by Eden Ashe
She winced. “I’m sorry, really. I just….” She’d rather him think her flighty than realize how worried she was that sex with him had opened a floodgate inside of her. Lust, need, wonder, fear, and so many more emotions she couldn’t untangle raged through her, all of them—every single goddamned one—directed at, and because of him. “What were you doing?”
A predatory gleam she’d never expected darkened his eyes. He tossed the towel onto the table and stalked toward her.
So busy trying to figure out if she should stand and fight, or flee like the hunted gazelle she felt like, Jilly didn’t move, fascinated as he caged her body against the refrigerator, one hand curled around her hip and the other one braced next to her head.
The heat of him threatened to scorch her from the inside out. She tipped her head back and her body arched without her permission until her hardened nipples brushed against the solid wall of his chest.
“What?” He skimmed his nose down her throat. On the way back up, he used his tongue, licking at her skin like she tasted of heaven. “You just…what? Were you watching me, baby?”
Sure her insides had liquefied, Jilly all but melted into a puddle of turned-on female. Despite his smug smirk, or maybe because of it, she wanted to grab his shoulders, haul herself up his body, and plunder his delicious mouth.
She didn’t even care her lust for him had come out the blue, slamming into her so hard she’d been blinded by it. And she didn’t care it didn’t make sense, or that getting sexually involved with him could put her entire future at risk.
Because it was Luke. She’d risk everything for him.
The loud click, like pieces of a puzzle she’d never known she should be putting together fell into place, and she jerked.
“Jilly.”
Good. God. Low and dark, and somehow wicked, his voice washed over her, tickling her nerve endings until she did a full-body shudder. “Yes?”
His smirk melted into a satisfied, hungry grin. He bent his knees and straightened, bringing her to her toes with him, and settled his hard, muscled thigh right between hers. Sucking in ragged gasps at the intense pressure, if he didn’t move his leg soon, he’d feel how much she wanted him when it soaked through both their jeans.
Instead of removing his thigh, he used his grip on her hip to drag her forward, so the friction against her clit had pleasure ripping through her. “It’s okay to want me. Christ knows I’m already going crazy needing you again.” He skimmed a palm under her shirt and over her belly before cupping her breast, his dark, hypnotic gaze never leaving hers.
The groan of need that escaped him vibrated through her, and she’d never forget the sight of strong, solid Luke closing his eyes, obvious pleasure shuddering through him.
Biting her lip, she lowered the zipper on his jeans and slid her hands behind it, giving in to the urge to squeeze his butt, before she yanked the denim down to his knees.
He caught her when her legs went weak, stormy need in his eyes and…something she couldn’t define. Something that came from his very soul. Rising on her toes, she skimmed her lips over his jaw, his mouth, then nipped at his bottom lip before lowering to her knees.
This would be what killed him.
Either that, or he’d already died, gone to heaven, and Jilly was his reward. Not that he cared which, as long as she didn’t stop.
Her tongue worked magic along his cock, licking and teasing, driving him to the brink of insanity over and over again. Then, when his control slipped and he couldn’t take any more of the pleasure, needing to be inside her before he came, she swallowed him whole.
He staggered, catching himself on the fridge when his vision grayed and entire world narrowed down to the woman kneeling before him. Grasping the back of her neck, he was torn between wanting to be buried balls-deep between her legs or begging her to never stop the sweet torment of her mouth.
With a monumental orgasm building, he had to pull her away to avoid embarrassment. Helping her to her feet, his heart stuttering at the mix of need and emotion in her eyes, he dragged her shirt over her head, his mouth watering when her breasts bobbed with the motion, her sweet, pretty pink nipples puckered and waiting for his mouth. He licked one, teasing it while he removed her jeans and then, with an almost-savage growl, hitched her up and slammed himself home.
Her head fell back on a scream, a climax rippling through her and taking him straight to the gates of hell. Working to hold the right angle, he dragged the orgasm out for her. Damp with sweat, he ground his back teeth together with the urge to pound into oblivion inside her.
When her shaking reduced to shivers, he hooked her legs around his waist and fucked them both to madness. He’d never felt anything as perfect as Jilly wrapped around him, clinging, matching him stroke for stroke, giving him everything he demanded of her. He allowed her to keep nothing back as his mouth savaged hers, and his hands possessed.
If she regretted it in the end, he’d deal with that later.
When her body clutched around him again, he swallowed her scream and shoved them both over the edge and into the stars.
***
He had no idea how much time had passed before her small hand pushed against his shoulder. Glancing around the kitchen, he frowned. What the hell? “When did we get to the floor?”
“Hmm?” Jilly, sprawled out on her stomach beside him, lifted her head long enough to push her mass of hair out of her face, her eyes appearing as dazed as he felt. “Unlock the door?”
He chuckled and rose to a sitting position, her sigh of contentment arrowing straight to his heart. Then, with one arm and a quick movement, he had her hauled off the ground and settled in his lap. He’d loved her for five, long goddamned years, before he’d even known what she tasted like. Felt like. How perfectly she responded to him, and fit him. Now….
Christ . Now I’m as good as fucked, seven ways to Sunday.
She straightened, nudging his cock with her hip, and a quick grin flashed over her beautiful face when it twitched back to life. Shaking her head, she gripped his face with both hands. “The sink. What were you doing with the sink when I came in?”
“It wasn’t working. We don’t have electricity either.” He frowned when she leapt to her feet. “Jilly?”
When she grabbed her pants, he sat back against the fridge, folding his arms behind his head to watch her struggle into them. He’d have to be dead and buried not to enjoy the sight of her breasts bobbing and swaying with the action, before she bent to grab her shirt.
“I heard a click when we were making out.” Pulling her hair out of the back of her shirt, she darted to the sink. Nothing happened when she turned on the faucet, and the lights didn’t so much as flicker when she hit the switch. She nibbled on her bottom lip before jogging to the back door. But when that remained locked, she sighed and slumped against the wall. “That was stupid.”
Not liking where her thoughts seemed to be taking her, he scowled. “What? It sounds reasonable to me. Last time we had sex, the attic door magically opened. Why wouldn’t the back door be unlocked this time?” He snorted at his own words, sure the house, and his non-stop proximity to Jilly, was making him batshit crazy. But he checked the window over the sink anyway.
It opened.
She stood beside him while they gaped at the small opening. Not big enough for even Jilly to fit through, but it was something.
After a long moment, she raised her gaze to his face. “Okay, this may sound crazy, but maybe us having sex really does…unlock things?”
“Yeah. That sounds crazy.” But he had no other explanation. “Stupid question. Has this house ever been haunted?”
Shaking her head, she said, “Not that I know of, but Nana always threated to come back as a ghost and haunt me if I didn’t settle down before she died.”
He stared at her. “That’s crazy.”
“I know.” Nodding, she added, “But do you have a better explanation?”
“Yes. Kids playing games—”
; “And managing to seal every one of the windows and doors, and lock us in the attic?” One brow lifted. “Then unlock the kitchen window—from the inside—without us seeing? While we were screwing each other’s brains out?”
His cock leapt to life again, but he forced his brain to focus on the topic at hand. “This house is old, the frames could be warped—”
“Nana said you replaced them all just last year.”
Christ. Yeah, he had. Snatching the closest chair, he collapsed into it.
That had been a stupid, insane theory, and he was exhausted. Or Jilly clouded his thinking. But his father had always told him, when all rational theories are exhausted, the only choice left is to accept the fantastical ones.
Luke and Jilly were trapped inside a haunted house.
Chapter Seven
Leave it to her grandmother to haunt her house so Jilly would get a boyfriend.
And not just a boyfriend, either. Oh, no, it all made sense now. Nana had never done a single thing in her life without a reason, and Jilly—as well as Luke—had been confused about why the old woman had left him part of her home. Nana didn’t want Jilly to end up with just anyone. Nana wanted her with Luke.
The man narrowed his eyes at her. “I’m not going to like whatever you’re thinking, am I?”
She offered a shaky smile, doubting he’d love the idea of being part of her grandmother’s master plan.
Which brought her to the next question—why had her grandmother chosen him, when Jilly hadn’t even told Nana how she felt about him?
“I think it’s my Nana,” she finally managed. When his left eye twitched, she wrinkled her nose and wandered to the fridge. Neither of them had eaten in hours. She growled when the door wouldn’t even budge. Seriously? “Doing the haunting, that is. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
He stretched out in his chair and watched her with an intent gaze. Then, crossing his arms, he lifted an eyebrow, all tightly wound, extremely hot, pissed-off male. “How do you figure?”
“How else do you explain inheriting half of my ancestral home? She stuck us together so we’d fall in love.”
“Great.” His mismatched eyes never left her face, refusing to give her an inch. “She’s your grandmother. Tell her she’s pissing me—” A drawer across the room flew open with a bang.
A spoon flew at his head, and Jilly yelped and hit the floor. He didn’t have time to duck before the projectile grazed his left eye.
“Off,” he roared, jumping to his feet, pressing a palm to the injury. “Are you fucking kidding me, you old bat?”
Wise enough to scoot under the kitchen table and cover her head with her arms, Jilly leaned out from under it to glare at him. “Antagonize the ghost, Luke. That’ll help. Really.” When he growled at her, she shrugged. “No, it’s an awesome idea. We have no food, no water, and no way to get out. But let’s keep pissing her off.”
He half-snorted. “We are not having sex again just to appease your voyeuristic, batshit-crazy grandmother.” A plate flew at his head, and that time he did manage to duck before it hit the wall behind him and shattered. Then Luke crouched eye level with her and gave her a pleading look. “Please figure out how to control her.”
She gnawed on her bottom lip. “I don’t know what she wants. The only thing that makes sense is that she wants us to be...well...together. So she’s locking us in.”
Temper flickered in the depths of his eyes, one of which had a nasty bruise forming beneath it. He scrubbed a hand over his face and grimaced. “And convincing her it’s none of her goddamn business isn’t going to work.”
“I don’t think so.” She shook her head and tried to figure out what her grandma’s ultimate end goal could be. “How would Nana know that you were attracted to me? We weren’t even aware of that fact until two hours ago.”
Shifting on a sigh, he sat hard on the floor, and pulled his knees up, bracing his arms against them and watched Jilly. “That’s not exactly true.”
“How?” She drew her brows together. “I had no clue.”
In high school, she’d had a wicked, consuming, teenage-sized crush on him. She’d worshipped the ground he’d walked on and would have given anything for him to notice her. But then she’d met Mike, and her world had fractured at the hands of an abusive, cheating boyfriend. By the time she’d healed and found the missing pieces of herself again, she’d needed the fierce stability Luke—her friend—had offered. And she’d thought she put her foolish, girlish dreams of being with him aside.
“Jesus, Jilly, what more do I have to say to you today to get you to see what’s right in front of your face?”
The temper in his words had her head snapping back, and she gaped at him, sure wishful thinking had her imagining the need in his face. Her breath caught somewhere in her lungs as she searched for an answer. “Maybe you should tell me in clear, methodically spelled-out words,” she whispered.
“Yeah.” Making a frustrated sound, he surged to his feet. “That’s not going to happen. I’ll be fucking goddamned before I’m the only vulnerable—Christ!” The freezer door popped open and bashed him in the back of the head. He hit the floor. “Fine! You win, you crazy old woman!” Rising to his knees, he glared at Jilly, more pissed off and…vulnerable than she’d ever thought possible. “I love you. All right?” He shifted his gaze to the ceiling. “Are you fucking happy now?”
In answer, the faucet emitted one loud gurgle before water gushed in a steady stream.
Luke stared at the faucet, the ceiling, the floor. Anywhere but at Jilly. He didn’t need to see the doubt and regret flickering over her beautiful face, his heart in his goddamned throat while waiting to see which emotion she finally settled on. The woman owned his heart, and it exhausted him. Exhausted him to know he’d never have her, that she was just out of reach. His choices with her were to either break her heart and force her to give up her family’s home, or live in misery for the rest of his life.
They weren’t options. They were Fate’s way of laughing at him.
“Wait. You love me?”
“No.” He shook his head, and stared at a blank space on the wall, not caring if it made him a chickenshit. Anything was better than being honest. “That would make me the biggest, most masochistic asshole on the face of the Earth.”
“Luke.” She scooted a little closer to him. “You love me.”
“Just…hell, Jilly. Drop it. For the love of fucking Christ, pretend I didn’t say that.”
“I can’t.” Cupping his face, she forced him to look at her. “I don’t want to.”
Damn it all, he hated feeling vulnerable. She held his whole damned world in her tiny hands while he risked everything. It didn’t sit well with him. “Why not?”
She rubbed her fist over her chest. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes. I’ve made bad choices and screwed up. But somewhere in the back of my mind, deep in the darkest, most sheltered part of my heart, I’ve always been in love with you. So I got really good at pretending we were just friends.”
Too pissed off and edgy to give her grandmother any more of a show, he didn’t mean to move, but if Jilly was playing with him…he gripped her hips.
“Mean it.” The words grated out in a voice more animalistic than his own. “I swear to God, don’t play with me.”
Resting her head against his shoulder, she shifted closer. “I’m not. I wouldn’t.” The sudden uncertainty in her face killed him. “I guess Nana remembered how I used to babble about you in high school and assumed that I’d never gotten over you. I didn’t even realize it until being locked in here with you today.”
He hooked an arm around her waist and hauled her into his lap. “Say it again.”
Her teeth bit into her bottom lip and she graced him with a crooked grin. “Okay. You love me. You, Luke Bannon, love me.”
Relief and emotion flashed through him, until he was grateful he wasn’t on his feet. No way would his legs hold them both right then, and he couldn’t imagine setting her dow
n. He nodded and kissed her once, with all the love and tenderness in his heart. “I love you. Now put me out of my misery and tell me you love me.”
“It’s funny.” Light dancing in her eyes, she grinned up at the ceiling. “I never would have thought—”
He gave a warning growl. “Jilly, I mean—”
“Hush, now.” She patted his chest then let out a whooping laugh when he tucked her body under his and sprawled her out on the kitchen floor. His heart, already hers for so damned long, took a slow tumble at the emotion dancing in her laughing sky-blue eyes. “I love you. Happy now?”
He kissed her, his laugh coming from his very soul. “Delirious.”
As she kissed him back, a distinct click echoed.
They were free.
Epilogue
Jilly sat cross-legged in the middle of the living room floor, with notes and lists—color-coded—fanned out around her, and winced after glancing at her watch. Luke would be back with the lawyers in less than twenty minutes, and she hadn’t solidified her argument yet.
The last week had flown by in a blur of happiness and lust and so much sex, it honestly surprised her she still managed to walk. Not that she’d ever complain. Sex with Luke would never, ever be a hardship and honestly, even after the last week of spending time exclusively with him, it still thrilled her the way he couldn’t walk past her without touching her. The way he brushed his fingertips against the ends of her hair when they sat together. Or the way she’d wake up every morning to his legs tangled around hers, her head tucked up against his chest like he’d reached for her in his sleep and couldn’t let her go. She loved it all. Every second of it.
And she loved him. Not that she ever forgot, but it reminded her of the grief she still felt for her Nana—it hadn’t gone away, her brain accepted it, but every once in a while, it would come out of nowhere and blindside her, knocking her on her butt no matter where she happened to be. Jilly would look at him and all the love and grief inside of her would wrap around her heart and squeeze until breathing through it almost hurt.