Thomas tilted his head. “Oh?”
The pale figure floated into the room, her hands folded against the apron at her waist. “I was of the understanding that we were not to be photographed or seen. That isolation was a requirement for our security. For the Master’s security and privacy.”
He grinned in a way that had always charmed her in the past. “Esther, my love. You have been the housekeeper of this castle for more years than Saint or I have been alive. You’ve taken care of Mac, taken care of everyone who dwells within the walls of this Keep. I think it’s about time you had some fun. There are no actual rules about showing yourself are there?”
She shook her head doubtfully. “None set in stone, sir. But it’s an unwritten kind of thing. It just isn’t done, you ken. Even if we wish it.”
“Well for the next week, it is. Pass it on to your friends still wandering the village. For the next few days, ghosts rule the roost.” He paused for a moment, before adding, “However, I would appreciate it if you spread the word that Margo Sheffield is not to be bothered.” He didn’t want her leaving the castle before he was ready.
Esther’s lips curved, obviously pleased. “I’ll be letting them know, Master Lyons. Now. The guests are arriving. I suppose I should be there to welcome them. Make a good first impression.” With a rush of cool air and a slamming of the door, she was gone.
“I hope we’re not making a mistake.”
Thomas groaned as he turned to face his roommate. “Not you too. I already have to deal with Mac. I thought you were on my side.”
“I was. I am.” Saint sighed. “I just didn’t take into account people like Esther, Liam, Chi and all the others who came out to help. You do understand we’re outing everyone close to us for an online show, Thomas. I guess I’m just wondering about the fallout.”
“The conscience of a demon.” Saint flinched, and Thomas felt like an ass. “I’m sorry, man. That wasn’t called for. You’re right. But it’s only nine humans. After this is over they could shout it from the mountaintops, and the majority of the world would label them nutcases.”
“Which begs the question… If you already know that, then why are we really doing this? I’m all for experiments. But I don’t know if you’re ready for the results.”
Thomas rubbed his jaw, having a sinking feeling that he knew exactly what, or rather who, Saint was talking about. “You’re fairly astute for a computer-bound hermit, you know that?”
“We demons usually are.” Saint shrugged. “It’s part of our charm.”
He heard the bus turning down the narrow, winding road that led to the castle. She was here. They. They were here. It was getting harder and harder to pretend he had gone to all this trouble for the show, or to get under Mac’s skin. To pretend it wasn’t all about Margo, and his new and swiftly growing obsession with her sweet ass.
Here, kitty, kitty.
Chapter Three
Joseph took her hand as she stepped off the bus, and Margo stilled, pushing her hair behind her ear. “Did you hear that?”
He looked around. “I don’t think so. What did it sound like?”
A menacing growl. “Nothing. Nothing but my pounding heart. This castle is right out of a Bela Lugosi double feature.” It was also the size of a luxury hotel. And the mist that seemed to hover around it like a cloak was not helping with the creep factor.
The things she did for her job. A little voice inside her head cackled at that. Are you sure it’s not for him?
Shut up, little voice. La la la. I can’t hear you.
“It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” Chi walked toward the door ahead of them, and Joseph took a deep breath. “I stand corrected. The second most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
“There is no end to attractive and interesting characters here is there? I may get a complex.”
Stan came up behind her, his large black satchel on his shoulder. “No worries on that score, my dear. You fit right in with the beautiful people. In fact, you surpass them.”
Chi returned, camera in hand, her exotically tilted eyes on Stan and Joseph. “Why don’t you both head inside? I need to speak with Ms. Sheffield. Alone.”
Stan raised his perfectly groomed eyebrows, but nodded, leaving Margo with a friendly smile. Joseph continued to stand there without a word. Long moments passed. Chi began to blush. Finally, Margo did the only thing she could think to do.
He inhaled sharply as she dug her elbow into his ribs. “Hey!”
“What part of alone don’t you understand?” She sent him a meaningful glance and the bronze skin of his cheeks darkened. He backed away, nearly stumbling over his duffel bag and giving them a wide berth as he headed inside. She caught Chi staring at the fit of his jeans and winked. “Men, huh?”
Chi shook her head, biting her lip. “No. I mean he’s not…he’s not my type.”
Margo caught the glint of a sharp tooth and whistled. So the camerawoman was another player. “You too? I suppose everyone in that house is going to be like Mr. Lyons and the others, for the sake of continuity.”
Chi chuckled. “That is the general idea. Everyone but you folks.” She came closer, lowering her voice. “I’ve been instructed to take you around the back way.”
“The back way? What back way? Why—”
Margo heard the screams, looking up in time to see Karen Stevens and that Erin woman, whose last name she couldn’t recall, run out of the castle’s large front doors like the devil himself was at their heels. “It’s haunted. The cas-castle, it’s…” That’s all she heard before Dugan opened the bus doors, and they leapt inside to safety.
The old man snorted, shaking his head. “That was quick. Humans. I’ll be back for the next batch later tonight. Tell Liam.” He hopped onto the tour bus and drove away, taking the two ashen women with him.
“They must have insulted Esther. She’s the sweetest woman, and the world’s best housekeeper, but very particular about formalities. Between you, me and the goblins? I wish she’d decided to scare that Ms. Blaze instead. But I’m not that lucky. Now follow me, Ms. Sheffield.” Chi turned before Margo could argue.
“Please, call me Margo. I didn’t realize we’d started the games already.” She picked her way through the taller grass as Chi led her along the side of the castle, and up an outer staircase. “I’m a little surprised. Karen was a huge fan. She had tattoos and everything. I’m sure she’s going to be kicking herself all the way home. She didn’t even get to see her idols.”
“Being a fan from a distance is one thing. Dealing with the reality of what we are is entirely different.”
Chi reached behind her and lifted Margo’s carryon along with her own camera, not even breathing heavily as she continued to climb up the circling stairs. Margo was panting behind her, wishing she hadn’t worn her heels. “Is that what this contest—this show is about? Reality? And not to complain or anything, but why am I coming into the castle this way, when everyone else went through the front door? Is this some sort of tower or turret?”
Chi disappeared through the door with her luggage. Margo was relieved that they were finally there and she could catch her breath. She lost it again when she saw where she’d been taken.
The room took up the entire top floor of the tower. Not at all what she was expecting a bedroom in an old, drafty Scottish castle to look like. It was sinful. The bed was decadent, something out of Arabian Nights, with a silken coverlet in varying shades of rust and gold. The carved headboard was exquisitely detailed. Margo would guess Moroccan or African, matching the bureau and dressing table. “I think there’s been some mistake.”
“No mistake, Margo.” Chi smiled kindly. “I had very specific instructions. Take a shower. Relax. I have to go make sure Liam isn’t getting into any trouble—the dog.” She chuckled. Margo tried to protest, but Chi held up her hand. “If you have any more questions you can ask Esther, or Thomas when he finally shows himself. My best advice to you? I know Thomas Lyons well. Unless you wa
nt to be caught…wear comfortable running shoes.”
She opened what looked like a bookcase and disappeared down the hallway. A hidden door. Now that was more of what Margo had been expecting. She plopped on the bed and looked in the mirror on the dressing table across the room. What the hell was going on?
Did they know? It wouldn’t be that hard to find out what she did for a living. Maybe this was all it was after all. Actors with a unique idea, and fantastic marketing skills. She slipped off her heels and headed to the bathroom. Why was she disappointed?
Thomas. Margo barely acknowledged the luxurious, modern bathroom, going directly to the shower faucets and turning them on. Slipping off her clothes in an absentminded way, she finally admitted the truth. A part of her had wanted it to be real. Had wanted Thomas Lyons to be real. Wanted his growled promise and private flirtations to be on the level.
Had he always known who she worked for? Saint created games for a living, he must know about tracking IP addresses and discovering things about people they didn’t want known. It would have been easy enough for him to find out and fill Thomas in.
She stepped beneath the hot spray and dipped her chin, letting the water beat down on her aching neck muscles. Maybe this was better. It would make it easier to do her job if she wasn’t really a part of the show. If they already wanted the same thing her boss did.
Fame.
Still, she wasn’t quite ready to let go of her fantasy. She almost dreaded meeting the Shifting Reality star, dreaded having the last of her illusions shattered. She closed her eyes and saw him so clearly she almost gasped. He stood before her in the shower, that dangerous smile, those brilliant green eyes studying her body.
“So beautiful, my Kittysnapdragon. Sweet Margo. I wish that I could touch you.”
Her eyes opened. That voice didn’t sound like a fantasy. “Thomas? Thomas Lyons?” She looked through the steam, along the walls for speakers. She opened the shower curtain, but no one was there. It had echoed off the tile, sounded so real. “I have a good imagination. But not that good.”
No response. “Seriously, I was told the bathrooms were private.” Nothing.
Margo shook her head. She supposed tequila mixed with jet lag could have her mind playing tricks on her. That, along with her natural paranoia of hidden cameras. But she could have sworn she really heard that familiar, growling drawl.
God, she loved his voice. The first time she’d heard it, her thighs had actually trembled. One of the regulars in the chat room, an amateur deejay, created a club mix with Thomas describing how much the male of his species enjoyed oral sex. Margo had listened to that song with her vibrator in hand more times than she wanted to count, imagining him acting out his words on her. She’d always been a sucker for dirty talk.
Thankful for the loofa she’d unwrapped before she came into the shower, she poured lavender body wash on the hard sponge and scrubbed her body briskly. I’m gonna wash that shifter right outta my head.
Little voice, if you don’t stop singing I won’t be responsible for my actions.
Touchy, the little voice inside her huffed, still humming.
The friction against her skin hardened her nipples, made her think of calloused fingers and rough tongues. She shivered despite the scalding water. Everything made her think of him. Her eyes drifted shut again, and the motions of her hand guiding the loofa slowed, lightly scraping and caressing her belly and breasts.
There he was. Waiting for her to fall under his spell. He licked his lips, lowering his head to trace his tongue along her collarbone, his hand slipping between her thighs. “Yes.”
She leaned against the tiled walls as his fingers slid through her slick arousal. He knew exactly how she liked to be touched. How sensitive her clit was. How to curve his thick fingers inside her just so.
His other hand fondled one of her breasts, pinching her nipple in a way that had her neck arching, a moan slipping from between her open lips.
“So hot. You are stunning, Margo. I can’t wait to taste you. All of you.”
“God, yes.” She didn’t open her eyes, didn’t question where the voice was coming from. She was already too close. Too ready for him. Primed for his touch. “Taste me. Fuck me, Thomas. Please.”
He’d never been so hard. Thomas Lyons had always been known for his sexual prowess, his libidinous leanings, but he couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted anyone this much.
Maybe it hadn’t been right to install the cameras and sound system in her bathroom and bedroom. He’d made sure they were separate from the main website feed, separate from the rest of the house. Even he had a limit to his perversions. He’d only meant to ensure she had made it safely to her room, that she hadn’t left with those other two. He’d seen her stripping off her clothes, and he’d been trapped. Ensnared.
He’d studied her body, her face. She had the look of a graceful doe. Big, deep set eyes and silky dark hair, her long graceful neck arching as the water sluiced over her skin. She was Audrey Hepburn with curves and muscle tone. Elegant, classy. And she inspired in him an irresistible desire to muss her up. He couldn’t leave his room, couldn’t tear his eyes from the screen of his personal laptop. Not now. Not until he saw her come.
He unbuttoned his jeans, the hardening erection painful against the denim, and growled into the microphone at her request. “You want to be fucked, baby? You want to come?” She nodded, her eyes still closed, and he bit his lip. It took every bit of willpower he owned not to race to her room and give her exactly what they wanted. Show be damned. Only a few more hours. But in the meantime… “Take the showerhead in your hand and get on your knees.”
His fist wrapped around his aching cock, fangs piercing his lower lip, causing a sweet sting as she complied without hesitation. “Good girl. That spray is hard, isn’t it, Margo? Spread your legs a little more, that’s right. Oh, kitten. That is the sweetest ass I’ve ever seen. Aim the spray between those creamy thighs for me. Let me fuck you like I’m dying to.”
Her broken groan as the water hit her just right made Thomas’s jaw clench. She was amazing. Totally open, free and sensual in a way that made him want to shout to the rooftops. He hadn’t been able to catch her scent yet, not amidst all the new aromas bustling around the castle, but he was reacting like a cat who’d found his match. Already she was driving him insane. The head of his penis pearled with evidence of his own arousal, and he wet his palm with it, stroking himself to the rhythm of her hips as she thrust against the shower’s jets.
“Your pussy is tight around my cock, Margo. Can you feel me? Feel me fucking you?” She nodded, and he purred. “That’s good. Show me how badly you want it, kitten.”
His body heated, balls tightening and erection thickening as he continued to watch her. He couldn’t take his gaze off her perfect curves. He wanted to bury his face between her thighs, wanted to fill his hands with her flesh. He was close to coming in his hand like a boy with his first porn video, merely from watching her image on his screen.
She cried out, and he knew she was climaxing. He watched her body arch, her head thrown back in pleasure, and his body demanded he join her. Powerful jolts of energy pumped up his thighs and spine, down his cock. He growled long and loud at his release, knowing it wasn’t enough, would never be enough until he was truly inside her.
He watched the vision on his monitor pull herself up on shaky limbs, pushing back her hair, replacing the shower nozzle and tilting her face into the water. She shook her head, muttering, “No more tequila.” He couldn’t help but smile.
He pulled off his shirt and wiped his hand, his cock, still erect, despite his orgasm. Severing the connection, he felt a pang of loss as her image disappeared from view. He chuckled morosely as he headed to his own bathroom. It made no sense. Until today he hadn’t seen her. Had only spoken with her in a damn chat room. And yet he wanted her.
His kind were tactile, they lived in the present and reacted to what they could see and touch. The ghosts of bed partners
past had more than enough proof that for Thomas, out of sight was indeed out of mind.
He had family who reveled in their monogamy, were possessive and passionate and sure they would die without the other by their side. Life mates. But all those stories began the same way. “I caught her scent, and I knew…”
Thomas had been restless, which was how this whole thing started in the first place, but those kinds of shackles weren’t what he was looking for. No. This was just an aberration. He wasn’t used to verbal foreplay. Wasn’t used to waiting for gratification. Once he’d had her he would feel better. More himself. He had to be. It was what the fans of Shifting Reality were expecting, what they deserved since, whether they knew it or not, the website would close when the contest was over.
One week. One week with Margo. That would barely be enough time for all he wanted to do with her. To her. He quickened his pace.
Thomas was hungry, and dinner couldn’t come soon enough.
Chapter Four
Margo sat quietly at the large, formal dining table, listening to her fellow contestants chatter. She was still distracted by her earlier experience in the shower. When the water had cooled she’d stepped out of the enclosure and wrapped herself in a plush green towel. She’d looked in drawers and behind the medicine cabinet, but she hadn’t seen any camera equipment or mics anywhere.
Still, she was suspicious. Nothing like that had ever happened to her before. She’d never been able to hear his voice in her fantasies, yet today she had. As though he’d been speaking directly to her. And her body had responded. She’d lost control, had one of the strongest orgasms of her life, with or without a partner.
She’d carefully dressed in her best battle armor; charcoal slacks with a high waist and an ivory blouse of silk and lace with pearl buttons along the wrists. It made her feel professional, cool, a little untouchable. Unfortunately, she couldn’t take Chi’s advice and wear sneakers, so she’d slipped into some black kitten flats and called it a compromise.
My Shifter Showmance: Shifting Reality, Book 1 Page 3
