Ghostly Seduction (Siren Publishing Ménage and More)

by Gwen Campbell

  Oh yeah. She was so up for round two. Sheathing him quickly, she sighed as she settled her knees on either side of his hips, held his cock straight up, and rubbed the tip against her swollen cleft.

  Dropping her head back, she pleasured herself with Lee’s shaft while he cupped her breasts and drew his thumbs across her nipples.

  “You make me impatient,” she breathed as she began to lower herself onto him.

  “Me, too.”

  Together, they gasped as he breached the tight ring of muscle at the mouth of her pussy. With one hand still on her breast, he dug the fingers of the other into her hip and pulled her down. Lee’s size still made her breathing stutter, but the fullness was delicious. She used the strength in her thighs to pump slow and easy. Like he’d filled her earlier, inch by exquisite inch, Shelby took Lee into her body. Arching then tossing her head, she hung onto the sharp rise of his pectorals and began to ride him.

  He palmed her ass, rolled her into him, and urged her to take him deeper. His biceps bulged, and he looked down at where they were joined. The look on his face was all titillated pleasure, and his lips pulled back from his teeth.

  Shelby jerked when she felt other hands on her. Rougher hands skimmed her back, pushing until she was leaning over Lee. The scents of sandalwood and fine cigar competed with Lee’s spicy musk.

  “No,” she gasped without thinking. “Stop.”

  “Shh, baby,” Lee murmured. “Don’t worry. I won’t stop.” He gathered up her hair, kissed her mouth, and filled her with his taste until want made her ache. “I’ve got no intentions of stopping.”

  In her head—or was it behind her?—Shelby heard the deep, masculine rumble of Raleigh’s laughter. Warmed and oiled fingertips grazed her anus, settled, then probed lightly. Like it had a mind of its own, her back arched, allowing him in.

  Lee’s hand slid between his body and hers. When he found her clit, he began rubbing.

  His other arm wrapped around her and held her rocking breasts to his chest as he thrust up into her.

  Shaking her head against the insanity of it all, Shelby felt Lee’s arm. She also felt Raleigh’s chest against her back, the sensation of his chest hairs grazing her skin, the warm, hard press of his body as he laid on her. With a firm hand on her shoulder, he held her in place while the tip of his cock pressed against her ass.

  “No. Gawd no,” she gasped, but couldn’t turn away from the wicked, surreal pleasure. Both men were hard, hot, and eager to possess her. Too turned on to turn away from the delicious decadence, she tipped her hips forward then back. She should stop this, could make some excuse so Lee wouldn’t think she was nuts, but when Raleigh began pinching her nipples, Shelby groaned. She held herself still as her two lovers filled her. As Lee withdrew, Raleigh pressed forward, rocked his hips, just a little until she gasped with pleasure, then eased back so Lee could fill her again.

  “Damn, woman,” Lee groaned. He fucked her slow and deep, unwittingly or unawares, matching the cadence of Raleigh’s strokes. “I can feel your pussy squeezing me, like you’re rubbing me up and down. Damn.” Again, his lips pulled back from his teeth, and he hissed. “That’s some muscle control you’ve got.”

  Raleigh laughed quietly and licked her ear.

  When Lee sped up his strokes, Raleigh did, too.

  Sweating and gasping, Shelby could barely move. Squeezed between her lovers, so full of hard, male flesh it was difficult to breathe, she felt pleasure build inside her. It rolled through her in waves, leveled, then surged again. Lee kissed her. The taste of his need filled her mouth, and she wrapped her tongue around his, aching to draw him closer.

  “I love how you feel, Shelby,” he groaned as he rolled his hips to drive into her. “Love…” His voice trailed off, and he rubbed her clit harder.

  “Seconded,” Raleigh murmured.

  Reaching back, she smacked the ghost’s ribs a couple of times. His response was to pull back until only the head of his cock was inside her. He ran the tip of his finger around her oiled and stretched anus, tickling her sensitized flesh until she started begging.

  “Please. Don’t tease,” she said breathlessly then shivered with delight when Raleigh levered himself up on his hands and knees and used his phantom weight to push back inside her.

  “Yeah. Definitely impatient.” There was laughter in Lee’s voice, delight, too—like he found her enthusiasm irresistible. “Me, too,” he added with a naked honesty that made her heart swell. Holding her even tighter, he sped up his strokes.

  Pleasure built inside her, and this time it wouldn’t be held back. Gasping, crying out, Shelby felt her muscles draw up tight and her pussy throb rhythmically as ecstasy rippled through her, leaving her blind to everything but pounding release. Both her lovers groaned in response to her body tightening around them. They drove into her, hard and deep, making it impossible to breathe. Raleigh came first. She felt the thick heat of his seed filling her as his cock jerked and twitched. He groaned, over and over, humped her madly, and held on too tight.

  Lee lifted his hips hard enough to shove her back onto Raleigh’s length. She could hear Lee grinding his teeth as he trembled. His pole throbbed inside her, the sound of his breathing filled her head. Then he groaned, lay back, and, wearing a satisfied, male smile, pulled her body down onto his.

  Behind her, Raleigh stirred. He kissed her shoulder, caressed her arm, then eased his softening rod out of her. Lee moaned like he could feel the other cock moving in her and assumed it was Shelby’s muscles contracting with the last pulse of her orgasm.

  Anything else would be too fantastical to imagine.

  She squirmed as Raleigh slid his fingers over her ass, gathered up his cum leaking out of her, then pushed two fingers back into her, masturbating her gently.

  “A fine, fine fuck, my beauty,” he whispered, kissed her ear, then fell silent. The warmth and pressure of his fingers faded, then the weight of his body and the wetness he’d left in and on her.

  His scent disappeared.

  As Lee held her tighter and brushed her hair back so he could look up at her, Shelby heard Agatha’s faint, nasal, ghostly giggle drift away in the background.

  Chapter Eight

  “So you haven’t dated anybody in how long?” Shelby divided the scrambled eggs onto two plates, sprinkled each serving with grated cheese, added grapes and sliced tomato, and put the plates on the kitchen island. When Lee wasn’t looking, she glanced around the kitchen. Raleigh hadn’t put in an appearance since last night. When he did turn up again, she and he were going to have a conversation about boundaries. She wouldn’t lie to herself or him about how nasty good last night had been. But it would definitely be a one-off. Raleigh was dead. She was alive, and she deserved as much in her lover. That might make her a selfish ass but break-ups were never pretty or fair. The only thing they were was honest.

  “Eight, maybe nine months. Thanks. This looks terrific.” Lee stopped adding more raisins and brown sugar to his oatmeal, picked up his fork, and dug into his eggs with more enthusiasm than was probably healthy. “There really hasn’t been anybody since Michelle left me three years ago. Since then, I’ve dated a grand total of two women. Friends of friends but nothing panned out.” He shrugged lightly and spooned the last of his yogurt into his mouth. “Maybe I wasn’t ready. I’d like to think I’m ready now, if you’re still interested.”

  Shelby’s breath caught as she took her usual seat beside him. Lee’s dark gaze tracked her movements. His expression was wary. Hopeful, too. It made her want to hug him and tell him everything would be okay.

  Her sentimentality bordered on sappy. Despite that, it felt good.

  “Nothing’s changed my mind since last night. In fact”—she waggled her eyebrows suggestively—“I like you even more now.”

  He took her fork out of her hand so he could kiss her knuckles. “You do, huh? Only there’ll be no more pool-table sex.” Wincing, he rolled his back. One then two of his vertebrae popped. “I need to work these kinks
out. There are some good walking trails in Au Sable State Forest. It’s not far. I thought we could take Tazer.”

  At the mention of his name, the big shepherd cross got up from his bed and walked over to nudge Lee’s knee.

  Lee cupped the dog’s ear and rubbed gently. “You up for a car ride, buddy? And stop nosing around for food,” he added when Tazer started sniffing the edge of Lee’s plate. “You’ve had a chewie and toast. Go lay down.”

  Tazer huffed but obeyed.

  Lee forked more eggs into his mouth and washed it down with a sip of coffee. “And maybe for dinner we could…” His voice drifted away with a hopefulness that was as obvious as it was endearing.

  “I’ve got steaks for the grill. Unless you really want to go out and eat somebody else’s cooking.”

  “Uh-uh,” he replied with an adamant shake of his head. “For tomorrow though, I was thinking of renting two ATVs for the day. We could hit the back country.”

  “Are they fun?”

  “A blast. You’ve never ridden?”

  “Nope.”

  “You’ll catch on no problem.” He finished his eggs and pulled his bowl of oatmeal closer. “It’ll be a great weekend.”

  * * * *

  “Tuxedo purchase…” Shelby said, talking to herself. She scrolled down the spreadsheet on her screen. “Allowable wardrobe expense.” She keyed in the particulars.

  Aaron was her only client who could legitimately claim things like tuxedos and manicures. He operated a fleet of tour boats out of downtown Detroit, some of them offering upscale dinner and dancing packages.

  Detroit. Lee was there now. He’d left yesterday morning while it was still dark. When the alarm had gone off, he’d slapped it into silence, rolled back to her, wrapped his big body around hers, and made love to her in that luxurious bed she was now sleeping in alone.

  He’d be at work, too, and she wouldn’t see him for another three days. It hadn’t taken long for the man to get under her skin.

  Deliberately, Shelby returned her focus to Aaron’s expense receipts.

  Tazer, sprawled on the rug in the middle of Shelby’s office, scrambled to his feet, cocked his head to the side, and trotted out to the hallway. A half second later, Shelby heard faint footsteps, like someone small was skipping on the hardwood floors. Grinning, Shelby waited.

  Tazer spronked back into the room, looking up expectantly—only he wasn’t looking at Shelby. One of his bouncy balls rolled back out the door, and he raced after it. Shelby’s grin widened into a smile when she smelled fresh air and flowers.

  “Hello, Devonna.”

  “Hello, Shelby.”

  Tazer rushed back and sat in front of one of the leather sofas…in front of the cushion that now had a small, shallow dent in it. His tongue lolled out as the fur around his neck began to move back and forth, like tiny hands were running through it.

  “You can call me Devon. Everybody does.”

  Shelby blinked. The hands running through Tazer’s fur now had substance and depth. Where there had been nothing but a dent in a cushion, a familiar child now sat. Devon’s linen dress was as precisely ironed as before. The lace trim looked as rich as ever. Her little Mary Jane shoes were polished and shiny.

  “I like your dog.”

  Shelby hesitated before asking, “Why are you here?”

  The look Devon gave her surpassed the child’s years. Well, the years she’d been alive anyway. “This is my home,” Devon answered, talking to Shelby like she was indulging her denseness.

  “Yes. Um, sorry. I mean, well, you’re a ghost.”

  “Beth used to tell me that.” When Tazer dropped onto his side, Devon slid off the sofa, knelt beside the sprawling shepherd, and rubbed her knuckles against his sternum until he quivered and started rolling his head in obvious ecstasy.

  “She was very nice,” Devon continued. “As nice as you.” The child’s dark hair was glossy, and the usual, pointed bangs hung over her downy forehead. “Although I think I made her sad sometimes. I never knew why.”

  “Who’s Beth?”

  “Oh, a lady who was here before you. She and my father got along very well.”

  “Did they?” Shelby asked dryly.

  “Yes. Beth left. One day I came to visit her and she was gone. She never came back.” When Devon stood, Tazer did, too. He leaned into her slight body until she wrapped her arms around him and started rubbing his shoulders. “For a long time after that there was no lady here.”

  “Did you know Michelle?”

  “I saw her, but she never saw me. I’m not sure she could.” Leaving an obviously disappointed Tazer to trail along in her wake, Devon walked over to the plant Lee had given Shelby. Devon touched the leaves then shifted the pot so it could catch the sun more fully. “She went away, too, but I didn’t mind so much. Not nearly as much as I minded Beth leaving. Michelle eventually saw my father, but that was only after a long time. I think he frightened her.”

  Devon turned her face to Shelby, and her eyes and chin, so like Lee’s, were serious and far too old for her. “You’ll stay, won’t you?”

  “I don’t know. I’m just a guest here.”

  * * * *

  May 8, 1922

  The Almanac predicts a dry summer. Goodness knows we could use it. I and the servants are all but done in keeping Devonna Leigh entertained in this rainy weather. She’s been so out of sorts. Very unusual for her.

  Shelby turned the journal page carefully. Arabella Tanner, Devon’s mother, had written those words ninety years ago. The handwriting was elegant, flowing, and evidenced a study in penmanship few had the time or inclination for anymore. Devon’s latest visit had rekindled Shelby’s interest in the Tanner journals. The ones she’d found after lunch belonged to the Tanner wives. No men. Theirs, if they’d kept journals at all, were probably in another section of the library.

  Another thing had surprised Shelby. After Devon, there had been no mention of any Tanner girls. Sons, yes, but no daughters.

  Raleigh has sent a telegram, letting us know he’ll be in the city at least another week. He says it’s because Bertie’s still at school, waiting on his final exam marks, which haven’t yet been published. It’s a lie. Mr. Tanner is with his latest paramour. Oh he’ll give her up for the summer like he does with her ilk, and assume his roles as dutiful father and husband. Our new cook, though she’s not yet twenty, left her philandering husband. Why is it forbidden for women of my station to do the same? Why must we feign ignorance? We are all far better actresses than any woman on stage today.

  I feel so wickedly bold putting these truths to paper. Though the real truth is, I’ll burn them and re-write the entries, speaking only of the weather, friends who visit, the children’s activities. It is, after all, what we do.

  I shall live wickedly a little longer and leave the pages until tomorrow. This wretched chill is getting the better of me, and I can’t seem to keep warm.

  The sound of an approaching car pulled Shelby’s attention away from the journal. Marking her spot and closing the leather-bound book carefully, she headed for the front door.

  “Hey, Nan,” she called out when the sixty-something women stepped out of an old but superbly maintained Chevy, driven by a guy who looked like he was still in his teens. “You said it was a perfect day for gardening, and it looks like you’re right.”

  Nan shaded her eyes and looked up at the clear blue sky, at the few high and fluffy clouds drifting past.

  “Absolutely. Shelby, come meet the rest of the Historical Society Board.” Four other women, all somewhere between sixty and seventy, climbed out of the car, waved, then started pulling gardening implements out of the trunk.

  “I’ll be back to pick you up around four, Grandma?” the driver asked as he helped unload the car.

  Nan tried to flatten his hair and looked like she was thinking about hauling his low-riding jeans up. The teen, who had her nose, stepped out of reach.

  “Four’s good,” Nan said, and returned his w
ave as he drove off.

  Before she could get out a hi-ya to the others, Shelby was put to work. She had to fetch the wheelbarrow, then the stacks of yard waste bags Lee had stockpiled.

  “You ever use a soil pH testing kit, Shelby?” Em Fletcher, one of the Fab Four—or so Lee referred to them—handed Shelby a little cardboard box. “It’s easy peasy.” Em was the tallest of the bunch, and she smiled almost all the time. Em’s hair was dyed a determined brown and sported a seriously expensive-looking cut. “The soil around here tends to be acidic because of all the pine trees. We’ll sweeten it up a little by adding a handful of lime. Test it for us so we’ll know how much to add.”

  Feeling her brow furrow, Shelby started reading the instructions on the box. “I didn’t understand a word you said.”

  “That’s okay, honey.” Lucy Spence, the short, wiry blonde, said. She gave Shelby a quick squeeze then started yanking dead mums out of the closest planting bed. “Everybody has to start somewhere. Nan says you’re an accountant. Snazzy sign you’ve got out front. What’s your senior’s discount on tax preparation?”

  Amazed and put to shame by the women’s energy, Shelby managed not to wheeze as she rolled along in their wake, raking up yanked plants and trimmings and piling the filled bags up alongside the gardener’s cottage. Charlie, Lee’s maintenance man, was coming by tomorrow. He was going to give the lawn something called a fall cut and feed, and dump the bags in a secret location in the forest where the contents could rot into something he referred to as black gold.

  For an old guy, he’d looked pretty turned on when he talked about it.

  Shelby hadn’t asked.

  As the women worked, they reminisced about their activist days, about tying themselves to trees in protest of the new state highway cutting through a sensitive stand of white pines. Shelby could picture them in tie-dyed skirts, love beads, and headbands. When Nan started dropping hints about a pitcher of margaritas going down good just about then, Shelby added bartender to her list of conscripted duties.