Book Read Free

Come To Me

Page 1

by Genevieve Ash




  Table of Contents

  Come To Me

  Copyright

  Dedication

  PRAISE FOR AUTHOR

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Also Available

  Chapter One

  Thank you for purchasing this Wild Rose Press, Inc. publication.

  Come To Me

  by

  Genevieve Ash

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  Come To Me

  COPYRIGHT © 2012 by Genevieve Ash

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Contact Information: info@thewildrosepress.com

  Cover Art by Angela Anderson

  The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

  PO Box 708

  Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

  Visit us at www.thewilderroses.com

  Publishing History

  First Scarlet Rose Edition, October 2012

  Digital ISBN 978-1-61217-596-6

  Published in the United States of America

  Dedication

  A kiss for you,

  My Darling

  PRAISE FOR AUTHOR

  Genevieve Ash

  AND HER BOOKS

  “Genevieve Ash is something of a gem in the erotic romance genre. She has an amazing talent for writing erotic romance. Some stories leave the reader wondering what the point of the book was, but Ms. Ash raises the bar higher for what is to be expected from a Novella or short story.”

  ~ Night Owl Reviews

  Chapter One

  Amanda tossed and turned as the erotic dream overwhelmed her. Her lover appeared to be incredibly sexy with an illusion of beauty, but the details of his face were hazy in the muted dream. Something dark lurked about the hard planes of his face. He was a bad boy that’s for sure; a very bad boy and the freedom of slumber allowed her to enjoy every wicked minute of her morning interlude.

  The hard planes of his body pressed into her softness. She could feel the heat of his cock between her thighs, the rough hairs on his chest scraping across her sensitive nipples and when he kissed her…Oh, he kissed her so deeply that she could feel the ache deep within her core.

  Amanda’s mind was overflowing with sensual images. As her dream lover stroked and caressed her aching flesh, she could feel the pleasure building inside her, keeping her just on the edge of release. She was close to something she didn’t understand, but each time she thought she could reach it, he pulled back.

  Amanda woke abruptly, feeling very alone in her big warm bed. Her body trembled and the dampness of her desire slid between her tightly clenched thighs. The dream had aroused feelings deep inside her that did not often surface. She closed her eyes once more and could still feel her lover’s hands caressing her body. Her hips writhed at the memory and she wanted more. The feelings seemed so real, so intense that, when her breathing quickened and her moans grew louder, she panicked, sitting up abruptly and breaking the spell of her dream lover.

  ****

  Believing in ghosts is not an option for someone who restores old homes for a living. Amanda Wellington had let her imagination run wild before and the only thing it accomplished was wasting valuable time. A commodity she did not seem to have enough of these days.

  An Alberta Clipper roaring across the lake from Canada must have been responsible for the creaking and groaning that Amanda heard within old lath walls. Perhaps it was the decaying shutters slamming against the house or the rusty weather vane squealing in protest as it turned in the wind that caused her increasing uneasiness.

  The radiators knocked and hissed, struggling to bring heat up from the old dirt-floored cellar to the turret room where Amanda worked. Her fingers were numb and the hammer just missed her ankle as it slipped from her grasp. Sighing in exhaustion, she decided to take a break.

  In the kitchen fixing a cup of tea, Amanda was waiting for the kettle to boil when she felt a cool breeze roll across the floor. Shivering as goose flesh rose on her arms, she moved through the kitchen to check windows and doors. Heading down the narrow hallway, Amanda wrapped her father’s old cardigan tightly around her shoulders as the chill settled in her bones. She peeked through the frosty glass of the door leading to the old conservatory. The many windows were what she loved most about this room, but tonight they just let in the darkness and the cold. As she circled the glass-domed room, she found the culprit; an open window so loose on its hinges that the metal frame pounded against the brick ledge in a steady rhythm.

  Heading back to the kitchen to pick up her tea, Amanda went to the library, her favorite room in the house. Rich mahogany shelves reaching from floor to ceiling lined the walls, many still crammed with dusty tomes. Amanda laid a fire in the large stone fireplace and sipped her tea as the flames took hold and climbed higher. Stretching out on the worn leather sofa, she sighed from pure weariness and let the warmth of the fire wrap its comforting arms around her.

  “Amanda, sweet Amanda!” The deep voice resonated in her mind. Trying to shake the cobwebs from her head, she peered from the slits of her half-opened eyes. Before her stood the most magnificent looking man she had ever set eyes on.

  “Sweetness, it is not polite to stare,” he chided gently. Towering over her, he appeared to be at least six and a half feet tall. His broad shoulders and muscular chest were outlined by a snug black tee. Narrow hips were framed by a pair of faded jeans that fit in all the right places, and Amanda could only imagine that the view from behind looked just as delicious.

  “Who are you and what are you doing here?” Amanda’s voice trembled, but not from fear.

  “I am the one you have been waiting for, the one you have cried out for in the night when you think no one can hear.”

  “I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Amanda said defensively, feeling like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

  “I have heard you, darling,” the man said, speaking softly but insistently.

  Amanda heard what she thought was sincerity in his voice. Something inside her longed for it to be true. Her natural compassion reached out to him for but a moment before she remembered it wasn’t real. “This is impossible. I must be dreaming.” Ever practical, Amanda tried to wipe the vision of him from her eyes. Fortunately, he was still there. I could stay in this dream forever, Amanda thought, smiling inwardly to herself.

  “This is not a dream. And everything is possible.” She heard his deep voice whisper.

  “If this is not a dream, then why are we in the ballroom? I remember being in the library.” Even in her subconscious, Amanda felt obliged to challenge him.

  The once magnificent room had seen better days. The gilt mirrors that circled the cavernous room at five-foot intervals were all still miraculously intact. Looking at him with a penetrating stare, she tried to put a finger on what was wrong. Then it hit
her.

  “Holy mackerel, you’re inside the mirror!” Amanda tried to blink away her shocking realization.

  “Yes, it is true,” he said, inclining his head slightly in agreement. “Only you can release me. I have waited so long for you. I must warn you though, I am not for the faint of heart.”

  Amanda knew this could only be a dream, but it felt so real. What could it hurt to play along? It might be good practice for when the perfect guy did come around—if that ever happened.

  At twenty-eight, her love life so far had been pretty dull, almost to the point of non-existence. She never expected that to change, so it never did.

  “Who are you? And why are you in my mirror?” Amanda looked at him curiously.

  “My name is Cameron MacKenzie and I am here to fulfill your wildest dreams.” Without looking absurd, he managed a courtly bow.

  “Oh, I get it. My sister must have sent you. Are you going to turn on a boom box and start gyrating all around me?” She stared without attempting to conceal her interest at the snug-fitting jeans slung low on his hips. They certainly didn’t look like tear away pants, too bad.

  “I do not understand. I assure you that I am only here to bring you pleasure,” Cameron said, his brows knitting in a puzzled frown.

  Amanda snorted slightly and retorted quickly, “Okay, this is my dream, so cut the BS. I have never known a man who could fit that description. You must take me for some kind of fool.”

  “Amanda,” his voice caressed her with its warmth, “look deeply into my eyes and see what it is I am offering you.”

  Amanda looked into the mirror and gasped in disbelief as the erotic images from last night’s dream flooded her mind. Her body responded with the same heat and desire. She could feel the peaks of her nipples hardening and the dampness between her legs. He played out fantasies that Amanda had never admitted even to herself. As she watched his strong, hard body taking her every way and everywhere, she trembled uncontrollably.

  “Amanda, are you truly ready for me?” Cameron’s hazel eyes held the gentlest hint of a smile.

  “Well, Mr. MacKenzie, as much as I would like to continue this dream with myself actually participating in some of those fantasies, there is one problem. You are inside the mirror and I’m outside of it. Presents a challenge, doesn’t it?” Amanda struggled to keep the smug look on her face, feeling a little safer now.

  It was a great dream though. Trying to direct her dream like a play wasn’t working well at all.

  “Amanda, tell me that you truly want me. Show me you are ready. Imagine us together touching, kissing, licking,” Cameron leaned toward her, beseeching her with his golden eyes, “I have waited so long to be with you. I know that you want me. You cannot possibly resist me. I am the one.”

  “Humble, too, I see—arrogant ass!” Amanda covered her inner turmoil with a show of biting sarcasm. “You’re so sure of yourself. Well, guess what, you can stay right inside that mirror for eternity for all I care. The last thing I need is a man like you. Jeez, even my dream guy is a jerk!” She bit her words off angrily.

  Snarling at the insult, Cameron brought his fist up to the glass, shattering the mirror into a million pieces. The sound of breaking glass woke Amanda abruptly. The fire was a pile of barely glowing embers and the library was gloomy with shadows and cold. Her body was sore and stiff from the room’s dampness and her earlier hard labor. Freezing rain pelted the windows with its sharp staccato. Thoughts of her warm down comforter and queen-sized bed were the only things that got her off the sofa. She stretched sinuously and trudged her tired body upstairs, praying for dreamless sleep.

  ****

  Amanda woke to a winter wonderland of sparkling trees. The sun created prisms of light as it shone through the frosty ice-coated limbs dancing within the view of her window. The radiators in the old home must have clogged again because she couldn’t hear them clanking and hissing. Peeking out from beneath the covers, she saw her breath floating in the air. The sudden memory of her erotic dream suffused her with warmth and she felt herself blushing. The weekend renovations of the old mansion along with her full-time day job were obviously taking their toll. She needed to take better care of herself.

  “Next thing you know, I’ll be hallucinating!” Amanda chuckled to herself nervously. As she hurried in bare feet toward the stairs to investigate the lack of heat, she stopped in front of the ballroom’s closed door. With her hand on the knob, she felt a small niggling of fear. This is crazy and I’m freezing. And I’m talking to myself! I have to get out of here for a while.

  After resolving the heat problem and enjoying a pot of strong coffee and some toast, Amanda checked her email, paid a couple of bills, and washed up her dishes. Feeling better, she decided to brave the cold, snowy day. Sliding her lanky legs into flannel lined jeans and donning a wool fisherman’s sweater, she plaited her thick, auburn hair into a single braid to keep it under some semblance of control. Glancing at her reflection in the cheval mirror, she thought she caught movement behind her. She paused as her heart raced anxiously and she could see her breath rising around her in a puff. Closing her eyes, Amanda breathed deeply and slowly, willing herself to relax. As peace stole over her gently, she sighed and muttered to herself, “I’ve got to get a grip!”

  The shrill ring of the phone startled Amanda from her pep talk. Racing for the phone, she tripped, whacking her temple on the corner of the bed. Grumbling, she lunged for the phone, groaning inwardly at the perennially cheery sound of her sister, Megan’s, voice.

  “Mandy! What are you doing?” Megan bubbled enthusiastically.

  “Nursing my sore head right now.” Amanda moaned.

  “Drinking again, huh?” Megan laughed teasingly.

  “No, Megan, you know that I don’t drink often—or well for that matter. I tripped and fell trying to get to the phone. I’m getting a real nice goose egg on the side of my head,” Amanda said, rubbing her head gingerly.

  “Well, I think you need a day of shopping, lunch, and girl talk. I’m worried about you, Mandy. All you do is work, work, work!” Megan began with a familiar rant. “What you really need is a man!”

  “Okay, Megs, whatever you say,” Amanda responded wearily. “Let’s not get started on the man conversation. However, you must be a mind reader because I was going to call you to go shopping today. I need to stop at the salvage yard to find some crystal door knobs.”

  “The salvage yard? You’re hopeless!” Megan laughed cheerily. “I was thinking clothes, make-up, shoes! I so need some new shoes.”

  “I’ll pick you up in an hour. Be ready.” Amanda already knew her sister would not be ready. Punctuality was one of Amanda’s pet peeves and Megan seemed to have missed out on the punctuality gene.

  “I will be ready and waiting when you get here,” Megan promised, still half-laughing.

  “Sure you will, Megan.” Amanda smiled ruefully as she hung up the phone.

  As Amanda pulled on her warm lined boots and grabbed her coat, she knew she couldn’t leave without a quick peek upstairs. Climbing the two flights to the ballroom, she felt a sudden clenching below her navel. As she rounded the newel post, she gasped as something crunched under her heel. Shards of broken mirror were scattered like sand across the worn parquet floor.

  It’s only a coincidence. It can’t be real. Amanda shivered as she remembered the handsome stud from her dream the night before. She remembered how his touch felt hot and urgent. The way his jeans pulled tightly across the zipper, making his arousal evident.

  A single piece of mirror was hanging precariously from the edge of the frame. She could almost see the fantasies that he had created for her within the shiny glass. The things he had shown her were erotic and passionate. She could have never imagined them by herself. She did not know much about the art of lovemaking, but what she saw aroused her in a way she couldn’t explain. Amanda was shocked as the desire to put her hand between her legs became urgent. She quickly looked away from the mirror and headed down the
stairs, closing the door to the ballroom tightly behind her.

  As she headed over to pick up her sister, Amanda still could not shake the sensual images playing insistently in her head. She didn’t even remember stopping at the red light until the angry car horn behind her pulled her from her daydreams. She had to forget about that crazy dream. Maybe she did need to start dating again.

  Of course, Megan was not ready when Amanda arrived. She tapped impatiently on the car’s horn. It was too cold to leave the car and go get Megan, so she was glad to see her sister finally heading out the back door toward the car.

  “Okay, Okay! So I wasn’t quite ready. Big deal! I got a little distracted…well, Wayne got me a little distracted.” Megan was already talking as she opened the car door and buckled in.

  Megan and Wayne had been together for ten years and married for three. They had a new baby at home but still acted like teenagers. Amanda was thrilled for her little sister but had to admit feeling a bit envious at times. Working with burly construction workers all day, Amanda certainly had her share of offers, but she doggedly waited for the one. She knew him by heart, but she was beginning to doubt whether or not such a man actually existed. Until now—now, he was alive in her dreams.

  “Mandy, you look rough,” Megan said softly with concern in her eyes.

  “Thanks, Megs! You look fabulous as always,” Amanda said dryly.

  “That’s because I am in love. I’m telling you, you need—” Megan resumed her rant until Amanda interrupted her.

  “Enough already! I just need some sleep, that’s all. Maybe my dream lover will visit me again,” Amanda said somewhat wistfully.

  “You and your dreams, Mandy! How about a real man for a change?”

  “The one in my dream last night seemed real enough, and he was really hot!”

  “Ooh, it was one of those dreams? Well, at least you’re getting ‘a little’ somewhere!” Megan chuckled.

  “Megs, that’s wrong on so many levels and you know it,” retorted Amanda with spirit. “I must admit though, it was pretty wild.”

 

‹ Prev