“Mount Dinah. It’s perfect. I can walk from the reception at the winery to my bed. Bring on the zinfandel, sister.”
“But don’t you know? The inn is haunted. Oh, Tricia, I should have made you a reservation somewhere else, I just didn’t think. Everyone else lives close enough to go home.” She was clutching her crystal beads so tightly that I was afraid the string would break.
If that happened, she’d take it as an omen and be miserable. I reached out and disentangled her fingers.
“You know what’s haunted, Allie? That No-Tell Motel off Route 81. It’s haunted by the ghosts of drunk college kids and their one night stands.” She cracked a smile, so I continued. “Those mattresses, imbued with the spirits of a million dying sperm. They cry out… for vengeance! Or possibly Lysol!” I waggled my fingers in a spooky way.
She laughed, but she still looked worried. “Okay, the inn is probably cleaner. But you don’t have to believe in ghosts for them to believe in you. Please be careful.”
“How am I supposed to be careful? Would a ghost be stopped by a chain lock?”
“I’ll ask the spirit world to protect you,” she said.
I hugged her, and changed the subject. “Oh, Allie. It’s your wedding day. Let’s let the spirits worry about you. I am so happy for you, you know that? Now that I’ve met Jack, I understand why you don’t want to leave this cow town. He is smoking hot.”
Her eyes lit up, and we were off on her new favorite topic. I liked her husband to be. He was gorgeous, successful, and kind. Privately, I was relieved to find that he wasn’t the least bit into crystals or magic moonbeams. Her friends seemed similarly level headed. Her best girlfriend and I could have been twins, in that alternate universe where I could stand country living.
Before she ran out of things to say, it was time to get ready.
The wedding was glorious. The October evening came on fast, and by the time the reception started we were dancing under an Appalachian night sky filled with stars.
It was late when I reached the inn. My room was nice, if you liked country décor. I didn’t, but I sure liked the extra tall bed with its down comforter. Without undressing, I threw myself on it with a sigh.
Oh, man, it was good to lie down. Allie had let her bridesmaids wear whatever we wanted, and I had on a cobalt blue sheath. It looked good, but it looked best when I wore my highest strappy heels. None of my New York friends would dream of getting married so young, so I’d never been part of a wedding party before. I hadn’t realized how much standing around I was going to be doing.
As I lay there, limp, with my numb feet dangling off the side of the bed, I listened to the night noises coming in through the open window. Crickets and tree frogs were quite a departure from rumbling trucks and honking taxis. I’d never heard the wind make quite that sound, either. Kind of a soft moan. Almost a whimper.
Ugh. Allie was rubbing off on me. I staggered up and closed the window. Before I flopped back down, I put the chain on the door.
I got comfortable again. The sounds of the inn were normal. I heard the clunk of the stairwell door, footsteps going down the hall, and the distant rumble of someone filling their ice bucket at the machine.
There was also a strange scraping sound, of ceramic on wood. That sound was close by. On a little table under the mirror, there was one of those china pitchers in a bowl. It was moving, almost imperceptibly. I felt my heart speed up.
Then I realized the tiny movements were in time with the footsteps going down the hall. This was just an old, rickety building. I heard a door open and close, and all was still.
I stared at the ceiling. “Stop twitching,” I said to myself in a stern voice.
There was no reply. But somewhere off to my left and down near the floor, I heard a woman’s laugh. It wasn’t a nice laugh, either. There was a menacing edge to it. I got out of bed again, looking for the vent that was probably conducting the sound from another room.
I found the vent, all right. Too bad it was on the other side of the bed and near the ceiling.
This being October, the air conditioning was off, I thought. All of a sudden, I was cold. Goosebumps rose along my bare arms, and I shivered. I shook my head to clear it. The chill didn’t pass. Instead, my room got colder, and colder, and still more cold until I thought I could see my own breath.
I went to the phone to call the front desk and have the air conditioning fixed. There was no dial tone.
I fled to the door as fast as my poor abused feet would take me, unchained it, and threw it open. I was going to demand either a new room or a refund and a ride to the No-Tell Motel, sperm and all.
Instead I blundered into someone standing right outside my door.
“Whoa there,” he said, steadying me. “Something on fire?”
I looked up at him, and even half out of my head with fear I couldn’t help but stare. Longish dark hair, tall, and cheekbones like a model’s. His smile was fantastic. His chin was square, with a little dimple in it. His eyes were the soft brown of my favorite Italian leather coat.
Best of all, he was warm. I could feel the cold air on my back rushing away.
I tried a little laugh. “I think something was wrong with my room’s air conditioning. I was hearing strange sounds and I nearly froze for a few minutes.”
“Wow. That’s a coincidence. My air conditioning is messed up, too.”
“Seriously?” I felt so much better. “I was starting to think I was crazy.”
“No, you’re not.”
He was wearing a soft cambric work shirt and a pair of retro style jeans. I tried to make a joke. “Now I’m starting to think I’m overdressed.”
He looked me over and gave me a wink. “You’re the best dressed woman I’ve ever seen.”
“Wedding at the winery.”
“Gotcha.”
“Thank you, by the way. For the compliment,” I said.
“Well, I’d say more, but I don’t want to be creepy.”
I was foolishly pleased. Me, the veteran of dozens of dinner parties where empty flattery is practically on the menu. “No, my room was creepy. It wasn’t just cold. I seriously thought I heard someone in there. Kind of… under the bed,” I faltered.
He looked concerned. “Would you like me to check it over?”
I stuck out my hand. “I’m Tricia.”
He looked confused, but he rallied. “Justin.” His hand was callused and dry. I felt a little tingle at his touch.
“Good. Now that we’ve been introduced, I can invite you in. Mama said I should never let strangers into my bedroom.”
I loved his laugh. It was rich and deep, and he didn’t try to suppress it. “Your mama is a wise woman,” he said.
I stood back to let him enter. He checked the vent, under the furniture, and even opened the window to look outside. Everything was normal for a crisp fall evening.
Justin looked at me and shrugged. That was the exact moment we heard the woman’s voice, and this time there was no question of vents. The sound was all around us.
“ONLY A FOOL WOULD STAY ALONE TONIGHT.”
I don’t remember moving, but I found myself pressed against his broad, warm chest with his arms around me. “Tell me you heard that,” I said. I tried to sound cool, but my voice cracked on the last word.
“I did. And I hope this doesn’t make me look like less of a man, but I agree with the voice.”
I was shaking. “This is ridiculous. I don’t believe in ghosts. Someone’s just playing a joke.”
“Hell of a joke,” he said. He rocked me back and forth, his own hands quivering just a bit.
I became aware of just how perfectly our bodies fit together. “If it makes you feel better, you don’t seem like less of a man to me.”
He smiled a little. “Thanks. But I didn’t mean to invite myself to stay. I’m just next door, I could hear you if you got into any difficulty.”
His hair was in his eyes, and I reached up to smooth it back. When I touched the soft
skin of his cheek, I felt another little jolt of electricity go up my arm. I shivered. “No,” I said. “I could use some company.”
“We could go to the parlor, if you wanted,” he said.
I didn’t move. “We could.”
Justin brought his own hand up to my hair. I felt the strands catch on the rough skin of his palms. He stroked my head for a moment, with a tentative look on his face. I smiled.
“You’re too manly to use lotion on your hands. They’re awfully rough.”
“Horse farm.”
“Gotcha.”
We grinned at each other. There was nothing tentative about the way he moved his hand down to my chin, and tilted my face up to meet his kiss.
Maybe it was the adrenaline following the scare, but his kiss nearly overwhelmed me. And I gave in. My heart was pounding, and I pressed myself against the whole length of his body. I didn’t try to keep my balance. His strong arms kept me close.
His tongue was hot against mine, probing and thrusting. I opened my mouth wider to encourage him, and he made a low throaty sound in response. He pulled his lips away only to put them on my throat and down to the soft flesh where my shoulder met my neck. I arched my back and moaned.
“That feels wonderful, Justin. Don’t stop.”
“You smell so good. You taste even better.”
His hands so far had remained chastely on my back. I reached for one and put it firmly on my breast. This time he made a louder sound. I felt his cock grow stiff and hard against me. He shifted his hips away.
“No. No, please stay.”
He looked at me with wide eyes. “I don’t want you to think-”
“I don’t. It’s my idea.” I wrapped my arms around his waist and pulled our bodies close. “I’m a big girl, Justin. What do we have to lose?”
“You’re an incredible woman. Where’d you say you lived?”
“I didn’t. New York.” I unbuttoned the top of his shirt. Mmm. Chest hair. The last lover I’d had was a waxer. I ran my fingers through the crisp curls.
“That’s too bad for me,” he managed to say. “It’s… hard for me to get away from here.”
“We’d better make the most of this night, then.”
“Agreed.”
His mouth met mine again. Somehow he got my dress off, and his own shirt over his head. I could smell leather on him, and soap. I ran my hands from his chest to his powerful shoulders and back, feeling the muscles ripple and shift.
Justin’s hand returned to my breast. He rubbed and squeezed, and his callused thumb on my nipple nearly made me faint. He caught me in time, and laid me on the bed. But before I could catch my breath, he knelt down between my legs. His fingers on my pussy were gentle, a glorious contrast to his rough tongue against my clit. He licked back and forth until I started to whimper his name.
“Justin… oh, Justin. Yes. Please,” I cried.
He stood up and pulled my hips to the edge of that lovely tall bed. I had no idea how he’d gotten his pants off without my noticing, but he’d managed, and gotten a condom on besides. The bed was exactly the right height for him to enter me while standing.
He paused with the head of his cock against my opening. He put his thumb gently on my throbbing clit. “Is this what you want, Tricia?”
“Yes.”
“It’s been so long for me. Tell me you want it.” He pushed a fraction of an inch into my body.
“I want it. God, I want it. Please, please fuck me, Justin.”
He groaned as he slid all the way into me. He was as thick and long as my favorite toy, and I tried to concentrate on matching his deep, even thrusts.
He noticed. “No, you gorgeous girl. Don’t do anything. Just feel.” He took his thumb away from my clit, and when I moaned in protest, he put his palm down and rubbed my whole pussy mound in firm, hard circles.
He timed the circles with his thrusts, and picked up speed. Soon all I knew was his cock filling me, and then I came.
The waves of sensation flooded out from my core, all the way to my toes. I rode those waves again and again until they ebbed and faded.
I opened my eyes. “Wow.”
“Thank you.”
I grabbed him and pulled him down on top of me. “Anytime,” I mumbled.
Before I knew it we were snuggled together in the bed. “I wish this was for more than just one night,” he said in a wistful voice.
“Give me your email address in the morning,” I said, half asleep. He didn’t answer except to tighten his embrace. I closed my eyes and sent a little thought of gratitude to whatever trick of acoustics threw that strange voice into my room.
The Blue Ridge morning with its cornflower blue sky was better than anything I could see in Manhattan, and my first thought was that maybe I wouldn’t mind visiting again. I rolled over to share that with Justin.
But he was gone. Only the dent in the pillow next to mine and the sweet soreness between my legs were proof that anyone had been in my room at all.
I bounced up and into the shower anyway. He was probably in his room.
When I went to knock on the door next to mine, I realized it was a housekeeping closet. I frowned in confusion. I could have sworn he said he was staying next door, and my room was between this closet and the outside wall.
I was feeling a little embarrassed when I got to the front desk. “Any messages for me?” I asked the middle aged clerk.
She gave me a sharp look. “No, hon, I’m afraid not,” she said slowly.
I thought I understood her expression, but I didn’t care. I’d never see her again, and I had to ask. “Did anyone with dark hair, kinda tall, check out this morning?”
Her pity was even more overt. “Oh, sweetie. No, he… He isn’t a guest at all, really.”
Now I understood. “Well, that’s probably for the best,” I said briskly, as I signed the bill. “By the way, my air conditioning came on full blast last night, even though it was nice and cool outside. The maintenance man knows.”
“Thanks for telling me.”
I turned to leave, but I couldn’t leave things well enough alone. I looked at the woman. “Please don’t be angry at your maintenance man for being in my room. And please tell him I’m sorry I didn’t see him this morning to say goodbye.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” said the woman. She came around the desk and sat me down on the couch by the fireplace. She took a deep breath. “This inn is haunted,” she said in a rush.
I laughed. “So I’d heard.”
“There’s a woman ghost, and she’s always laughing and taunting people. It’s not just her, though. I personally have seen children wearing pinafores and a Civil War soldier.”
“Really?” I tried to be polite. I made a mental note to tell Allison to come down here and make a friend.
“Justin is my favorite, though.”
“What did you say?” My face and hands went cold.
“Justin. He’s very sweet.”
“Oh?” I said weakly.
“You’re lucky to have seen him at all. We usually just hear him, because he only materializes on the anniversary of his death. Good looking boy, too.”
I felt an almost hysterical giggle bubble up from my chest. “He is. Was. Ha, yes, anyway, how do you know –”
“I was here when the fire tore through the east wing back in October of ‘75. The people across the hall from him were nearly overcome by smoke, but Justin got ‘em free. The lady cried out that their little dog was still in their room. Justin went back to try and save it right before the roof fell in.”
“My god.”
“So I’m sorry, honey, but when the sun comes up, Justin can’t be seen nor heard. But I think he’s hanging around, listening.” Just then, a phone rang in another room. The clerk gave me a motherly pat, and went to take the call.
I sat frozen on the couch. I felt a little breeze on my cheek, almost a kiss. And then the room was empty.
THE END
Fangs, Fur, and
Fae
by Marie Harte
Devon Meadows held perfectly still in the dark corner of the empty bedroom, willing herself invisible. It had long been rumored in her family that the women of her bloodline could do amazing things during times of crises. Either she’d been adopted, or this wasn’t enough of a crisis to merit panic magic.
She didn’t fade into the woodwork as she’d hoped. Her next best choice would be to escape the second floor and hide somewhere else until daybreak, when the moon disappeared. The mansion had enough rooms to conceivably hide herself, except that her scent carried to the maniacs after her. The darkness didn’t help any, because her pursuers could see just as well at night as they did during the day. The genes of vampire and wolf shifter had blended together to create a most powerful predator. Or predators--considering the dangerous brothers hunting her.
Her heart pounded like thunder, and she tried a muting spell to camouflage her presence from the marauders stalking her like a walking filet.
“Gotcha.”
She shrieked as Alistair Drake grabbed her and flung her over his shoulder.
“Dammit! Let me go!”
A large arm wrapped around her thighs and held her close. The man was like steel. No chance breaking free from his grip, not without some unworldly help.
Devon concentrated. “Mother Maker, bring me—oomph.” She suddenly found herself pinned against the wall, nose to nose with a very angry, sexy, and determined vamp-shifter.
“Not another word.” Alistair glared at her with enough heat to melt the icecaps. And the frigid hold on her sex drive.
Devon could have ignored his anger, but the carnal need in his dark eyes stirred an answering response deep within her.
He inhaled and groaned. “I knew it. You do want us.”
Before he could gloat, she kneed him right between the legs and shoved him away.
He fell and cupped himself while she scrambled to escape.
“No way am I taking on three of you,” she emphasized and left the room, heading for the stairs. Best friends or not, Devon had no intention of mating with the three hungry hybrids. She didn’t want permanence yet. Fae didn’t stray, and she wanted to live a little before making babies, or in the case of the Drakes, puppies--whatever.
Just One Bite Volume 2 Page 2