A small headache started between her eyes. “Isn’t your name Trixie?”
“No. I’m just wearing her name tag.”
Every conversation she’d had since she got on the boat had been odd. Was it always that way? Had the driver she’d hired to take her from New York City to the ferry been so strange?
“Why would you do that? Wear a tag not your own?” She had to start making sense of things.
“It’s just one of those things. I can’t find mine. I wear hers. Not that interesting a story.” The woman smiled. “Not like one of your books.”
Susan gasped. She’d not told anyone for years that she wrote under the name Charlie Preston. “How did you know that?”
“The cards told me.” She handed her a room key. “Take the third elevator. Number three. Your room is up there. Three-oh-five.”
“Thank you.” Coming here had been a poorly thought out decision. No way would she be able to sleep anywhere but her own bed. Still, before she went to her room to obsess, she had to ask a question. “What do you mean your cards told you?”
Myron leaned forward. “You’re not supposed to know yet. They’ve told me that as well.”
Susan nodded. This whole place was as coo-coo as she was. Fortunately, that would work for her. Maybe nobody would care if she didn’t leave her room very much.
Susan turned away and hurried to the elevator. Staying in her room would be the name of the game. For a second, she thought to wait for Isyllus but then decided against it. He wouldn’t want to know her when she was in this much of a state.
Chapter Two
Isyllus stared openmouthed at the woman whose name was Trixie but was actually named Myron. “How can you have a reservation for me?”
“When Susan called, I saw in the cards that you would be coming and would need a room as well.” She flipped the button on her computer to shuffle her electronic deck of cards.
“This is all very odd.” He lowered his voice. “What kind of place is this?”
“It’s a healing place, as the brochure stated. It may have left out that we also cater to the non-human variety of clientele.” Myron handed him a key. “You’re on the second floor. Room Two-oh-two.”
“No.” He shook his head. “I don’t need a room. I don’t sleep. I’ll just stay with Susie.”
“Unfortunately, that can’t happen. Humans are on the third floor. Second floor is for the paranormal element here.” She patted his hand. “Most of the time our paranormal guests come from a portal, but with your situation we didn’t mind you arriving a different way. However, you’ll need to stay with the other non-humans.” She smirked. “Mr. Zeus.”
Isyllus looked left and right. “I keep looking for your Muse and you don’t have one. In fact, I haven’t seen one since I’ve gotten here. You’re all clearly very talented in your various ways. How is it that you’re all Muse-less?”
“That’s not a question I can answer for you. The Fates let me see what they will as they do for you, too. Now, go to your room before I have Rekkus come and drag you there.”
“Rekkus?”
Myron sighed. “He handles security, and he’s a very mean shifter. Don’t piss him off.”
“That’s good advice. Don’t piss me off.” The man who must be Rekkus walked over. Myron’s description hadn’t been wrong. He was a man no one would want to piss off. With dark hair and golden eyes he stood even taller than Isyllus’s six-foot frame.
“It is never my intention to upset people. By contrast, I strive for happiness and creativity.” He shrugged. “I’m a Muse.”
Cemil came up behind Rekkus. “We’ve not had one before. As you can see, this island isn’t set up for them. You’re all human here.”
“What?” Isyllus breathed.
“Hadn’t you realized? Everyone can see you because you look just like any other human here.” Cemil patted him on the back. “Perhaps the experience will give you the chance to see what it is you want.”
“Then if I’m human, why am I staying on the paranormal floor? Won’t the vampires eat me?” He wanted to get back to Susan. Human or not she was his charge. How would she find her creative voice again if he didn’t stay with her?
“No. You’re still a non-human. For example, right now you’re broadcasting so much creativity it wouldn’t surprise me if half our guests don’t start painting and writing plays.” Cemil smiled. “It’s great. But you can’t be on the same floor with them, interfering with their journeys while they sleep. And perhaps it will give you some time to figure out what you wish to do with the time you have here. How you wish to spend it.”
“Fate has given me a very specific role to play.” No one seemed to be listening to him.
“That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t watch your neck.” Rekkus smiled, showing all his teeth. “Keep the door locked. All that good stuff.”
“I don’t even need a room. I don’t sleep.”
But no one listened to him and he found himself being escorted to the elevator by Rekkus. “Do me a favor.” The shifter’s strong gaze told him he was aggressive and not afraid of eye contact. He stood well over six feet tall. If he shifted into an equally sized animal he’d be huge. “Don’t be giving my wife any creative ideas to leave me. I won’t like that.”
“Well, that’s not exactly how it works. I don’t control what people come up with and besides, I’m only assigned to Susie so—”
Isyllus had no idea why he felt the need to explain himself, but Rekkus interrupted him. “Just make sure it doesn’t happen. And make sure you come to dinner. Every guest is required to attend dinner. We have to do a count, you know. The vampires.”
Isyllus entered the elevator and it closed behind him. He rode it to the second floor, his mind buzzing. The same sensation had led him to believe that coming here would be the best possible thing for Susie. He had to count on that. If she was in her room getting some rest than that was the best possible thing. He’d just wait. They all had to be at dinner together. He’d join her there.
A strange sweet smell greeted him. The door clicked closed behind him. He admired the reds and browns of the room’s decor. Someone had thought this would be a good place to stick a man. Nothing pink or frilly.
Isyllus smiled, sniffing the air again. Cemil was clearly an empath. One of the other owners worked with herbs. What was he or she trying to achieve with the combination of scents placed in here?
He walked into the bathroom where an array of toiletries was laid out for him. A note written in perfect cursive handwriting had been left on the counter.
Dear Mr. Zeus.
Isyllus flinched as he read that name. What on earth had prompted him to pick such a dumb last name? Were they all intending to use it the whole time he was there?
We realize you do not have any stuff. So we have provided you with what we thought you might like to use while you are here. We hope you enjoy your stay with us.
Sage Rowan
Isyllus smiled. That had been very thoughtful of Sage. He wondered if she had been the one to put the beautiful smells in his room. Already his neck felt less kinked than it had in the elevator.
Susie would be fine. He was her Muse, not her caretaker.
He gritted his teeth while he spoke to no one but himself. “Let’s face it. You’ve wanted to be a lot more than that to her for a long time.”
Since the moment he’d laid eyes on her. But the Fates had not made him a mortal man. He did not get to fall in love or desire his charges. Of course, that hadn’t stopped him from doing just that.
He yawned and walked to the closet.
Wait. Yawned?
Isyllus didn’t do that. Except he just had.
Wow.
This place did strange things to him. Opening the closet, he saw that they’d hung some clothe
s up for him just like they had the toiletries.
When they’d said he’d be human, they hadn’t been kidding. Lots of firsts were going to be happening. Showering. Dressing. Changing his clothes. He grinned. It would be fun to be there for a week. How many Muses ever got to play at being human?
His mind fogged up. The herbs. They must bring on sleep. He climbed into the bed, clutching the pillow up against him. Soft.
That was his last thought before his eyes closed.
Susan drifted in a haze of happiness. Intellectually, she understood she was asleep, but she had no intention of waking up. Not if she were given the choice. Why would anyone want to awaken when they could feel so good asleep?
She wasn’t being plagued by anxiety, fear, or doubt. And she got to look at him.
As if her thoughts had summoned him, Isyllus walked into view. She suddenly realized she was sitting on a bed—the pink and white one located in her hotel room.
“Why are you smiling?” He sat down next to her on the bed as if he had the right to do so, as if he had always been allowed to enter her bedroom whenever he felt like it.
“Because dreams are like this.” She leaned her head on his shoulder. “One second you don’t know something and the next you realize you’re sitting on a bed.”
He looked all around, a smile lighting up his face. “I hadn’t realized. Is writing like this, too? It seems like it is.”
“Sometimes. When the characters surprise you. When they do things you don’t know they’re going to and you suddenly realized you’ve changed everything on the page.”
“That’s what I thought.” He took her hand. “Whose dream is this? Yours or mine?”
“I think it must be mine.” She sat up on her knees. “I can’t believe you’d be fascinated about me the way I am about you. For example, I want to kiss you. So that’s what I’m going to do.”
Susan pressed her lips to his. The rough stubble on his chin scraped against her skin. The sensation sent shivers up and down her spine. His lips were warm and he tasted like freedom. She wanted to kiss him again, so that was just what she did, over and over again until she thought she might drown in the sensual wash on her senses.
“Susie.” He pulled back to look at her, then tugged her tighter against him. Isyllus kissed her neck, small tender presses of pleasure tracing from just behind her ear down to her shoulder blade. She moaned before she pressed her face against his chest to breathe him in. How could he smell like springtime? She would never even write that line in one of her books. Yet he did. He smelled just like a season to her.
How had he known she wanted to be kissed like that? Well, of course, because this was just a dream. Her dream. She could have whatever she wanted.
His hand slipped beneath her shirt.
“Let me help you with that.” She yanked the unwanted clothing over her head and threw it off to the side. “More of an unobstructed view.”
In real life she’d never behave like this. Ever. The few bumbling sexual experiences she’d had did not leave her feeling satisfied or adventurous. Her heroines could get off with their heroes in remarkable ways. But she’d never been daring enough to try those ways herself.
“I can touch you.” His words were said with such awe her cheeks heated up.
“As much as you want.”
“I see the irony of what I’m about to say but I never dreamed I’d have the right.”
He caressed her, his hand moving from her neck down to her belly button. He groaned before reaching out to tweak her nipple. She sucked in her breath. When had her breasts ever been so sensitive? How could they have come alive so completely?
She raised her hands to stroke his chest. “I want your shirt off.”
He did as she asked. They were both naked from the waist up.
“Usually, I wear a bra. But you know, dream rules.”
“Right.” He pressed her up against him. They were skin to skin. “I don’t dream. Never have. But I wanted this. Just so you know. When I shouldn’t.”
“When?” She kissed his neck. “On the boat?”
“Feels like forever.”
“Maybe it’s the dream doing that.” He was so long and lean. She’d never liked the way bulky men looked. At five-foot-nothing, she couldn’t handle bulk. It overwhelmed her. Life threw her enough loops. She didn’t need to feel that way in the bedroom too.
“You smell like jasmine.” She inhaled deeply. “My favorite scent. Sometimes I think I smell the scent everywhere. On a warm spring day, the aroma surrounds me.”
He kissed her, this time frantically as if her words spurred him into a frenzy. She tried to keep up and didn’t care that she could hardly breathe between their kisses. She didn’t need to breathe in her dreams.
Isyllus moved, and she could feel his hard cock pushing against his pants. She squirmed against him because it gave her a thrill to do so. He rolled her over, coming above her to look down at her face.
“How far do you want to go with this?” He asked her, his gaze reaching down into her soul.
“The whole way.” She reached up to kiss him. “What’s the point of dreaming if I can’t have everything I want?”
“And you want me? The way I do you?”
She cupped him through his pants and had the pleasure of hearing him hiss. “Very badly.”
“You can show me how you like things. What the ways are that I can pleasure you.”
How convenient. Her own personal imaginary lover who wanted only to touch her in all the ways she wanted to be. That didn’t happen in real life.
She pulled off her pants and he followed suit. His cock jutted out in front of him, calling to her, begging to be stroked or licked. For now, she wanted it inside of her. Hopefully, there would be time to play later.
“Touch me.” She placed his fingers right on her clit. Men could never find it and her experience with her two partners had taught her they didn’t care to be instructed. But she could have what she wanted here. Her heroes always knew how to touch their women. In this dream, her hero would know how to make her come.
“Right there? Oh yes. I feel it. Amazing.” He stroked her for a second before finding a circular rhythm that she liked. She closed her eyes.
“That’s it. You’re doing that exactly right.” Her head moved from side to side on the pillow. “When you touch me like that—” she sucked in her breath “—I’m not scared of anything.”
“Well then, Susie. For as long as I can, I will make sure I touch you like this every day.”
“If only that could be true.”
He hit the right spot and her muscles spasmed around his hand. She called out his name, colors swarming in front of her eyes, while at the same time tears streamed down her cheeks.
It took a few minutes, but she eventually fell back to earth. She sighed. “Wow. This is a hell of a dream.”
“It is.”
She watched as he took the fingers he’d had inside of her and placed them in his mouth.
“You taste like…happiness.”
“Wow.” Sweat dripped on her body. He’d made her so hot she hadn’t even realized that she glistened so badly. “This is the like the hottest fantasy I’ve ever had—”
Banging on her door jolted her awake. Susan sat up, her heart pounding. She looked left and right. What was going on?
“Ms. Charlie?” A male voice called to her from the hall. “Time for dinner. You need to be downstairs.”
“That’s right.” She called back. “I’m sorry. I must have overslept.”
She rubbed at her eyes. Never in her life had she encountered such a vivid dream.
The voice of the person banging on her door yelled down the hall. “Damn those herbs.” Whoever it was walked away. She stood up and crossed to her clos
et.
Still feeling like she couldn’t get out of her haze, she dressed casually. Black pants with a white fitted t-shirt would have to be enough. If they wanted her fancier than that at meals she’d be in trouble. Her year spent in the house hadn’t required a lot of dressy clothes.
She looked in the mirror. Her unexpected nap, coupled with the amazing dream she’d just experienced, had done a lot to put color back in her cheeks. Her eyes were less dull and her skin glowed. Well, she might not have had a real orgasm, but it had done the trick.
“All right, George.” She swallowed. “I think I’m ready to face a room full of strangers.” Her stomach twisted. “Maybe.”
Isyllus sat up in his bed. His penis stood erect through his pants. He stared at it for an awed second before letting out a laugh. That had been a dream. A phenomenal experience. Did humans always experience things like that in their sleep? No wonder they wanted to spend so much time slumbering.
And the way the inside of Susie had felt. Warm, inviting. He jumped out of bed. There wouldn’t be very much time until dinner. If he didn’t show up shortly, they’d come looking for him to make sure he hadn’t become a snack for the vampires.
He got into the shower. It took him a little while to figure out the mechanics of the whole thing but soon managed to lather himself up with the pleasant-smelling soap. Isyllus lifted it to his nose. What was that? Something infused with jasmine. Susie had called it her favorite smell when he’d dreamed of her.
Feeling a compulsion like no other, he took himself in his hand. In his imagination, he made it Susan’s fingers touching him. She would know the right kind of pressure to use. Up and down, she stroked him, until he finally came in his hand. He leaned backward, almost slipping in the shower.
Was this what being a human was like? A constant ache, a need for another person that couldn’t be relieved if he was not with you? Was this what troubled Susie?
He pondered these questions as he got dressed. Who did she long for? Had he missed it when someone broke her heart? He wanted to throw something.
Finding Her A-Muse-Ment Page 2