by Lexi Post
“Come for me, Kat. I want to feel you break apart in my arms.”
The friction increased and the shocks of pleasure reached her core like hard rain, faster and faster, blending into one another, building upon each other, closer and closer.
Braeden’s hand kept the pace steady as her body climbed toward fulfillment and a constant pleasure. Suddenly, his hips pulled back and he speared his shaft deep inside her.
She splintered into a thousand pieces around him. His finger pressed her nub down as his hand pinned her pelvis against him while he rocked into her, sustaining her pleasure, holding her at her peak. Then he thrust deep and held her still while his seed filled her, sending her flying higher. Every nerve ending vibrated with satisfaction.
They lay connected, spent, each trying to catch their breath. That he’d been as lost as she made her feel a bit better.
“Damn, woman, you make me lose control.”
She grinned, having already surmised that. “I know.”
“Don’t be flip with me. All I have to do is move my hand.”
She stilled, but her heartbeat sped up at the thought of what he might do, her nub throbbing beneath his fingers.
“I’ll take your silence to mean you’ll behave.”
Despite his threat to pleasure her again, which she was more than willing to test, she had to respond. “If I behaved, you wouldn’t be here right now.”
“Vixen.” His mouth on her neck surprised her, but even as he sucked, causing her limbs to melt, a tension built inside. His hand moved up her body, latched on to her breast where it pinched her nipple. The pleasure-pain of his fingers and mouth had her moaning her surrender. Without warning, his hand and mouth released her. Before she could voice her disappointment, he rolled her onto her stomach, his body on top of her, his hardening cock still inside.
He brushed aside her braid and licked the back of her neck. Pinned as she was by his weight, she was helpless to do anything. He pushed her legs farther apart with his before he sucked hard where the back of her neck met her shoulder. She’d never felt anything like it. Her pussy tightened around him as her helplessness increased, spiking her pleasure.
He leaned on one arm while his other hand burrowed beneath her body, grabbing hold of her breast and squeezing.
“Oh Lord.” Her juices flowed, bathing the hard cock deep within her, but she couldn’t move.
Braeden’s hips pushed against her ass and his cock slid farther inside. The heat where they joined flared. In her position, she couldn’t tense, couldn’t push, couldn’t do anything but lie there and be taken.
And Braeden took her. His mouth moved to the other side of her neck to suck hard again. He kept himself on his forearms while both thumbs brushed over her nipples even as his hands squeezed and let go. His hips pulled away and she couldn’t help a whimper, but he thrust back in, filling her and teasing her need, giving her sparks of excitement while she could do nothing in response.
He licked the base of her neck and as he started to suck, he ground his hips, pushing them deeper into the mattress, rubbing her nub against the sheets. Her need climbed, her pussy sucked at him.
Braden pulled back before sending his cock deep, shooting pleasure through every nerve ending. He groaned as he squeezed her breasts and pumped into her again. Holding her tight as his hips and hands pumped again and again, he increased his rhythm and her orgasm strained to be released.
Though her helplessness was frustrating, it brought a new sexual tension, but she couldn’t maintain such a level of stimulation and not come. It wasn’t possible. Or was that the point? Instead of reaching for release, she relaxed, allowing the sensations to come as they would.
Braeden sensed her capitulation and growled. His thumbs and forefingers found her nipples and squeezed, and she let the pleasure flow through her. He began to thrust in earnest, pushing against her butt with his abdomen, shifting them across the bed sheet…and she reveled in every erotic feeling. The prolonged sexual pinnacle held her enthralled until he slammed one final time and she shook with her release.
Floating on pleasure, she hung there as Braden, grasping her across the chest tightly, filled her. She felt his shudder even as her body cooled, satisfied in a way she never dreamed possible.
His hold loosened and he turned her head so he could kiss her. It was a sweet kiss, the perfect ending to a fulfilling experience. He pulled out and rolled onto his back, snuggling her against him.
She nestled into him, her head on his shoulder as his hand cupped her hip. His strength surrounded her, protected her. She wanted to analyze what had happened and why she felt so complete, but her body wanted to sleep and she easily gave in.
Chapter Nine
Braeden enjoyed having Kat on his arm again. It just felt right to be escorting his woman through Sleep Hollow.
My woman. He liked the sound of that.
“Max and his grandmother live about a half mile farther along this road.” Kat brought them to a halt.
“And I need to go to the church to find my head.”
She smiled at him, her blue eyes sparkling with deviltry. “I know precisely where your head is.” She lowered her lashes and looked down at his pants.
He laughed. “It appears you have a one-track mind. I like that.”
“I thought you would.” She wrapped her arms around his waist. “You need to bend down if you’re going to kiss me goodbye.”
“I think we are going to need to buy you stilts.”
She squeezed his ass, hard.
“Ow. Okay, okay.” Lowering his head, he brushed his lips against hers, intending to simply say goodbye as she suggested. But once he felt her unique softness, he needed more. He opened his mouth in invitation and she accepted, sweeping her tongue inside. He tightened his arms around her, tilting her head with one hand to better taste her.
“Ahem.”
Braeden opened his eyes to find a short old woman in black staring at them. He raised his brow and ended the kiss.
Kat opened her eyes. “Why did you stop?”
“We have company.” He nodded toward the stranger.
Kat whipped around and a becoming blush rose into her cheeks. “Dame Vandend. What are you doing so close to the festival?”
The older woman harrumphed. “We need bread and with Max unable to walk, it appears I have to buy it myself.”
“That makes sense. I’m sure Hans will be happy to see you.”
The woman ignored Kat and peered at him. “Who are you? You are not Brom.”
He stepped to the side and bowed. “I am Braeden Van Brunt, at your service, ma’am.” Kat’s elbow into his side had him stifling another sound altogether. Obviously, he’d said something wrong.
The old woman’s brows furrowed. “A Van Brunt descendant.” Her gaze shifted to Kat. “He’s the one, yah?”
“Yes, he is and he was just on his way to the church, and I was on my way to your house to see how Max is doing.”
The old woman’s face softened at the mention of her grandson. “He will be glad to see you. He’s got no one but me for company during festival.”
“Then I better get going. You too, Braeden. Don’t forget I need you to stack the split wood and move that block for me.”
It was clear Kat was in a hurry to part ways with Mrs. Vandend, so he took the hint, but he would question her later. “Nice to meet you, Dame Vandend.”
The old woman waved her hand in dismissal before trudging by them. Kat squeezed his hand before she too strode off, only in the opposite direction. Braeden stood and watched the sway of her hips and the swing of her braid for a time. He really liked her.
He turned to head down the path into the forest but paused when he found Dame Vandend had stopped to stare at him. Perplexed by her sudden interest, he nodded once in acknowledgment. She didn’t respond, so he continued on his way to search for his lost head.
It wasn’t far to the church, but it seemed so without Kat by his side to make everything fun.
That’s what she did. She brought fun into his life. Something he’d denied himself after Reed was hurt. His whole carefree, unattached life had changed that day. Gone were the one-night stands, replaced by college courses. Trips to bars were replaced by trips to the hospital and then the rehabilitation center. Money that had been spent on concerts and trips went into paying off student loans and making investments. He hadn’t deserved to have fun.
So why did he think he deserved it now? Because Reed would have his own place? Maybe even land a job? Because Reed was moving on so he should too?
What the hell was he even doing in Sleepy Hollow around so many people where he could hurt someone else? What if something happened to Kat?
That thought halted his steps. A chill permeated his body and then moved on and disappeared. The dark overhanging branches of the narrow path felt like a metaphor for his life. Dark, colorless, alone. But Kat was his sun now. He wanted his life to revolve around her. With her, he didn’t have to think about holding back every touch.
He was only here for the weekend, or longer if she let him stay. He could prove to her there was no time difference. Then they could see each other more, learn more about each other. He’d learned a lot about his own strength over the last decade. Maybe, just maybe it was safe to have a life again, only now with Kat in it. The question was, would she be interested?
The exciting possibility had him striding toward the clearing ahead, which at this time of day was in full sunlight. It should be easy to find his pumpkin now.
But twenty minutes later, though he’d found Daredevil’s tracks, he couldn’t find a big orange pumpkin anywhere. Granted there were many orange and brown leaves on the ground, but a big orange ball would stand out. He must be missing it.
Tracing Daredevil’s tracks back to where he reared, Braeden made the motion of dropping the pumpkin and then searched the leaves a foot at a time. As he brushed back a pile of them, he felt something small and hard. Rummaging through the light leaves, he grasped the object.
A double-A battery. He had to be close. Kneeling, he sifted through the immediate area. He found the second battery that provided power for lighting the pumpkin, but no pumpkin. Finally, he stood and studied the ground.
The pumpkin was gone. It was too big for a squirrel, but a black bear could have easily carried it off. Strolling back to the horse tracks on the path, Braeden studied the ground. There were other tracks there as well. Shoe prints from what looked like a woman’s shoe. He followed them until they reached the steps of the little church.
Slowly, he pushed the door open.
A woman swept the area at the front. Her back was to him but he could hear her humming. It certainly wasn’t a hymn from the jaunty sound of it. It was more like something a person would hum after having the kind of sex he and Kat had. The kind that made a person feel as if it were going to be a great day.
Her sweeping brought her around the stairs of the raised pulpit, so he strode up the aisle, a row of pews on each side. “Hello.”
“Ack!” The woman brought her hand to her chest and lost all color in her face. He stepped toward her and she sidled behind the stairs. “Evils spirits spare me.”
Braeden stopped and put his hand out, the reason for her fear finally coming together in his mind. “I’m not Brom. I’m Braeden Van Brunt, the current Headless Horseman. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Oh my. I’m sorry.” She moved her hand from her chest and brushed back the dark strands that peeked from beneath her cap. “I had heard you were here, but I didn’t realize how similar in looks and build you were to Brom.”
She walked out from behind the altar and gave him a curtsey, the scent of roses preceding her. “I’m Nora Addens. I was just sweeping up after the service.”
“I see.” He watched as she fidgeted with her skirts. It was a telltale sign someone hid something or was nervous and he would guess both. “I didn’t realize this church had services during the festival.”
She leaned the broom handle against the wall. “Oh yes, but they are very early. People have to get back to the square before the crowds return.”
He nodded to show he understood. “I was wondering if you might have seen a pumpkin by the path when you came to church.”
“Oh, I didn’t make it—uh, no, I didn’t see anything, but Mein Gelen, he has a number of pumpkins for sale. All sizes.”
He smiled politely. “Thank you. I will keep that in mind. Have you seen anyone else out here?”
Now he was certain she hid something because her cheeks took on a rosy hue. “No, I came after the service and there was no one here.”
So another person had “slept” in this morning. He grinned. “Thank you for your help. I need to get back, then.”
She nodded without looking at him, but didn’t say another word.
He let himself out of the church and strode toward the cemetery. People had commented he looked like Brom one too many times. It was time to learn more about this supposed ancestor of his. Of course, if what Katrina and Ludo believed was true then that would explain why people in the village mistook him for Brom. He halted. But for that to be the case then that meant there really was a time twist, as Ludo called it. He shook his head and continued to the gravestones. There had to be another explanation. Maybe Brom was a distant relative from another branch of the family.
Finding the tombstone of the Van Brunt ancestor he’d seen with Kat was easy. There were quite a few others nearby, but none with the name Brom Van Brunt, Abraham Van Brunt or even Brom Bones. He leaned against the largest headstone and ran his hand through his hair. He had hoped he’d find the man’s grave because with a date of birth he could do an online search to see exactly how they were related, but it looked as if he was denied even that. All he had was a lot of questions. He dug into his pocket and pulled out the batteries. A lot of questions, two batteries and two missing pumpkin heads.
* * * * *
Kat sat across from Max, his foot on a bench as he reclined in a tattered, stuffed chair. She hadn’t been to his house in a long time and had forgotten how run-down it was, or perhaps it had become more so.
“So you didn’t bring me a waffle?” Max’s pout was that of a young man who had long been spoiled by his grandmother despite the status of their finances.
“No, I didn’t. Ria had a large crowd of Newtimers, and I wasn’t going to wait in line. Besides, my guess is the more you miss my cooking, the sooner you’ll be able to return to work.”
He grinned. “You’re probably right about that.”
“After you left, I went outside to retrieve the bucket and it was gone.”
“Gone? But I just tripped over it. It was still there when I hobbled into the house.”
She leaned forward. “Are you sure you didn’t kick it or anything?”
“I’m sure. Maybe one of the children picked it up, or even a Newtimer who wanted a memento.”
“Maybe. I hadn’t thought of that and there have been more people wandering behind the inn.”
“That’s because of your beau.” Max winked.
“Maxwell Vandend, Braeden is not my beau. He is a friend, not that it is any of your concern.”
Max shook his head. “Not according to Liesbeth. She told me Janna and Ria said he likes you and you him. She said even Nora isn’t going to try to marry off one of her girls to him, and you know Nora will do anything to find those girls a husband.” He shivered.
“You would make a good husband.”
Max turned bright red. “Nah, I’m too young.” He looked away.
He wasn’t too young. Her own mother and father had been married two years by the time her papa was Max’s age. She had hoped he would have mentioned Liesbeth as a reason not to marry Nora’s girls, but by not doing so, he told her a lot. He really didn’t know the poor woman existed. Maybe she could help him notice her.
“Has anyone come to visit you today?”
He thought for a moment. “No, not today.”
/> “Are you bored? I could bring over a few books I have.” She did feel guilty for leaving the bucket in the yard.
“Not at all.” Max reached into the space between the bottom cushion and the wing of the chair. “I’ve been reading books on here.” In his hand was the flat machine Stephen had given him.
“You still have that? Why didn’t you give it back to Stephen before he left yesterday?”
Max cocked his head. “Because he gave it to me. Why would I give it back?”
“Because it’s from Newtime. We aren’t supposed to bring Newtime objects into Oldtime.”
“Why?”
Kat stood and paced to the end of the small parlor. “Because it’s important we keep Oldtime pure, separate from Newtime.”
“So you want to be separate from Braeden?”
“What?”
Max crossed his arms over his chest. “Braeden is from Newtime. You don’t want him in Oldtime?”
She stalked toward him. “Braeden is not an object, he is a person.”
“I know.” Max’s bravado deflated. “But I don’t see why we have to keep living on the outside. People from Newtime get to buy our goods and bring them home, so why can’t we do the same? Objects don’t disappear when the time splits. They stay with the owner. I understand we can’t live in Newtime, but why not adopt some of the advances that have been invented to make life a little easier? You, my grandmother, even Jurgen are constantly harping on keeping Oldtime pure. Why?”
“Why?” Kat stared at Max, knowing how it felt to be his age, on the verge of life as a true adult. She had been in love, planned a wedding and life with Brom, but he had moved on after they were separated, never knowing he could have come back. He didn’t waste his life on the past. He threw himself into Newtime, of that she was sure. And she had been waiting. Was that what she was doing? Still waiting? Was she adamant about keeping Sleepy Hollow exactly like it was the day Brom disappeared so he could return when he no longer existed? Did she want to keep Sleepy Hollow as it was so she could keep her memories of him alive since that was all she had?