Eric slipped his hand between her legs and cupped her mound. “I didn’t hear any complaints last night.”
“If you’ll recall, my mouth was occupied a lot of the time last night, so I couldn’t talk.”
“Oh, man,” Keith groaned, “I’m getting a hard-on.”
“Yeah, and Brenna’s getting wet,” Eric said, sliding his fingers farther between her legs.
“Hey, Brenna, wanna fool around in the backseat?”
“Not while I’m driving down I-5, Keith,” Eric said.
“You’re a party pooper, my friend.”
Brenna chuckled at their banter. Only really good friends could joke about what the three of them had experienced. It had been wild and wonderful, and she’d enjoyed it thoroughly. But it wouldn’t happen again, despite Keith’s teasing offer that she join him in the backseat. One ménage a trois in her lifetime was enough. She only wanted Eric.
From the motion of the car, Brenna could tell they’d turned. Eric slowed, then stopped. “We’re here. Open your eyes, sweetheart.”
Brenna did. She looked out the windshield at the beautiful Tudor house she’d fallen in love with a year ago. Not understanding why they were sitting in the driveway of someone else’s house, Brenna looked at Eric. He was smiling.
“What’s going on?”
“That’s your wedding present,” he said softly.
It took several moments for his words to sink in. He couldn’t possibly mean… “Wedding present?” she whispered.
Eric nodded. “It came on the market Friday. I’ve already made an offer to the owners and they accepted it. All that’s left is the paperwork.”
Brenna remained still, not quite believing the words coming out of Eric’s mouth. This beautiful house, the one she’d dreamed about despite loving the small one she’d finally bought, was about to be theirs? “Eric, are you teasing me? This is really mean if you’re teasing me.”
He shook his head. “I wouldn’t tease about something I know is so important to you.”
“We can go inside?”
“The owners went to visit some friends in Eastern Washington. Penny’s inside, ready to give us a tour.”
Tears welled up in her eyes. She didn’t know what she’d ever done to deserve a man who loved her so much. “I don’t believe you did this.”
“Believe it.” He took one of her hands, raised it to his mouth, and kissed her palm. “Let’s go look at our house.”
Her mind still a jumble, Brenna let Eric help her from his car and lead her toward the front door. Keith walked next to her, his hands loose at his sides.
“How much land comes with the house, Eric?” he asked.
“Three acres.”
“Great view of the water.”
“The view from the backyard is even better. We’ll be able to see Mount Rainier on a clear day.”
They walked through the front entrance. The foyer was cool, but well lit with natural light from the window above the front door. Brenna looked around with wide eyes. She couldn’t believe this gorgeous house would belong to her and Eric in a short while. A wide, curving staircase directly in front of them led upstairs. To the left, she could see the large living room, complete with a rock fireplace that took up a huge portion of one wall. Two steps led down to the den on the right.
She wanted to see every inch of it.
“I thought I heard someone drive up.”
Eric turned at the sound of Penny’s voice. She came through the kitchen door at the end of the hall, a smile on her face. “Hey, Pen. Ready to give us a tour?”
“You bet.” She smiled at Brenna. “Surprised?”
“Shocked is a better word.”
“It’s a beautiful house, and in perfect condition.”
Eric chuckled. “You don’t have to give us the sales pitch, Penny. It’s a done deal.”
Keith cleared his throat. Loudly. “Aren’t you going to introduce us, Eric?”
Eric watched Penny’s gaze shift to Keith. Her eyes widened in what he’d call appreciation…or downright lust. He understood that. Keith wasn’t his type, but Eric knew Keith was a handsome guy.
Turning his attention to Keith, he saw the same look of appreciation and lust in his friend’s eyes. Eric understood that, too. While he and Penny were only very good friends, he recognized her beauty. She wore a blue sweater and matching slacks that showed off her voluptuous figure. With her natural long blonde hair, large breasts, full hips, and killer legs, she drew the attention of many men.
“Keith, this is Penny Sorenson, my best agent. Penny, Keith Dillard, my best bud from college.”
Penny stepped forward and offered her hand. “It’s a pleasure, Keith.”
Keith took her hand. “For me, too.” Instead of shaking it, he lifted it to his mouth and kissed the back.
Eric could see Penny’s eyes go all unfocused. Fighting a grin, he looked at Brenna. She was biting her lower lip and her eyes sparkled with laughter.
“I’m gonna show Brenna the kitchen,” Eric said, although he doubted if Penny or Keith heard him. “You two get acquainted.”
Neither of them said anything; they just stared at each other. Eric took Brenna’s hand and led her into the kitchen. Once inside the room, they both started laughing.
“Did you see the way he looked at her?” Brenna asked.
“Yeah, the same way she looked at him. I wouldn’t have been surprised if they’d started tearing each other’s clothes off right there in the foyer.”
“There were definitely sparks in the air.”
Keith stuck his head around the swinging door. “Hey, Eric, HHeyPenny invited me out for coffee. She said the keys are on the cabinet by the stove, and lock up when you leave.”
“Sure, no problem. We’ll wait for you.”
“Uh, you don’t have to do that. Penny will give me a ride back to your place. Later.” He grinned. “Maybe much later.”
“Do you mean you’ve already recuperated from last night?” Brenna asked.
“I’m a fast healer.”
“Be careful with her, man,” Eric said. “She’s a special lady.”
“I knew that the moment I saw her.” He waved. “Bye.”
Once he’d left, Eric turned his attention back to Brenna. She stood in the middle of the kitchen, looking around the spacious room with such happiness on her face, it almost took his breath. “You like it?”
“I love it. Oh, Eric, it’s perfect. Are these cabinets ash?”
“I think that’s what Penny said. We could’ve gotten all the information from her if she hadn’t run off with Keith.”
“We’ll get all the information later. Right now, I just want to absorb everything. Is the rest of the house as wonderful as the kitchen?”
He nodded. “Wait until you see the master bedroom. It has an incredible view of the mountain and inlet.”
That sultry, sexy look he loved filled her eyes. “Master bedroom, hmm? Are you referring to an…initiation?”
He wasn’t, but now that she mentioned it… “Aren’t you still sore?”
“Like Keith, I’m a fast healer.”
“It’d be rude to make out in the bedroom until the house is ours.”
She sauntered toward him. “We wouldn’t use their bed. That would be rude.”
“So you’re suggesting, maybe the carpet?”
“Or the wall.”
Eric grinned. “I do love the way you think.”
Brenna returned his grin. “I’ll race you up the stairs.”
The End
Saving Sarah
Michele R. Bardsley
Chapter One
“Raped?” Therapist Annie Miller stared at the man on the other side of her desk. “How long ago?”
“Almost a year.” He ran restless fingers through his shaggy blond hair. He looked exhausted, but more than that, he looked like he was skirting the edge of hopelessness.
Oh no. She would have none of that.
“Two weeks af
ter our anniversary, in April last year. I had to attend one of those inane business cocktail parties and she didn’t want to go. I always check the locks, the windows, but I was late, in a hurry. And she never remembers to do that stuff. We lived in a safe neighborhood.” He rubbed his face with both hands as if doing so would scrub away his self-recrimination.
“Have you and she had sexual intercourse?”
“No. Sometimes I do oral for her, but I’ve never asked or expected her to reciprocate. I won’t lie, Ms. Miller. I miss making love to my wife. She used to be fearless, you know?” He shook his head. “I love Sarah more than my next breath, but she’s slipping away from me.”
Annie picked up the folder on her desk and opened it. “I’m not sure what I can do for you, Ben. Sarah should be the one sitting in that chair.”
“She’s been to doctors, therapists, psychologists, and shit…even a voodoo priestess. She knows something is wrong and she’s tried to fix it, but she can’t. She’s been lost to me ever since those bastards—” His fists clenched. He took a deep breath and settled into the leather wingback. “The rapists were caught and they were put into prison for life. She had a scare earlier this year when one of them escaped. He was shot and killed by police—on Valentine’s Day. Can you believe it? That asshole died on a day that celebrates romance and love. Ironic as hell.”
“Indeed.” Annie looked at the desk, assessing its neatness, trying not to focus on the personal tragedy that had unfolded for her on that day as well.
“They can’t ever hurt her again, but every time I touch her…she sees them.” Despair rimmed his gaze. “In her heart, she knows it’s me, but in her head—it’s like her mind keeps playing the same movie over and over again. They didn’t just violate her body. They murdered her soul.”
“I’ve heard enough, dear boy.” She stood and tossed the folder to the desk. “There is a place that might help your wife recover, but you have to agree to the terms. It’s an unusual therapy.”
His wary gaze assessed the business card she handed to him. “Dunley’s Beach Resort?” He frowned. “This is a clinic?”
“No. It’s a beach resort.”
Annie rounded the desk and stood in front of Ben Slatterly, leaning a hip against her desk. “You must send Sarah to the resort alone for five days. After two days have passed, you will join her. When you arrive, you will be asked to participate in her…sessions. Do this without doubt or hesitation or judgment.”
“What the hell are we talking about?”
“Healing, Ben. And one last chance to save your wife.”
* * * * *
After Ben left the office, Annie pressed a button under her desk and watched the far wall slide open. She crossed the room briskly, intently, and the moment she cleared the entryway, the door swished shut behind her. The room was small, lit only by special-made candles of sage, rosemary, cinnamon and other herbs and spices. On one wall was her altar to the Goddess. It was made from driftwood, carved with intricate signs and pictographs; it had been passed down from mother to daughter since the 1700s, when her family once lived in a town named Salem and her ancestor had swung from the gallows, branded a servant of Satan.
The people of Salem had not been the first to condemn and kill one of her family members for witchcraft. There had been others, including the greedy priests of the Inquisition in the 1400s. Annie had always been amazed at the fortitude and determination of her ancestors to pass the knowledge and wisdom of ancient times down through the ages. In each generation, her family’s magic matured and strengthened and, with Annie, the gifts bestowed were great, indeed. The Goddess had blessed her beyond measure…and given her a solitary, sometimes too heavy, burden.
She turned to the wall opposite the altar. From ceiling to floor, every inch of space was covered by a wooden shelving system that looked much like post office mailboxes. Each space was one foot by one foot, doorless, labeled by last name, and all held boxes made of rosewood.
The one she wanted was easy to find, and she plucked it from its slot and opened the lid. Inside was a vial of ashes, a rolled vellum paper, and a gold locket.
“Dunley.”
He appeared in the blink of an eye, floating a few inches above the floor, his form as see-through as a dusty window. He was tall and handsome with longish brown hair and soulful brown eyes. Annie smiled. Dunley was not as tender as his gaze and lazy stance indicated.
“How are you, Dunley?”
“Limbo is lovely this time of year.”
She laughed. “It is time to earn your freedom.”
He straightened, a bright hope flaring in his eyes. “You will give the locket to my mother? And release my ashes?”
“Yes. If you succeed with the task I give you.”
“Have I failed you yet?”
“Only once.”
“Annie—”
She shook her head, refusing the memories that threatened. “You were sent here, to me, for redemption. You were given the choice—”
“Hell or slave to your whims?”
“There is no such thing as hell.”
“But there is Limbo, isn’t there? And it is worse than fire and brimstone.” He shook his head, sighed. “I never meant to hurt your daughter, Annie.”
“She chose her own path. I do not blame you for her attempted suicide. She is not why you are here.”
“I know.” He looked uncertain then shrugged, as if he had nothing to lose by speaking his thoughts. “How is Titania?”
“She has not yet recovered.”
“How much time has passed?”
“Almost two months.” Annie swallowed the knot of grief threatening to choke her. She tried not to remember Dunley’s callousness toward her daughter, the way he’d scorned the college student’s affections. When Dunley’s soul was given to her, he confessed that he’d been drinking heavily and rammed his car into a tree at ninety miles an hour. Both he and his passenger were killed instantly.
The day Dunley died—Titania slit her wrists.
Annie believed that it wasn’t so much Dunley’s sudden death, but the fact that his passenger and new lover had been Titania’s best friend, Miranda. The deaths of two people she loved, and their double betrayal, was more than Ti’s sensitive soul could bear.
Because Dunley had earned his redemption by helping others these past two months, he had also earned Annie’s forgiveness. She had refused to tell him anything about Ti…until now. “She is well cared for at the institute. She will eat, she will sit in the sunshine, and she will allow me to hug her goodbye. But she doesn’t speak—she doesn’t look at me. She is empty inside. My daughter is the one who truly knows the bounds of hell.”
An uncomfortable silence fell between them. When Dunley looked as if he might apologize—as he had done since the day his soul was sent to her—Annie turned to the altar and started preparations for Dunley’s temporary transformation.
With her magic, he’d be able to solidify, or turn invisible but only for three days. If he did his task well, Sarah Slatterly would find healing and hope. Then Annie would release her daughter’s former lover into the Light and maybe, just maybe, Titania would begin her own journey back to the living.
“You have three days, Dunley. Help Ben Slatterly save his wife…and you’ll save yourself as well.”
Chapter Two
Sarah Slatterly trudged up the beach to the weather-beaten steps of the Victorian three-story house. A crooked sign above the door proclaimed “Dunley’s Beach Resort”. She dropped her suitcases; they thunked to the porch. Turning, she watched the dinghy row out to the yacht that had transported her to the tiny island off the California coast.
Ben had given her this retreat for their tenth anniversary. When she thought about the way they had celebrated their last nine anniversaries…a smile ghosted her lips. She loved him so much, but no matter how many times she tried to recapture their lovemaking, she panicked. The idea of sucking his cock or of letting it ram into her…no!
&
nbsp; Calm down.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Sarah sucked in a few more relaxing breaths, then picked up her suitcases and entered the house turned beach resort. To her right was a staircase, in front of her a long hallway, and to the left a small check-in counter. Her gaze continued left and spotted a nook with three floor-to-ceiling windows. She noted the two pear-green loveseats facing each other and the oblong cherrywood table between them. That seating area offered the only furniture—or any other objects—in the lobby. It was sparse, clean, and smelled strongly of lemon with teasing hints of cinnamon. She loved the simplicity of it all.
A big black woman behind the check-in counter waited for her. Her bright white smile was cheerful and reached the twinkling brown of her eyes. Her corn-rowed hair framed an apple-cheeked face with a brownie-dark complexion. A beautiful pink dress artfully draped her girth. She moved with an ease and grace that spoke of a woman comfortable with her size and with herself.
“Welcome, Sarah,” she said, her voice tinged with an accent Sarah could only guess at. Jamaican, maybe? “We’ve been waiting for you.”
Instantly comfortable, Sarah approached the counter and once again dropped her suitcases. “It’s so quiet here. And beautiful.”
“Just what a soul needs, isn’t it?” The woman held out an oversized gold key. “My name is Rowena. Please call me if you need anything.”
“Thank you, Rowena.” Sarah took the key, and laughed. “I don’t suppose there really is a Dunley, is there?”
“Oh yes. He’s hangin‘ around somewhere. You’ll meet him soon enough.”
Sarah felt a strange excitement whisper through her, but she pushed it away. She didn’t care to meet Dunley or any other man for that matter. The only one she trusted was Ben and even he paid the price for the terror that lived inside her.
“Leave your bags, miss. Our bellboy will take them up.” Rowena made shooing motions. “You go on to your room and enjoy the refreshments and the view. Take a nap.”
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