by Anna Abner
Holden cupped her right breast in a gentle, reverent palm. She quivered against his fingers, arching her back in a silent plea for more.
He obliged, dipping his head and kissing the very tip of one pink nipple. Oh so slowly, he pulled the peak into his mouth. And sucked.
Rebecca writhed.
Holden drew away, leaving her breasts puckered and exposed. “Put your knees up,” he said.
She drew her legs onto the bed, watching him watch her, positive no man had ever looked at her with such a mix of fascination and undisguised desire.
“Open your legs.”
Her breath was ragged as she let her knees fall wide, showing him her lace panties. The waiting was an exquisite torture. Another minute of lying spread out while he fucked her with his eyes and she’d beg him to touch her. Hell, she’d drag him down on top of her.
Her need built and built until her pulse was a locomotive in her ears and her fingers clawed at the duvet.
“Touch me,” Becca gasped.
He tore her lace panties apart like he was ripping into a Christmas present, and then his warm lips kissed her where her panties had been, and her legs bucked. His fingers dug into her hips, locking her in place. Holden suckled her with the same desperate need in all his kisses, like he might never have her again.
He growled into her, a rumbling vibration of pleasure at her core. Then he slid two fingers inside her, and she thrashed.
Screw locking her hands. Rebecca palmed the sides of Holden’s face, wanting more of him, wanting all of him.
He pushed her left knee up, spreading her wider. His fingers went deeper, and the flat of his tongue teased until she couldn’t take anymore. Crying out, she pulled hard on his hair as he sucked an orgasm out of her, making it last and last and last.
Wrung out and breathless, Becca collapsed, one leg dangling limply over his shoulder.
Bending, Holden lifted her easily and stood up with her wrapped around his waist. She gasped, clinging to his shoulders. Beside the painting of an oak tree, he pressed her against the wall. His hips ground against her, and she felt a zing of pleasure.
He kissed her, tasting of salt and sex. Rebecca lost herself in his warm, slick kiss. Until there was nothing in the world but him.
He entered her with a hard thrust. Threading his arm around her ribs, Holden pumped into her. She locked her ankles behind his back and panted, feeling every ridge in his chest, every inch of corded muscle in his arms. He thrust again, raising her into the air.
The flat-screen TV beside them wobbled. The landscape painting crashed to the floor and splintered. Holden came in a whole-body shudder as Rebecca clung to him, glistening and spent.
Chapter Fifteen
Becca’s cell went off at 5:20 a.m. Caller ID read “Derek.”
“Morning,” she grumbled, burrowing under the covers with the phone. She hadn’t gotten to sleep last night until after midnight. Holden hadn’t been satisfied with one round against the paneling. And neither had she. They’d done it in on the floor and then in the shower before falling into bed.
Holden snored softly beside her, oblivious, and she tried to be quiet.
“I have bad news,” Derek said.
Her stomach dropped. Did he call with anything else these days? “I can’t handle much more bad news. Is it an emergency?”
“More like a funeral.” He took a deep breath. “Maeve is pulling the Havers Street house off the market.”
“What?”
“I called her about your remodeling plan, and she told me it was too much. She isn’t willing to ‘tear the whole bathroom to shreds’ were her exact words.”
Becca sat up, shoving at the blankets. “I don’t believe this. Tell me you’re joking.”
“I wish I were, trust me.”
“Four months,” she hissed into the phone. “I have put the full force of my business behind this house. Do you know how many hours, how much money out of my own—” She kicked the bedside table, bruising her toes.
Holden startled. She laid a soothing hand on his bare arm and lowered her voice. “I’m sorry, Derek. Of course you know. I’m just so angry. What a screw over.”
“You did everything you could.”
“Did she say anything else?”
“She’s going to rent the place instead of sell.”
“With us?” Rebecca could get a monthly managing fee. That would make up for the time and costs she’d already incurred—-mailers, hors d’oeuvres at the open house, emails, staging pieces, flyers, phone calls…
“She wants to rent it out herself.”
So much for a silver lining. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
“I know the feeling.”
“Meet me at the office at seven.”
“Sure thing.”
She hung up and turned toward Holden, unable to hide her disappointment. “My business is sort of imploding at the moment. Sorry I woke you.”
What she really wanted to do was curl into him and sleep, warm and safe, for another three hours.
“Did I hear you say you’re going into work?”
“Unfortunately.” She really hated her job at the moment. “I’ll go take a shower.”
But once in the bathroom, Becca didn’t turn on the water. She wrapped herself in a terry cloth robe and stared in the mirror at her tousled hair and smeared mascara. What was she doing? Everything was so upside down that she hardly remembered what right side up felt like. Once upon a time, her business had been her baby, and she hadn’t had time for relationships. But while she wasn’t paying attention, her final property had crumbled and a stranger had taken over her every waking thought.
Rebecca grabbed her hairspray, gel, moisturizer, and deodorant and lined them up on the ledge above the sink, left to right, tallest to shortest.
Except she didn’t feel better. If anything, she felt worse.
She slumped on the lip of the tub and put her head in her hands. Somehow Holden had wormed his way into her heart, and she couldn’t imagine being away from him. Ever again. The problem was she had a plan that him and his dog and his dead grandmother didn’t fit into. She didn’t know how to make an average relationship work let alone a long distance one. And she couldn’t picture him in her fabulous new McMansion in its gated community in Raleigh.
There was a knock on the bathroom door.
“I’ll be out in a minute,” Becca said.
“Let me in.”
“I’m taking a shower.”
“No. You’re not.”
She didn’t want to know how he knew that. She opened the door a crack. Holden stayed outside, wearing boxer shorts and nothing else.
“I need a few minutes,” she said, too shy all of a sudden to make eye contact.
He put his hands on either side of the door, trapping her. “You’re scared.”
She crossed her arms. “Of course not.”
He looked pointedly at her row of toiletries.
With a frustrated sigh, she swept them all into the sink. “There. Chaos. I must be feeling better.”
“What are you scared of?”
Becca flinched. He was way too perceptive. She was usually better at fooling people. “Why do you think I’m scared of anything?”
“Because I’m getting to know you pretty well. You have everything and everyone around you labeled, organized, and pigeonholed. I don’t fit.” His fingers thrummed the wood doorframe. “Do I?”
Shit. That was spot on. How the hell did he do that?
She opened her mouth to deny it, but their honesty pact made the words stick in her throat. Instead, she answered, “No. But,” she rushed to add, “I was just now trying to figure that out.”
“Right. Well, I want you to remember, I may not have a place in your life now, but that doesn’t mean you can’t make a place for me.” Holden smirked. “You don’t exactly fit in my life either, but I’m willing to adjust.”
“Are you? Do you see a future with us?”
“H
ow about,” he said, running his eyes over her bundled-up form, “we fit breakfast into our plans and go from there? Deal?”
She dropped her arms. “Deal.”
“Hurry up. I’ll order room service.”
When she reemerged, Holden stood at the connecting doors with a mug of hot coffee and a croissant.
She laid her fingers on his bare arm, and a pleasant zing passed between them. Flushing, she grinned like a silly eighth grader and tore into the buttery bread.
“Today’s a big day,” he remarked.
Becca’s smile evaporated. Right, reality. Maeve and a demon and her mother. What a day.
Rebecca lingered at her overnight bag, frozen with uncertainty. What did a person wear to meet her estranged mother? Jeans and a T-shirt? A designer day dress with every piece of jewelry she owned? Would it make her feel better to flaunt her success?
Finally she decided on flat-front khaki capri pants and a tight-fitting turquoise top. Diamond studs in her ears and nothing else. Makeup and hair as usual. That felt normal. Safe.
Holden dressed in his usual jeans and Converse shoes, but today he paired them with a nice long-sleeved pullover.
He led her downstairs, through the breakfast area, and toward the registration desk. Becca got a whiff of waffles and eggs before something fritzed in her brain. Her legs stopped working. She tried to call out for Holden, but everything went quiet and dark.
“Rebecca?” Holden glanced over his shoulder, and his stomach leapt into his throat.
Rebecca collapsed on the floor like a crumpled doll.
He knelt beside her. “What’s wrong?” Then he saw it. The link in the necromancer’s spell, the one Dani had said was too weak, had been corrected, and the magical blowback had knocked poor Rebecca for a loop. It meant the necromancer was getting stronger. And closer to summoning the demon into Rebecca.
Holden lifted Rebecca, who felt lighter than ever, into his arms and swept her through the lobby to a love seat near a picture window. Hands shaking, he arranged her head on an embroidered pillow.
No. It was too soon. He wasn’t ready. Holden needed more time to track down the necromancer responsible, more time to stop him.
When he thought of the way she’d dropped her walls with him last night and gave herself completely to him… His throat tightened, making even breathing difficult.
He couldn’t lose her.
“Everything okay?” the girl at the front desk called. “Do you need an ambulance?”
“Grams?” Holden whispered without looking away from Rebecca.
“I know, bubba. I know.” She appeared at Rebecca’s head. “I’ll do what I can, but you’ve got to hurry. I can’t hold it off for long.”
Holden nodded. Time. There was never enough of it.
Grams’s image shimmered and then disappeared in a burst of white light.
Rebecca curled in on herself, coming to with a groan. “What happened?”
He exhaled with relief, slumping a little. He’d thought he’d lost her. “The bastard strengthened his spell.” He helped her to sit. “How do you feel?”
“Fuzzy.” She massaged her temples with the heels of her hands. “Everything got real dark. Did I pass out?”
“Sort of.”
“What happened?”
“Grams is shielding you. She’ll keep the demon out until we find the caster.”
“How long?”
Holden studied the spell marks floating around her head and shoulders, at the dark cloud hovering over her, and at the very thin sliver of white light that was his Grams.
“We have to move.”
* * *
For the first time in a long time, Rebecca’s office building was dark and locked at 7:15 a.m. Most days she was here by six thirty. And her staff, hand-picked go-getters, were here by seven at the latest. Things had changed. Today she was the first to unlock the front door and turn on the lights.
The whole place felt cold and devoid of life. Just a sad, quiet office, half-packed and waiting to be replaced by a frozen yogurt café or a pageant-wear boutique.
A few weeks ago there had been half a dozen agents working for her plus her own loan officer, two secretaries, her personal assistant, and a computer tech. Now it was a ghost town.
Acquiring the business license and the property and then decorating the place, not to mention staffing it, had been a lot of work. But what was the point? Take away the desks and the lilies and the stylish wall art, and it was simply a room.
It would be a relief to finally close the doors at the end of the month and start fresh.
Except, of course, for Holden. If only Rebecca could figure out how to take him with her to Raleigh. Or say good-bye for good. She’d be working way too hard building a bigger, better business in Raleigh, and she’d have even less free time than she had now. It would be months, maybe years, before she worked fewer than seven days a week. She wished she could find a way for him to fit, like she’d promised, but how? Without giving up too much?
Holden breezed past her into her personal office while Becca pulled out her cell phone.
Jessa answered immediately. “Good morning! Jessa McAvoy with Ryan Rohmer Real Estate. How can I help you today?”
Becca shouldn’t be surprised Jessa had moved on. The girl was a driven businesswoman with a lot of talent. Becca was surprised, however, that Jessa had moved on so quickly and so enthusiastically.
“What happened to our Havers Street deal?” Reecca demanded, rounding the reception desk. “What did Maeve say? Anything? Other than screw you?”
“Oh, Rebecca! Hi! Uh, let me think. She decided at the last minute she wasn’t willing to fix the water damage in the master bath.”
“Did you try to convince her?”
“I did, yes. And she’s waiting for your call. She’s having second thoughts about selling.”
“Derek told me.” Rebecca mimed pulling her hair out by the roots. “I don’t have the energy for this right now.”
“You?” Jessa scoffed. “Miss High Octane?”
Holden didn’t look up from her computer as Rebecca invaded the office.
“Yeah, well, I haven’t been feeling so great.”
She searched her drawers for her electronic tablet before remembering she’d already collected it.
Someone was casting a spell to take away her consciousness, her memories, her very soul. Shouldn’t she try to enjoy her last few days still in control of her own body? But if she let the fear in, she’d never find the bitch doing this. And she really, really wanted to find the bitch.
“Speaking of Derek,” Rebecca said, “where is he? I’m all alone in the office.”
“I haven’t talked to him today.”
Becca’s well-oiled and successful team had disintegrated into dust.
Jessa added, “Anything I can do?”
Becca stopped rifling through drawers. She and Jessa had never been close friends. She’d worked hard, and Becca had trusted her to handle her business, but they didn’t hang out. Or talk about anything other than real estate. Was Jessa capable of hurting her? Did she hold a grudge over Becca closing the office?
“No. Thank you. Good luck at your new job.”
“Thanks.”
“I’m taking a drive to Virginia tonight, but I’ll be back for casino night tomorrow. See you then.”
They hung up.
“All set?” Holden asked, logging off the computer.
“Yep. Let’s stop on the way at the Havers Street house. I need to talk to Maeve.”
They pulled up at the property as Maeve was locking the front door on her way out.
“Good morning,” Becca greeted, giving a little wave.
“I already talked to Derek,” the woman said, speaking in a rushed, clipped tone. “And the other one. I just can’t do what you’re asking.” She unlocked her black SUV and set her shoulder bag in the backseat. “I’m going to hold on to the house after all. It’s easier that way.”
A few d
ays ago Rebecca would have had a convincing argument already composed that would have easily charmed Maeve into agreeing to the remodel. But today Becca just didn’t care enough to bother. It felt like a huge relief to be done with this house and done with real estate in general.
If she looked past the storm cloud on the horizon that was the summoning spell, her future lay open and unmapped, and she could go anywhere from here. Literally, anywhere. Instead of frightening her, it felt liberating.
“Sorry to hear that.” Becca stuck out her hand. “Good luck in the future.”
Maeve’s handshake was firm and quick. “I’m in a hurry. Please move your vehicle.”
Rebecca returned to the Jeep and slid into the seat beside Holden.
“Anything?” he asked, backing away from the house.
She shook her head. “Let’s go find my mother.”
The address her father had given her was in Chesterfield, Virginia, which, after a quick map search on her phone, turned out to be a suburb of Richmond and situated next to a beautiful state forest. Probably an idyllic place to settle down. Becca was silently disappointed the address wasn’t a ghetto or a trailer park or a tenement in some crappy city. But that wasn’t a positive reaction, and she tried to squash it.
“We should be there tonight,” Holden said, leaning over her to read the map.
Clicking off her cell, she asked, “What if it’s her?”
He jammed the key in the ignition and started the engine. “Then we stop her.”
“How?” she pressed. She’d seen him repair a broken picture frame, but a human being was a lot more complex than a piece of glass. What was Holden capable of? And would it even be enough?
“I found a spell to incapacitate her. After that, it’s a matter of breaking the summoning spell for good. If she has it written down, we burn it. Any circles get wiped out.”
“Are you going to hurt her?”
Rebecca wasn’t comfortable with physical violence. She may have a lot of resentment for Nancy Ann, but she didn’t want to see her mother injured or suffering. No matter what the woman had done.
Holden winced. “Of course not.”
“And if it’s not her?”
“We keep looking.” But they both knew there wasn’t much time left for detective work. They needed to find this person yesterday. Yet the chance of a speedy resolution to her little demon problem looked more and more unlikely. They could be at this for months. Months they didn’t have.