Dropping her purse and keys on her kitchen table, she looked nervously around, the dark dreary day outside casting dark shadows throughout her kitchen, and beyond into her living room. Normally she thought of her place as cozy, warm, her private sanctuary.
Her heart raced, pounding so hard in her chest that it hurt. She couldn’t stop shaking, her breath coming in quick pants.
“This is my home,” she told herself, forcing the words out. “No one may harm me here.”
Walking over to her refrigerator, she took the small box of wooden matches from the top of it, and then carefully lit the candle in her living room. The soft glow helped a bit.
She plopped down on her loveseat-sized couch. Staring into the dancing flame rising from the wick of the candle on her coffee table, she worked to sort her thoughts.
I can’t just sit here all day terrified.
Nor would she.
Whatever had approached her, she had been able to force it away. And she knew beyond any doubts that something—someone—had tried to reach her. Never once had she given much thought to a spirit world, or ghosts, but there had been something there. It had touched her.
Touching her cheek, her thoughts drifted to Braze. That had been a dream. Yet in that dream he had fucked her, brought her body to a climax more real than any she had ever had while awake. Yet he’d never touched her.
And someone had touched her. Fingers had stroked her cheek. She had no idea why they had been in the car with her, but they had, and they’d reached out and touched her.
She’d never felt more tortured. Her body was on fire yet she was scared to death at the same time. Every inch of her, every single nerve ending, cried out for relief. Her breasts felt swollen, her nipples hard and painfully craving the moist heat of a mouth sucking, pulling, drawing from her. The throb in her pussy matched the pounding of her heart. A craving built in her, intensified, screamed out for satisfaction.
Tiny pellets tapped on her window, the rain turning into icy hail. Looking in that direction, staring into the grayness outside, her thoughts continued to wander.
Her visitors earlier at her shop had been odd, but she didn’t think they had anything to do with the sensations she’d felt at the orphanage and in her car. For some reason though, something told her those two incidents were linked. What she didn’t understand was why the feeling that someone had been with her had made her so incredibly horny.
Standing up, she started pacing, trying to make sense of it all. The small flame flickered on the candle while she walked past it in the small space of her living room. Doubt and curiosity warred inside her, but neither took away the growing need that pulsated deep within her.
“Braze,” she said his name out loud.
He haunted her dreams, took her places no other man ever would. With her busy life she seldom made time for other men. Most of them seemed so shallow, so incomplete. It wasn’t something she could put her finger on, but although a fair amount of men sought her out, Bridget never saw anything in any of them worth pursuing.
But in her dreams, the man she had never seen, took her to places she only wished would happen in real life. She stopped pacing, a heavy sigh escaping past her lips. Moistening them, she turned toward her apartment door, staring at the solid wood, the brass doorknob.
Someone like Braze, determined and all-knowing, would be perfect to have in her life right now. Bridget would love being able to unload her thoughts. Her dream man wouldn’t call her crazy. He wouldn’t brush her off when her fears were so strong.
Muffled footsteps in the hallway echoed quietly on the other side of her door. The flame on her candle flickered as if a gust of wind had just attacked it. An uncontrolled shiver brushed through her, somehow intensifying the need growing within her. Moisture coated the smooth, shaved skin between her thighs. A rush of enticing excitement made her feel almost giddy.
Bridget turned quickly, doing a half circle, fisting her hands while her long hair flew about her. She needed to grab a hold of her emotions. Her dreams were making her feel like a stupid schoolgirl, reacting to hormones instead of good sense. Losing control like this wasn’t in her nature.
“And that is why you are going to quit this right now,” she scolded herself.
There were things to do. She wouldn’t waste a perfectly good work day pondering over things that made no sense. There were orders to get out. The candle store downtown wanted more of her candelabras and incense holders. Nothing would get accomplished with her hiding in her apartment because something she couldn’t see made her so damned horny she couldn’t think straight.
A gentle tapping on the door stopped all thoughts. Bridget turned, running her fingers through her hair while staring at her door. For a moment, her heart quit beating, and she took a slow deep breath, forcing herself to calm down, to be sensible.
It was her friend, Naomi. She could almost see her standing on the other side of the door, her strawberry blonde hair in two braids down her front.
“Come on in, girlfriend,” she called out, the need to look busy suddenly hitting her.
Naomi would worry if she saw her sitting, brooding, during the middle of the day.
Naomi entered, filling Bridget’s small living room with the fresh scent of roses. Her friend’s perfume was a reassuring smell—something stable, normal.
Bridget smiled. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m not sure.” Naomi studied her with a careful look, her pretty blue eyes clouded with worry. “You’re home and so I thought something might be wrong.”
Naomi lived in the apartment two doors down. She worked nights and slept during the day.
“How did you know I was home?”
“I went down to the mailboxes and saw your car outside.” Naomi shrugged and walked into the small kitchen, helping herself to juice in the refrigerator. “Why are you home?”
Bridget could tell her about her day, unload all the weirdness. But Naomi was her breath of fresh air, the freshness about her always a treat after a long day. She didn’t want to worry her with her foolish thoughts, not to mention her tormented dreams of late.
She led the way into her bedroom, Naomi in tow with her glass of orange juice.
She gulped her juice and placed the empty glass on the dresser, smiling, her lips moist. “I got some chemicals on my clothes and decided to come home and change, put on something nice before going downtown.”
Naomi flopped down on Bridget’s bed, lying on her stomach while she kicked her shoes off and rested her chin in her hands. She watched while Bridget stripped out of her clothes to her lace bra and matching undies.
“You are so beautiful.” Naomi let out a heavy sigh. “I wish I was as pretty.”
Bridget sat down next to her friend, brushing the thick strands of hair away from her friend’s face. Her long thick braids needed to be redone. Naomi had come over right after waking up. Having known her friend since they were kids, growing up in the orphanage together, she knew Naomi rather well.
“You are absolutely gorgeous. Your inner soul glows. I can see it in your eyes.” Bridget stroked the coarse strawberry blonde hair. It was like raw silk.
“If anyone else heard you talking like that they would think you were crazy.” Naomi chuckled, straightening on the bed so she knelt next to her friend, their faces inches from each other.
“Do you think I’m crazy?” Maybe that would explain why her body burned for a man she’d never seen, why she was burning inside, a growing ache to be stroked, caressed, fondled by someone who was no more than part of her dreams.
“No.” Naomi sounded like she meant it, her tone soft and reassuring. She smiled, her blue eyes dancing. “It’s just not fair that men fall over trying to get to you.”
“I don’t see any men around.” Bridget made a show of looking around the room. But she took a moment to feel the room too, search it with her mind. Nothing like the sensations she’d experienced earlier at her shop or the orphanage hit her now. They were trul
y alone in the room.
Hell. Maybe she was nuts. Now she was considering the possibility of people being there who really weren’t there.
“There was a man downstairs earlier when I checked the mail,” Naomi told her. “He was the most perfect example of the gender I’ve ever seen. And of course, he wanted you.”
“Who was it?” Bridget couldn’t imagine why anyone would seek her out at her apartment complex.
“I’ve never seen him before.” Naomi shrugged, her light-colored lashes fanning over her soft blue eyes while her gaze dropped to the swell of Bridget’s breasts. “But he was so tall, so muscular, like a god. I mean, the way he spoke, asked about you, I could hardly do more than gawk at him. I swear, I’m sure I looked like an idiot trying to form words when all that was on my mind was if he had a big cock.”
Naomi burst into giggles, collapsing with Bridget on the bed. She dropped her head onto Bridget’s chest. Her breasts were already swollen, filled with the need to be played with and sucked on. Naomi’s warm breath caressed her skin, causing the flames of desire to burn with a fever deep inside her.
“You are so bad.” Bridget laughed with her friend, the true openness of their relationship making it easy to relax. “Did he say what he wanted? What did he look like?”
Maybe he was simply someone who wished to talk about her art. Strangers arrived from time to time to do that. She ran her hand through her friend’s hair.
Naomi lifted her face to Bridget’s, her smile making her blue eyes glow. “He was perfection, Bridget. I’m not kidding. I swear I came just looking at him.”
“No man is that perfect,” she scolded lovingly, but could tell Naomi meant every word.
“He had brown hair, thick and wavy, and kind of long—like an artist, you know?” Naomi ran her fingers through Bridget’s hair, her fingers tangling and gently tugging amidst the thick strands. “But he was way too muscular, almost like a wrestler or something. I could just tell he would be like touching steel, he was perfect I tell you…just perfect.”
Naomi fell back on the bed, making sounds like she was coming just talking about it. Bridget could feel her friend’s emotions. If she relaxed her eyes she swore she could see Naomi’s giddiness floating around her like a soft cloud.
“More than anything I wanted to fuck him. It’s been so long since I’ve had a good man. But no, he wanted Bridget.” Naomi’s mouth didn’t move this time, the smile remaining plastered on her lips.
It took a moment for Bridget to realize she was hearing Naomi’s thoughts. Her stomach revolted, a cramp searing through her. Naomi had been her dearest friend when the two of them were scared and alone in an orphanage where no one wanted little girls. They had slept together, listened to each other’s fears and tribulations. Hearing what her friend thought, whether pleasant or not, seemed a violation of the deepest kind.
She’d been able to get the person who wasn’t really there to leave her alone in her car. Maybe she could turn the thoughts off too.
No more thoughts. She made the command in her head with as much authority as she could muster, feeling half stupid but trying it anyway. If she was going insane, she might as well try to stay in control while she was doing it.
Dear Lord. What was she thinking?
Sighing, she said, “What did he want?”
“Huh?” Naomi raised her head, her eyes glazed over in a pool of lust. “Oh yeah. He wanted to know if I knew you. I love how he said your name…Bree-git…like there was no D. And when I told him I knew you, he wanted to know if I would take him to you. But I told him you weren’t here. I didn’t know that you were then.” Naomi shrugged, looking very apologetic.
“But he didn’t leave his name or what he wanted?”
Naomi frowned, her creamy white skin puckering between her eyes. “Yeah…his name is…let me think.” She scratched her head, further messing up her already tousled hair. “It was Blair. No. Brent. No. It was something strange.”
“Braze.” Bridget offered the name without thought.
Naomi looked up at her wide-eyed. “Yes. How did you know?”
“Naomi, that can’t be right.” But something inside Bridget affirmed that it was right, and her heart began racing at the thought.
“Do you already know him?” Naomi’s pretty blue eyes searched her face.
“Remember my dreams? Remember me telling you about the man I couldn’t see?” She hadn’t told her friend about her most recent dream, which had definitely been the most intense. Goose bumps broke out over her skin, an anxious shudder rushing through her. “Naomi. The man in my dreams is Braze.”
Naomi blinked. It didn’t register. “Well maybe that isn’t the right name,” she muttered, her expression suddenly more serious than it had been a second ago.
Naomi never had liked ghost stories, although somehow she didn’t think she was dealing with a ghost here. Nothing about any of this felt dead.
Bridget reached out, stroking her friend’s cheek, silently giving her the strength not to freak out on her. Naomi leaned against her friend’s hand.
“Did he say why he wanted to see me?” she asked quietly, intentionally keeping her tone calm, relaxed.
Naomi nestled her face against Bridget’s palm. “He said you wanted him.”
“I want him,” Bridget murmured, realizing after a moment she hadn’t made it a question.
Fire burned through her, need raising her body temperature, making her feel like one pulsating nerve ending. Naomi lay next to her, running her hand down her stomach. She glanced up at Bridget, her blue eyes a sensual gaze.
“There was something about him, girlfriend. I don’t know how to put it into words.” A blush crept over Naomi’s face, making her freckles stand out.
“Well, you are getting us both hot and bothered, so it’s probably a good thing you can’t think of better words.” Bridget ached to run her fingers between her legs, anything to soothe the throb that pulsated wildly there.
She admitted, though, the freakiness of the morning seemed to fade in contrast to her intense desire…no, call it curiosity, to meet this man Naomi had talked to. Coincidences happened all the time, but this seemed more than that. There was a reason why she dreamed of this man, why she had been tormented at the orphanage and in her car, and why this stranger had come to see her. And her pussy burned to know what that reason was.
“I think he has the power to do that,” Naomi whispered, sitting up, her face inches from Bridget’s. “He is like a sex god, or something, existing to make us so horny we will fall before him and beg him to fuck us.”
“It would be kind of cool to have my own sex god,” Bridget said, intending her comment to make light of the situation. Something told her that he might be a bit more dangerous than a powerful fuck buddy.
“Well, you better share.” Naomi pursed her lips, and then broke into giggles.
Her light outlook on life was always a breath of fresh air, and Bridget gave mental thanks that her friend had shown up when she did.
“Of course. We’ll call it a finder’s fee, right?” Bridget stood.
“So I can fuck him first?” Naomi crossed her legs on the bed, looking like an eager child excited to get the largest piece of cake.
Bridget found herself looking out her window onto the street outside. No one was on the sidewalk, the nasty fall weather sending everyone inside. Something compelled her to look a second time, strain to see beyond the view of her bedroom window.
“Neither one of us can fuck a man who isn’t here,” she murmured.
“But he was here earlier.” Naomi had moved to stand behind her, pulling the curtain back to take a look as well. “Do you think he is hanging around outside?”
Maybe Braze was some kind of sex god. The two of them were starving for cock while they stared at the quiet street below, searching for someone Bridget wasn’t even convinced really existed.
But Naomi had seen him.
The freezing rain had turned to a mist, causing a fog
to drift up from the cold ground. The tree limbs hung heavy with a fresh coat of ice, giving the world outside a mystic appeal. Normally such a view would entrance Bridget, call her to create. But at that moment, at the end of the block, a figure appeared that she would have sworn wasn’t there a minute ago.
Chapter Four
Braze stood in the falling mist, more aware of the biting cold than he realized. It served as a natural tool to soothe the fire burning inside him, feeding his cock, which bulged dangerously against the confines of his clothes.
Bridget studied him, and her sensual gaze made it hard for him to think straight. She was so natural, so untamed, prime for the plucking.
Although filled with his sperm thousands of years ago, he knew she was as fresh as an untried virgin, just as she had been the first time he’d plunged into her. They had been together for so many centuries, but her disappearance had lasted almost as many centuries. And he couldn’t wait to try that sweet cunt again. She had been reborn many times now and lived her life full without a man beside her. He was about to break that chain.
Her girlfriend had told Bridget about him, just as he’d instructed her to do. The redheaded girl didn’t realize she was being manipulated, and he’d done her no harm, but he had to get close to Bridget.
Word was on the street where she was. And the demons clogged this planet with their evil backstabbing ways. If they could eliminate Bridget, nothing would stop them from taking over.
The coven of Hedel, still intact although too ancient for its own good, also searched for Bridget. Her eternal youth and unleashed powers would give them the strength to grow, regain their powers, and once again possess the strength to rule a planet.
Braze had sent word to his contacts that this planet, Earth, wouldn’t be a good candidate to be ruled by the coven. They destroyed all that made them superstitious, that raised too many questions. But the coven of Hedel would be stubborn about that. He doubted they would pay heed to his message.
That left him one choice. Bridget had cast him out twice. But there would be no third time. Her powers were strong, but untamed. And he knew exactly how to use his powers.
Fallen Gods: Tainted Purity Page 4