by Mlyn Hurn
“Oh God!” he cried out suddenly. He felt Kerry’s body tightening and trying to hold him inside her heat. He moved one hand between their bodies, and using her wetness he began a soft exploration and arousal of her pleasure point.
* * * * *
Kerry wiggled eagerly in response to Broderick’s questing finger. She began squeezing and clenching her muscles more tightly around his manhood. Sensing she had only a moment or two—too late…Kerry’s body exploded in reaction. Conscious control was gone and she was at the mercy of her body’s climactic contractions.
* * * * *
Broderick didn’t pause because he had run out of endurance as well. The feeling of Kerry’s contractions was pushing him over the edge. His mind wanted to preserve the moment, the hot and powerful intensity of being inside Kerry’s body. It was different on so many levels than anything he’d experienced before. Quickly he thrust forward again, once more and the next moment he was climaxing as deeply as Kerry. He groaned loudly, and then cried out her name.
Over and over, one male and one female body contracted and reacted physically to the other. The same act since time began. Bringing two people as close as possible. Still, neither was completely ready to admit that this was anything more than mind-blowing physical lust—or at least, not yet.
Chapter Ten
Kerry didn’t want to leave the warm cocoon of sleep she was in. She pushed away the intruder and huddled closer into the warmth. Frowning, she realized the warmth was flesh, but not hers, and felt very masculine. Opening one eye, she looked up from her burrowed position. They had gotten under the covers, most likely thanks to him, not her.
“I want to stay here! It’s warm, cozy…”
“I know, Kerry. My stomach is demanding food, though.”
Kerry moved away slightly, looking up at Broderick’s handsome face on the pillow. He had the shadow of a beard starting and she couldn’t resist lifting her hand to caress the side of his face. Without really thinking, she started speaking.
“I like this…” she told him quietly, continuing to rub, or rather pet the beard growing on his cheek. “It’s a little soft if you rub one way, and a little rough when you go the other way.”
“Sounds like life, honey.”
Kerry smiled, nodding her head and continuing to rub. “And it is very, very sexy—the unshaven, tousled hair thing.”
“Possibly, but the ‘needs a tooth brushing’ mouth is not.”
Kerry sat up suddenly, covering her mouth. “Oh my God! I’m sorry.”
“I was referring to myself, Kerry, not you. I hadn’t gotten close enough to check you out. But I’ve got that feeling in my mouth—”
Kerry smiled, lowering her hand. “I know and I’ve got it also. How about one quick, closed-mouth kiss and then we each adjourn to our bathrooms and meet downstairs for food?”
Broderick nodded and leaned forward. He kissed her mouth with his closed, but even with that he had a sexy way of little kisses that would drive a woman crazy. When he finally released her mouth, Kerry eased out of her side of the bed. She looked back over her shoulder and saw that Broderick was grinning at her. Quickly, she realized that she was definitely sans trousers. Tugging at her shirt, she turned towards the covers, wondering where her shorts had ended up.
“I think the last place I saw them was flying over my shoulder,” Broderick offered helpfully. Kerry’s glare told him he wasn’t being that helpful. Rounding the bottom of the bed, she caught sight of her shorts, but no panties. Picking them up, she sat on the bench and pulled them on. Without another word, she walked into the bathroom. Turning the water on, she pushed the door until it was nearly closed.
Sitting on the toilet, Kerry started to pee. With her eyes closed, she began to comb through her tangled hair with her fingers. After a huge yawn, something made her look towards the door. Broderick was watching her, grinning. He quickly put his hands up protectively.
“I’m going…I promise. Meet me in the kitchen.”
Kerry dropped her face into her hands. Nothing about this whole encounter with Broderick could be classified as romantic. Bad breath, being watched when you aren’t exactly at your best, and of course, a ghost—she was beginning to wonder what else could possibly happen to make this trip anymore unusual! Good thing she didn’t use real life for a story because no one would believe this, let alone consider it erotic. A moment later, Kerry stripped her clothes off and climbed into the old-fashioned bathtub. Closing the shower curtain, she turned the water on and showered rapidly. The least she could do was to at least smell nice, besides improving her breath.
* * * * *
They had finished eating a short time earlier and moved to the Commons room to continue relaxing and enjoy their wine. Dinner had been put on the table and was waiting for her by the time she had come to the kitchen. True to his word, Broderick had brought home Chinese, putting it in the refrigerator, when Kerry hadn’t responded to his calling her name the third time. While they ate, they had agreed to delay any “ghost talk” until they finished dinner.
Broderick leaned forward and leisurely poured them each some more wine. After he passed Kerry her glass, he settled back into the comfortable sofa beside her. “I’m going to guess that you had a much more exciting day than I did, Kerry.”
Kerry coughed and sputtered at his comment. “I hadn’t thought of it like that, but I guess you’re right.” She quickly bent the leg closest to Broderick, and turned sideways so she could face him. “You probably aren’t going to like this, but you’ve got two ghosts, not one.”
“Oh, hell!” Broderick quickly took a gulp of wine.
“I’m sorry.” Kerry reached out and covered the hand resting on his nearest thigh. “I asked him if he was haunting you because of the bed and breakfast, but he didn’t know what I was talking about. In fact, old Broderick seems to be as surprised as we are.”
Broderick smiled, ruefully shaking his head. “What does he want? As much as I might wish it weren’t so, I am assuming that you talked to him.”
Kerry nodded her head, unable to stop the smile, which curved her mouth upward. Poor Broderick, she thought. Somehow she felt it was easier for her to accept the whole “ghost concept” since she’d been writing about paranormal occurrences and the like in her books. “Now, don’t go getting an attitude. He’s confused also, but he mentioned Jenny. I think that is the spirit I felt in my room yesterday and today. She is the answer to all of this, I think.”
Broderick set his wine glass down, and then took Kerry’s from her hand. “Let’s go get new batteries for the flashlights and check this out. I think I should face this with as clear a head as possible.”
Kerry anxiously started for the kitchen with Broderick close behind, when the phone rang suddenly, coming from his office at the rear of the house.
“Damn!” Broderick cursed under his breath. “I need to take this call, Kerry, if it’s who I think it is. Go on up, since I know you are dying to get started, but wait for me. That hallway and staircase could be treacherous. Who knows when the last time it was opened.”
Kerry hid her disappointment, reaching out to curl her fingers just inside his jeans and belt. “Okay.” Instead of leaving immediately, she jerked her arms backward and pulled Broderick toward her by catching him off guard. Tilting her head back, she demanded sternly. “Kiss me once, before I go into withdrawal.”
Starting as a short, quick and playful kiss on her mouth, it spiraled into an erotic foray of lips and tongues. Soon one of Broderick’s hands slid under her shirt and upward to cup her right breast. Kerry couldn’t find the strength to end the kiss, but he did as the phone kept ringing.
“Wait for me, Kerry.”
Kerry nodded again and waited until he was around the corner before she turned to run up the stairs. In her room, she quickly checked the batteries on the four flashlights she now had. Sitting on the bed once again, Kerry grabbed her purse from the bench, along with the Bible. She pulled the two smaller books an
d the puzzle box from her bag. Unable to resist its lure, she fiddled with the box for a few minutes.
Frustrated, Kerry picked up one of the small books and saw that it was love poems. Inside the cover was an inscription, which appeared to be written by a masculine hand. Kerry lightly traced over the words with her index finger while she read the two hundred-year-old words.
“To my sweet Jenny…these phrases express my love for you much better than I can say the words.”
It was signed with only a capital “B.” Kerry was tempted to read some of the poems, but she didn’t want to start crying. Setting that book down, she picked up the last of the books she’d brought from the attic. Immediately Kerry noted that this was different from the others.
Kerry ran her fingers lightly over the plain leather. There were no etched letters on the cover, or on the binding. Opening the book slowly, she saw the first page contained handwriting, instead of the printing press style she had half expected. Reading the first line softly, she knew without a doubt that the owner of this book was Jenny.
“My dearest Broderick, I miss you so very much. Even though it is only one day since you left, my heart is so heavy for not telling you the truth sooner.” Kerry had to swallow hard before she could read more. She carefully thumbed through the pages, moving forward more than six months.
“General Washington was here today. I didn’t need to hear his words to know you were gone, my love. I have felt your loss for some time, yet I tried so desperately to pretend it wasn’t true.” She stopped abruptly as she noted the words were blurring from the tears in her eyes. Rubbing at her cheeks, she barely caught a tear before it joined Jenny’s long dried tears already smearing some of the words.
Hurriedly, Kerry set the leather journal on the bed beside her to avoid damaging it. Twisting on the bed, she grabbed a handful of tissues. After she blotted her cheeks and eyes, she blew her nose loudly. Still sniffing, unsure about reading more, she saw the lace handkerchief that was lying on the bed. It had obviously been folded and pressed into the book by the creases she could still see on the delicate woman’s hankie. There was a large, monogrammed blue letter “J” in the corner.
Quickly, Kerry blew her nose again. Then she carefully picked the intricate lace up with two fingers. It opened completely, revealing its precious treasure. Resting on her bed was a simple, narrow gold band. She couldn’t resist its lure and held it in the palm of her free hand. Tilting her hand, there appeared to be writing on the inside of the band. It was too small to read by the light in her room. She paused, considering whether to continue reading the journal or rush downstairs to show Broderick what she had discovered.
Deciding to share her exciting find with him, Kerry slipped off the bed. That’s when she first heard the noise. It was faint, but she was sure it was coming from behind the wall, in the newly discovered hallway. For a moment she remembered her promise to wait…she shrugged and pushed the ring into her pants pocket. Grabbing two flashlights, the small one that fit in her pocket, and the other that had fresh batteries, she walked over and reopened the door. Pausing, she noticed that there was no coldness this time, so she stepped inside the narrow hallway.
Using her flashlight, Kerry skimmed it quickly over the floor to make sure there were no waiting boards to trip them up. Taking a deep breath, she took one step down the hallway. Broderick’s words again flashed in her head for a moment, but she wasn’t going down the stairs, just checking the hall out for safety. Nodding her head in agreement with her rationale, she took two more steps.
Kerry paused to let the flashlight roam over the walls and ceiling. She didn’t want to find any mice or walk into any grandiose spider webs that were centuries old. She moved forward a couple more steps and found herself at the first stair leading down. Speaking softly, Kerry voiced her thoughts.
“It’s probably better for me to check the stairs out. I do weigh less than he does—all right! It’s slightly less, but he wouldn’t sit down on the top step like this.”
Kerry gently tucked the handkerchief into her waistband before she sat down, and then cautiously swung her feet around to rest on the second step down. She pushed hard with her feet, and then stomped them a few times before she eased her butt onto that stair and checked out the third. Her feet hit the fifth step before her butt had checked out the fourth, but logically she justified her actions.
“It only makes sense to do it this way. And besides, in the movies it is always the last step or so that gives way.” She worked her way down until her butt was on the fourth step from the bottom. From here, Kerry could see the far wall only. Resolving that it was safe after stomping her feet on the next stair, Kerry walked down the last two. She flashed the light around. Quickly recounting the stairs, Kerry knew that she’d only gone down one flight. But she couldn’t visualize in her head where she might be. Turning to the right, there was another hallway; only this one appeared to be a series of twists and turns instead of straight.
“Please, God, don’t let me get lost in here,” Kerry prayed for a moment, and then started down the hallway. She lost track after the third turn in the hall. On the History Channel, she remembered a special about old houses and secret passageways. There had been a mansion on there where suddenly a door would open to the outside, but it was on the second or third story. To the unwary, or if you just didn’t pay attention, that first step could break your neck, or just a leg at best.
The noise had become less distinct as she made her way along the dark halls. Kerry stopped, having come to a door for the first time along the hallway. Reaching out, she curled her fingers around the old-fashioned tarnished handle. Immediately she noticed the coldness in the metal, followed by the sound inside the room.
“Go on, damn it! Ghosts can’t hurt you, and you’ve already been chatting to one!” Kerry paused as she considered once again the possibility that it really hadn’t been her modern-day Broderick that first time in his bed. Why that thought suddenly popped into her head she couldn’t say for sure. Unless she didn’t want to come across an irate ghostly Jenny, now bent on revenge against her for sleeping with Colonial Broderick! She had not wanted to think about it, to be honest. Reluctantly she acknowledged something she had come across during her research. “I guess it is probable that you could have sex with a ghost…if the spirit inhabited your body.”
Stiffening her spine, Kerry twisted the handle and stepped into the room. She stopped abruptly, dropping her flashlight. In the rolling light she saw a misty figure of a woman seated at a small writing desk. The woman was dressed similarly to Kerry with the gown she had tried on the other day, but her hair streamed down to her waist. While her hand moved across an old piece of paper, Kerry realized the sounds she had heard were of this woman, or spirit, crying.
Kerry couldn’t help it. The woman’s soft sobs wrenched her heart. This was Jenny, most likely. From what she had read upstairs, it was obvious she and Broderick had loved one another. She could only guess at their connection, or actual relationship, because she had not seen any “Jenny’s” documented in that old Bible she’d found. Almost unaware of it, she spoke her name out loud.
“Jenny?”
The woman didn’t stop writing, or crying. Kerry frowned, moving closer towards the ephemeral figure. Less than two feet from the desk, she tried again.
“Jenny? Are you Broderick’s Jenny?”
The ghostly figure continued to write, and cry. Frustrated, Kerry spoke again. “I’ve met your Broderick, and I think the two of you have some unfinished business between you. After all, isn’t that why any ghost appears?”
“I must agree with you, wholeheartedly.”
Kerry swung around at hearing a voice behind her—Broderick’s voice that is. But there was a mist there, not a man. Slowly though, the mist began to circle and swirl, coming together more solidly until once again, colonial Broderick was standing there.
“Is that your Jenny?” Kerry asked him quickly, and a little impatiently. This ghost business
was beginning to wear on her nerves. “Maybe she will talk to you so we could sort this out and everyone can go rest in peace. Some people may like ghosts flitting about, but my Broderick doesn’t see it in real positive turns since this is going to be a bed and breakfast.”
The ghostly Broderick was now fully materialized, only this time he was dressed in the uniform many Revolutionary War officers had worn. There was also a large bloodstain, at what appeared to be directly over his heart. Kerry realized that it was quite possible he had died so instantaneously that he had almost been unaware of it. As she watched him staring at the woman, tears appeared in his eyes.
“Yes, this is my Jenny. The woman I loved, but never married. Dear God, Jenny! I am so sorry for not marrying you before the fighting started. I was a fool to think there would always be time for us.”
Kerry stepped back as Broderick walked toward the misty figure. She wished silently that she had read even more about ghosts and the forms they took, and especially information dealing with ghosts who still had issues to deal with! A moment later, she couldn’t stop the tears that were now rolling down her cheeks. Broderick had gone down on one knee beside the woman. Kerry had to lean forward and strain to hear his words. She did pause for half a second, considering this could be considered eavesdropping, since he had obviously lowered his voice. Scoffing at herself, she shook her head. If a ghost started appearing, the privacy issue, in her opinion, became moot.
“Jenny, my love, if only I had known that I would never return. What became of you, my sweet wife? You were already my wife in my heart and my mind. I should have just damned all the gossips and married you the day I met you because that is the day I first loved you. I would give anything to just hold you in my arms once more, to share one more sweet kiss.”
Hastily Kerry rubbed her tears away, noticing that Broderick’s spectral image was once again becoming less clear, and mistier. Suddenly she had an idea.