What to Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection (WTRAFSOG Book 9)
Page 106
His movements were fluid, as if without thought, yet his expression was intense. His actions were filled with purpose, yet at the same time graceful. He seemed totally at ease cooking in the kitchen, and Jessie settled in for a show. She winked at Kathy, who was acting as sous-chef, holding her finger to her lips. Kathy smiled back at her.
Connor’s gray slacks-clad legs bounced to the music as he held a sauté pan, flipping peaches in it. The sleeves of his white jacket were rolled up, and she watched his tattooed forearms bunch as he poured a liquid into the pan before lighting it on fire. He continued tossing the fruit, while the blue flames burned down before pouring the mixture over a small cake. In almost the same movement, he dislodged a crepe from another pan, and slid it onto another plate before drizzling what looked like chocolate sauce over it. Plates in hand, he turned to set them on a pass-through window as he rang a bell zealously, still singing.
Jessie was mesmerized as she watched Connor work deftly. He created succulent dishes, and served them in the pass-through window, each one looking as delicious as the last. When he finally reached a stopping point, Jessie had been watching him for thirty minutes. He went to the sink to wash his hands, finally seeing her standing there.
“Hey! What are you doing here?” He came over to Jessie and put his hand on her hip, leaning over for a kiss.
“You told me to come by, remember?”
“Yeah, but I thought you would eat, or something. Not lurk back here with all of the drudgery.”
“I’ve enjoyed watching the drudgery, thank you very much.” She snaked her arms around his neck, not willing to let him go just yet. “Besides, I ate before I came over. I’m ready for dessert.” She watched his pupils dilate with desire, before kissing him one more time, sucking his bottom lip between her teeth, before letting him loose.
He uttered a low growl from the back of his throat, and reluctantly let her go. “Well, I think I have one more dessert to make, and then we can leave Kathy to clean up and we’ll go out to the carriage house. Okay?”
Kathy had apparently overheard this last exchange. “Sure! Leave Kathy to clean up the mess, while you guys go get it on. I see how it is…” She grumbled.
Connor smirked at Kathy, while Jessie unobtrusively crossed her legs. She was squeezing them together to ease some pressure. Watching Connor in the kitchen was causing all sorts of reactions in her body. Who knew a man in the kitchen was so sexy?
Connor was singing along with a new pop song on the top forty radio station, this one a Brittany Spears song. Jessie giggled into the back of her hand.
Connor quirked an eyebrow at her. “What?”
“Just, the music you listen too. It’s surprising.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. You’re this big manly tattooed man, listening to awful pop music. Not just listening to it, you know every word! It’s hilarious.”
“I’m glad you think it’s funny I’m in touch with my teeny-bopper side.”
From across the room, she stared him down. “I like your teeny-bopper side.”
Not taking his eyes from hers, he slid whatever was in the saucepan onto a plate, drizzled something over the top of it, and stuck it in the pass-through.
“There are more sides to me that I don’t think you’ve seen.”
A retching sound reminded them of Kathy’s presence. Jessie giggled again.
Connor held his hand to her. “Let’s go.”
Jessie followed him eagerly to the carriage house, anticipation coiling tightly in her gut. She had been looking forward to this moment all day long. She had a hard time working with Alyssa while she’d been imagining what she and Connor would get up to tonight. She shivered in delight at the thought.
Connor could not believe this was finally going to happen. As he led Jessie across the parking lot to the carriage house, his pulse pounded in his veins, his cock throbbed mightily, and he said a little prayer he would be able to last longer than thirty seconds.
He was well aware Jessie had much more experience than him of late, but he was determined to set himself apart from the others in her eyes.
After making sure Luke was not home, as his brother had promised, Connor eagerly pushed Jessie against the door, cupping her face in his hands. He intended to swallow her in a crushing kiss, but was surprised when she took the initiative, grabbing his ass and pulling him close. Her mouth searched for his, and he enthusiastically complied, their mouths joining in searching heat. As tongues entwined, fighting for dominance, Jessie’s scent overwhelmed him. The sweetness was familiar, irresistible, and caused his heart to pound even harder. He was aware of her ragged breathing, as her hands moved erratically, from his ass, to his shoulders, to his chest, to his hair. Her hands on his body were driving him insane with need.
Still kissing, their tongues were thrusting into each other’s mouths, mimicking the act they were leading up to. Jessie gasped, and the tiny sound almost made Connor come undone. He growled low in this throat, breaking the kiss.
“Bed’s upstairs.” He rasped.
“Lead on.” She directed.
He led her upstairs by the hand, and when they got to the bed, Connor gently pushed Jessie onto it.
“Hang on a minute.” As she watched, curiously, he went around the room, lighting candles, which he had already scattered about. He turned to watch her watch him. “Is that okay?”
“Yeah,” she said, her voice low with desire. “Now get back over here.”
Connor walked to the bed, then crawled onto it, easing his body next to hers, kissing her gently.
“No more interruptions.” He whispered to her, his voice filled with anticipation.
“Thank God.” She jerked him to her, and pulled his jacket off, throwing it to the floor, before yanking off his tee shirt. Her need was so intense, she was beyond being gentle, or seductive. She eyed his chest, as she ran her hands over the smooth planes and valleys of muscle, twisting her fingers in the smattering of golden hair. Connor’s breath hitched at the feel of her warm fingers that sent arcs of electricity from their tips, but he wasn’t about to stop her. He could see her eager eyes, and he wanted her to get her fill.
As her fingertips moved around to exploring his back, Connor lowered his mouth to Jessie’s neck, to taste her sweet skin. With his mouth, he felt the hot pulse in her neck, as it pounded in time with his. He moved his mouth over to her shoulders, where the straps of her sundress were, leaving a trail of hot kisses in his wake. His hands pulled her dress up over her hips, rubbing up and down the outside of her thighs.
The feel of her skin under his fingertips was almost too much to bear. He wanted to feel her skin all over. He sat back on his feet, his thighs straddling her legs, and looked down at her, willing himself not to explode with desire.
“Jessie…You’re so beautiful…” She sat up, and he pulled her dress up over her head, before she leaned back onto the pillows. His eyes devoured her, while his hands ran over her body, down from her shoulders to her hips, reveling in the feel of her taut skin over her smooth muscles. He could feel her body shudder beneath his questing fingertips, and he felt a certain smugness that his touch could make her feel such desire.
The candle flames had grown bigger, making the room seem impossibly bright by candlelight, accentuating the shadows in the curves of her body. Goosebumps rose on skin, as the temperature in the room chilled against their feverish bodies, neither of them aware they were not alone.
Lowering his mouth to her breast, he listened to her gasp of pleasure, as he tasted her sweetness. He sucked gently, before he ran his tongue back and forth over the nipple, flicking it. Then he bit down gently, feeling her body arch under his. Her hands were in his hair, rubbing his scalp, pressing him to her breast, wanting more.
He didn’t notice the windows were starting to fog up.
He continued his attentions, while listening to her breaths become more ragged, feeling her press against him. He looked at her over the mound of breast in his
mouth, to see her eyes squeezed tightly shut, her mouth open, panting hot gasps. She moaned his name.
“Connor…”
“I want to hear you say it.” He needed to hear her say she wanted him.
She seemed to be having trouble speaking, though. Her eyes opened to look down at him, laving her nipple with his tongue. The desire glazed her eyes.
As he watched her, the desire in her eyes turned to shock, then horror, as she suddenly scrambled away from him, to a sitting position, her hands covering her breasts. A jagged cry tore from her throat.
“Fuck!” She reached for her discarded dress.
“What? Jessie, what?” Connor was at a loss.
“It’s her! She’s behind you.” Jessie’s dress was over her head in a split second, inside out, but Connor wasn’t about to tell her. He looked around, and didn’t see anything. He did finally notice the chill in the room, though, and goose bumps on his chest. Jessie leaped from the bed, and quickly scooted along the perimeter of the room, her back to the wall toward the door, eyes on something to his left, which he couldn’t see.
“Wait, Jessie!”
“Not now, Connor. I’ve got to get out of here.” When she reached the door, her steps were faster, until she practically leaped down the stairs and out the front door of the carriage house.
Going to the window, to watch Jessie’s abrupt departure, he noticed the word ‘MINE’ written in the fog on the glass.
Swiping a hand through the writing, angrily he turned to the room. “What’s yours?” His hands clenched into fists at his sides. “What? What do you want from me?” He hurled curses at the empty room, then stalked out the door to go downstairs.
Outside, he saw Jessie was gone.
Connor strode across the parking lot, bare feet pounding into the rough cement. The pain on his feet was a wake-up call.
The ghost was Louise, the girl who had written the diary, of that he was sure. She had had a terrible life, and he pitied her for that. But she was dead, for Christ’s sake, why did she hang around this house, which brought her so much misery? How was he supposed to get rid of her? He had to get rid of the ghost, because she was messing up things with Jessie. And he had never wanted any woman as bad as he wanted Jessie.
He continued pacing the parking lot, not wanting to go back inside the carriage house, not wanting to go into the big house. He didn’t want any reminders of his spectral houseguest who was ruining his relationship with Jessie.
When his feet were sore, he warily decided to return to his room. He cautiously opened the door and peered inside. Calling out tentatively, “I’m coming back inside, and I want you gone.” He felt stupid, but he didn’t know how else to go to bed. Maybe she would at least leave him alone, so he could sleep. If it was possible.
There was nowhere else to go. This was his house. He had absolutely no liquid funds for a motel room, which was his first inclination. But he wasn’t going to be run out of his own house.
He called out again. “I want you to leave, Louise. I need you to go now. This is my house. It’s not yours anymore. Please leave.” There was no response, not that he was expecting one. Sighing heavily, he climbed the stairs, repeating his entreaty for the ghost to leave him alone.
In the loft, he still didn’t see any sign of her. The temperature seemed normal, the fog was gone from the windows. He threw himself on the bed, and didn’t sleep a wink the entire night, dreading more signs of Louise.
Chapter Twelve
Jessie had not slept at all, either. The next morning, when she got up to milk the goats, her eyes were gritty and blood-shot from lack of sleep, and her arms and legs were lead. Her muscles seemed gelatin, and everything was more difficult than necessary. Out in the barn, her fingers wouldn’t work to clip the lead on Anna Marie, and she dropped the bucket on the way to the stanchion.
When she finally settled herself behind the goat on the stanchion, her fingers started working, and her mind traveled to last night.
That woman had been pissed. It was the same one from the glimpse in the mirror, the flapper-like girl with the spit curls. She would have been attractive, if it weren’t for the expression of murderous hatred on her face. Her eyes had been narrowed in malevolence, and her lips curled up into a cruel sneer. Her hands were claw-like, as if she were fixing to attack. She’d been standing next to the bed, just beyond Connor.
And she scared the hell out of Jessie.
“Jesus, woman. What time do you get up in the morning?” Connor was standing in the doorway, a goofy grin on his face. He had shadows under his eyes, leading Jessie to believe he hadn’t slept much the night before, either.
“How many times do I have to tell you not to sneak up on me?” Jessie was irritable this morning.
He looked chagrined. “I’m sorry. I whistled when I walked up, but I guess you didn’t hear me.”
Slightly mollified, Jessie snorted. “I’m not sure I could hear anything over the music here.” She continued her work, aware he was watching her raptly.
Jessie felt his intense gaze like a warm caress over her body. It sent a prickle of heat across her. She finished up with Anna Marie, and went to turn her into the pasture, and grab the next goat, Sugar.
Connor watched her lead Sugar up to the stanchion, and start milking.
“So this is an every day thing? No breaks?”
“Yeah. No breaks. I try to rotate who’s nursing when, so one goat doesn’t lactate year round, but I need to sell cheese year round. So when the next batch of girls have their babies, I’ll milk them and let these ladies rest.”
“How many goats do you have?”
“I’ve got thirty five mature females, two bucks, and about twenty babies, twelve of which are males.”
“What do you do with them?”
“I’ll butcher a couple to sell for meat. I’ve got a buyer who likes males for a lawnmower, and I was thinking of castrating a couple, just to keep around the herd.”
Connor shifted uncomfortably. “Nice…”
“Yeah, I get that reaction a lot.” She laughed. “In fact, if you have any good cabrito recipes, I can do the butchering next week before the Open House.”
“That would be great. I have a great cabrito recipe, as a matter of fact.” His intense stare was boring into her, an undercurrent to his words. “What kind of goats do you raise?”
“These are mostly a Nigerian Dwarf bred with Alpine. They produce the most milk, although the meat isn’t as tender as the strictly meat goats. But they’re smaller, and easier for me to handle on my own.” She finished with Sugar, patting her on the rump, and went to get Lucy. “Although as tame as they are, any breed would probably work. Except the bucks. They don’t get raised here, and I don’t handle them as much. They’ll come to a feed bucket, but that’s about it. These guys will climb into your lap, when they want attention.” She scratched Lucy behind the ears, earning a gentle nudge of affection in return.
Connor watched Jessie as she worked, asking questions, which she readily answered. Jessie loved talking about her goats, and felt an inward surge of pleasure at his interest. He seemed genuinely curious. She was surprised when she had finished with the last goat. Not only was he still there, talking to her, but the two hours had flown by.
As they walked back to her house, Connor took her hand in his, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles.
“I wanted to talk about last night.” He said to her.
She stopped walking, and looked up at him. “I’m not coming back to your place. I’m sorry if you don’t believe me, but that woman was there, and she was really pissed at me.” Jessie shuddered at the memory.
“I believe you. She’s been there, but I have no idea what she wants.”
“Who is she?”
“Louise Cargill”
Jessie gaped at him. “You actually know?”
“Yeah, Luke found a diary in the wall of the carriage house. I read it.”
Goosebumps popped up on Jessie’s arms, despite the
rising heat of the day. “Come inside and tell me about it.” Part of her was feeling guilty she had dismissed Summer’s perceptions so matter-of-factly. But the other part wanted to know more, horrified at the fact the woman was real, and not a figment of her imagination. She had been a real woman, with a real life, and Jessie was curious about the malevolence emanating from her spectral being.
Connor had seen her reaction in the expressions that flitted across her face, and he understood them completely. He too, had wondered if all of this had been his imagination, until Luke found the diary. He followed her into the kitchen, accepting a cup of coffee, and sat at the table.
“I’m going to go see a priest today, about an exorcism.” He expelled the words with a whooshing breath, realizing how stupid it sounded. “I don’t have any idea if that is something they even still do or not. Of if it’s just a Hollywood thing…”
“My friend Summer knows people.” Jessie said quietly.
“That can get rid of ghosts?” Connor could admit he was relieved. If he started going around town, asking about exorcisms, he would certainly feed the rumor-mill.
Jessie nodded. “Her girlfriend is a paranormal investigator, she knows how to make them go…away.” She shrugged. “I’ve never really paid attention. It all seemed so…over the top, before. You know?” She looked at Connor, questioningly. “But now, it’s all so real.” She poured herself a cup of coffee, and sat at the table next to him. “Tell me about her.”
“Louise?”
She nodded.
Connor took a deep breath. This wasn’t a pretty story with a happy ending. “Well, the diary is from the nineteen twenties, starts when Louise is twenty three, living with her parents. She didn’t use the words, exactly, but I think her father sexually abused her. It didn’t start out that way, but that’s what it accelerated to.”
He ran a hand through his hair, and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. “Her father was mentally unstable, paranoid, delusional. She lived a hellish existence in this house. Louise took a lover, in the carriage house. The met in secret up in the loft. Her father found out, and the lover disappeared.” Connor paused.