Phantom Mischief

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Phantom Mischief Page 3

by Jennifer LaRose


  Oh God, this made her physically ill. She wrapped an arm around her tummy and cringed. “How many more policies have you forged?”

  He seemed to contemplate the question before he cleared his throat. “None.”

  None? Yeah, right.

  He walked to the desk and set the bottle and glasses down. “I know how shocking this must be, but—”

  “Shocking?” What an understatement. “You planned on profiting from my mother’s death, and that’s all you can say. When were you going to tell me? Never?”

  “Eventually.” He inhaled a deep, shoulder-lifting breath then reached for her as if wanting a hug to call a truce.

  She shoved his hands aside. “I can’t even begin to tell you what I’m feeling right now, Derek. Just go. Grab your suitcase and leave.”

  “What do you mean, leave?” he asked too calmly.

  “The engagement is off. Get out.”

  He charged around the desk and pulled her to her feet by the wrists. “What the fuck, Shanna!” He shook her hard. “I’m not going anywhere. You’ve got a three-thousand-dollar diamond sitting on your finger, sealing your promise to marry me. If you bail now, it’s a breach of contract.”

  “Do you know what, Derek?” She narrowed her eyes. “Then sue me. I don’t know what else to tell ya.”

  “You bitch!” He raised his hand to smack her but was suddenly lifted off his feet and thrown across the room.

  Shanna watched in horror as he landed in a heap on the floor near their luggage. “Oh my God,” she screeched. How’d that happen?

  He pulled himself to his knees. “I can have you arrested for that.”

  She gasped. “I didn’t do it.” And she suspected he also knew she hadn’t done it. No way could she possibly pick him up and throw him ten feet away. What the heck? “And I can have you arrested for forgery and fraud.”

  He quickly shuffled to his feet. “Fine. I’ll shred the damn contracts. Does that make you feel better?” he seethed.

  “You have no choice. I copied the file to prove her death certificate has been altered. If you don’t destroy it, you’re going to jail. And you’d best do it while I’m still playing nice. Now get out.”

  He cautiously walked to the desk, his gaze darting around the room as if he expected to be thrown again. “Find your own way home,” he snarled as he grabbed the computer and case and raced to the door.

  “I will.”

  “I’m flying back to the States and I’m cashing in your return flight to recoup some of the money I spent on this damn vacation.”

  If he’d said that to scare her, it worked, but the sky would have to cave in on her to admit it. She hated the thought of being alone only because too many creepy things had happened in the hotel so far. “Maybe this will help.” She yanked the engagement ring off her finger and threw it at him. It bounced off his chest and landed in the carpet beside his right foot. “Leave your room key.”

  After picking up the ring, he stuffed it in his pants pocket. He then fished inside his shirt pocket for the key and tossed the card across the room. It landed short of the desk and dropped to the floor, but she waited until he stormed out and the door clicked shut before she picked up the key and set it on the desk.

  Tears flooded her eyes and trickled down her cheeks. But they were tears for her mom because of how she’d been wronged. To Derek, she was just an insurance policy to cash in, and her life meant nothing.

  Shanna turned on every light in the room, lay down on the bed, hugging a pillow, and cried. Her mother must have sensed his evilness because many times she’d tried forewarning Shanna about his behavior. Mom never explained why she disliked him but advised Shanna to prepare for a broken heart one day. Mom, that day has arrived.

  Mom never interfered with Shanna or Shanna’s younger sister Adrienne’s lives. She said sometimes making the wrong decisions was often the best lesson. Even on her deathbed, Mom stressed for Shanna to make sure she was in love with the man she chose to marry because just loving him wasn’t enough. Another right-o, Mom.

  Shanna missed her desperately. It’d only been six months since Mom passed away. It was a sad, grueling process watching her whittle away to nothing while cancer ate her internal organs. That left Shanna and Adrienne as her sole survivors. And since Adrienne moved out and started a new life, Shanna often felt alone and misplaced. Maybe she should’ve hung on to Mom’s house just to pacify her sense of longing, rather than selling it.

  Their loving family was downgraded in such a short time. If not for her best friend Joanne, she would’ve gone crazy a long time ago. Maybe that’s why Shanna settled for Derek.

  Why couldn’t Shanna have a picturesque life like Adrienne? At twenty-three, she sure had it going on. She’d married her gynecologist—talk about marrying a man who knew her inside and out. Sheesh. The awkward thing was, he was Shanna’s—correction—he used to be Shanna’s gyno as well. Dr. Timothy Kuhnan. For moral reasons, Shanna couldn’t marry a man who’d looked up her sister’s hoo-ha. As long as Adrienne didn’t mind, which obviously she didn’t because she’d married the guy anyhow, it shouldn’t have been an issue. But needless to say, standing as Adrienne’s maid of honor was the most uncomfortable day of Shanna’s life. Hopefully the saying, when you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all, could be applied to the doc’s realm of thinking.

  At least Adrienne and Tim were in love. It showed. To a mind-boggling extreme. Passion and admiration dripped from their eyes whenever they gazed at one another.

  Wasn’t the elder sibling supposed to set life’s examples? Well, it’s a good thing that hadn’t occurred, otherwise Adrienne would’ve settled for a callous man like Derek who wanted things his way and obviously practiced criminal activity.

  Did Shanna love Derek? Yes. Was she in love with him? She couldn’t honestly say. And now with the wake-up call that’d just knocked her on her butt, she’d never know for sure.

  They certainly didn’t share the type of relationship Shanna’s mom and dad or Adrienne and Tim shared. Those couples were inseparable. They smiled constantly. They laughed all the time. The sparkle in their eyes never dulled when gazing at each other. That wasn’t exactly how Shanna always felt about Derek. At times he made her so angry she despised him and could’ve walked away and never looked back. To save major heartbreak, she should’ve followed the telltale signs and done so sooner.

  The manner in which he treated his staff at times really made her mad. And the manner in which he treated his friends also made her mad. Now, creating false insurance policies for monetary gain, it was… God, it was so wrong. Any self-centered man who lacked compassion for others couldn’t possibly have much love to give.

  How could the beginning of such a beautiful vacation end on such an ugly note? Now here she lay, stranded a million miles away from home, blubbering into a pillow.

  Her eyelids must’ve swelled from all the crying because they were extremely heavy and threatened to close. She glanced across the room and spotted Derek’s forgotten suitcase lying on the floor. Maybe she should set it out in the hall in case he returned. Yes, as soon as she got up, she’d…

  Shanna woke with a start. She’d fallen asleep? How long ago? It couldn’t have been too long because she didn’t feel completely rested. Yet daylight was slipping to darkness. Along with colors of twilight filtering through the windows, a warm sensation hovered around the bed.

  She quickly sat up but it felt like she crashed into something solid—like an invisible wall― and she flew back down, her shoulders hitting the mattress with a dull thud.

  What in God’s name…

  She gulped. While her eyes darted around the room she lay completely still, holding her breath. The clock read 9:17 and she swore, despite it being digital, she heard tick-tick, tick-tick. But everything seemed amplified in that moment. Even her heartbeat, because as she lay perplexed in fear, it danced an intense Zumba in her chest, echoing deep inside her eardrums. If that shadow appeared now she’d have a frea
king stroke.

  A wall of warmth nestled along the side on her body and something heavy flopped over her thighs, pressing her further into the bed.

  Holy hell—she couldn’t move her legs.

  She darted upright, slashing her arms through the air, feeling for the wall that’d previously knocked her down. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried pulling her legs together but her strength was no match for whatever held her in place.

  Something was in the room with her. Something she couldn’t see. Something bound and determined to take control of her body. Was it the same powerful thing that’d thrown Derek to the door?

  Oh gosh. Oh no. “Please,” she begged, fisting the bedspread so tightly her wrists ached, “please go away.”

  The pressure eased slightly from her thighs but she sensed something large crouched between them. Her breaths quickened. The inhalations actually hurt when inflating her lungs. A dull throb pounded in her ears from the thundering beat of her heart.

  Biting her bottom lip, she contemplated peeking. If she saw the black shadow, though, she’d die.

  A scream built in her throat. Her blood ran cold. And just as she opened her mouth to wail for help, a soothing calm washed over her.

  Just then the weight lifted completely off her legs. In that instant of relief she released the air from her lungs through her nostrils and, ever so slowly, started to roll toward the side of the bed. But she didn’t get far because something captured her shoulders and she was gently laid down on the mattress. Her heart raced and her breaths turned loud and shallow.

  She opened her eyes a slit and peeked at her lower limbs. Nothing but air filled the area between her body and the canopy. She took a long, hard look at the empty space. Her dress bodice rustled as if caught up in a breeze. Then it felt as if something began caressing her nipples. Softly at first, but as the circular pressure intensified, her areolas puckered inside her bra. An electrifying jolt darted to her spine and a stream of warm vibrations trickled to her pussy.

  What was going on? What the heck was going on? Heavy air weighing her down. Stimulated nipples. Pussy awakening. God, it felt good, but made no logical sense whatsoever.

  Then, as if being tugged by a string, her dress inched upward, bunching at her waist. A warm, tingly sensation permeated her thighs as they began to slide open. The warmth languidly moved inward, settling between her legs. A puff of air, like a tender breath, feathered across her hairless pubic bone. And within the next breath of a second, something smooth and thick slipped into her vagina.

  She gasped from the electrical jolt and her eyes popped fully open.

  Whatever was lodged inside her pussy started to thrust in and out. In conjunction with the thrusts, a hot, sleek object wiggled through her folds and flicked her clit. A stream of excitement wavered to her spine.

  She sucked in a mouthful of air and held it in her lungs, eagerly anticipating the next thrilling sensation. As if whatever toyed with her pussy understood her needs, it traced languid circles around her sensitive clitoris. Everything inside her melted and her mind shut down. Her legs instantly relaxed and she loosened her grip on the bedspread. Oh God, don’t stop.

  Then something else worked itself into her vagina. Inch by inch it slithered toward her cervix, melding with the original long, thick object. When it couldn’t go any farther, it partially withdrew then slipped back inside. It repeated the motion, in-out, in-out, falling into a pattern of gentle thrusting. She released the breath she’d held and closed her eyes.

  The circles around her clit slowed to a stop and a fragile sucking sensation took their place. A low moan escaped from her throat. She retightened her grip on the blanket and started rotating her hips. This isn’t real. It feels too good to be real.

  The suction deepened. Her butt came off the bed to take more. She rolled her head side to side as pressure built in her womb, spreading to her fingers and toes. Tingles raced through her blood and her face heated.

  It was the most exquisite, fascinating thing she’d ever experienced in her life but she couldn’t withstand much more. Every nerve reaped benefits of pleasure. Her chest nearly burst from the mounting pressure.

  She rode the splendor, thrashing her hips up and down while trying to lodge the object deeper. To her dismay, it withdrew from her cunt and the suction faded. Just when she whimpered in frustration, her thighs were spread farther apart. Then something very firm and very large made contact with her vaginal opening. As it eased just past the entrance her inner walls contracted. Again she held her breath, waiting for this wonderful something to completely fill her up.

  She was so wet she actually heard squishing sounds when it inched deeper, spreading her wide. Wider than anything she’d ever felt. Her insides actually stretched and every teensy nerve screamed in pleasure from the sleek expansion. The impaling object’s size reminded her of a fist but it was too smooth, like an enormous, velvety-soft dildo. And just as it filled her completely and she swore she couldn’t take any more, it sank deeper.

  “Ah shit,” she groaned, spreading her thighs even wider—to the point they ached. “Fuck me.” Despite her insides literally broadening beyond normal limitations, she clamped her teeth together and thrust her hips upward to coax it into action.

  Suddenly her legs were shoved to the outside of her waist and the huge object miraculously gained more depth. It filled her completely and when the thrusting started, grinding in and out, she wanted more.

  She latched on to her knees and pulled them toward her chest, as far as possible without cramping. Then she gyrated her hips hard, welcoming the pounding thrusts to her cervix. It ignited the wick to her sexual fire and every slam triggered sparks in her blood.

  A climax built in her chest with more velocity than she’d ever experienced. And she knew once it burst she’d explode into a trillion pieces. And it was building fast. Each thrust was like adding one more breath to an overly inflated balloon.

  Sprinkles of light danced around in her head and her fingers and spine prickled. Then suddenly her mind seemed to detach from her body and she shattered. Her pussy contracted and tummy jerked as her insides lit up in a kaleidoscope of color intermixed with her ecstatic screams. And when she came down from the high the relentless thrusts lifted her up again, over and over, until she lost count of the number of times she’d climaxed. Then finally the pumping ceased and she fell limp into a plateau of contented darkness.

  Deep vaginal contractions thumped in sync with her heart, arousing her, beat by beat, from the semi-unconscious state.

  Her eyes popped open. She inhaled a few hearty breaths through her nose while she lay completely still and darted her gaze throughout the room.

  The warmth surrounding the bed had vanished and her vagina no longer felt stretched and full.

  What just happened?

  Was she delirious from lack of food? Had she lost her mind or had she experienced one monstrous wet dream? Any more at that magnitude could be dangerous.

  But it seemed so real. And a dull pain surrounding her crotch made it all the more alarming.

  She slid her hand between her legs to temper the ache. Her hand came away wet with a glob of juices clinging to her fingers. She stared at the exorbitant amount webbed around her knuckles. Impossible. She bolted upright and glanced between her thighs. Her labia throbbed and the bedspread was damp and cool beneath her ass.

  She flew off the bed. As she stood staring at the wet spot on the printed blanket, the juices between her thighs began to cool. She wouldn’t deny she’d gotten off, but how? She couldn’t explain that. Not unless Derek snuck into the room and took advantage of her slumber, if, in fact, she’d been sleeping. He doesn’t have a key. And it’d take four of him to measure up to the size of whatever fucked her. Or what she’d imagined had fucked her. No, something definitely had. Maybe it was her own fist and the big cock was a figment of her imagination.

  Yes. That’s exactly what it was. A figment. A sure way to appease the trauma Derek caused. And s
tanding beside the bed trying to make sense of the situation wouldn’t bring any closure to what’d happened.

  The hair on her arms stood as her blood turned cold. Hugging herself, she skittered to her luggage, grabbed the case packed with pajamas and toiletries then entered the bathroom to freshen up before ordering room service.

  She glanced at her reflection in the mirror and cringed. Her hair had taken on a serious case of bed-head and streaks of black mascara temporarily stained her cheeks. Just as she’d expected, her lids were swollen and eyeballs bloodshot. She looked atrocious and like something only a mother could love. Stress and mega-orgasms could definitely beat the hell out of a woman. She looked like she’d been exhumed from a grave.

  Maybe she’d indulge in a quick shower to tidy up before ordering room service. Resembling a zombie might likely scare the hell out of the porter assigned to her room. If the shower neglected to improve her appearance, she’d starve until morning.

  She turned on the bathtub faucets and the instant she stripped off her clothes, a blanket of warmth surrounded her from head to toe. As she closed her eyes and hugged herself, something forced her face-first against the door and her legs were slowly parted.

  Chapter Three

  I’m out of here. Today.

  Shanna grabbed her purse, threw a lightweight sweater over her shoulders, yanked Derek’s suitcase off the floor then left the room. She’d barely slept a wink all night. And spending the evening crouched in a corner, starving, scared half to death because she didn’t understand what was happening and wrapped in a blanket with her head covered wasn’t her idea of comfort. Sure, she enjoyed every moment of the sexual encounters, but realistically, that type of thing only happened on TV. Why had it happened to her?

  She’d tried calling Adrienne at 2:00 a.m. to talk through the incidents but she couldn’t obtain any reception from inside the room. No cell phone, no ability to connect to the complimentary Wi-Fi, not even the landline worked, which had kicked the idea of room service to the curb. Talk about feeling entrapped and stranded.

 

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