Curse of Brandon Lupinus

by Shelley Munro

  “What are you doing?”

  “A surprise. Do you like surprises?”

  “No,” he said, his husky voice blunt.

  “You know for a dream lover you’re not very cooperative.” Just my luck. I can’t even get things right in my dreams.

  “I’m cooperating.”

  “Humph,” Jess snorted. She knew some men were threatened by the fact she was so capable. Things like being able to maintain a vehicle and basic carpentry skills meant she was self-reliant. All the men she’d met and dated had acted okay with her independence at first, but cracks soon appeared when she could outdo them in some of the traditional male roles. Her last boyfriend had told her all she lacked was a penis. His crude suggestion that she purchase a dildo and do everything herself had been the final straw in their relationship.

  Shaking herself mentally, Jess warmed the lotion in her hands, savoring the light scent of vanilla that filled the air. She spread it across his broad shoulders with a gliding motion, varying the pressure while enjoying the sensation of silky skin and the underlying muscles. Slowly, she worked her thumbs down either side of his spine then paused to straddle his legs without placing any weight on him.

  She squeezed more lotion on her hands and concentrated on his tight buttocks. With vigorous kneading strokes she manipulated his flesh, his soft groan telling her he was enjoying the torture. Good because so was she. The faint tang of arousal combined with vanilla. Her breasts were pulled tight, a delicious ache building in her body. Jess pulled on his butt cheeks, drawing the soft flesh backward and forward so she manipulated his genital area without directly touching. Drawing an unsteady breath, she continued with her sensual torture until she heard a growl.

  A grin formed, replaced by a yelp. Brandon moved without warning, turning onto his back, his silver eyes glittering up at her.

  Jess glanced at his groin. His cock jutted out, the head swollen and ready for action. Jess moved again, leaning over him. With a lustful sigh, she took him into her mouth without any further preliminaries. Glancing up at his lean face, she saw he watched her, his eyes so full of heat it was a wonder she didn’t burn and smolder.

  She smoothed her tongue across the tiny slit at the end, collecting a drop of fluid before sucking greedily and licking. Jess made lots of appreciative noise, some mumbled nonsense, but he seemed to enjoy her ministrations as she moved her hands up and down his shaft.

  Brandon tensed, a gruff growl vibrating through his body. He threaded his fingers through her hair, lightly massaging her scalp at the same time. His large frame shook but she continued to lick and lave his sensitive tip. Suddenly he spasmed and semen shot into her mouth. Jess swallowed, the nutty taste bursting upon her taste buds. She slowed her licking and sucking, allowing him to guide her by the pressure of his fingers tangled in her hair until he stilled. After a final swipe of her tongue she let his semi-erect cock fall from her mouth.

  “Ah, woman.” Brandon reached down and hauled her up his body, making the whole move effortless. He covered Jess, pinning her to the mattress and slammed his mouth down on hers. Raw need filled Jess as she sank into the kiss. Desire stabbed through her pussy and she realized how Brandon filled the gap in her life. She had family and friends who loved her, a new home and business, the pleasure of doing something she enjoyed. A dream lover who wasn’t afraid to let her be herself.

  “Please,” she whispered against her lips. “I need you inside me.”

  Brandon lowered his head to tease one nipple with his lips. He tweaked the other with his fingers, dragging a moan from deep in her throat. Her nipple popped from his mouth, wet and taut from his attentions. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I need you again, and I’m going to thrust inside you hard.”

  Jess shivered.

  “I’m going to go so deep you’ll feel me clear to your toes.”

  Jess’ pussy clenched with longing.

  “Yeah, sweetheart. You’ll get even wetter for me than you are now.” Brandon’s hand snaked down between her thighs and teased her labia. His talented fingers stroked down her cleft and skimmed across her clit with a light touch. “Yeah, even wetter than this, sweetheart.”

  She was so wet the slide of his fingers produced a loud squelch. Jess should have felt embarrassed but instead she moaned, the warmth of his fingers searing her swollen flesh. “Are you just gonna talk about it?”

  “Don’t you like my dirty talk?” he asked with an air of innocence while his busy fingers strummed across her nub.

  “I prefer an action man myself,” Jess tossed back, gulping at the spike of sensation that rippled right to her toes. His action was pretty good but she wouldn’t want it to go to his head. He was way too independent for a dream creation. Jess frowned wondering if she should take this as a sign.

  “Ask and you shall receive.” Brandon’s grin warmed her through and seconds later he penetrated, going deep as he’d promised. The throbbing hardness of him filled her to perfection. She sucked in a wildly excited breath, clawing frantically at his back as he withdrew and thrust deep again.

  “Oh yes. Like that,” she said, releasing a breath on a moan. God, yes. He’d managed the perfect angle. Absolutely perfect. Her heart thundered with each powerful thrust of his body. Jess bit down on his shoulder and felt the corresponding jump of his cock deep in her womb.

  His pace increased until her womb tightened and exploded in a series of toe-curling spasms. Jess groaned her pleasure and thanked the gods for sending her a dream lover.

  Chapter Three

  The next morning Jess yanked at yet another weed then sat back on her heels to wipe her brow. The low drone of a motor sent her gaze darting to the driveway. A visitor? Seconds later the mail van pulled up in front of the manor entrance. Jess rose and went to greet the postie. A middle-aged woman with steel-gray hair climbed from the van. She waved and walked around to the rear of her vehicle to retrieve a large box and several letters.

  “You must be Jess Whittlebury,” she said. “I’m Lois Marsters, the local postie. I need a signature for the parcel. Guessed you were busy so thought I’d save you a trip into the village.” She thrust out her free hand before handing over the parcel and mail.

  And she wanted to snoop. Jess smiled, shook her hand then accepted the parcel and bundle of envelopes. “Thanks.”

  The woman studied the rose beds, freshly painted wishing well and the trimmed lavender bushes with avid curiosity before turning back to Jess. “Big job.”

  “Yes.”

  The postie’s gaze focused on a spot behind her left shoulder. “Ah, I see you have help.”

  Huh? Jess whirled around and almost swallowed her tongue. Her dream lover stood by the wishing well, a wide grin on his face. Jess’ heart kicked up into a racy beat. Her lover. Real?

  The shuffle of feet on the gravel drive reminded Jess they had company and she couldn’t blurt out stunned questions or go into hysterics right then. It would be all over the village before she could take the man to task. Jess swallowed. “Um…yes,” she managed.

  The man prowled toward her with the grace of a wild beast. Dressed in faded denims, a sparkling white shirt and boots, Brandon looked good enough to eat. Jess licked her lips. Oh boy. She’d practically devoured him during their last torrid session. But he was real. How? Why? She didn’t get it. She fixed him with a steely gaze but instead of appearing chastened, his grin merely widened.

  “I’m Brandon, a friend of Jessica’s.” He picked up the postie’s hand and kissed the back of it with the finesse of an Eighteenth Century gentleman. Then, as a blush settled in the postie’s cheeks, Brandon stepped up beside Jess.

  “Pleased to meet you both. I’m glad you’re not here on your own. You’ve heard about the attacks? There was another one not far from the church. Old Mrs. Cooper was struck from behind and had her purse stolen. They left her bleeding on the ground.”

  “Is she all right?” Jess asked.

  “They had to take her to the hospital.” The postie scowled. “
But she’s at home now. You take care.”

  “I’ll be with Jess,” Brandon said, slipping his arm around her waist. “I’ll make sure no harm befalls her.”

  Jess’ breath eased out with an audible hiss. Until he’d touched her she’d still doubted. There was nothing dreamlike about this male. She could feel him. Smell his delicious masculine scent while his husky voice did something to her nether region she wasn’t comfortable thinking about in public. Jess was too astonished for anger, but boy he’d better have explanations. And he could wipe that smirk off his face. Jess pinched him hard on the butt. The wretch barely blinked.

  Yep, A-1 supreme, solid male.

  Brandon stood with his arm curved around Jess’ waist as they watched the postie maneuver her red van under an overhanging oak branch. Elation bubbled in him. The desire to shift to wolf and throw back his head in a celebratory howl clawed at his control.

  Jess could see him. The other woman had seen him.

  He was no longer a transparent entity drifting aimlessly around his old estate. Somehow a second chance was his for the taking. Brandon didn’t know how long this gift would last, but determination to grasp every opportunity pounded him.

  “Pleasant woman, but a trifle nosy,” he said.

  Jess tugged from his grasp and whirled on him. “You have some explaining to do, mister.” She punctuated each word with an index finger poked in his chest, her brown eyes flashing with fire.

  “Jess, I can explain.” Brandon restrained his chuckle judging from her expression amusement would be ill-advised.

  Her brow wrinkled in disbelief. “Do it then. Explain to me why I shouldn’t call the local cops and have you thrown into jail.”

  God’s teeth. How did he explain to Jess he was a ghost? And a werewolf if he wanted preciseness. Somehow he thought Jess would want every detail, but would she believe? He sucked in a hasty breath, taking pleasure in the simple act. A quick glance at her face started nerves dancing, something he, as the lord of the manor, had never suffered before.

  “Quit stalling. You entered my bed under false pretences. I have no idea how you did it.” Hot color suffused her cheeks. “I thought I was dreaming.”

  He noticed she didn’t deny she’d enjoyed their lovemaking. “I’m a ghost.” Brandon watched the disbelief leap onto Jess’ face.

  “Pull the other leg. It plays There’s a sucker born every day.”

  He wasn’t used to women speaking to him with sarcasm lacing their words. “I am Brandon Lupinus, born in the year 1701—”

  “You’re wearing jeans!” she said scornfully. “Any idiot knows a male in the Eighteenth Century wore breeches.”

  That he could change. Brandon flicked his wrist toward his body, willing them to the garb of his time—black satin breeches, a gray shirt and a darker gray waistcoat with black and silver embroidery to match his eyes. “How’s this? Or would you prefer something more formal?” Another flick of his wrist and his clothes changed to full evening regalia complete with hat. Brandon swept off his hat and bowed deeply, starting to enjoy her reaction, complete with rounded eyes and gaping mouth.

  “I…um…a ghost?” Jess backed up a couple of steps.

  “Too formal for you?” Brandon flicked his wrist again and willed another change. His clothes faded leaving nothing but skin.

  “Will you quit that?” she snapped, taking a bracing breath.

  Brandon watched the rise and fall of her breasts with interest. “I thought you liked me this way.”

  “I do,” she grumbled, squeezing her eyes tightly shut. “You’re exploiting my weakness and that’s got to stop!”

  Brandon arched his brows. “Why?”

  She spluttered unintelligible sounds, her mouth opening and closing like a fish on dry ground. “I need coffee.”

  Jess spun away from temptation and stomped up the path toward the front door of the manor. She resisted the siren urge to glance over her shoulder and ogle the picture of masculine beauty displayed for her viewing pleasure. Not that she needed another look. His image was seared into her brain. Tall. Long, dark hair. Broad shoulders. Muscular. Big co… A burst of awareness thrummed to life at the apex of her thighs. Jess sucked in a deep breath, causing her nipples to brush against the cotton of her bra. The sensation sashayed straight to her clit and she gasped. Damn! This wasn’t meant to happen.

  She yanked the door open, shot inside then slammed it after her.

  “Wait for me.” Brandon’s head popped through the closed door, a fierce glower on his face. “God’s teeth.” His shoulders appeared and finally, after a torrid curse, he stood in the vestibule clothed in the jeans and T-shirt again. “That never used to hurt so much. I’ve gained substance but lost the ability to move freely.”

  Jess shook her head, bemused by the fact he really was a ghost. And her lover. “But I thought the ghost was a wolf,” she said suddenly.

  “I am. Brandon Lupinus.” Brandon transformed before her eyes into a huge black wolf. He prowled toward her, the nails on his paws clicking on the old tiled floor.

  All the better to eat you with, my dear. The words from the fairy tale popped into her mind and she backed up rapidly. The wolf followed, its moist breath burning her leg right through her jeans. Jess found herself trapped in the corner with the coatrack. Brandon the wolf kept coming. He jumped up on his hind feet and balanced with his paws on her shoulders. All she could see were teeth. Big. White. Sharp. Jess swallowed.

  “He is a ghost,” she muttered. “He can’t hurt me.”

  Brandon’s mouth opened wider revealing even more teeth. A long pink tongue snaked out and slapped her on the cheek. Tasting…ready for dinner. Fear made Jess’ heart stall for an instant. She trembled and closed her eyes, unable to look danger directly in the face for a second longer. But instead of a hungry bite, Jess felt a gentle nibble. Her eyes flew open to see Brandon in his human form grinning down at her. Jess’ knees buckled with relief and he hauled her up against his chest.

  “I haven’t eaten anyone before.” He playfully nibbled at her chin. “You’re the only woman who’s ever tempted me.” The grin left his face and the color of his eyes changed to pure silver. “You make me hunger.”

  The sensual heat in his eyes lured Jess. Oh she hungered too. Suddenly it didn’t matter if he were different—a werewolf ghost who haunted her manor. She was different—marching out of step with every man she’d ever met. Jess inhaled deeply, sucking in his spicy scent as she decided to take a leap of faith. She drew his head down and kissed him. Slowly. Lingering. And with no hidden agenda. This was sex. This was mating, and Jess thought it might even be love.

  They finally drew back, both breathing heavily. A teasing glint entered his eyes and Jess grabbed his wrist, reading his mind with ease.

  “Oh no you don’t! I can’t concentrate when you’re naked.”

  “Spoilsport.”

  “I want to know why you’re a ghost.”

  The humor left his face, showing Jess another side of him. Tough. Determined. Strong. “I was cursed by a witch.”

  Jess took his hand and led him through to the kitchen. The vestibule was no place for a conversation like this. She pushed him into a chair at the wooden table she’d set up at the far end of the kitchen and went for drinks before changing her mind. This seemed like a brandy or port kind of discussion despite the time of day. Jess removed a decanter of port off the sideboard along with two glasses. She plunked them down in front of Brandon. “Pour.”

  The scent of robust fruit rose into the air as it sloshed into the two glasses. Brandon replaced the glass stopper and slid a glass in her direction.

  “It’s not a pretty story.” His glance held trepidation and self-loathing.

  Jess reached for his free hand and squeezed in silent support. “Tell me.”

  “I was part of a group. A gang you’d call it now. We played hard. Drinking. Gambling. Whoring. We were wild and out of control, and no one was willing to stop us because we were the sons of gentry.
I think the knowledge of the power we held over the community made us even more dangerous.” Brandon paused to take a sip of port. He snorted. “Last time I tried that, the bloody stuff poured out my ears. I don’t know what you’ve done to me but I like it.” He took another sip, seeming to savor the tart fruitiness as it slid down his throat.

  “And?” Jess said, prodding for more.

  “The last time we were together there were six of us. We drank steadily all day. The women we’d arranged to visit never arrived so my friends needed another distraction. We went hunting. For women. We mounted our horses and rode through the village rounding up every young maiden we could find.”

  Jess took a rapid sip of her port, not liking the way his story was heading. Her stomach twisted as she steeled herself to hear the entire tale.

  “At first I thought it was funny, but then I saw how terrified the maidens were and how set my friends were on having them.”

  “Rape?” Jess felt sick to her stomach, the port sliding around uneasily.

  “Aye, rape. It was wrong, dammit,” Brandon’s voice cracked, and he gulped at his port before speaking again. “We’d locked them in a stable stall and gone to the adjoining coaching house for ale and sustenance. I started having second and third thoughts. Dammit, what we did was wrong. The women were terrified. I’d had sex with some of them before. They had been willing, but that didn’t make what we were doing right. I pretended I wasn’t feeling well, and once my friends were settled in drinking, I crept out to the stables and freed the women. Unbeknown to me, one of my friends suspected and followed. He grabbed one of the women. Elsa.” Brandon’s face was pale, his hand wrapped around his glass so tightly it was a wonder the crystal didn’t break.

  “You tried to help.” Jess felt his pain along with lingering horror at the situation he described.

  “I didn’t do enough. Gerald, the leader of our group, raped Elsa, forcing me to watch.” Brandon shuddered. “There was blood. So much blood from her broken nose. A couple of the others took turns before Gerald decided I should be next.”