Breathless [McKnight, Perth & Daire 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Beth D. Carter

  Jonas spared a quick glance at Nash. “She already ran from us once.”

  “Yeah, left us a damn note,” Nash muttered.

  “We need to catch this guy quick,” Alastair told them.

  “Or what?” Jonas asked.

  “I think she’ll run again,” Alastair answered him bluntly.

  Nash immediately shook his head. “No way. She may have been flighty on dealing with this in the past but Charlotte won’t rest until this bastard is caught.”

  “I agree,” Jonas murmured.

  Alastair looked between them. “You said she already ran from you once.”

  “Not the same thing,” Jonas told him. “That’s about a personal issue, not a professional one.”

  “I don’t know, Jonas. This is very personal to Charlotte. It ruined her life.”

  “Yes,” Jonas agreed. “But she’s different now. You said so yourself.”

  “I wish I had your conviction. I still see her as this fragile girl—”

  “She’s anything but fragile,” Nash interrupted. “Somewhere along the way she found a backbone of solid steel. You just wait. She’ll be the hero in the end.”

  * * * *

  Later that day, Nash and Holly took a trip to the Los Angeles HS base downtown. He didn’t say much about why but Charlotte figured it had to do with visiting the dead girl’s parents. She didn’t ask and her brother-in-law didn’t volunteer. Jonas found conversation with her father, Kira had gone to work, and Delia had gone shopping with Annie.

  Charlotte couldn’t help but think about the ghost. Brandy Hamlet. At least, she thought that’s what Alastair had said. She went upstairs to her bedroom and dug out her tablet, trolling the internet until she came across the news. Yes, there it was, in black and white, the name Brandy Hamlet. She’d been sixteen years old and had been an Olympic hopeful. Did that link them together?

  Even though she wanted to bury her head and cry, Charlotte couldn’t get the image of Brandy Hamlet out of her mind. So she dug out her cell and called Melody. Twice now she’d had a close encounter of the strange kind and she had no idea what it meant that she could see ghosts. Could her gift be evolving? If so, she didn’t know how she felt about that.

  “Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit!” Melody greeted. “I’m as happy as a tick on a fat dog that you called!”

  “So am I, um, about the happy part,” Charlotte said with a small laugh.

  “Ah, shucks, I’m super glad to hear your voice. I’m going to the Parascience meeting next week and I can’t wait to tell them all about you!”

  “Make sure you tell them I’m a normal person.”

  Melody snorted. “You can put your boots in the oven but that don’t make ’em biscuits. You’re about the bravest woman I know.”

  “Are you, perhaps, eating? Did I call at a bad time?”

  Melody laughed. “Nah. I’m still in Missouri. I decided to stay for the burials.”

  “Oh,” Charlotte said. “I didn’t realize the girls were…I had something that came up, something I had to get to.”

  “It’s all good,” Melody replied. “The parents are very appreciative for your help. They wanted me to pass along their gratitude when I talked to you.”

  Hearing that made Charlotte’s heart ache. “I should’ve stayed.”

  “Really, it’s okay. I also talked with Danny.”

  “How’s he doing?”

  “Glad it’s all behind him, although he’s mighty shaken by finding out the whole parents situation.”

  “I can imagine. Ew.”

  “You said a mouthful. Anyway, he’s…grown up. A lot. I think he’ll be an excellent sheriff.”

  “Good.” The conversation suddenly fizzled and Charlotte gave a big sigh.

  “Are you all right, Charlotte?”

  “Something happened. I need your advice, your…medium advice.”

  “Certainly. What’s wrong?”

  “What does it mean when a spirit presents itself?”

  There was a momentary silence and then Melody asked, “What do you mean?”

  “I mean I only see them in altered states but twice now a spirit has manifested before me. And I want to know why. Or how.”

  “Slow down,” Melody ordered. “Let’s start at the beginning. Now, every psychic or medium sees spirits differently. Like I said, I only see an echo of the person.”

  “I know. But how is it I’m seeing them at all?”

  “Well, the easy answer is because you’re psychic, not just clairvoyant. Who was the first?”

  “Zach, Jonas’s cousin. When I was trying to find his killer, he appeared and gave me the clue on where to find his pregnant girlfriend.”

  “Ah.”

  “Ah? Is that a knowledgeable ah?”

  “It is. He was protecting someone he loved, using a powerful emotion like love to manifest. That’s probably why he was so weak when I channeled him the first time I met you, remember that? Who was the second?”

  “Today,” Charlotte said. “A light exploded over my head, right after an intense coldness settled around me.”

  “Oh.”

  “Now that didn’t sound like a good oh.”

  “Was this spirit angry?”

  Charlotte swallowed hard, remembering how the girl practically oozed animosity. “Yeah. She was a mite miffed.”

  “Well, spirits can harvest powerful emotions but they also use power around them, like electricity, to get a point across. Who was she angry with?”

  “Me.”

  Silence stretched for a few seconds before Melody asked, “Do you need me to come help you?”

  “I don’t know. This is…personal. Can I let you know later?”

  “You can call me anytime.”

  “Thanks, Melody,” Charlotte said, and she really meant it.

  A knock sounded on her door and Jonas stuck his head in. Charlotte waved him in and he closed the door behind him with a soft click.

  “Melody, I have to go.”

  “Okay. Don’t be a stranger.”

  “I won’t.”

  Charlotte closed the phone and laid it on the nightstand, next to her tablet. Jonas stood at the foot of her bed and stared at her, his chocolate eyes burning with a heated intensity that took her breath away.

  “Your father went to get some coffee,” Jonas told her.

  “He did?”

  Jonas nodded. “Said I should come up here and seduce you.”

  “I highly doubt he said that.”

  “You could be right. Maybe he said comfort.” He shrugged. “Same thing.”

  “Not exactly, but I’m willing to overlook it.”

  He reached up and began unbuttoning his shirt.

  “Oh,” she said, a little surprised. “You’re serious. Um, in my parent’s house?”

  “You might have had a fantasy of handcuffs but mine involves making sure my girlfriend remains silent while I fuck her in her virginal bedroom.”

  The promise in his eyes had lust heating her blood. Her body immediately flared to life as need throbbed through her. She felt her nipples harden and wetness coat her panties as she watched him take off his clothes, slowly, as if he were giving her a private striptease. She couldn’t believe this was going to happen here, in the room that used to be her childhood bedroom, and the naughtiness of the action led her to start undressing.

  Off came her top. Down went her pants. She kneeled on her bed in a bra, panties, and socks. Jonas stood in his boxer-briefs, the front bulging out impressively.

  “Touch yourself,” he ordered softly.

  Charlotte brought her middle finger up to her mouth and sucked on it, letting him see her tongue lavish the digit. Jonas pulled his cock out of his underwear and fisted it, holding it as he watched her hand travel over her breasts and down her torso and flat belly to slide under the elastic of her panties. She widened her stance as her finger found her clit. The gratifying feeling caused her to moan and Jonas began to pump his dick as he watched
her pleasure herself.

  “Shh,” he admonished. “We don’t want your parents knowing that your door is closed and that you have a boy in your room.”

  The words invoked a role playing game that made her a little breathless. Oh, how very, very naughty.

  “Is your finger sliding into your pussy?” he asked, his voice turning thick with arousal.

  “Oh, yes,” she breathed and her finger slid home, slid deep. Her hips automatically rotated, seeking more. “I want more.”

  “Would you like my hard cock instead?”

  “Yes. Oh, yes, please.”

  In an instant he had pulled his underwear off and had moved onto the bed, on his knees like her, facing her. She went to pull her hand out of her panties but he held it there.

  “Keep fingering yourself,” he ordered. “You’re so fucking hot, Charlotte.”

  She did as he commanded as he reached up to pop her breasts from her bra. He didn’t unhook it, only pulled the scrap of lace up. He bent his head and fastened his mouth over one turgid peak, sucking deep. The stimulating action shot fire through her body to her pussy, making it clench tightly around the finger buried inside. Her head fell back on a moan and he reached up with one hand to put this fingers against her mouth. She opened her lips and grabbed his thumb, sucking it into the wet recess and tracing the nail with her tongue. It might not have been his cock but right now she needed something, anything, to grab onto as he lavished attention on her aching nipples.

  His teeth clamped down on the bud and bit gently, the pain radiating through the pleasure and heightening her senses. She mewled around the thumb in her mouth and her hips bucked. She wanted more and was becoming impatient. The desire had risen too fast to be tempered now.

  He licked his way up, leaving her breast to run up her neck and around to her ear.

  “Are you all about instant gratification?” he whispered.

  And then he removed his thumb and crushed her lips with his, cupping her face to hold her still as his tongue plunged into her mouth. He demanded, he took, his tongue plunging again and again until she was panting with need.

  Jonas raised his mouth from hers, grabbed the hand that was still in her panties, and pushed her forward onto the bed. He pulled her panties down, ripping them in his fierceness. He was like a man possessed, the dominant side of his nature breaking through as he angled her onto her knees, making sure her head stayed on the mattress. She felt exposed, raw, but jumped as his tongue swiped over her slit. His buried his tongue in her pussy, moving up and down as his fingers dug into her hips.

  Charlotte squirmed and tried to push back into his face, but he held her immobile, a slave to his passion and her own desires. He’d never been this…forceful and it more than turned her on. It opened up a side to her nature she’d never fully explored.

  “God, you’re so incredible,” he muttered as his mouth left her.

  “Jonas, I need…please,” she panted. She felt like she was about to explode.

  “Yes,” was all he said as he moved between her open thighs.

  One arm curved around her waist as his upper body leaned over and a second later, he pushed into her, filling her up. The soft mattress didn’t offer her a solid frame to push against so she was helpless in anchoring herself, but the powerless feeling only intensified the heady rush of his strength. Never would she have guessed she’d be the type of woman who liked to be dominated but there was no denying the sexual awareness tightening her body like a snare drum, of the likes she’d never felt before.

  Jonas pressed her down as he slid in and out, each rasp of his cock against her tender skin electrifying every nerve ending. He thrust hard and she moaned with pleasure. He stopped and leaned over her.

  “Shh,” he cautioned. “We don’t want to wake your parents up.”

  The image had her biting her lip. Then he began pumping again with almost bruising force as if he believed the scenario he created, giving no mercy or quarter. His hips drove her deeper into the mattress, and she buried her face in the covers to hide her moans. She wanted to beg more, faster, harder, but he seemed to read her mind. Very quickly it became about the building explosion. He pounded into her, each thrust slamming her deeper into the bed. Jonas increased his strokes, jerking hard inside her. The arm around her waist slid down, finding the spot where they were joined and sought her clit. His thumb rubbed the nub and her orgasm flooded over like a rolling wave. She grabbed the duvet in her fists, balling the silky material as her body shook. Jonas became erratic as he chased his own release and a second later he gave a guttural, hoarse cry as he jerked against her a couple of times and she felt his warmth flood her. Then he half collapsed upon her, his forehead landing between her shoulder blades as they each struggled to collect their breaths.

  Finally, after a few moments, he rolled off her and onto his side. She turned her head and caught his gaze, smiling wearily at him.

  “I think my parents just heard you,” she said. “Quick, you better hide in my closet.”

  He chuckled and ran a finger down her cheek. “You are so incredibly sexy.”

  Conscious of the wetness between her thighs, she reached over the bed and grabbed his shirt to place between her legs before turning to face him.

  “That’s my shirt,” he said.

  “You tore my panties.”

  “So I did. We might have to treat the clothes a little better until we can go shopping.”

  “I love shopping,” she said.

  “Of course. Don’t all girls?”

  “Not Delia, unless it’s to the city morgue. Do you know the LA Coroner’s Office has a gift shop?”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “It’s called Skeletons in the Closet. I mean, who the hell wants to buy a toe tag with their name on it?”

  He chuckled. “Delia?”

  She shuddered. “That woman is unnatural. I’d say she was adopted but that argument doesn’t really work with the Perth family.”

  His eyes were beautiful, lit up with amusement. She would never get tired of looking at him. Slowly his gaze turned from relaxation to curiosity and she knew that he was gearing up to ask her questions. And she had a sinking suspicion that she knew what, or rather who, the questions were going to be about.

  “He’s kissed you,” Jonas stated softly.

  “Jonas—”

  “And he touched you.”

  “I don’t like hearing you talk about my infidelity.”

  One brow quirked upward. “And how did you cheat on me?”

  She swallowed past the lump forming in her throat. “I…with Nash.”

  “How?”

  “You want me to tell you?”

  “I want you to tell me how you cheated. Let’s get this out in the open.”

  She sighed. “There wasn’t…intercourse. But there was…other involvement. Kissing. Petting.”

  Jonas stayed silent for a moment and she watched the conflicting emotions filter through his beautiful eyes. “Did I ever tell you about my three or four times great grandmother?”

  The question threw her for a moment. “Um, no.”

  “The story is legend to my family. Kind of a secret, though, so don’t post it on Wikipedia.”

  “Okay. Now I’m curious.”

  “Her name was Avilon Chambert and she fell in love with two men.”

  Charlotte blinked. That was not what she was expecting to hear.

  “The story goes she met two gamblers in San Francisco during the gold rush,” he continued. “She was a singer in their establishment and when the gambling club burned down, she went with them to the Pacific Northwest.”

  “What happened to her?”

  “She lived a wonderful life, married, had children. No one knows for sure which man she ended up marrying but sometime on the trail north their names changed to Braddock-Masters, including hers.”

  Charlotte gasped. “That’s fascinating, considering the time.”

  “Yep. It’s recorded that she was a
fearless pioneering woman. So I’m not surprised I fell in love with you, a woman who’s fearless and headstrong, and who happens to have feelings for another man.”

  She frowned at him. “You make it sound like I can’t control myself.”

  He sighed. “You couldn’t control yourself at the Here After club.”

  “Thanks for throwing that in my face.”

  “That’s not what I meant. I’m not making an accusation. I’m stating a fact. ”

  “Then what did you mean?”

  “I never thought I was the type of man who could be like my many times great grandfathers…be in a ménage relationship. I’m not gay. I don’t find McKnight the least bit attractive. But, I know you love him. You loved him before me.”

  She cupped his face. “This is the same conversation we’ve already had.”

  “I know. Just like I know Nash is always going to be there, if not in body at least in spirit. And as much as he annoys the hell out of me, I don’t consider the time you spent with him as cheating on me.”

  “So what’re you saying? We’re now going to live happily ever after?”

  “I don’t know. Even I need to make certain that I can handle this, handle seeing you with him.”

  “And how do you propose to do that?”

  He took a deep breath. “We need to be together, like this.”

  She frowned. “Together like this how?”

  “Don’t be obtuse, Charlotte.”

  “No, I want you to say it. If you want to live it you have to say it.”

  He glared at her. “You, me, and McKnight. In one bed.”

  “Ah. You want a threesome.”

  “A threesome implies that it’s a onetime venture and that’s not the case.”

  “It might be. If you can’t handle it.” She studied his face, seeing the brackets carved around his mouth. It was clear he did not want this, but his stubbornness made her ears burn with anger. “All right. If that’s really what you want, then that’s what you’ll get.”

  Suddenly, the front door opened and closed with a loud bang. Charlotte’s eyes widened.

  “Holy crap, someone’s home.” She sat up and scooted off the bed, throwing his shirt at him. “Hurry dress! What if it’s my parents?”