by Dawn Steele
“Don’t worry.” His breathing is coming out in sharp, ragged bursts. “I’ll be gentle.”
His eyes are dilated with desire and his nostrils flare. She can’t take her eyes off this magnificent Nordic god.
“You’re so beautiful, Shannon,” he murmurs. “So beautiful.”
It is amazing that he too finds her beautiful. Her medium-sized breasts are heaving. He slips on a condom. It sheaths his cock like a glistening glove. Her entire focus is on him – his glorious body, his upright cock which is about to penetrate her, his lustrous blue eyes fringed by long golden lashes.
“Relax,” he tells her as he straddles her. He puts his cock between her legs. “Don’t tense up. Just look into my eyes.”
Those eyes. She remembers what she has seen in those eyes very well. So many questions about this man. So little time.
“It’s OK,” she says. “Do it.”
“I can’t stop even if I tried.”
His cock nudges her open pussy, already dripping with her juices. He cleaves her tunnel with one swift stroke.
She cries out with the pain of his size.
“You OK?” He holds her in concern.
“Y-yes.”
“You want me to pull out?”
“No. Just stay in me.”
She shuts her eyes, and then opens them again. His eyes hold hers, and she sees tenderness in them. Maybe sadness as well.
He moves inside her. She gasps.
“Am I hurting you?”
She is filled to total expansion.
“No. Not anymore. It feels . . . good.”
And it does. Her orifice and passage is stretched to its max, and his flesh thrusts and rubs against every crevice and every surface like a well-oiled tool. He grunts with each pump of his hips, and her entire body is pushed towards the headboard.
Oh, the sex is incredibly hot, she thinks. This man is incredibly hot. He ruts against her like this for a long, long time. In, out. In, out. Her fists are bunching the sheets and grasping the edges of the pillows. She hasn’t even noticed the color of the sheets until now – they are a pristine white, probably with a very high thread count.
His cock pounds her and massages her, and she angles her cervix upward so that his crown would thrust against her special place. Each stroke there is enough to bring her to a high. She goes higher –
“Ahhh!”
And higher.
“Ahhhh!”
He grips her arms. His breath is very harsh against her neck. A bead of sweat falls off his nose and speckles her lips. She licks it and tastes its sexy saltiness.
“Oh, Lucien,” she whimpers.
“God, you feel good,” he says raggedly.
Until finally, she cries out, losing herself to the bliss that follows. Her groin explodes into spasms and tendrils of fire which run all over her body while its hub concentrates at her core.
Oh, oh, oh, oh!
Her entire pelvic region screams with the ecstasy and the sweet agony of it all. Her mind goes blank as she arches her back, grinding the top of her head onto the soft pillows.
When she comes to, he is panting full throttle. He lets himself go too. Although the condom stops her from experiencing his sap firsthand, she knows his semen is gushing inside its rubber cage.
“Ohhhh,” he groans as he spurts inside her several times. She can feel his buttocks squeezing with each forceful ejaculation.
Then he collapses on top of her.
“That was incredible,” he whispered against her hair. He strokes her breasts, her neck. “Stay with me tonight.”
She is too fatigued to do anything but assent.
*
Somewhere in the middle of the night, she wakes up. Lucien’s limbs are entwined with hers, and he is snoring slightly.
She shifts very slowly, not wanting to wake him. She stares at his sleeping profile. He is an incredible lover, and she will be very sorry to leave him in the morning. Jared would be upset that she spent the night with Lucien, of course, but she is a consenting adult.
That is, if Jared actually came back to the hotel at all.
Outside the bedroom window, a pale moon floats upon listless clouds, spraying the night with an eerie glow. Somewhere in the dark forest beyond the maze, a wolf howl pierces the night.
It is remarkably close, and the hairs on her forearm rise.
Her mind goes back to the hanging witch. She has to suppress a shudder.
What does it all mean?
THE HOUSE
The next morning, she wakes up before Lucien can wake up, and she surreptitiously eases her body away. She dresses in her clothes, picks up her heels and takes a final look at him before she pads silently out of the door.
Thank you for the wonderful sex.
Apparently, there are no cabs to call in Dolphin’s Bay. But there is a car service she can dial for, the concierge tells her helpfully. He recognizes her as Mr. Walker’s date, of course.
“Are you sure you don’t want to wait for Mr. Walker to take you home, Miss?” he asks.
“No, I don’t want to bother him. Please dial the service.”
It would be far better to take public transport – or what is akin to public transport here – than to call Jared to pick her up.
She switches on her cellphone. Two missed calls from Jared. She twists her mouth.
When is he going to learn that I am not that sixteen-year-old ingénue anymore who hero-worshipped him?
When she gets back to Pine’s Bluff, Jared is waiting for her at the reception. He is seated with his feet sprawled on the table before him. Peter, the receptionist, eyes him nervously.
“So, was he good in the sack?” Jared drawls loudly.
“It’s none of your business.”
“Oh, but it is my business if my only sister doesn’t come home all night. After all, she’s in a new town and I can’t be totally sure who she’s shacking up with.”
She breezes past him to the stairs and he gets up and lopes after her.
“Can it, Jared,” she says, exasperated. “Why do you always have to embarrass me in public?”
He grins. “Are you seeing our generous host again?”
“No.”
“Oh, dumped you, did he?”
“I wasn’t his to dump in the first place. He’s not the kind of man who is into relationships. And why am I telling you all this anyway?” She glares at him. Then she drops her voice to a whisper. “You have been good last night, haven’t you?”
“Aren’t I always good?”
She thinks uneasily of the hanging witch. No, Jared couldn’t have done that. He doesn’t know about the maze and its significance. Right? Fast as he is, he isn’t that fast. Not in the brains department, that is.
“I heard a wolf howl last night,” she says.
“So it’s a wolf. Nothing to do with me.”
She is walking very fast up the stairs. “Yes, but something could have spooked him in the forest.” She glares at her brother again. “You didn’t go hunting last night, did you?”
They are all alone on the top floor of the hotel and she is striding towards the Heartwood suite.
“What’s it to you if I did?”
“Jared,” she hisses, “we’re in a new town. You agreed to lay low until we’re more settled. It isn’t as if you have to hunt.”
“Boy, have you got your tits in a fine twist this morning. Which side of the bed did you fall out of? Oh, I know whose. Was his dick as thick as his skull?”
She has to resist the urge to smack his smug, grinning face. She decides to take the higher ground and ignore him instead. She fumbles in her purse and inserts her key into the lock.
“Let me guess,” Jared says, sauntering in after her. He leaps onto the couch as she goes into the bathroom to wash up. “Either you have PMT or you’re still feeling hot and bothered about the dashing millionaire.”
“Shut up.” She slams the bathroom door behind her.
He whoops with delig
ht. Sometimes, Jared can be such a pain. She leans upon the bathroom door with her eyes closed. Her pussy is still sticky with her dried creams from the torrid sex they had last night. Even when she thinks of Lucien’s cock inside her, a spool of fresh cream trickles from her core, wetting her panties.
Ohh! She must stop thinking of him!
She turns on the taps of the shower furiously, sheds her clothes and gets in. On second thought, she turns off the hot water and lets only the cold water from the showerhead cascade onto her head.
Damn, damn, damn!
*
The rest of the morning is spent with both Jared and she in industrious house hunting. By the end of the lunch hour, they have managed to snare themselves a little bungalow rental that isn’t too expensive.
All they have to do now, according to the real estate agent, is to shift out of their respective hotel suites and move in if they like it. The house is all ready for them.
Shannon takes a good last look at the Heartwood suite. She has never stayed in anything so luxurious in her life, and she will be sorry to be leaving it. Her mind fills with Lucien’s handsome face again and the way his blue eyes caress her when they made love on his big white bed.
No!
She doesn’t even want to check her phone. No point in being hopeful when there is no hope. The good thing about modern technology, she muses, is that you no longer have to wait by the phone for a cute boy to call. You can carry your phone everywhere with you and be miserable while productively running your errands instead of doing nothing at home.
The rental is a small bungalow in the foothills, a considerable distance away from Pine’s Bluff and the top of the hills where the rich live. The real estate agent, Ellie Fitzpatrick-Brown, is waiting for them outside.
“You found it.” She gives them a winning smile. She is a middle-aged woman. Heavily pregnant. Pleasant in a marmsy sort of way. She would be the kind of woman who serves you pastries the moment you step into her kitchen, Shannon decides.
“We did, thanks to my GPS,” Shannon says.
Jared rolls his eyes. “I would have found it all the same.”
They exchange pleasantries all round.
“You’ll love the house,” Ellie gushes. “It’s small but very cozy. Won’t require a lot of housekeeping if you are a young working brother and sister pair. Come in and take a look.”
A thought strikes Shannon.
“This property doesn’t belong to the Walker family, does it?”
A cloud darkens Ellie’s face.
“No.” An unusually firm tone has come into her voice. She leans over slightly as if to impart a secret. “Many people in this town are not overtly fond of the Walkers, if you know what I mean.”
Shannon has that suspicion as well after seeing the hanged witch. “Why?”
Ellie shakes her head. “You both are new here. It is not for me to fill your heads with local superstition.”
Jared steps forward. “No, we’re really interested in this. At least, my sister is.” He flashes a shrewd look at Shannon, who scowls at him. “Please . . . why are people in this town not fond of the Walkers?”
Ellie looks all around them. There is nothing around them but the house – which is a small cottage covered with vines and large, trembling leaves – as well as the backdrop of the hills leading to the forest. They have no neighbors for at least half a mile down the road.
“OK. But you mustn’t tell anyone you heard it from me.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Jared murmurs sarcastically.
Ellie doesn’t seem to notice his sarcasm.
“The Walker family hails from New England. They are a very old clan, dating back several centuries. They don’t make their history known, but it’s in all the annals in the library if you want to look back. Magda Walker, Julien Walker, Roderick Walker, Cassandra Walker, Phineas Walker. They all share one thing in common.”
Shannon feels a trickle of coolness despite the fair weather.
“What?” she asks.
“They were all burned at the stake for practicing witchcraft.”
Shannon’s mind fleets back to the hanging witch. Hanging. Not burning, or the maze would be a crisp. Now she understands the message for Lucien, if indeed it was intended for Lucien.
Witch! You deserved to be hanged!
She remembers the change of color which had come into Lucien’s eyes when he bested Jared at arm-wrestling. It is very likely the witch genes were passed on.
But it still doesn’t mean Lucien is a witch.
Jared begins to laugh.
Ellie says crossly, “There, I knew you folks from out of town would react in that manner. That’s why we choose to keep our secrets close.”
“No, no, you misunderstand me,” Jared says. “My sister and I are completely attuned to superstition and folklore. If you say the Walker family hails from witches, then we completely believe you. After all, we are extremely superstitious ourselves, aren’t we, sis?”
He winks. He is taking all this a little too lightly, she thinks.
Shannon clears her throat. I am not going to have anything to do with Lucien Walker anymore, so what does it matter?
“We would like to see the house, please,” she says.
“Of course,” Ellie says, glad for the change of subject.
The bungalow is small, with only two bedrooms and a bathroom. As Ellie mentioned, cleaning this place would not be an encumbrance. It is fully furnished with minimal, tasteful furniture – all old, all inexpensive, as if the owner does not intend to lavish a huge sum on tenants who might possibly tear down the place.
The rent is within their budget as well. God knows they have the money to afford something better, but it is better to be prudent for now.
“We’ll take it,” Jared says.
Shannon knows why he circled this property above all from the Dolphin Bay’s classifieds. The ad had boasted ‘natural forest tapestry behind the property’.
“Great,” Ellie says happily.
“When are you due?” Shannon says.
“Next month.” The realtor’s cheeks dimple and she rubs her tummy with one ringed hand. “This is my fifth, would you believe?”
“That’s amazing.” Shannon is not ready for children right now, but she imagines that someday she would love to have a child with a man who would love her forever. “Are there usually such large families here?”
“We Fitzpatricks tend to have large ones. I come from a family of seven myself. I am the second oldest, and my sisters are all married with broods of four or five themselves. We haven’t stopped yet.” She chuckles.
Jared has begun to unload their baggage from the trunk.
“Hey, you wanna give me a hand instead of gabbing in there with the realtor?” he calls.
“There are papers to sign and checks to be made in case you don’t know how this works, Jared!” she calls back.
“Then I’ll let you take care of all that stuff while I break open a can of beer!”
Ellie smiles. She produces a large brown envelope full of documents. “Let’s get the paperwork out of the way. It’s always unpleasant, I know, but necessary. Do you and your brother intend to find jobs here?”
“I know I do,” Shannon says. “I don’t know about him.”
She rolls her eyes and the older woman laughs as they adjourn to the kitchen with its dining table. They seat themselves there. Ellie takes out the documents for her to sign and explains the terms and conditions of each one.
“So what’s your line of work?” the agent asks.
“I have a degree in Physiotherapy and I would like to work with patients.”
Ellie sits back, thunderstruck.
“No way.”
“Why?” Shannon wonders if being a physiotherapist is that unusual in Dolphin’s Bay. Surely they must have a hospital?
“No.” Ellie pats her forearm. Her cheeks are colored with excitement, and not because of her third trimester pregnancy. “My you
nger brother runs a clinic here and he needs a physiotherapist. Just so happens the last one quit on him to get married, and he has been running the clinic with only two for the past two months. It has been hell on his staff. He is an orthopedic surgeon affiliated with the hospital. Would you like to meet him?”
It is as though fortune has fallen on her lap.
“Yes,” Shannon says, smiling. This is a streak of good luck. Her gloomy spirits lift despite the pall of the morning.
“OK, I’ll make a few calls. Give me a moment.”
Ellie picks up her cellphone and punches in a quick dial. After a few rings, someone on the other side picks up.
“Kirk? Yes, honey, it’s me.” She rolls her eyes and winks at Shannon. “Yes, honey, I know you’re busy and I must never call you at this time of day unless it’s an emergency, but I’ve got your new physiotherapist for you. You don’t have to request one from upstate now.”
Pause.
“Uh huh, uh huh. She’s right here. That’s right. She just happened to move into town yesterday and I rented her the Pullnam place.” She scrunches her nose. “Oh, come on, don’t say that. Send her to meet you? Super.”
Ellie rings off and claps her hands delightedly.
“I have a feeling we are all going to see a lot more of one another.”
THE CLINIC
It’s Shannon’s turn to take the Toyota out while Jared goes to hunt for another car. That would keep him busy and happy for the whole day, provided he doesn’t burn a hole in their pocket right away. But he usually is quite careful with money, so she isn’t too worried about it.
With her GPS, she soon finds the clinic, which is called, perhaps uncreatively: ‘DOLPHIN’S BAY ORTHOPEDIC AND REHABILITATION CENTER’. To her surprise, it is quite a huge place with plenty of bay windows proffering light to the interiors.
The clinic is quite busy with plenty of patients either walking in and out on crutches and splints or being wheeled by relatives and medical attendants. She parks and goes to the reception.
