Waking Sebastian

by Melinda Barron

  A warning bell sounded in Michelle’s head. “Charles? Why do you talk about yourself as if you’re someone else?” This little muse session had taken a wrong turn somewhere. Michelle stiffened and started to rise but the gentle hands held her down.

  He gathered her breasts in his palms and he massaged them gently, the caresses sending tingles of pleasure through Michelle’s body.

  “I can smell the wetness from your quim.” His voice was low. “I know you want me inside you.”

  Michelle shuddered and shook her head. “Charles? This is too real. Something’s wrong. I don’t think you’re Charles.” Yes, something was very off kilter here, but Michelle didn’t care. She felt no real danger. The only other people in the house were the caretakers, a husband and wife team. Michelle had already met the husband when he’d picked her up at the airport. He was in his sixties. These were not sixty-year-old hands that caressed her.

  Her imagination was just running away tonight. She needed to relax, let it flow.

  “Close your eyes. Don’t be afraid, little one. I won’t hurt you.”

  “Where have I heard that before?”

  “Close them. Trust me as you would have Hannah trust Charles.”

  Michelle complied, wondering where this wonderful fantasy would take her next. Would it hurt if she imagined him fucking her? It had been so long since she’d been filled. Her pussy clinched as if to say, “Yes, I’ll take him. Bring it on!”

  Michelle smiled as her dream rounded the bench and sat down next to her. She trembled when his hand danced across her stomach.

  His fingers strayed down to her thigh, his caress light and sensual.

  “Damn,” Michelle whispered. “How come I’ve never been able to conjure you up before?”

  The new muse applied gentle pressure and Michelle spread her thighs. She wanted this. Needed this. Even if it was only a fantasy.

  Her groans deepened as his fingers moved inside her, his thumb finding her clit instantly. She bucked against him as his mouth found a nipple and sucked it in deeply. He nibbled, the pressure of his teeth sending bolts of lightning to her womb, spreading down to her clit.

  “Oh my God, yes,” Michelle said hoarsely. “If I can get Charles to act like this, Hannah’s virginity doesn’t stand a chance past chapter five.”

  The pressure on her clit increased and the muse raised his lips and gently bit her earlobe. Michelle could feel long hair tickling her stomach and breasts.

  “Long hair, huh? What are you a pirate or something? This is the beach. My next book could be set here. A treasure hidden inside the house maybe? The heroine could team up with a gorgeous pirate to find it, but of course he’d expect payment, in the form of her lush body. Yeah, I like that idea.”

  She opened her eyes, and stared into a pair of beautiful clear blue ones.

  The muse’s fingers still worked on her clit, the pressure building as she ground herself against him. My God, it felt good.

  “Who are you?” The words came out on a breath as Michelle fought to control the urge to scream, “Fuck me please.”

  “Shush, little one,” he whispered, his lips feathering kisses up and down her cheek and neck. “Spend for me. I want to see it. Need to see it. Spend for me now.”

  He bent his lips back to her breasts and then pinched her clit. The pressure from his strong fingers sent Michelle over the edge.

  The rising sun burst across the beach, sending flickers of soft light across the sand. The morning rays flashed through her brain as her orgasm rocked her body. Her hips bucked against him as he continued to stroke her, his fingers spreading wetness through her pussy.

  “Yes, yes, my sweet one, that’s it.” His voice caressed her ear as she soared.

  When she finally settled back in her body, she watched with wonder as he raised his fingers to his lips and licked them. His groan of extreme pleasure filled the air.

  “So good,” he whispered. “You taste so wonderful.”

  He traced his fingers back down her stomach and caressed her wetness again.

  When his fingers moved inside her, Michelle let out a sharp intake of breath. She had never had this real of a fantasy while writing a book. Was it the ocean? Or the beach? If it was, she was going to take up residence here. Build a little hut right next to the cabana.

  “Does my new muse have a name?”

  “My name is Sebastian,” he said as he lowered his lips to hers. His tongue probed her mouth as she moaned against his lips. “And I’ll be your muse as long as you like.”

  He kissed her again and Michelle licked at his lips, welcoming his tongue into her mouth. When his lips and the strong feel of his hands disappeared, she cried out in frustration.

  Michelle opened her eyes. Sebastian was gone. Her fantasy was over. But it had left her with a wonderful orgasm and a great new direction to restore the sexual tension in her book.

  Michelle ran naked toward the house. She hurried up the stairs and looked at the clock. It was just after six-thirty, but she didn’t care. She’d been up all night anyway, and who needed sleep when their creative juices were flowing? Hannah and Charles would be happy tonight.

  Chapter Two

  Mark’s fax machine hummed as Michelle punched in her agent’s number. She’d been trying all morning to get a signal on her laptop to send out her reworked pages, but had so far been unsuccessful. So it was time to resort to something she hadn’t used in quite a while: the fax machine.

  A smile had been permanently etched on her face all morning. She grinned as she remembered Sebastian’s strong fingers, blue eyes and beautiful blond hair. So what if it was a fantasy. Sebastian had inspired some of the greatest writing she’d done in years.

  She’d spent part of the morning designing a story around him, and he was quite the naughty little boy. Her body quivered at the memory of his fingers. A giggle escaped her lips as she imagined the look on Sandra’s face when she read the revisions. Her agent would probably salivate all over them. Hannah was still a virgin, but both she and Charles were very satisfied. And Hannah hadn’t run from the room screaming when she’d seen Charles’ cock. As he held Hannah in his arms afterward, he’d tipped an imaginary hat to Michelle, who had winked back.

  The fax machine spit out a successful report, and Michelle gathered her pages and returned them to her room. Time to search for food. She’d written until one in the afternoon, then took a little catnap. Now she was starving.

  The house was huge and her bare feet padded quietly across the tiled floors. Occasional rugs cushioned her steps as she walked from room to room. Beautiful wicker furniture filled the spaces she passed through.

  She stopped in the middle of what seemed to be a third living room and sniffed. The smell of freshly baked bread filled her senses. She followed the aroma to the back of the house where she found a small black woman pulling a pan from the oven.

  “You’re just in time,” the woman said without looking back. She sat the bread pan on the oven. “It’s best when it’s warm.”

  “Hello.”

  “You are Michelle and I’m Marta,” the woman turned to Michelle and her smile lit her face. She held out her hand and Michelle took it, impressed by her firm grasp. The woman really was tiny. Michelle wondered if she was more than five feet tall and weighed ninety pounds. Still she looked very sturdy.

  Marta swept her hand toward a table. “Help yourself to whatever you like while I slice the bread.”

  A variety of fruit overflowed from a bowl. Michelle selected a fresh peach, sat down and took a bite. The juices dribbled down her chin and she groaned.

  “Delicious.”

  The older woman nodded her approval and placed several thick slabs of warm bread in front of Michelle. “The jam is fresh.” She indicated three jars on the table. “Or you can have butter if you prefer. Or both, like my Nicholas.”

  Michelle reached for the strawberry jam. “Is Nicholas your husband? He picked me up at the airport last night.”

  “
I’m sorry I couldn’t go with him, but I had things to attend to. Do you have everything you need?”

  Michelle took a healthy bite of bread and let her nod do the talking. When her mouth was empty, she said, “I’m sorry I missed breakfast, and lunch it seems.”

  “You are not on a schedule here.” Marta placed a full glass of a dark liquid in front of her. “This is tea. I cook three meals a day: eight a.m., one p.m., and seven p.m. But if you miss one, you are welcome to anything in the kitchen. This is your home now.”

  After her first piece of bread was gone, Michelle slathered a second one with what looked to be blackberry jam.

  “Have you lived here long?” Michelle muttered the words around her food, thankful her mother wasn’t here to criticize her for her lack of manners.

  “The main house was empty for many years before Mark bought it,” Marta said. “But my Nicholas and I have lived in our home for ages.”

  Michelle looked out the large bay window to where Marta pointed after she placed a plate of cheese on the table. A smaller clapboard house was nestled amid the trees.

  “If you need us at any time, you can find us there.”

  Michelle swallowed a piece of cheese then asked, “When will Kate be back?”

  “Not until next week.”

  “Next week?” A second bite caught in Michelle’s throat and she coughed. “She said a few days. That’s more like seven or eight days. Today’s only Monday.”

  Marta laughed. “Mark had unexpected business in London. He likes to have Kate with him. They are so in love.”

  Irritation grew in Michelle for the first time that day. “True they are, but to invite someone to stay and then leave for that long? Kate’s always been impulsive, but this takes it to a new level.”

  “Don’t be upset with her,” Marta said. “She said you needed a quite place to finish your book. That you had a relationship that ended badly and would enjoy the quiet time.”

  Damn Kate! How could her friend discuss her man problems with a total stranger?

  “You are angry,” Marta said softly. “Please don’t be. Kate and I talk about a great deal.”

  Michelle tried to tamp down her annoyance. Being alone here wasn’t that bad, but it wasn’t what she’d expected. Still, she had work to do, and it was hard to stay upset when you’d had a muse-induced orgasm that caused a rush of creative juices.

  “Tell me about the house,” Michelle said in an effort to change the subject.

  “Built in 1835 by Joseph Talburt.” Marta took a sip from her own glass of tea. “His family moved here from England where he ran a shipping firm. He tried to establish the business in Florida, but failed. His wife left him and he died penniless.”

  Michelle scrunched up her nose. “Not a very pleasant story.”

  “No, but it gets better,” Marta said. “The Maddox family bought the property soon after Talburt died. Benjamin Maddox tried to farm indigo, and had a little success with it. But he also had a shipping company that was very successful. The house stayed with his family until the 1930s when the last of Maddox family died. Mark and Kate bought it last year.”

  “You said you have lived here for a while,” Michelle said. “Even when the house was empty?”

  Marta was working with a knife and something Michelle couldn’t see on a cutting board. “A member of my family has served as a guardian of the house since the late 1800s.”

  Michelle felt a chill run up her spine at the odd choice of words. “Guardian? What are you guarding against? Is the house haunted, possessed, cursed?”

  A dark cloud passed over Marta’s face and Michelle felt a shimmer of doubt crawl through her stomach. Her doubt quickly changed back to the irritation she’d felt earlier. What sort of situation had Kate left her in, exactly?

  “We…” The ringing telephone interrupted the older woman, who ran across the floor and grabbed the receiver. Michelle almost had the feeling she was reaching for some sort of lifeline, to escape the question posed to her.

  “Kate,” Marta said, motioning toward Michelle. “How are things in London?”

  There was a pause and Marta nodded. “Yes, she’s right here.”

  Michelle took the phone from Marta who mouthed, “Dinner at seven.” Then the older woman bolted out the back door. Michelle stared after her, a puzzled look on her face.

  “Mick?” Kate’s voice filled the kitchen and Michelle raised the receiver to her ear.

  “Well if it isn’t my absent hostess. Thanks for not being here, wench.”

  Kate laughed. “Oh please, you have two weeks until your deadline. By the time I get home, you’ll be finished with your latest masterpiece and we can play on the beach. And I can introduce you to some of Mark’s hunky friends.”

  “No fix-ups,” Michelle growled. “I thought I made that perfectly clear.”

  “We’re just planning a little party for Mark’s birthday a week from Saturday night,” Kate explained. “Some of his friends are gorgeous. Tall dark and handsome, just the way you like ‘em.”

  Michelle thought about Sebastian; her tall muse who was light and handsome. She pictured his long blonde hair and beautiful blue eyes. She still didn’t know how she’d created him. None of her heroes were blonde.

  “Are you listening to me, or are you really that pissed?” Kate’s voice had a tinge of doubt. “If you’re mad, I’ll fly home tomorrow.”

  “Don’t be silly. I’ll pretend that this huge house is mine. I’ll eat all your food and drink all your booze. Got any porn I can watch while I suffer the nights by myself?”

  Well, not exactly by myself. Sebastian will be here.

  The thought brought a smile to her face.

  Kate’s laughter drifted over the lines. “Behave. I’m not giving you our porn stash. But I could always call Ducky. He’s a friend of Mark’s who lives up the road. He could keep you company at night.”

  Michelle joined in the merriment. “No thanks, I have to work. And I’m not sure I want to dally with someone called Ducky.”

  Plus I have Sebastian, whom I plan on calling out again tonight.

  “His real name’s Josh,” Kate said. “And he’s kinda cute. Maybe you should give a blond a chance this time.” There was a lingering pause. “Fine, I’ll respect your wishes until the book is done. Then all bets are off. See you soon.”

  The phone went dead and Michelle called out Kate’s name. Damn. She didn’t have a chance to ask about Marta’s reaction to her question earlier.

  The idea that the house was haunted didn’t sit well with Michelle. Several of her books featured haunted houses, but that was fiction. The heroines had big strong heroes to protect them.

  Michelle was spending her nights in this big house by herself. Ghosts and demons would not be welcome housemates. Perhaps she would just have to conjure up Sebastian to sleep with her at night and scare them all away for her. She imagined cuddling against his muscular chest as he caressed her hair, and other soft places.

  It wouldn’t be hard to forget about ghosts while Sebastian stroked her to orgasm. She waited for Marta to come back but gave up after twenty minutes. She had several rewrites to finish, more sex to incorporate and three more chapters to write.

  After she was done she would reward herself with another fantasy about Sebastian during a midnight swim. Then her muse could help her with tomorrow’s writing.

  * * * *

  When the rewrites were done and the first of her three final chapters outlined, Michelle went to the kitchen only to find it empty. She looked at the clock and shook her head. It was after eight and the sun was setting already.

  A note from Nicholas said that he and Marta had gone to town and would be back late. Dinner was in the refrigerator.

  Michelle wondered if the trip was scheduled or if it was an attempt by Marta to avoid Michelle’s questions. She really had freaked out when Michelle asked about the ‘guardianship’ of the house. It seemed such a strange word to use when discussing a house. She could think
of any number of others: caretaker, custodian, curator. Well, she supposed she could think of anything that began with a C. She snorted out a laugh and opened the refrigerator, all thoughts of the wayward residents fleeing from her mind.

  Her taste buds watered at the sight of a plate of peeled shrimp surrounding a bowl of cocktail sauce. A bowl of salad filled with greens, oranges and almonds sat beside the seafood. A whole cheesecake topped by large strawberries sat on the lower shelf.

  Michelle made a picnic on the screened-in back porch. She helped herself to a cold beer and started in on the shrimp. There was just enough of a breeze to cool things off a little. Funny how she hadn’t noticed the heat this afternoon while she’d been writing. She’d been too focused on Charles and Hannah.

  Now she glanced out at the palm trees and bushes, wondering what secrets they held. This was a manor house that had survived the years. Children from previous owners would have played there. Had they buried items that could be found now, giving clues to life in Florida in the 1800s? It might prove interesting to go out and do a walk-through, see if she could find something. Of course, looking for buried treasure would be intensive, and she didn’t have time for that. She needed to work.

  Thoughts of Hannah and Charles flittered through her mind as she ate all the salad and a good portion of the shrimp before pushing herself away from the table. Her mouth called for the cheesecake but her stomach rebelled. Best to wait for later, she knew. It would make a good midnight snack while she was clacking away at the keyboard.

  The sound of the surf hitting the shore brought back memories of last night. She closed her eyes and saw Sebastian’s large skilled hands. She shivered as she remembered him stroking her to orgasm.

  A fantasy had never been that real. She’d always imagined her male hero as a muse while she was writing. This was the first time, however, that a new muse had pushed the current muse away. Never had one cause her to get herself off on a beach while she imagined looking into his clear blue eyes. For that matter, she’d never had a muse with blue eyes. Her heroes always had brown eyes. Just like Justin.