A Haunted Romance (17 page)

“You might want to try to tap with the mayonnaise jar,” Trent suggested.

There was a pause, and then the jar lifted an inch off the counter and dropped. Once.

Chelsea let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. She wondered if it was Minerva or Dalton who had scared her brother away. It was her place now. She wasn’t sure why it was so important to her that she stay. Maybe it was pure stubbornness, and she just didn’t want to be chased out by Dalton. Trent had something to do with it too. He’d taken risks for her. Maybe she meant something to him more than a fun time and good old country hospitality. She wanted to find out. She would have run a long time ago if he hadn’t been there. Just his presence gave her courage.

“Should I publish your stories?”

One thump.

“Would that let you move on?”

Two thumps.

“What—what else can I do for you?”

It wasn’t a yes or no question, and there wasn’t an answer.

Trent’s arms wrapped around her again, but this time it wasn’t mere comfort. His hands slid up inside her shirt, cupping her breasts. Chelsea blushed and tried to twist in his grasp. “Trent! Minerva’s watching.”

“I don’t think she minds,” Trent said calmly.

She couldn’t deny that Trent’s hands felt good. Was he trying to get her kicked out of her own house? “Trent!” she said warningly.

“Minerva, should we continue?” asked Trent.

The mayonnaise jar thumped hard, once. Chelsea watched as a crack appeared, running from the bottom to halfway up the jar. At least it hadn’t sprayed any more glass. And she could have thumped the jar again, if she meant no.

Trent let her turn around this time and then trapped her mouth with a kiss. His tongue swirled with hers. He held her with one firm arm, and the other was undoing her buttons. He had her half undressed by the time their lips separated.

“Why?”

Trent met her gaze. “Because I love you, and I want you, and because you are an incredibly sexy woman.”

If that was just a line, he was an incredibly good liar.
He loves me
. “But Minerva—”

“You’ll have lots of time to talk. But Minerva likes to watch.”

Chelsea thought of asking Minerva if that was true, but she didn’t really want mayo all over her counter. “How do you know?”

“Remember the sex toy left in your bed? I didn’t do that. Dalton didn’t do it. So Minerva did it, and no doubt enjoyed the results. Besides, I have no intention of keeping my hands off you unless it’s you who wants them off.”

“I like your hands fine.”
That’s the understatement of the year.

Trent grinned.

She wasn’t at all sure about the audience, but Trent was pulling her shirt off her shoulders. Her bra came next. His strong physical presence commanded her attention, ghost or no ghost. She supposed Minerva had seen it all, anyway. Her alone; her with Trent; Aunt Pat with Joann.

Then Trent kissed her again. He lifted her and set her on the counter, right next to the jar, and pulled her jeans and panties off.

“I think Minerva wants to see you naked too, Trent.”

“And you?”

She met his gaze. She wasn’t going to be able to get away with blaming things on the ghost. “I do too,” she admitted.

“Well then. Your wish is my command.” He lifted a foot to start taking off his shoes.

“I thought that was my line.”

He grinned. “That’s right. It is. And don’t you forget it. Watch.”

That command was easy to follow. She watched as he pulled his shirt over his head and revealed his muscled chest and his well-defined abs. He unzipped his pants and pulled them off. His cock was hard, thick, and pointing straight at her. “Yummy.”

Trent looked chagrined, obviously just remembering something. “The only problem is that I didn’t bring a condom to investigate a haunted house.”

“That’s okay.”
I don’t need you to have one for what I want to do right now. It’d just be in the way
. She grinned.
Looks like I’ll be taking charge a little after all.

“It is
not
okay.”

She slipped off the counter and went to her knees in front of him. “Never did like the taste of latex, anyway.” Not that she’d ever really tried. She wrapped her hand around his cock as well as she could, not quite able to make her fingers meet her thumbs. She’d never thought of her hand as dainty before, but now it definitely felt small.

“Suck it,” said Trent. She looked up at him, a bit surprised he was telling her what to do so directly. Part of her wanted to tell him he was being a jerk, but her body said differently. Judging from the way her insides went liquid, she didn’t mind him ordering her what to do one bit. Besides, he was only making her to do what she clearly intended anyway.

She slid her lips around his cock, taking as much of him as she could into her mouth, inch by inch, and then slowly drew back. She kissed the tip of him before she let him all in again, moving as slowly as she could manage. She reached up and gently fondled his ball sac, enjoying the different textures of his genitals.

Trent growled and gathered some of her hair in his fist. “Tease. God, Chelsea, that feels so good, I’m going to explode if you keep that up.”

Chelsea grinned up at him, her hand still grasping his cock firmly. “I don’t think either of us girls minds that, Trent.” She pumped him up and down with her fist and heard the mayonnaise jar shatter behind her. She hadn’t even formed it as a question.

“I’m being ganged up on by two women, and one of them isn’t even a—Ahhhhhhh.” Whatever Trent had been about to say was forgotten as Chelsea pressed her chest forward and pulled his cock into the valley between her breasts. Rubbing one hand against the top of his cock, undulating her body to create some more friction, she looked up at him with a mischievous smile. She could feel the tenseness in his body. He was right on the edge. She licked a drop of precum from the head of his cock as it poked forward.

A scene from one of Minerva’s books gave her an idea. She brought her other hand up to her mouth and made a show of sucking on her finger, wetting it with her tongue. She moved her other hand slower, holding off his moment. He growled at her. Being in control with him was a new experience, and while she enjoyed him at his most demanding, it was a fun change. She reached around him, pulled at his cheeks, and pushed her moistened finger a half inch into his ass, speeding up the tempo with her other hand at the same time.

It had exactly the intended effect.

His cock erupted, spurting onto her neck and shoulders. Inspired by the thought of both of them watching, she pushed her breasts up and licked some of his cum off one. Another hot squirt caught her on the side of the cheek as she did.

God, I’m a mess
. She laughed at the primitive pleasure of it.

He knelt down and pushed her gently back against the floor, pulling her knees apart. She didn’t resist. He thrust two fingers deep inside her, curling to stroke her G-spot even as his thumb rubbed against the hood of her clit. She moaned. He reached up to pinch a nipple, already engorged and stiff, sending sparks straight to her pussy. She’d never come easily, but he had her ready to go in mere seconds.

He stopped.

She looked at him, wide-eyed, as he held his fingers still. He licked her lips with his tongue, and when her lips parted for him, he kissed her. He invaded her deeply with his tongue. She wiggled her hips, trying to get friction. He shook his head. “You’ll come when I decide, Chelsea.”

And she’d thought she might be in control for a few seconds. His words only made her want him more.

He started to move his fingers again, his thumb having teased her clit from beneath its sheath, rubbing it directly now. It was almost too much. If he’d been rubbing her like before she would have come straightaway, but he was missing her G-spot—deliberately, she thought. Still the hard motions of his fingers, pushing deep inside her, the rubbing on her tender clit made her moan.

He stopped again, taking his fingers all the way out this time. She could only watch as he licked her juices off each finger as if he was in no hurry at all. And he wasn’t, damn him. She was half tempted to make herself come, but he wouldn’t like that. He was enjoying this far too much. He was putting on a show for Minerva too, she realized, but it was more than that. His gaze never left her, and he wasn’t asking any questions. She was his main concern, and that was all she needed to know. He’d make her come, eventually. It was so hard to trust, when she was right on the edge like that. She certainly couldn’t have trusted anyone but him.

“I’m all yours,” she murmured.

He slid his fingers into her pussy as he bent over and licked her clit once, firmly. Her body responded, pulsing and squeezing around him as every nerve wrapped up inside her seemed to let go all at once. Her hips arched to take his fingers deeper inside. Both tongue and fingers had found just the right place, and she just kept coming and coming.

“That’s right, lover,” he told her. “Good girl.”

Catching her breath, she collapsed against the floor, barely registering how cold it was against her back. She didn’t have to lie there long, anyway. He picked her up, and held her in his lap. He was so big, so strong, so warm. All thoughts of putting on a show for the ghost had vanished. There was just her and him, pressed up so close, skin to skin.

Someone knocked at the door.

Chelsea sighed. “I better get that. Only one person it’s likely to be, really.” She pulled on her pants and shirt quickly, tossing her bra and panties to the side. The jeans felt strange flush against her skin, but she was impatient to get to the door—and she felt a bit naughty about leaving her underwear on the floor.

Trent pulled his clothes on too. “Wait.”

“Hmm?”

He reached out and wiped her cheek with his hand, and she remembered the mess they’d made. She looked at the shirt and buttoned it up an extra button. “Thanks.”

He grinned. “My pleasure. I’ll be there for backup if you need me, Chelsea.”

She walked through the living room and opened the door. Sure enough, it was Dalton.

“Chelsea!” He said her name as if she was his long-lost friend.

“Dalton. Hey.” She didn’t move out of the middle of the door. “What’s up?”

“I’ve been thinking, Chelsea, and—well, I worried about you after the séance, and you staying in that dangerous house, and all.”

Chelsea nodded, trying to seem agreeable. “Falling chandeliers, meat cleavers.”

“Yes,” said Dalton. Then his face changed. “What? What happened?”

“Oh, the chandelier fell down.”

“That’s horrible,” said Dalton. “You’ve got to get out of here, Chelsea, before you’re killed.”

“It’s nice of you to care so much about me.”

Dalton nodded. “I do care. And that’s why…” He fished in his pocket and pulled out a jewelry box. He flipped it open even as he sank to one knee. The diamond ring inside it glittered. “Will you marry me, Chelsea? We can leave this place together and enjoy ourselves, happily ever after.”

Chelsea swung her open palm, catching him hard on the cheek and sending him rocking. The box went flying, dumping the ring into a nearby bush.

“The chandelier was sawed halfway through, you ass. The moaning? Came from an MP3 player hidden in the wall you patched. The medium you hired was a fake, as you probably knew. Marry you?” Chelsea burst out laughing.

Dalton turned red and scrambled to his feet, rubbing his jaw.

“What else is there? Did you put in a magnet to hold the cleaver to the ceiling? Did you leave it up to chance whether it fell when I was nearby or actually had my neck under the thing?”

“I didn’t mean to hurt anyone,” said Dalton, backing up.

“Maybe, but you were willing to take that chance, weren’t you? How’d the door work, Dalton? Huh?” She took a step toward him. He was taller and bigger and stronger than her, but she wanted to show him she wasn’t afraid of him or his tricks.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Stupid bitch.” He stopped backing up and glared at her. “I could have been rich, if you’d just been a little more willing to play along. Your brother would have sold the place had your lezzy aunt not written up such a crazy will.”

“My brother was never meant to inherit the property. The real ghost scared him away, as Pat knew it would.” She was guessing, but she was pretty sure she was right.

“There is no real ghost, Chelsea. It was all me.”

Chelsea smiled and decided to see if he would explain more if she pushed. To put his plan into action, he had to be more than just greedy. He had to have been in love with his own cleverness. “You didn’t do the door slamming. There was no way.”

“That was an electromagnet and a remote control. I used it to swing the door open once too. It wasn’t strong enough to push the door when it was closed, though.”

“Is that how you did the trick with the cleaver? Just missed me, by the way.”

“Yeah.”

“And the scream, the first night?”

“Another MP3 player.”

“And you pulled the attic stairs on yourself.”

“You’ve got it. And if Trent hadn’t been pulling some sort of stunt at the séance, there would have been just one set of answers.” Dalton looked like he’d come to some sort of conclusion. He reached out and grabbed her arm, yanking him to her. “I’m sorry, Chelsea, because I really didn’t want you to get hurt. But at this point you know just a little too much, and I’m not reading you to be the forgive-and-forget type, so this has to end, one way or the other.”

Apparently she’d pushed too far. What was he going to do with her? Her heart raced, and her skin suddenly felt cold and clammy. He spun her around and grabbed her around the waist. She elbowed him, hard, but his grip on her only tightened. He dragged her back toward his SUV.

“Trent! Help!” she called before Dalton put a hand over her mouth. She bit it, and he cursed. No one came out of the door. She couldn’t imagine what could be keeping him.

Then Dalton let her go and slumped to the ground. Trent was standing behind him, having just come out from behind the SUV.

“Would have been more satisfying face-to-face,” Trent said, “but I was afraid he’d pull a gun.” He pulled Dalton’s jacket open. The man was barely conscious, and he made a weak attempt to grab Trent’s arm but failed. There was a revolver under the jacket, sure enough. Trent took it out and emptied the chambers, letting the bullets fall to the ground.