Brandon's Very Merry Haunted Christmas (A Snow Globe Christmas Book 11)

by AJ Sherwood

  I heard Les suck in a hissed breath. He, at least, heard her.

  “It will be fine,” I assured her gently. “You’re not the first I’ve helped over. Just take my hand. Let me guide you.”

  She gingerly did, standing like she had human legs and muscles and bones to contend with. Odd, the mannerisms retained in death. Her touch felt cool against my bare skin, but not unpleasantly so. I waited for her to stand completely before leading her a half-step off the gazebo and onto the path marked by the lights.

  Emma took a step, and with it, her form firmed a little, no longer completely transparent. She took another and then looked down, surprised to see herself on the path. “I’m stronger?”

  Everyone jerked at that. They’d all heard her.

  “Yes,” I confirmed, rather unnecessarily. “There’s good energy around you, that’s why. And you’re drawing strength from the light. Emma, do you remember your home? The feeling, the contentment, the joy of that?”

  She turned her head, and I could see a nose, now. Something of her features. “Yes. I…I think I do.”

  “Well, that’s all you’re doing. You’re going home.” I brought her another step forward, staying out of the lights, leaving her solely on the path. Rookie mistake, walking a path with a ghost. I’ve only done that once. Stupid’s a harsh teacher, but by god, you learn.

  Emma walked, mostly unassisted, and her eyes faced forward once more. “Oh! I see it.”

  “Bright light, open door waiting for you?” I double checked. Sometimes ghosts didn’t understand what they should be looking for.

  “Yes! Is that it?”

  “That is it, my lady. Walk on through.”

  She paused at the end of the lights, and I assumed at the open door. She could see it clearly, but I couldn’t and shouldn’t until I was well and truly dead. Emma was fully distinguishable now and opaque. She’d been lovely in life, I could see that, and her smile at me spoke only of joy. “Thank you so much, Mack. I’m sorry for the trouble. Tell Jon thank you for taking me to you.”

  “I can hear you fine, Emma,” Jon called to her from the gazebo. “And you’re quite welcome.”

  She turned a little more, smiling at him, then sailed through that invisible door. In a flash, she was gone. For her sake, I was relieved. I turned to the watching crowd and shrugged, feeling rather like a stage magician at the end of a trick. “And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the proper way to guide a spirit’s passing.”

  9

  Something about competence was sexy as hell. Right now, Mack was radiating it. I was alternatively proud of him and ready to drag him into a dark corner somewhere to kiss him senseless. If the flirting he’d done earlier was any indication, he’d be alright with making out. I just had to find the right timing.

  Dave looked over Marianne’s shoulder, said something to her, then pumped a victorious fist into the air. “We got every second of that. Mack, it’s already paying off to work with you. Even the raw footage is glorious.”

  Mack came up to the stairs, standing close to me, his body radiating heat. It made my skin tingle, and I was so distracted by that I almost didn’t pay attention to his response. “That’s great, Dave. So, what do you want to do now?”

  “We’ll need to break down here, start setting up for tonight. We’ve got another two or three hours until proper nightfall, which should give us enough time to set it all up.”

  I pulled my head back in the game. “You need help with any of that?”

  Marianne shook her head. “No offense, but we know our equipment and how to set up. You won’t be of much help. Get dinner or something. Meet us in the basement area at eight o’clock.”

  My libido immediately started making plans. “Okay. Guys, I guess we can take it easy.”

  Jon gave me a look like he knew exactly what I was thinking (he likely did) and fought a smirk as he said, “I’ll hang with Donovan until it’s time, then. See you.”

  I liked Jon for many reasons, but one of them was his ability to read a situation and act appropriately. He didn’t need to take a hint—he didn’t need the hint in the first place.

  A hand slid into mine, fingers cold but firm. I looked down at Mack in surprise, but he wasn’t looking at me. He waved at the ghost hunting crew, then casually led me back inside. I returned the hold he had on me, anticipation turning my mouth a little dry. The fact he was dragging me off somewhere was a good sign, right?

  We went straight up to my hotel room. I tried telling myself this was probably not going to go in that direction. My room was just the most private area on offer. My libido latched onto the word ‘private’ with great enthusiasm, like a dog with a new bone, and refused to let go of it.

  Mack went through the door without any hesitation or hint of shyness, pulled me through, then shut the door with a very firm click. Only then did he turn to me, and for the first time, I saw a hint of nerves in the way his free hand fidgeted on the edge of his sweater.

  “Brandon, clear the air with me. Are you just flirting for the hell of it or—”

  My brain clicked off. I lunged forward without thinking about it and caught his neck with my free hand, holding him still as I kissed him. His lips were unbelievably soft, yielding under mine as he gave a soft sigh of pleasure that punched me right in the gut in the best sense. I tried to step in closer, wanting him pressed up against me, but the height difference posed a problem. I was forced to pull back before I really wanted to. It was either that or manhandle him, and I didn’t think that good manners with a guy I wasn’t technically dating.

  He blinked up at me, a little dazed, mouth still parted. Then he seemed to dial back in, a smile taking over his face. “Great answer.”

  “I like you,” I told him. “I don’t know what you want from me, though. Is this a hookup?”

  His eyes were sharp and clear, almost grey in this lighting. “Not my preference, cher. Brandon, want to date?”

  I loved the confidence in him, finding it sexy as hell. I felt a little tongue-tied, but that straightforward approach released my tension and let me respond in kind. “I’d love to. But Mack, I have to tell you, I really don’t know what I’m doing. You’re the first guy I’ve ever been with.”

  Mack nodded, still smiling. “I figured, after what you told me. That’s alright. I don’t have all that much dating experience, either. We’ll figure it out together.”

  The easy acceptance loosened another knot of worry I’d been lugging around. I really liked that idea, too, of us learning how to be us. Of not being held to some standard I didn’t know about.

  “First step,” Mack continued, mock-seriously. “Get that jacket off. Then sit. I want to straddle your lap and kiss you senseless.”

  “You’re really on a roll with all these great ideas,” I teased, shucking my jacket and tossing it carelessly over the chair near the door.

  There was only one chair in the room without arms, and it looked sturdy enough to hold both of us. I wasn’t willing to sit on the bed yet, as that might give off the wrong signals. I’d love to have sex with him, no question, but I didn’t want to ruin a good thing by going too fast. I settled in the chair and a second later had a sexy brunet straddling my thighs, his hands sliding slowly up my chest as he settled.

  “Been dying to get my hands on you,” he purred, radiating satisfaction as he tilted his head up and kissed me.

  Our tongues met in a hot, slick glide that sent a shudder of desire through me. Some analytical part of my brain still working noted I’d never reacted like this to a kiss before. I liked kissing, but I’d never felt this jittery sensation in my chest before. Never felt so frustrated with the barrier of clothes. My hands had never ached to find bare skin. Mack had awakened a hunger in me I didn’t know had existed.

  Mack groaned in approval as my hands stole under his sweater, palm smoothing over the warm skin of his back. Just this was heady—I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have him completely bare and pressed up against me. I might well
lose my mind. The kiss became pure sin—teeth nipping, tongue lathing and licking, the kind of kiss that bypassed the brain and spoke directly to every nerve ending of want and need and desire. It spoke of suction and moisture, sweat and thrusting, promised teasing agony and ultimate rapture. It was unbearably sexual.

  I was ever so glad we were sitting, as my knees felt weak and I’d have taken us both to the floor if I’d been standing. God, I had to learn how to do that. To drive him crazy like this.

  Mack groaned against my mouth, rocking his hips into mine, and hot damn, he was rock hard in his jeans. I could feel it clearly. If we weren’t technically on a first date, I’d have gotten my hands on that. But I don’t demand sex on a first date—it’s just rude—and…and…shit, my willpower just threatened to become a missing person.

  I pulled back with a gasp, and Mack whined, trying to capture my mouth again.

  “If you don’t want me to throw you on the bed and suck you off, stop,” I commanded harshly, my breathing erratic and loud.

  Those light brown eyes were dark with hunger as he stared up at me, and his breathing was just as out of control as my own. “You really need to come with warning labels.”

  It took a second longer than it should have to process that, as most of my brain cells had fled south some time ago, and then I snorted. “Excuse me, you’re the one who kisses like sin.”

  He looked surprised and delighted, as if he’d never heard anything like it before. His expression made me think I’d need to get a list of anyone he’d been with, maybe set some operational parameters, break a few jaws. No one should be that insecure about their sexual appeal, especially not while straddling their boyfriend’s lap. The currently very, very riled up boyfriend who needed some sort of release because a cold shower was not going to cut it.

  Mack looked down, saw the state I was in, and arched his eyebrows. “Wow. I didn’t really intend to get us this hot and bothered.”

  “Yeah, this was poor planning. On both our parts.”

  He looked at me hopefully. “Hand jobs be okay?”

  I dared anyone, man or woman, to look at that face and say no. Maybe some man in the world would have the willpower to deny him, but it certainly wasn’t this man. No siree. “Bed.”

  With a happy sound of agreement, he slid off me, already pulling his sweater off. I took in the sight of his bare back, beautifully fair with a little line of freckles along the shoulders, and felt my common sense click off. I absolutely had to get my hands on that.

  I caught him around the waist, stilling him and pulling him firmly into me. He came with a soft gasp of surprise. With him like this, it was easy to unbutton his jeans, maneuver the zipper down, then reach my hand inside and wrap around the length of him. Mack sighed, trusting his body weight to me. I pulled him free so I could both look and have the freedom to move. He wasn’t particularly wide, but he was pretty, a long line that was a nice contrast against my darker skin.

  It should have felt odd to have another man’s dick in my hand. Maybe on some level it was. It didn’t matter if it was or not, though. I wanted him too badly. He was hot and firm, and with every stroke, he made this breathless little gasp that stirred me up. I absolutely loved seeing him react like this, knowing I was the one giving him pleasure.

  Mack lifted my other hand, putting it against his nipple. I took the hint and pinched and rolled it between thumb and forefinger. He groaned in the back of his throat, and that sound was pure sex. His hands found my thighs, and he gripped them, his ass grinding into my groin as he started thrusting into my hand and god, that was sexy. Sparks raced through me with every shift, and I really, truly hated my jeans just then. I couldn’t let go of him long enough to get out of them, though, and the pressure was borderline pleasure and pain. I shifted my stance and spread my legs a little more so he could press into me easier, evening out our heights. Ah, damn, yeah. That was better. Mack turned his head, his mouth latching onto the side of my neck and sucking on the skin hard.

  I knew a split second before he came. He shuddered, a fine tremor sweeping him head to toe, and he let go of the suction on my skin as he arched and climaxed. He made this adorable sigh as he came down from the high, going lax in my arms. I imagined having him like this in the future, content and sated, pressed up against me, and damn near came at just the mental image. And he thought I was the one who should come with warning labels?

  He pulled free of my arms just so he could turn, and there was a glint in his eyes that was all hunger. “Your turn, cher.”

  Since I was hard enough to drill a hole right through the zipper, I was all for this plan. “We never made it to the bed. You want to—”

  “Mm, bed will be easier on me,” he said cryptically. Seizing my hips, he hauled me the remaining two feet, and sat on the edge.

  Because my blood was still all south and my brain had nothing to work with, it took me two seconds to realize what he planned. He had my pants open and my cock out before it clicked. Oh man, oh man, oh man a blowjob? I choked back a whimper. Yes, please. But—I found two brain cells, rubbed them together, and got something sensible out. “Mack, FYI. I got tested when I joined the FBI. I’m clear.”

  He blinked up at me, surprised, then smiled, and god, the smile slayed me. Right there and then, slayed me. “Merci. For the record, I got tested too when I joined. I’m clear and haven’t been with anyone since then.”

  So green lights all the way for both of us? Awesome.

  Tilting his head, he laved at the side of my dick, and the wet heat nearly made me cry tears of joy. “Does that mean I can get my mouth on you now?”

  “Please?”

  He might have huffed a laugh before he put his mouth around the head and slowly took me in, his tongue stroking at the spot right—nnnngh. Hot damn, he was good at this. My hands found those curls and gripped the locks as I fought the urge to thrust. It felt so insanely good, I did not want to ruin the moment.

  Mack bobbed his head as he worked my dick, his hands on my thighs for balance. The sounds he was making were obscene, wet and slurping. I couldn’t look at him for more than two seconds at a time. I was afraid I’d blow my load if I did, but I wanted to look. I really, really wanted to look. His mouth and tongue were hot and slick in all the right ways. Sparks coiled at the base of my spine, pleasure giving way to red-hot tension as my climax built. I wanted it, I craved it, I hated that it was coming so soon. I wanted to dwell in this moment a lot longer.

  He trailed a hand around my thigh, pushing my jeans and boxers further down, then slid a hand down and cupped my balls, rolling them in a gentle massage. It tipped me over, and I tried to get out a warning. “M-nn-Mack—”

  Mack hummed and pulled me in a little tighter, and my climax ripped through me like a tidal wave. My vision went black under the force of it, and I was only vaguely aware of the stabilizing hands around my legs and hips, the suction swallowing me down as I came.

  My knees shook as I came back to myself. Pretty sure I checked out, there. Mack had his head tilted back, smirking up at me in a (rightly) smug way. “Did I just blow your mind?”

  “Did you ever,” I rasped back, still a little floored by my own reaction. I liked sex. I mean, it’s fun, it feels great, what’s not to like? I’d never come as hard as I just had, especially not from a blowjob.

  Shit. Maybe I wasn’t bi? Maybe I was gay and just in denial this whole time?

  No, wait, Jon had said I was bisexual. Right. So maybe it was just Mack. I really liked him, probably more than anyone else I’d had sex with. Maybe that played into it?

  “Let’s straighten ourselves out, maybe cuddle a bit?” he offered shyly.

  “My knees are still shaking,” I informed him. “I need cuddles and maybe twenty minutes for my blood to return to my head.”

  That pleased him; I wasn’t sure why. It was something I’d definitely ask about, though.

  We grabbed tissues from the nightstand, cleaned up a little, and tucked ourselves back in. Mack almo
st put his sweater back on, but I wanted to properly experience cuddling with bare skin, so I shucked mine off instead. That pleased him enormously, and he was all too happy to climb in next to me on the bed and snuggle into me. He pressed his forehead into the crook of my neck and sighed happily.

  I rubbed one hand lightly up and down his side, enjoying the press of warm skin, the intimacy of being curled up next to him. We’d rushed into sex, but I didn’t want him to think that was all I was interested in. I cast about for the right thing to say, but nothing sprang to mind. Instead, I went with what I had. “Mack, I’m new to this, so tell me if you’re not okay with it, but—well, I told my family last night I’m bisexual. I told them about you, too.”

  His head came up, and his eyes were wide. “About me?”

  “About how I like you,” I elaborated, not sure what to make of his expression. Was he surprised or apprehensive? “I’d like to tell them that we’re dating. That okay?”

  Mack floundered for a moment, jaw working but nothing intelligible coming out. “Wait. Wait, back up. Your parents and sister…they’re perfectly okay with your orientation?”

  I suppose of all the things we’d said in front of him, that hadn’t come across. “Oh yeah. No problem there. We all really like Jon—in fact, we’re relieved he and Donovan are together. My brother didn’t have the best track record for dating before Jon. They were surprised when I told them, but that’s just because we were all pretty sure I was straight. But they were excited, I guess? At least, I got bombarded with questions.”

  “That kind of acceptance is really beautiful,” Mack said wistfully. “You’re really lucky.”

  Uh-oh. That urge to kill people was back. “You don’t have that in your family?”

  “Reaction’s pretty mixed. My mom’s supportive all the way. I have a sister and two cousins who are okay with me. But the other people in my family are still debating which is worse: that I’m a medium or that I’m gay.”