by Powell, C. G. ; Lavender, Cait; Rayns, Lisa; Hardin, Olivia; Nelson, Stephanie; Schulte, Liz
Lights shone against the darkness as we approached Clover Grove Inn. I pulled into the long gravel driveway; the sensation of death smacked me in the face. Gwen tensed. Although not as keen to death, she felt it too.
“It looks abandoned,” she mumbled staring out the windshield with wide eyes. Salem was soaked in blood and massacre, her cautiousness was smart.
“I think it’s being renovated or something. We’ll be the only guests.” I parked the car, sat back and looked over at Gwen. “You ready?”
She continued to stare at the Victorian home with uncertainty. “Not really.”
~ 3 ~
I opened the door and stepped inside the Inn, Gwen right behind me. The bed and breakfast had a feeling that must have put her on edge because she stood a little closer to me than usual.
“Hello,” an older woman with silver hair and aquamarine eyes said in greeting.
“Hi, I’m Dorian Hade. I believe I spoke with a gentleman earlier about staying a couple nights.”
The woman smiled. “Right, yes. I have you in room 13.” She slid a skeleton key across the wooden counter. “Please excuse our mess, we’re remodeling. The kitchen is still open and breakfast is served at six. If you have any questions, you can find me. I’m Betty and my husband’s name is Leonard. Enjoy your stay at Clover Grove,” she finished with another warm smile.
I nodded, grabbed the key and shouldered the bags. Placing my hand on the small of Gwen’s back, I guided her towards the staircase. Her muscles were tense and her eyes volleyed around the space as she searched for threats.
“I thought you said we’d only be staying a day?”
“Just depends on how quickly we rid this place of the spirit.” I grinned when she turned to give me a look of anger. She stalked up the stairs, me chuckling behind her. Stopping outside of room thirteen, another look of anger crossed her beautiful face.
“Dorian, why do we only have one room?”
I couldn’t help myself; my grin grew into a full blown smile. She’d been so preoccupied with the eerie feeling that she hadn’t realized we had to share a room, not that I planned that or anything.
“It’s the best they could do.
They’re renovating,” I told her.
“All the rooms except this one?” She questioned with a raised eyebrow. I shrugged and slipped the key into the lock, pushing the door open. The room was what I expected, floral and beige, not exactly sexy. The lighting was harsh and the mauve carpet looked like Pepto vomit. The only thing that mattered was the queen size bed jutting out from the wall.
Setting the bags on the bed, I shrugged out of my leather jacket. Gwen stepped into the room with caution, her eyes darting to the bed and then away. “You can sleep on the floor.”
I kicked my boots off and threw myself back on the bed, tucking my arms behind my head. “There’s plenty of room, no reason anyone has to sleep on the floor.”
Gwen crossed her arms, her hip slightly cocked. “There is when one of those someone’s doesn’t understand what no means.”
“Oh I know what it means, I’m just not convinced you mean it,” I paused when it looked like she was going to say something. “No worries, we’re here to do a job. We’re both adults and can sleep in the same bed without it leading to something more. You have my word that I will not touch you,” I smiled. “Unless you ask me to.”
“Why don’t you hold your breath until that happens,” Gwen laughed. I watched her and the way her smile caused those blue eyes to sparkle. The way her face lit up when she allowed amusement to overtake all other emotions was breathtaking. Her dark hair, like black silk, fell forward and I itched to sweep it away so I could have a clear view of her face.
Her chuckles died away as she noticed my stare. She shifted her eyes to the floor, a blush coloring her cheeks. This woman captured my attention, demanded my admiration and left me starving for more of her. I made a silent promise that one day I’d get a chance to show her up close and personal just how hungry I was for her.
“So, what do we do now?”
“I suppose we have dinner.”
“Dinner?” she asked dumbfounded.
“Hmm, I’m starving all of a sudden.”
*
The kitchen, as Betty had said, was open. It hadn’t escaped the horrid décor unfortunately. Frilly curtains covered the windows. Yellow cabinets, with ivy stenciling, lined the walls. Blue Formica counters formed an L and housed kitschy canisters with roosters and various other farm animals. The clock on the stove said it was just after ten P.M. so Betty and Leonard were already in bed.
Walking over to the fridge, I opened the door and said, “Go sit in the dining room. I’m cooking tonight.”
Gwen’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “You cook?”
“I’m very talented,” I smirked. Gwen rolled her eyes at the double meaning and walked out. Smiling to myself, I opened the cabinets and pulled down two bowls.
When I entered the dining room, Gwen was laying with her head on the table. “Dinner’s served,” I said and her head popped up. I set the bowl in front of her and she eyed it like it was an unknown food source.
“Spaghetti O’s?”
“Told you I’m an awesome cook, dig in.”
Gwen laughed and I sat down in front of her. Scooping the spoon into the bowl of spaghetti sauce and pasta rings, I took a bite. I watched Gwen while she kept her eyes focused on the food.
“What’s your favorite color?”
Gwen looked up. “What?”
“We didn’t get to twenty one questions in the car, so the game is still on.”
Her eyes seemed to light up with excitement. I couldn’t fathom her interest in my personal life.
“Purple,” she answered. “How old are you?”
I thought about her question and whether or not it would creep her out. “Thirty.”
“Not the age you choose to be, your actual age,” she complained. I grinned and was silent for a few more minutes, her face growing more impatient the longer I made her wait. Being the angel of Death, time didn’t hold the same meaning to me as it did the humans. “Honestly, I don’t know. Angels are indefinite and everlasting.”
“So angels never die?” her voice was incredulous.
“Not very often and only at the hands of other angels. Humans and minor supernatural’s can’t touch us.”
“Minor supernatural’s?”
“Pretty much any being that is not an angel,” I smiled. Gwen was quiet for a moment as she dissected and stored the information.
“So, you could be thousands of years old?”
“Possibly.”
“You don’t remember being born?”
“That’s three questions. It’s my turn.” Gwen sagged against her chair, crossed her arms and watched me. My eyes roamed over her cleavage and I licked my lips.
“Are you attracted to me?” At my question she looked away. I couldn’t help but address the elephant in the room.
“Next question,” she said through clenched teeth.
“I answered your questions,” I reminded her.
“It won’t change anything,” she told me. I kept my facial expression neutral but inside I was seething. The woman refused to give into me. I guess I just had to step up my game.
A loud bang sounded from upstairs and both of our head bent back as we stared at the ceiling. The air became frigid and danced with electricity.
“What is that?” Gwen said through a shiver.
“Only one way to find out.”
~ 4 ~
We climbed the stairs, Gwen in front of me. Her hips moved from side to side. My eyes were more interested in watching those hips rather than my surroundings. I knew what made the noise and it wasn’t as mouthwatering as the body in front of me.
Gwen stopped at the top and craned her head so she could look down the hallway. Another round of clattering sounded and she looked back at me. Laughing to myself, I stepped in front of her and made my way down the ha
ll. The air grew colder with each step closer but I was impervious to temperature changes.
Stopping in front of a closed door, I turned to Gwen. “What do you feel?”
“Death,” she said annoyed. I’d been asking her to identify it every time she felt the changes in the atmosphere. Obviously she was getting tired of answering the same question.
“This is the spirit we’re here to extract?” Gwen stared at the door.
“Perhaps.” Curling my hand around the knob, I opened the door. Gwen shuffled behind me all the while peering around to see what was in the room.
“You act like you’ve never seen a ghost before,” I remarked.
“I still don’t like them,” she mumbled as she moved closer to me.
Deciding this was one of those moments where the opportunist in me could benefit from; I reached back and grabbed her hand. She didn’t try to snatch it away; she was too worried about what we’d face in the room. Taking slow steps, I guided her into the bedroom. I positioned my hand so that our fingers were interlaced and watched her as her eyes roamed over the darkened space. Moonlight lent enough light that the plains of her high cheekbones, nose and full lips were highlighted. She was beautiful.
“Where is it?” Gwen asked looking up at me and noticing I’d been staring at her. She watched me for a few seconds before turning away, a smile playing on her lips. It was these moments, when she allowed her true feelings to show, that I’d been working towards. She’d been trying so hard to bottle up the attraction and closeness she felt towards me but when that smile showed itself, I knew I had to have her. If this bizarre connection was only one way, I’d have fled as far away as possible but I knew she felt something and that was worth exploring.
“You are very beautiful,” I said in a hushed tone. Gwen pivoted her head to look at me again, her eyes almost sad. Grumbling because the moment of her happiness had gone as fast as it had come, I looked behind her. I made my eyes wide and even gripped her hand a little tighter.
“W-what is it?” she asked afraid.
“Don’t look behind you,” I told her keeping my voice serious. Her eyes grew larger as she stared straight at me. With a quick motion, I pulled her closer and into my chest. Shooting my arm out to hold the threat at bay, I said, “Back…back you evil spirit! You cannot have this woman. I’ve already called dibs.” I laughed and Gwen turned to see what I was talking to. When she was greeted with a sheet draped over a mannequin instead of a ghost, she turned and punched my arm.
“Not funny!”
“Just trying to lighten the mood, you’re too tense.”
“There’s nothing humorous about dealing with the dead,” she bit out.
“Dealing with the dead is what we do, it’s second nature. If you don’t find a sense of humor, and fast, you’ll grow into a bitter woman.” I’d had patience with her and even held my tongue for a couple days, but there were moments when the woman drove me insane. She seemed to know where all my buttons were and pushed them just for the fun of it. I wanted to leave her in my rearview mirror almost as much as I wanted to hear her moaning underneath me. She was bound to drive me mad.
Gwen stomped out of the room. I shook my head in frustration and followed. The spirit who’d been making all the noise had disappeared before we made it up here. We’d have to hunt the sucker down and soon.
“How many times do I have to tell you that being a spirit walker is nothing to be afraid of? When are you going to embrace what you are, Gwen?” I slammed the door behind me and leaned against the wall. Gwen was in the middle of unzipping her duffle bag and shuffling through her clothes angrily. I took it a bit personally that she held such abhorrence for death being that I am the angel of it. I took care of the ugliness in the world. Maybe I’d grown numb to what that meant but I couldn’t understand how someone could hate something about themselves with so much conviction.
Gwen whirled around and stalked towards me, her blue eyes ablaze with fury. “I am embracing it, I’m here aren’t I? Just because I have feelings about those who’ve died does not mean that I’m afraid or weak. I’ve accepted who I am.” She was standing so close to me, her anger fueling a fire within me that begged for release. The passion of that stubborn woman wormed its way inside me until I had to react in some way. I could scream and yell and fight, fuel the fire with harsh words and snuff it with apologies later. But I was sure that the only way to extinguish the rising heat would be with her lips and naked flesh against mine.
I stepped towards her and she stepped back. Her eyes were glued to mine and that curious connection between us infused the air with energy. Snaking my arm around her, I fisted my hand in her long dark hair. She didn’t pull away like I expected. Instead she stood still, waiting for my next move. I loosened my grip on her hair; I wasn’t trying to hurt the woman, and caressed the back of her head. My jeans grew tighter as my desire grew for her. Leaning down slowly, I kissed her bottom lip. Gwen didn’t reciprocate my kiss. With a soft tug, I guided her body closer to mine until she was snug against my chest. I kissed her again, this time not so soft, and slipped my tongue inside her mouth. When her tongue began to dance with mine, I moaned against her lips.
The longer we kissed, the fiercer my need got. Placing my hands on her hips, I hoisted her up and she responded by wrapping her legs around my waist. I did a mental victory dance that she was giving into me, finally. She raked her hands through my hair, the sensation enough to drive me over the edge. Walking over to the bed, I lay her down and positioned myself on top of her. Breaking away from her lips, I took a moment to stare down at her. I’d never slept with a woman and been there the next morning. Women complicated things and I didn’t need the drama. Relationships and Death don’t go hand in hand but she had done something to me, changed my point of view and I didn’t know whether I should be pissed or thankful.
Gwen was stubborn, sarcastic, and sometimes whiny but she was also courageous when she needed to be and I found that sexy. Lowering myself towards her, I met her lips again and my body responded by growing harder. I’d imagined what it’d be like to have her moaning for me, pleasing her and seeing that beautiful body without a thread of cloth covering it. As anxious as I was to find out, I had to play it smart. My intentions didn’t include leaving come morning. I planned to stick around, at least for a while, and experience her body more than once.
I rolled over, pulling her on top of me. She straddled my hips and never broke contact with my lips. The strain of my dick against my jeans was almost unbearable. I needed to put it to better use. With urgent hands, I began to tug her sweater up and over her head. Gwen stopped kissing me and halted my attempts of undressing her. Grumbling, I let my hands fall onto the bed and stared up at her.
Gwen’s eyes grew worried as she realized how intimate we’d been. Lost in anger that’d been turned into desire, she’d lost herself. The walls had come down and she’d given into me. The look of regret was all over her face and crushed any ounce of horniness I felt. I could deal with a lot of shit, but I would not deal with her regretting me.
She climbed off of me and ran her hands through her hair. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she pinched her bottom lip as she replayed what transpired between us. When she looked up at me, I held up a hand to stop the speech I knew was coming. “Don’t you dare say that what just happened was a mistake. It’s not wrong to be attracted to me, Gwen. And it’s not wrong that you allowed yourself to explore those feelings,” I said with a stern voice. “You can be pissed at me for kissing you, but don’t you dare tell me you regret returning it.” I waited for her to spew her normal sarcastic angry comments—it was her best defense, but she remained silent.
Turning away from her, I began to kick off my boots and pull my t-shirt over my head.
“What are you doing?” Gwen asked, her voice an octave higher than normal.
I looked over my shoulder and snorted. As much as I wanted her to let her guard down around me, I didn’t think she ever would. “Getting ready for b
ed. Don’t worry I won’t touch you.” I returned to undressing, slipping my jeans off next. Gwen was used to seeing me in my boxer briefs—it was my normal sleeping attire.
Gwen rose from the bed, grabbed some clothes and headed towards the bathroom. When the door closed, I shook my head and rubbed my forehead. I’d come so close to experiencing her body tonight only to have it yanked away.
I walked around the bed, pulled back the floral bedspread and lay down. Tucking my arms behind my head, I stared up at the ceiling. This wasn’t me; I didn’t stay in a room with a beautiful woman without having her.
When Gwen emerged from the bathroom, dressed in a sexy nightie, she stared at the bed like it was a poisonous snake.
“You’ve got to be kidding? I said. “You wanna torture me to death, don’t you?” I raked my eyes up and down the hip hugging night gown, the bulge in my underwear growing again. Her dark hair fell over her shoulders and settled against her cleavage.
“I thought I’d have my own room and I don’t have anything else to sleep in.” She walked over to the bed, slipped under the covers and used magic to shut off the lights.
She could have used magic to change her clothes so she either intentionally wore the nightie to tease me, or she had planned on this trip being more intimate than she led on. Her scent, a mixture of jasmine and citrus, filled the bed and called to me. Sexually frustrated, I turned over and punched the side of my pillow to fluff it. My plan to pretend like there was only one room available was beginning to backfire.
“So, when are we going after the ghost?” Gwen whispered.
“When it shows up again.”
She was quiet for a while. “Dorian?”
“Hmm?”
“I’m sorry for earlier.”
Anger filled me. I rolled over, slipped an arm under her waist and drew her closer to me. Without a second thought, I kissed her hard. Her shock from the sudden attack left her uncooperative but after a few seconds, her lips began to move against mine. I smiled against her mouth and continued to kiss her. If this was what it took to prove to her that the connection between us wasn’t something to laugh at, then I’d take pleasure in fondling, kissing and running my hands against her tight body. I’d be taking a lot of cold showers but with luck her walls would fall eventually.
