floor and down the hallway to the left wing. Everything the candlelight touched showed fine quality, from the expensive decoration to the overwhelming size of the place. Being a country doctor, Brandon didn’t spend a lot of time in homes this grand, but he tried not to let his awe show.

  A dark, wooden bed took up most of the space in Lady Winship’s bedroom. As Camille moved closer to the bed with the candle, Brandon saw the white face of Lady Winship above the quilt. She looked peaceful, with her hair tucked back and her eyes closed.

  “How long ago did she pass?” he asked, taking the candle from the nurse to get an even closer look.

  “It must have been right after supper.” Camille showed no emotion over the loss of the woman. “I brought it up to her and she was well. When I returned for the plates, she was gone.”

  When Lord Winship had asked Brandon to visit his ailing grandmother, he had been insistent, but he hadn’t indicated anything this dire. Looking at her now, there appeared to be no signs of a fever or any kind of injury. “Did her illness worsen suddenly?”

  “In a way. The poor woman suffered from a lonely heart.” Camille reached out to smooth back the old woman’s hair. “Her husband passed away years ago, and the children are all off living their own lives. No one ever came to visit her anymore, not even her friends. Her weak health kept her trapped inside this house with only memories for company.”

  “That wouldn’t be enough to kill her.”

  Camille didn’t respond. Brandon began to look through the items on the table beside the bed. He found an expensive silver pendant beside an open bottle with a medicinal smell to it.

  “What was this?” He held the empty bottle up for Camille to confirm what he thought.

  “Her laudanum. She got it from one of the maids to help her sleep.”

  Now a much sadder story began to show, perhaps. “Do you think she was lonely enough to take her own life?”

  Camille’s silence was all the answer he needed. Lady Winship’s grandson would not like hearing the news, but Brandon would tell him the truth.

  Now that he knew the cause of death, Brandon was ready for a good night’s sleep. Camille led him to his room down the hall. It was smaller than Lady Winship’s but still well-furnished. They hadn’t been expecting guests, so there was no fire to make it warm. Brandon insisted they not wake any of the other servants and instead, started one for himself. He wished Camille a goodnight and went to bed.

  Unusual sounds in the middle of the night never disturbed Brandon, living in the country, but the sound of footsteps running overhead was new to him. He sat upright, just as he had been about to drift off, and followed the sound with his eyes. They continued for a few moments until the sound trailed off into silence. Curiosity prompted him to light a candle and venture out to the hallway. He found Camille standing in the doorway across from hi
s.

  “Strange noises wake you?” The corners of her lips curled up into a smile.

  “Are there any children in the house?” Brandon asked.

  Try as he might, Brandon couldn’t look away from the woman standing there in her nightgown. The candlelight caressed the skin left exposed by the absence of a wrap, creating shadows that that drew his eyes to her curves. He wore only his trousers, which were not good for hiding his arousal as he drank in the delicious sight of her. Thankfully, she seemed unaware of the effect she had on him.

  Camille caught his gaze. “Not since Lord Winship became a full-grown man, and that was a long time ago.” She didn’t seem bothered by their state of undress. She looked down the hallway with a curious expression. “None of the servants have children, and they are too old to be playing games themselves.”

  Brandon was going to recommend they go back to bed, but she took his hand. It was a shock to feel skin that was warm and not clinging to sickness. That pleasant sensation stopped him from saying anything.

  “Should we go in search of the culprit?” She turned to look up at him, and the candlelight shimmered in her dark eyes, making him feel brave. He nodded.

  They took the stairs carefully up to the top floor. It must have been closed for years; the furniture was draped in white sheets, and cobwebs covered everything. A gust of wind rattled one of the windows. Camille jumped at the sound and moved closer to him.

  “I think the area above our rooms is farther back.” Brandon wrapped a protective arm around her and pointed ahead with the other. “It would be on the other side of that door.”

  Brandon assumed the doors would be locked in a house like this, but when Camille reached for the knob, it swung open easily. Something about the vast darkness in the room made him hesitate, but she pulled him forward.

 

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