by Мишель Роуэн
Her imagination was obviously working overtime. She wasn’t a mind reader.
A surge of emotion flowed through her at the feel of his mouth on hers, his hands rubbing her ass and pulling her up closer against his arousal. His muscles tensed as she broke off the kiss and moved her lips down his throat. She moved her hand from the evidence of his desire to pull at his gray T-shirt, lifting it to bare his tanned, muscled chest. He raised his arms, wordlessly, so she could remove the shirt completely. She ran her fingernails down his hot, smooth skin and then drew closer so she could lick a wet stroke of her tongue across his left nipple.
His fingers dug deeply into her sides. “Amanda”.
The urgency with which he said her name brought her slightly out of her aroused daze. She took a sharp breath, surrounded by the delicious scent of him, still tasting him on her lips and tongue. She wanted more.
A slow realization came over her. This was Jacob Caine. She didn’t want to spend time with him, didn’t want to get assigned as his partner. She’d resisted this with every fiber in her being.
If that was so, then why was she groping him like a drunken woman at last call?
Her mind cleared a little, enough for her to feel a cold sliver of embarrassment. She looked up at him to see there was only desire in his eyes that had darkened significantly.
“It’s the clock, isn’t it?” she managed, a level of clarity coming into her mind.
“What?”
“It’s cursed. That’s what Catherine was trying to tell me. It’s making us do things we wouldn’t normally do. Making us lose control.”
He blinked. “Do you really think so?”
“Yes. We need to get out of this room before something really bad happens.”
“Okay.” His jaw tensed. “Although I have to admit, I don’t think I can move at the moment.”
She breathed in, immediately distracted as her senses filled again with Jacob. His hot, spicy scent, the taste of him on her lips, her body tingling where he’d touched her, the achingly raspy sound of his voice, the dark look of desire in his eyes. And his body…even with his shirt on she’d known that he was an incredible-looking man. Without it…well, she was at a loss to describe how devastatingly attractive she found him. It sounded like a cliché, but he made her knees weaken.
So that was five senses.
What about the other one?
Her sixth sense was what had gotten them in trouble in the first place.
He released her as if it took a great deal of concentration on his part. “We’re not thinking straight. You’re right. This must be a spell.”
The moment he let go of her she felt bereft. Being close to Jacob, feeling his skin against hers, seemed too necessary and addictive.
She needed him. Catherine had been right. She wanted him to make love to her so badly she could barely think straight.
“We need to go,” she said firmly. “Now.”
He nodded in agreement, but instead of moving toward the door, he kissed her again, his hands boldly moving down to cup her breasts through her thin sweater a moment before he pulled the cashmere garment off her completely.
“I don’t think I can stop this,” he said, frowning hard.
Neither could she. Her desire for Jacob at the moment was much too powerful to resist.
“The ghosts said the clock made them lose control.” She gasped as he slipped his warm hands under the shoulder straps of her bra to pull them down, baring her breasts. Another gasp when he lowered his mouth and captured her right nipple to suckle on the hard, sensitive pink tip. Desire pooled between her legs, and she had to clutch at his shoulders to stay on her feet.
She felt his hands move to the middle of her back and he unclasped the bra so that it fell to her feet.
She knew she had to stop this, but…well, she didn’t really want to. The erotic sensations Jacob gave her were stronger than anything she’d ever felt before. It was as if she’d stuck her finger in a light socket. Only, instead of pain—like the shock wave that came off the clock at midnight—there was nothing but pleasure. She couldn’t pull away.
It’s not as if she’d never imagined what it would be like to be with Jacob. It was impossible to ignore how attractive he was and how charming he could be—when he wanted to be. Every other woman who crossed his path found him irresistible, why would she be any different?
But this was different.
Jacob let out a dark groan that made things low in her body twist with need. She felt his shoulders tense. He dragged himself back from her, though his hands stayed on her breasts as if they were magnetized.
“This is some sort of spell?” he asked.
“Wasn’t sure you heard that,” she said, finding it hard to concentrate on anything other than his thumbs now circling her very sensitive nipples.
“I was trying to ignore it.” His eyes focused on her mouth but instead of making her feel self-conscious, it made her badly want to kiss him again. “You’re sure that’s what this is? Some kind of magic?”
“What other explanation do we have? It must be a magical trap that’s trying to keep us here. Maybe something bad will happen if we can’t stop this.”
“Then we need to get out of here.”
“We do.”
“I’m going.”
“Okay.”
His muscles tightened. “Watch me go.”
“I’m watching.”
With what seemed to be a monumental effort, he released her and pushed away, averting his gaze from her flushed, half-naked body as he stormed toward the door. The veins stood out on his arms from the effort he put forth, every muscle in his biceps and back tensed. She noticed he had a tattoo on his right shoulder blade—an intricate Celtic knot design in black ink. He grabbed the door handle and turned it. Then he used two hands and rattled the door.
He looked over his shoulder. “It’s locked.”
She grabbed her discarded sweater from the floor and covered her breasts with it, feeling a fraction more centered and in control with him all the way on the other side of the room. “Break it open, then.”
He took a couple of steps back and then kicked the door. It didn’t budge. He kicked it again.
No result.
Then he looked at her. “I think we might be trapped in here at the moment.”
Instead of being upset at the idea, she felt a warm thrill go through her at the prospect of being trapped in a bedroom with Jacob.
She so wasn’t thinking straight.
He was breathing faster now, his chest moving in and out as his gaze traveled the length of her. “I need to warn you that I’m not exactly feeling in control of myself here.”
“You and me both.”
He stalked toward her and she braced herself, expecting him to kiss her again, actually hoping he would. Instead, he breezed past her toward a small table where there was a heavy brass candle holder. He grabbed hold of it.
“What are you doing?” Amanda asked.
“Preventive measures.” He handed the object to her.
“For what?”
He stood in front of her looking as serious as she’d ever seen him, his lean, muscled chest going in and out with his labored breathing. “You need to knock me out.”
Her eyebrows went up at that. “I need to what?”
“Bash me on the head. Knock me unconscious. Then you’ll be safe.”
“I’m not safe?”
His jaw was tight. “I can’t control myself much longer. I don’t want to do anything I’m going to regret.”
That statement took her by surprise, and she felt a strange surge of disappointment. “I see. You have enough women in your little black book and you don’t want to add my name to the list?”
He just stared at her for a moment. “That’s not exactly what I meant.”
“What then?”
He exhaled and there was a sheen of perspiration on his forehead now. “I don’t want to force myself on you. I feel an overwhelming
compulsion to throw you on that bed over there and take you fast and hard. It’s close to uncontrollable. If I kiss you again, I won’t be able to stop myself. Knock me out while you have the chance.”
She tried to process what he was saying. He was trying to be a gentleman? Mr. Lothario I’ll-sleep-with-anybody? If she’d been feeling one hundred percent herself, she probably would have rolled her eyes or laughed. But she wasn’t.
“Do it,” he urged.
She placed the candle holder back on the table.
“Amanda…” His voice held an edge of warning.
“I know,” she said. “You don’t want to force me to do anything.”
“The way I’m feeling—”
“The thing is, I feel that way, too.” She dropped the protective covering of her sweater and reached down to take one of his clenched fists in her hand. She brought it slowly to her lips and kissed it. When he unclenched it she slid his index finger into her mouth and then repeated the movement on his middle finger. The look on his face, a visible shattering of that control he’d tried to maintain, was definitely what she was aiming for.
She guided his other hand to her breast. His touch sent an erotic shiver through her body.
She went up on her tiptoes, pressed her mouth against his and pushed away any thoughts that she was doing anything wrong. How could something that felt this right be wrong?
“The clock,” he murmured against her lips.
“Later,” she replied.
“This isn’t real.”
“I know.” She kissed him again and he finally stopped resisting. She touched his skin, so hot it felt as if it was on fire, burning him up from the inside. “But I need you inside of me now.”
He actually growled at that and pulled her against him, flattening her breasts against his chest. The next kiss was harder, deeper, sweeping any remaining thoughts away but one.
This was what happened to Catherine and Nathan, she thought. This overwhelming passion. They’d been unable to resist its pull. And after giving in to that passion they’d been cursed to haunt the house where they’d died.
But then there were no more thoughts, only the sensation of Jacob’s hands on her, leaving scorching lines on her skin that made her arch against him.
She undid her jeans so he could help slide them down her thighs. He kneeled in front of her, kissing her sensitive skin and then licked a line over the front of her panties that made her gasp out loud. Jacob stroked his fingers against the damp silk, back and forth, the thin material the only barrier between them.
“You want me,” he stated the obvious.
“Yes,” she affirmed. “Please.”
He stood up and directed her backward toward the bed where she lay down on the soft mattress. He slipped his fingers under the top edge of her panties to slide against her clit. She gripped his wrist, but not to stop him, just to have something to hold on to. Her hips began to move against his intimate touch.
“Do you like this?” he asked.
She nodded, unable to speak at the moment, just feel. And the feel of Jacob touching her as he only had in her personal fantasies was enough to render her speechless.
She wasn’t sure what happened to her panties, but they were gone. She was naked with Jacob’s hand firmly between her thighs. She looked over at the clock. It had stopped keeping time, staying at midnight exactly.
“You feel so good,” Jacob said, and his voice was harsh with need as he leaned over to capture her mouth with his. “You’re so wet.”
She could still barely speak. “I want you.”
His mouth brushed over hers. “I’ve wanted you from the first moment I saw you.”
She heard the soft sound of a zipper. She propped herself up enough to help him pull his jeans down over his thighs. The sight of his hard length made a quiver of anticipation move through her. He pushed her legs wider apart and moved between them.
She brought her hands around to his ass and pulled him closer to her, moving her hips up and down so the tip of his erection slid against her damp flesh, over and over.
“Amanda,” he managed. “You’re killing me. Please…not yet.”
And then, with shaking hands, he was fiddling with something. He’d retrieved a condom from his wallet, his jeans still caught around his knees, and he quickly sheathed himself with it.
“Cursed but responsible,” she observed.
“That’s me.” He managed a small grin that disappeared as soon as it appeared. “Amanda…I can still try to stop this. If you don’t want to—”
“I want to. Trust me on that.” She brought his mouth down to hers to quiet him, and only a moment later, she felt him push against her, stretching her as he slowly entered her. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he buried himself all the way inside of her.
She knew he was trying to be controlled, but there was no control anymore for them. The stroke of midnight had taken their inhibitions away. Made them desire each other so much that nothing could stop this. She couldn’t keep her hands off him even if she wanted to.
You want him to make love to you—
At the time, she’d brushed off the ghost’s casual observation, but it was true. She’d wanted Jacob from the moment she first saw him. And despite trying to ignore that desire, it had never left her. She ached for him, for this. She’d avoided him at all costs so her crush on him wouldn’t distract her.
Hadn’t worked very well.
Now she felt him thrust inside of her, his skin against hers, his mouth on the soft, sensitive flesh of her breasts, her throat, her lips. He pulled her up against him then, moving down to grasp her buttocks, fingers digging in to the point of exquisite pain.
“Amanda…Amanda…” He groaned her name over and over. “You’re so beautiful. You feel so damn good.”
She wasn’t sure what she said to him in reply, but she said something. His name in gasps and moans, and then a soft scream left her lips as an orgasm ripped through her, knocking her head backward. His face was between her breasts now and his thrusts became more uneven, faster, her name becoming harder to understand. He kissed her again, his tongue plunging into her mouth.
She concentrated on the incredible friction of him entering her and pulling out. It felt so good, as if this was what had always been missing for her—this overwhelming sensation of being filled completely. His body fitted hers perfectly.
And then, with a last deep, shuddering thrust and a cry torn from his throat he came. The only things moving then were their chests as their breath came back to normal. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him tight against her for several minutes.
Then she stroked his shoulder. “Did you fall asleep?”
“No,” was the soft answer.
“Are you going to get off me now?”
His body tensed and he immediately pulled away from her to roll onto his back. He wouldn’t meet her gaze.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“For what?”
“For taking advantage of the situation.”
She repressed a smile. “Honestly, Jacob. I never knew you had this gentlemanly side to you.”
“I normally don’t. It must be the spell.”
“Right. The spell.”
“I should have controlled myself.”
“I think that’s sort of the point. You can’t control yourself. It’s impossible.”
“Right, but we need to…” He trailed off as he realized that she was caressing his chest now. “What are you doing?”
“Touching you.” Her hand drifted down his hard, rippled abdomen and circled his navel.
“I…I can’t think properly when you do that.”
“Thinking properly is way overrated,” she said very seriously. “I think properly all the time and what has it gotten me?” She curled her fingers around his shaft, it was already growing hard again. She leisurely stroked him up and down, bringing forth a low groan from his throat.
“We’re going to need another
condom,” she said. When he didn’t answer right away, she leaned over the side of the bed to where his wallet had fallen and retrieved one. She quickly tore open the small packet and rolled it on him before moving to straddle his body. She placed her hands on his chest, feeling wanton and more excited and alive than she’d ever felt in her life.
“Do you want me?”
He looked down at himself. “Isn’t it blatantly obvious?”
“That’s not an answer. Do you want me?”
“Yes,” he hissed. “I want you, Amanda. I’ve always wanted you.”
She lowered herself onto him slowly, an inch at a time, feeling very in control—despite being completely out of control, that is—in this new position. She watched his face as she began to move, his expression of sheer awe and aching need. His gaze moved to their intimate connection and he brought his hand down to stroke his thumb over her clit. The small movement was enough to make her cry out and arch her back as another wave of pleasure crashed over her.
He cupped her breasts as she moved up and down his length, feeling exhilarated, feeling on fire, feeling a passion unlike anything else she’d ever known before. A passion for this man, this difficult man who haunted her as surely as the ghosts haunted this house.
“Jacob,” she moaned. “Oh, Jacob, yes. Please.”
“Amanda—”
He pulled her down flat against his chest, and then rolled over so he was on top of her again, pressing her down into the mattress, his body thrusting inside of hers deeper and harder and faster until it felt as if they were one person, no beginning, no ending. There was nothing that existed outside of this moment and their bodies moving together as one.
With another cry, he brought her to another earth-shattering orgasm and followed closely behind, his hips straining against hers as he climaxed, murmuring her name into her ear again and again.
She could hear the tick-tock as the clock began keeping time again. It was over. The spell was broken. They were free to leave the room whenever they wanted.
“I’ve always loved you,” Jacob whispered into her ear just before she fell asleep in his arms.
CHAPTER 6
