Psychic Storm: Ten Dangerously Sexy Tales of Psychic Witches, Vampires, Mediums, Empaths and Seers

by Deanna Chase

  He walks to me, placing a hand on my flushed cheek. Before I have a chance to process the fact that it’s not a good idea to let him touch me, his desires rush at me full force. Apparently, Jet would like nothing better than to tie me to the bed and let every one of them bring me over again and again.

  Jerking my head back, I break the contact. Unfortunately, not before the images have had a chance to invade my thoughts and sear into my brain for eternity. To have them pleasure me for hours doesn’t sound all bad when actually thinking about it. Four mouths to explore and worship my every curve. Four sets of hands to tease, rub, and entice my hot flesh. Four eager pricks fighting to fill every hole in my body at once.

  Is it hot in here? I shiver at the prospect while Jet’s eyes dance with excitement.

  “The thought intrigues you, does it not?”

  Time for a little polite diplomacy and get my ass out of here. “How could it not when you’re all so beautifully aroused?” I must be careful to not insult this proud, powerful man. “I thank you for the offer, which is a tempting one, believe me. But I’ve made a vow to Rafe. I will not break it.”

  “Ah, a lucky man, that one. Well, since you see we are all fine… ” He trails off, expecting me to pick up the blatant invite to leave. Can’t blame him. If I don’t want to join the party then I should leave.

  Staring again at all the excited cocks, my mind freezes for a moment.

  “Y-y-yeees!” I stutter like a fool.

  Where is my composure of a moment ago?

  “I’ll be getting back to the main building now.”

  Still not turning. Still fumbling for the door.

  I can’t pull my eyes from all of the straining, silky flesh… It should be illegal to look that tempting. Oh wait, I think in several states what they are doing may very well be illegal.

  Jet reaches behind me to open the door. “There you go. We’ll see you later.”

  My cheeks heat from embarrassment. I back up slowly, so I can still stare at them. Jet smiles broadly at the thoughts painted clearly on my red face while closing the door on me.

  His voice barks out, “Back to the whip! I want to see him bleed!”

  The sounds of boots thump a retreat from the door. I hear the whoosh of leather singing through the air followed by the crack of it landing on heated flesh.

  I turn, running before my hearing picks up the wet sucking noises I’m sure will be quick to follow. There’s an undeniable wetness in my long johns, making me glad I put them on. Wet and wiggling against a seam of thick jeans isn’t very comfortable.

  Steer the mind away… steer the mind away… deep breath in and out.

  It would be smarter to focus on the business angle and how to best use this new information. Jet’s such a private man, I’m not surprised he would rather play this out in his cabin than in the resort’s dungeon rooms. Then again, he may not know we have them. A fact I should note in his file and suggest a tour for their group tomorrow. Let him decide on his own if he’d like to give the rooms a whirl.

  I need to follow up with Bob as well to make sure Jet clouds his memories enough so tales of the evening don’t carry throughout our staff. I make sure any employee involved in the BDSM games either can’t recall all the details or keep their mouths shut about them. Respect and privacy go hand in hand with our prices and guests’ reputations are a high security issue.

  I return to the main building—my bumbling detective work is doing more harm than good. Opening the back door into our kitchen, I’m enveloped by the heat and smells of the room. I stiffen at the sounds that assail my ears. Is that Rafe and Jon laughing together?

  They are seated together at the table. The scents of caramelized onions, peppers, sautéed mushrooms, and perfectly cooked steak waft on the air. They lean together over the center of the table, clinking their beers while Rafe completes the sentence I walked in on.

  “… and then she starts to scribble it all down furiously in one of those damn little notebooks she’s always using!”

  Jon continues to laugh along with him as a slow light begins to dawn in my brain.

  These son-of-a-bitches are laughing at me! Me! I could blow up their heads with a single thought. I could make them writhe on the floor in pain. I could make them pee themselves.

  Or—I could use this to my advantage.

  It would be nice not to have them at each other’s throats all the time. If what they need is a moment to come together, complaining or laughing at me, then so be it.

  I may not be cut out to be a world-class detective any time soon, but that’s okay. I am secure enough that I don’t need to be good at everything all the time.

  How to proceed? Their heads whip around at the sound of the door closing. I continue their fragile moment of camaraderie.

  “You think that was funny?” I strip off my coat and approach the table. “Wait ‘til you hear what I saw in cabin two… ”

  By the time I’m done narrating what I’ve just been through, they both have tears coursing down their faces.

  “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to look at Bob the same way,” Jon says between guffaws.

  “Now, now. Don’t make me regret sharing. We’ve all seen worse in the rooms upstairs. It was so unexpected it made the moment funnier than the discovery.”

  “Yeah, but still… a leather hood? Damn, that must have been a sight!” Jon rises from his chair to carry his plate to the counter. “Thanks for the meal, Rafe. I needed it.”

  Judging from the time, he didn’t sleep the whole hour like I’d hoped.

  He stretches then leans against the sink. “I’m still a bit bushed. Maybe I’ll go to bed early tonight. See you both later.” He heads for the door then turns back. “Viv? How about we check out room six tomorrow morning, early?”

  “Fine. I’ll meet you here so we can venture up together. Let’s say around eight?” He nods his agreement and leaves. Through our entire exchange, Rafe remained silent.

  “I thought it best to stay quiet to allow the good vibes to last a bit longer. It’s a rare moment when I don’t feel like pummeling the guy.’’

  “Yes, I know. Imagine my surprise when I discovered what brought it about.” I give him a glare to remind him.

  “Um, about that… see, it started innocent enough, with both of us rehashing what has happened so far… and… uh…”

  I decide to save him from himself. “It’s okay, love. Really. I couldn’t care less. There was a moment there I almost crushed you both like bugs, but it was brief.” I smile to lessen the sting. “We’ve certainly had an odd day, haven’t we? Especially considering it’s not even nine o’clock.”

  Rafe looks at me closely. “You look better than you did earlier. How are you feeling?”

  “Still not myself. I need to bleed off some of this energy. I almost exposed myself tonight, and not in a good way.” I fill him in on my conversation with Drew. “I think I left it okay, but he’s a hard one to read.”

  “Oh, that’s not good. We’ll see him later tonight?”

  “Yes, we should.”

  “You haven’t touched him yet in the week he’s been here? How come?”

  “I was not at the front desk when he checked in,” I say a little sharply.

  “Relax, I’m not criticizing, just asking.”

  “The plane arrived earlier than expected, something about getting good tailwinds. Now, I’m thinking no advanced phone call from the shuttle driver might have been an elaborate scheme to avoid me.”

  Rafe stares at me, taking in my agitated state. “I know what will help.” Scooting his chair out, he pats his hard thighs in invitation. “Come on over here and climb aboard. No time like the present.”

  I know exactly what he intends—picking the thought from his mind—and he’s right. I leave my chair to straddle his lap. “I need to talk to you after this, and we don’t have a lot of time. This is not going to be a major undertaking, okay, babe?”

  He grins back at me. “Ah, only t
ime for a quick bite? Then let’s get to it.”

  Normally, I’d never be the one to push for a quickie. I love to draw out every blood exchange, letting the emotions and sensations consume us. But, this murder hangs over my head. I want to talk about the death, work out a plan on what to do… but time is getting away from me.

  Rafe senses the tension coiled under my skin. It permeates every fiber and feels like it’s pushing to get out. I feel the need to do—to be doing something—now, NOW!

  He runs his hands up and down my arms in an effort to soothe me. “Shush, my liebling, you must turn your mind off sometimes,” he says in a soft voice.

  The werewolf blood’s driving me hard and making my skin itchy again. So much for that yoga pose in the snow to achieve some calm.

  Rafe kisses me lightly while reaching for a small silver paring knife on the kitchen table. I feel a sharp nick on my neck a split second before his hot mouth latches on to the cut. The knife clatters back to the table.

  My attention snaps back at Rafe’s first deep pull from the slight wound. The feeding allows me to expel some of the excess power with the flow of my life force. Rafe moans against my flesh, the vibrations stirring my arousal higher. The excess energy courses into him through our joining, relieving my pressure. After one mouthful, his tongue laps in delicate strokes at the torn edges of skin.

  So much, liebling. I can see why you felt so high strung. Give more to me.

  In a moment, Rafe’s fingers reach between us as he pulls deeply on my neck. The pressure of his hand, palm in, on the seam of my jeans feels delicious. He slowly rubs the juncture between my legs. The action gives me something to focus on in the rush of sensation from him deepening his kiss.

  I didn’t know I needed a release so soon after my last one, but my body responds instantly. My hips thrust forward against his hand while I reach up to secure his head more firmly to my neck. The vampire ability to heal quickly closes the wound before we’ve both had enough.

  When Rafe bites down hard to re-open the cut, his next draw mixes with the delicious pain to send me streaking over the brink, moaning and thrusting like a wild woman.

  One more long, deep suck pulls a yell from me.

  Gasping when the shudders end, I lean into his embrace. The orgasm came so quickly, there was no time to register the full intensity of the release before it ended.

  Ah, quickies can be nice, especially when you don’t expect them.

  “You needed that, hon. The energy had to be bled off a little.”

  Barking out a ragged laugh, I sag forward onto his big, warm chest. “A little? You think?”

  He rubs my back slowly up and down, almost like trying to calm a runaway horse. Pretty accurate considering my actions from before.

  Nudging against my lower abdomen is the hardness of Rafe’s unspent pleasure. “You know I don’t like to leave you hanging, but there isn’t time for the thorough attention I’d like to bestow on certain parts of your anatomy.”

  He chuckles. “Never you fear, it’ll keep for later. Let’s have the talk you were so concerned about.”

  Chapter Eight

  I move back to my chair and fill in Rafe on all I’ve learned, and done, to our new arrivals. We never did get to cover it before our interlude in the basement and then Jon stopped by.

  “At least we can assume the new guests didn’t kill John Pierre, right?” Rafe asks. “They hadn’t even landed when he died.”

  “True. That leaves us Salvador’s big group, the employees, and the guests in the cabins to contend with.”

  “You don’t really think an employee murdered that guy, do you?”

  I shake my head and stare into the darkness outside the kitchen window. “Not really. But we can’t discount them too quickly, can we?”

  “You may feel like you need to leave no stone left unturned, but I trust the people working for us.”

  “Easy enough for you to say. You haven’t been hunted by humans off and on for several centuries.”

  Rafe lets out a small snort. “Give me a break already. Jon said he smelled a strange vampire on the property. That should rule out all the humans.”

  I sigh, frustrated with the situation. “Yeah, you’re right.”

  “Holy cow. Did you just admit I was right?”

  “Try not to choke on your surprise.” I smile and blow him a kiss. “Hey, what are your thoughts on the scenario with Olivia? Would you like to play a role in my jealousy plan or should I enlist Drew?”

  “I think it’s a good idea to bring Drew in. You know I don’t like to help out with the jealousy stuff unless there’s no other alternative. It’s not my cup of tea. This could be a good way to feel out what Drew knows—or thinks he knows—about you.”

  “Agreed. But Drew seems like he’s off. He needs a kick in the pants to get out of it. Why else would he have come here?”

  Rafe shrugs in answer.

  “Anyway, I plan to drive Antonio slowly crazy with his desire for Olivia, and Drew will be perfect for the job. Shall we focus on these two tonight and go after Liam and Francesca tomorrow during their tour of the third floor?”

  “Sounds good. And then what about the dead guy? Are you hoping the killer will magically appear while we’re seeing to the guests?”

  I uncharacteristically slouch in my chair. God, this is too much work. I really need a week off from this place. Rafe picks up files on the far side of the round tabletop. “I found these in our room. Why are they in here?”

  He’s holding the Natsuhara and Salvador files in his hand. “I thought I could review them to see if they revealed a clue about John Pierre.”

  “It’s getting odder by the moment that no one has come to the front desk looking for him. Makes me think only one or two people may have known he was here. And one of those is the killer.”

  “Ah, and therein lies the problem… which one or two people?”

  “Have you thought to call Cy yet?”

  “No, I haven’t. Good idea. I bet he could trace the name down for us with what we’ve got so far.”

  “Lord knows he owes you. Not many vampires would allow such a loose leash on a rich and powerful member of their flock.”

  I wrinkle my nose at the mere thought of a “leash” or having my own “flock” as he put it. “You know me. If they’re responsible I set them free. If they aren’t… well… ” Rafe knows the unspoken end to that statement: If they aren’t responsible, I hunt them down and kill them. “He’s doing fine on his own. I have no need to worry.”

  Cy Whitfield’s a contact from our time in New York forty-five years ago. I changed him when I found his crumpled body in an alley behind one of his nightclubs in Manhattan. Seems a young fledgling got out without supervision and drained the first person he came upon to within a pint of his life. Cy wouldn’t have been able to recover from such a loss unless the alley lay next to a hospital. Did I have four quarts of human blood and the ability to transfuse him right then? Uh…no. But I did have my blood.

  It was a split-second decision. If he had been unhappy with the choice when I turned him, I would have killed him a second and final time out of respect. I drained Cy as much as possible without risking an instant death. Slicing my wrist with a silver dagger, I bled into his mouth before his last heartbeat. He latched on after the first mouthful went down and the rest is history.

  After the initial shock and denial phase, followed by the learning curve to control the blood lust, Cy accepted his new afterlife wholeheartedly and was grateful I happened upon him in the alley. Doubtful he would have felt that way if he’d been married with a family, but c’est la vie. I’m glad things worked out. Rafe and I were surprised when three months later, Cy’s control proved strong enough I could set him free and not look back.

  I turn the prospect of calling him over in my mind, voicing my thoughts, “You are right though. He’d be a good person to call for intel.”

  “He’s never let you down when you called to research a prospective
client. Let’s not forget, he did help us when we jumped into the technological age.”

  “Yeees… ” I draw the sounds in the word out, torn on what to do. I prefer to have no other vampires close to me. It lessens the risk of who could reveal my secrets to the Tribunal of Ancients—which loosely translates into less people I’d have to hunt down and destroy.

  “Take advantage of the fact he feels he owes you for his afterlife and freedom. Most masters would have kept a gem like him under their thumb.”

  “You’ve made your point, I’ll call.”

  Rafe settles back with a small smile of victory on his face. A check of the time reveals it’s almost nine. It would be a great time to call Cy. He’s probably at the Zone Out club now. Grabbing the cordless handset off the counter, I dial his cell phone. Two rings later he picks up. Before he can get out a greeting, loud music assaults my ear.

  “Dria, give me a minute to get in the back room.”

  “ ‘Kay.” I hear him pushing his way through the crowd to get to his private office, while the voices of the patrons carry over the line.

  “Cy, over here man!”

  “Cy!”

  He ignores them. Knowing him, he’s probably gesturing to the phone at his ear while signaling he’ll be right back. The sound of a door closing cuts the worst of the noise to a muted thrum.

  “Well, hello gorgeous. What brings on this call?”

  That’s Cy for you, right to the heart of the matter. He knows I don’t call often and won’t waste my time beating around the bush.

  “Hey Cy, it’s been a while. How are you doing?” I’m honestly curious. I’d hate to have to track him down and kill him; he’s good people. “Cali keeping you in line?”

  Cali is Cy’s bonded mate. She’s a werewolf—a pretty uncommon match for an undead. Letting her walk around the club unescorted could cause a riot, especially with the trademark sexual werewolf-pheromones leaking out to a crowd. I’m never sure which of the pair attracts the throngs of humans and supernaturals to the club more—him or her.