Marshall's Law

by Denise A. Agnew

  Big mistake.

  Instead of loosening his tenacious clasp, he slid his right arm around her as well, bringing her flush against his rock hard chest, stomach and hips. Dana almost mewled in a combination of protest and sweet agony. Her breasts tingled, the nipples hardening. Oh, crap. He’ll see through my shirt and know that he’s turned me into a bowl of quivering gelatin.

  “Stop wiggling or you’ll regret it,” he whispered. “Quiet.”

  “But—”

  “Put a sock in it.”

  Blood filled her face, but not from embarrassment. “What a rude, nasty—”

  “I’m giving you one more chance to be quiet, Dana,” he said into her ear.

  Sure, she could stomp on his toes and maybe break his hold. Maybe. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been wrapped in such strength. Perhaps if the sensation of being cradled in his arms had repulsed her she’d have tried harder to free herself. Instead she relaxed a little and enjoyed the guilty pleasure of feeling protected and wanted.

  The next thing she heard blew her mind. Mad squeaking. Bed springs protested as the ghost lovers accelerated the rate of passion. Dana blushed again like a schoolgirl at her first prom and subsided back against Marshall.

  “Well, I’ll be a son of a bitch,” Marshall said.

  “You won’t get any argument from me there.”

  The gasping and moaning from the bed reached apocalyptic proportions.

  As much as she loved his arms around her, she knew they’d discover nothing standing there like two dead weeds. “Marshall, I’ve got to turn on the recorder and we’ve got to investigate.”

  “Yeah,” he said again, this time husky and low. To her surprise he released her.

  She didn’t know whether to be disappointed or relieved. He started toward the bed, and she followed on his heels. Dana almost passed him in her frantic charge to the tape recorder. She grabbed the microcassette device and flipped the record switch. Excellent. She’d capture at least the grand finale. From the non-stop rattling, the screech of protesting bedsprings and the ecstasy filled sounds coming from the ghost participants, the end had to be near.

  She dared to speak. “It sounds like the ghosties are about to go thermonuclear.”

  Marshall stood by the bed, hands on hips and gaze trained on the bed. The bed sounded as if might collapse under the strain, but to Dana’s surprise the heart-shaped monstrosity didn’t make a twitch.

  “This doesn’t make any sense,” she said, sidling up next to him. “Any live beings making that much racket would have caused the bed to practically walk by itself.”

  Instead of scowling and telling her to shut up, his eyes sparkled with amusement. A hearty chuckle issued from his chest.

  He knelt down and looked under the bed. “No bogie man under there.”

  He touched the walls near the bed, then searched in various other places around the room while the happy ghosts humped as vigorously as ever.

  “Now I know it’s got to be a recording,” He mumbled as he continued to scan the room for a device. “Help me look.”

  Complying, she went into the small bathroom that had served as shelter during the tornado. She fumbled in the cabinet underneath the sink but found nothing but cleaning products, bath soap, and toilet paper. Her eyes widened when the female voice coming from the bed whimpered in frustration or bone-rattling delight. Dana couldn’t be certain.

  Giving up her quest, she returned to the bed. Marshall touched the coverlet as he had before.

  “Is it warm?” She asked.

  He nodded. “See for yourself.”

  She touched the middle of the bed, her fingers almost brushing his. “It’s hot. But there’s no vibration.”

  She looked up and caught his frustration as it spilled across his features. He sighed and straightened. Seconds later a fluting, feminine screech filled the night, startling them both.

  Maybe the pesky ghost had finally…

  A guttural, agonized moan echoed into the room. Dana couldn’t say if satisfaction or agony fueled the sound. “I can’t freaking believe this.” As the noises continued, Dana’s mind reeled with amazement. “When is this going to end?”

  “Gives new meaning to the saying, ‘can’t get no satisfaction’.”

  She laughed. “Brennan Marshall, I can’t believe you said that.”

  His gaze turned unforgiving, raking over her body in a predatory assessment. “You think I’m made of cold steel, don’t you? You think I can resist anything you say or do? You think I’ll never reach a breaking point?”

  “Yes.” She fumbled for the right words. “No.”

  His mouth curved a fraction, as if he couldn’t decide whether to be pleased or pissed. “Make up your mind.”

  Exasperation got the better of her. “Well, you don’t seem to believe the obvious.”

  “Which is?”

  “This is what we were talking about at your office the first day we met. My aunt has heard these ghosts on numerous occasions. She said it sounded like they couldn’t…um…as you said…complete the act. They are perpetually stuck.” Dana went on to tell him about the two lovers who had been killed by the girl’s father. “Maybe the couple didn’t get to finish making love before her father came in and shot them.”

  His mild grin changed from amused to amazed. Turning away from the bed, he pinned her with a look of pure disbelief. “You really think this porno movie soundtrack is honestly a couple of horny ghosts?”

  “What else could it be? We haven’t found any tape players or other devices that would prove deception.”

  Marshall shook his head and cocked his head like a confused animal. “You’re incredible, you know that?”

  Dana might have brushed off his comment if his voice hadn’t sounded silky soft and sinful. “You’re pretty extraordinary yourself, Marshall.”

  She couldn’t tear her gaze away, and once more he approached. “I think you meant that as an insult.”

  In self-defense she shrugged with nonchalance. It wouldn’t do to show him how his presence affected her. Despite her casual air, his relentless stalking didn’t slow down. She backed up a couple of steps and bumped into the bar.

  Before Dana could utter a protest or move out of his way, Marshall’s hands came down on either side of her on the bar, his arms a cage. “I think this is about where I left off in my office that day. And I’m tired of waiting.”

  “Waiting for what?” She gulped.

  “I said if you didn’t stay quiet there would be hell to pay.”

  She couldn’t resist it. The big, tough man in front of her thought he had her cowed. He thought she’d buckle under his knee-weakening gaze and intimidation. With a gentle poke she tapped her finger on his chest.

  “Back off Marshall. I’m not some young sweet thing that thinks your long hair and sexy… I mean, dark eyes are sexy beyond belief. I don’t know how many women this has worked on—”

  “I’ve never done this before.”

  “Trapped a woman between your arms—”

  “Before you. Before you came to this town life was pretty content and maybe even a little dull. You had to arrive and shake up the whole place.”

  She made a face. “I hardly think my presence is enough to shake up an entire town.”

  He was so close less than two inches separated them. He leaned forward even more, and she couldn’t avoid his tantalizing scent or the sheer power of his presence. Dana shivered in reaction as his warm breath touched her face. “I’ve never felt this way before. I’ve never listened to ghosts having sex and found myself so insane from the heat I can’t keep my hands off you. I can’t take it anymore, Dana.”

  It took more seconds than she liked for comprehension to dawn. Had he said the ghostly humping was turning him on? Did that explain why she felt boiling, restless, excited and about ready to scream? Or was she just annoyed into the next century?

  Her mouth felt dry and she licked her lips. Every muscle tightened in her body, fill
ed with longing. A need to be touched. Caressed. Taken in the most elemental way a man could take a woman.

  Marshall’s incredible mouth hovered near hers again. “I don’t have fifty dollars tonight. Will you take a rain check?”

  Overwhelmed by the industrial electricity jumping between them, she couldn’t speak.

  As it turned out, she didn’t have to.

  His mouth covered hers. Insistent. Startling. Astonishing.

  Before she could respond, his lips parted hers and explored. Moved back. Tasted. Retreated. Marshall gave her about ten seconds, as he gazed into her eyes, to do something besides feel her insides tremble and her senses go ballistic. When she didn’t stomp his foot, elbow him or knee him in the family jewels, he moved in with the heavy artillery.

  He kissed her again and again. Short tastes that touched her lower lip, then her upper lip, capturing her with sweetness. Heat rose within Dana as he sampled her, never quite plunging all the way, making each kiss long enough to torture but not striking the match. Marshall’s unmistakable ardor made her move in his arms, made her utter a soft moan.

  Her mind echoed what her lips wouldn’t say. Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.

  His next kiss didn’t ask, it made a statement. His tongue coaxed and caressed before plunging inside. A tiny noise of surprise emanated from her throat. Stunned, she absorbed the heady pleasure. Every molecule in her body seemed to rush together; her stomach tingled deep, and her breathing accelerated. The continual stroke of his tongue against hers made her senses swim and her head feel lighter than air.

  She’d spent far too many hours wondering what this man’s lips would feel like. That itty-bitty kiss he’d given her the other night hadn’t prepared her. Now that she knew, her mind turned to porridge and her limbs to noodles. Before her knees could collapse his arms slid around her and tucked her against his hot, solid body. His hand speared into her hair, cupping the back of her head as his kiss went supernova.

  He didn’t gentle her into the passion, he propelled her with a kiss that caressed, controlled and demanded. Yet even his command sought her favor and capitulation. Dana’s senses reeled as his mouth possessed with gentle sweeps, then probing insistence. The kiss went on and on, the moaning and gasping and sighs coming from the bed a strange ballet dance to accompany their real passion.

  Her arms went from being trapped against his chest to being wound around his neck. His hands caressed her back with greedy exploration—as if he wanted her so much he couldn’t decide where to start first. Part of her screamed with alarm that she’d surrendered and shouldn’t have. The other part didn’t care. She couldn’t deny that he wanted her. Hard and unmistakable, the evidence of his desire pressed against her, reminding Dana he was flesh and blood man, and of her own need steaming to the surface.

  Sweet languor echoed inside her as the warm, sweet taste of his mouth lulled her into a haze of desire. Dana’s fingers tested the length of his thick hair. He sampled her, small kisses that she answered. One. Two. Three. Four. He drew back, his soul deep gaze heating her with desire.

  She knew nothing…and everything. With a bone-melting, staggering kiss, he’d upset everything she’d believed about her ability to resist her feelings for him.

  “Marshall,” she whispered as his mouth hovered over hers again.

  “Yes?”

  “What are we doing?”

  One corner of his mouth turned up, his breath coming in deep exhalations. “Losing our ever loving minds.” Rough with need, his voice showed how much their embrace affected him. “You are driving me insane.”

  Another crazy moan erupted from the bed near them. Again, before she could unscramble her thoughts, Marshall kissed her, his arms tightening.

  Excitement strummed through Marshall’s body. Every brush of her lips, caress of her tongue, sweep of her hand blew him apart. Thoughts, other than how much he wanted her, left his system. His lips found a spot near her collarbone that made her gasp. She writhed as he concentrated on that spot for maddening seconds before he moved to sensitive territory under her ear. Shameless, mindless with building need, he shivered when she explored his biceps and shoulders. His hands cupped her rib cage, exploring the delicate structure, reverent with the knowledge that underneath her shirt lay soft skin.

  As Marshall feasted on her neck, he cupped her right breast in a tender hold. Dana gasped. Seconds blended into minutes where his mind took flight into dreams. Where was he taking her? How far was he taking her? He half expected her to object to the intimate touch.

  Take me. He wanted to hear her say it. Shriek it while he slipped deep inside her.

  He primed her with sweeps of his fingers along the underside of her breasts, never touching the nipples. He reached under her shirt and when she didn’t protest he searched for the clasp of her bra. When he found it he undid it with one movement.

  Oh. Oh, yeah.

  Her skin, softer than anything in his imagination, lit a new fire within him. He repeated his caresses, this time circling her nipples with his fingers until a tiny gasp wrenched from her. When his thumbs passed over the tight nubs, he drew back to look at her. Eyes closed, head tilted back, her kiss-swollen lips parted on another inhalation. A sound that told him she liked what he did and wanted more.

  “Dana,” he whispered, lowering his mouth for another kiss.

  He removed her shirt, then her bra. He palmed her shoulders and arms and back with continuous strokes, reaching down to cup her buttocks in both palms, drawing her tight against his arousal.

  His tender touches removed all her inhibitions. Nothing would stop her from having this man right here, right now. Dana ached low in her belly. Beyond retreat, she yanked at his shirt until her hands touched skin over solid muscles. When he let out a low sound that almost matched a groan, she slid her hands through the hair on his taut stomach, then up to his pectorals. Sweet heaven. Rough hair under her fingertips sent a sigh of satisfaction through her lips. The texture. The springy curls. Iron hard muscle.

  This is right.

  When he took her mouth in another soul searing kiss, she began to slip his shirt off his shoulders.

  A loud bang from upstairs broke them out of the kiss. The noises from the bed stopped.

  Marshall’s eyes went from dazed with passion to full alert. “What the—?”

  “It’s probably my aunt,” she whispered. She wanted to kiss him again and who cared about the torpedoes.

  She kept her grip around his neck, unwilling to move from the haven she’d found. Another loud clang, crash and bang sent them out of each other’s arms. Reality came rolling in and Dana realized that no matter who it was, she was half dressed and so was he.

  “Oh, my God,” she said, releasing him and whipping into action. She grabbed her bra and shirt from the floor and dressed.

  Marshall cursed and buttoned his shirt as he headed toward the door. Another thump came from above.

  “That doesn’t sound good,” Marshall said.

  “Maybe she’s had an accident.”

  Marshall grabbed her arm again. “Stay here.”

  “But—”

  He drew her against his side and stared down into her eyes with a fierce expression that made him warrior and lover all in one. “I want you safe, damn it. Now stay here while I check things out.”

  When someone had run her off the road she’d felt bone-deep terror. Now she wanted to fight alongside him if an intruder had invaded upstairs.

  “I’ll feel safer if I’m with you,” she said. “Besides, you might need my help.”

  Two emotions warred in his eyes. Concern and admiration. Respect flickered into heat as he lowered his head and gave her a quick, hard kiss. “We’ll finish this later. Stay behind me and if anything happens to me you get out of the house, you hear?”

  She nodded. “Got it.”

  Marshall’s heart hammered as they ascended the stairs.

  He pushed away the thoughts of passion slamming through his blood, knowing he’d pr
otect Dana with his life if it came down to it. He heard grumbling and mumbling before he saw the shape at the top of the stairs. He held his weapon at the ready, leveling it on the dark form.

  Though his throat felt tight, he ground out authoritative words. “Halt. Sheriff’s department.”

  Before he could tell Dana to flip on the light switch and illuminate the intruder, the figure swayed and fell straight toward them.

  Marshall uttered a curse and Dana echoed as the body took a header. Marshall didn’t have time to evade airborne arms and legs as the guy tumbled straight into him. The weapon in Marshall’s hand went flying.

  Dana grunted as he cannoned into her, unable to stop his momentum. Grunts, cries of pain and mingled expletives ushered from them as the body that had caused the fall rolled with them down the stairs. Marshall felt an elbow in his side, then something hard kneed him in the gut. Air rushed from him in a gasp, but when they hit bottom he sprang upward, worried about Dana. Before he could ask if she’d been hurt, she scrambled to her feet.

  Dana looked down at the same time Marshall did, and he saw the blood on her shirtfront and on his pants. Dana gasped as they looked at the remaining body on the floor. Gregory lay in a heap, his shirt covered in blood.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Marshall and Dana dropped to their knees next to Gregory’s sprawled figure.

  “Oh, no,” Dana whispered as Marshall checked Gregory’s condition. Dana jumped back to her feet. “I’ll call 911.”

  While Dana scrambled to get help, Marshall discovered to his relief that Gregory didn’t appear to have any broken bones. His satisfaction disappeared when he discovered the stab wound in the man’s left side and a deep gash on the back of his head. After calling for help, Dana retrieved the first aid kit in the small bathroom and they set to work trying to reduce the bleeding.

  “The stab wound doesn’t look too deep,” Marshall said, instructing Dana to apply pressure to the wound. He glanced at her, hoping she could take the sight of all that blood. His brow furrowed in concern when he realized how pale she looked. “Are you all right? You’re not hurt?”

  “No. You?”