Body Temperature and Rising - Book One of the Lakeland Heatwave Trilogy (16 page)

Then everything inside him froze. There in front of him on a ledge like a stage, there displayed for him to see, was Marie, kneeling, head thrown back, breasts rising rapidly in a desperate pull for oxygen. At her back, looming in a pall of darkness that felt thicker than the deepest part of the cave, yet burning brighter than fire was Deacon. One hand stroking her cheek, the other roaming freely over her body. 

And Tim couldn’t move. It was as though he had turned to stone like the very slate beneath his feet. Deacon’s laugh echoed off the walls of the cave. ‘She is mine, Mr Meriwether, and has been since the moment I first touched her. She now lives only to satisfy my will. And we both know what my will is, do we not?’

The scream, the rage, the fear that roiled beneath Tim’s breast bone were as trapped as he was. He could neither close his eyes nor look away, as Deacon lovingly, tenderly took Marie’s face in his hands, and with one sharp twist snapped her neck. Her eyes fluttered, she uttered a single gasp of surprise, then she slumped. 

The cry was feral, erupting from his throat like gravel on bare flesh, as he shoved his way up from the dream world fighting off the duvet, desperately looking around him struggling to remember where he was. 

‘Tim! Tim it’s all right. It’s a dream, just a dream.’ And Marie was there in his arms alive, warm, breathing, not making him burn low in his belly, but making him ache in ways living flesh ached for other living flesh, in ways the living needed each other. He scooped her in his arms and held her so tight that she squirmed for breath, held her so tight that he was reminded of his own aches and pains. 

Then with a visceral need that felt as though it would break him apart, he pushed her down on the bed and she yielded as he opened her legs with his knees and found her warm and slick and ready. 

He could offer no more than a few thrusts before he shuddered his release into her in harsh grunts that made his injuries hurt, but those wounds seemed minor as he gathered her to him, finishing her with his fingers while she whispered calming words in his ear, words that barely registered in his fevered brain and mattered most because they were humid with the body heat of the living breathing woman in his arms. 

Afterwards she slept. He did not. 

Chapter 16

‘Do I have to do this again? You see I can do it. I just don’t like it.’ Marie chaffed her arms of the goose flesh that engulfed her every time she had to force Anderson out of the flesh. And this time Sky had insisted that she not let him come back into the flesh until she instructed her to do so.

‘Do not fret so, my love,’ Anderson was saying as he came back into the flesh at Marie’s command. ‘It is no hardship for me, and I do not suffer from it.’

‘Perhaps not.’ She shivered. ‘But I do.’

‘Please feel at ease, my darling. It is to your great credit and for your protection that you do this. That you can keep me out of the flesh at will is unprecedented. And that without the aid of your mirror,’ he shivered slightly. ‘The experience is extraordinary.’

‘I think it’s just your manly charm that gets her all goose pimply, Anderson.’ Sky laid a hand on his shoulder. ‘Perhaps you should let me. I’m not noted for my manly charms.’

Anderson lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. ‘A fact I would not argue, my dear Sky, but in truth, I think you are perhaps a little jealous that Marie is lavishing her exquisite attention on me rather than you.’

Tim could hardly sympathise with Marie’s plight when, so far, he’d not even managed to bring a ghost into the flesh, let alone take that flesh away. Several ghosts, apparently volunteers for the training session, milled around the study of Elemental Cottage. Perhaps it was only his imagination, but he was sure some of them were starting to grumble under their breath, or lack of breath, and he was certain he was beginning to get a few barbed looks from some of the more surly ones. If that didn’t make things bad enough, he’d been left under the tutelage of Fiori, who was cool and neutral, and very much the professional he’d never known her to be.

Tim found it difficult to concentrate in the touchy-feely presence of the Elementals, and seeing Marie’s rapport with them, especially with Anderson, was in no small part, responsible for his sour mood. He liked Anderson. He liked the man a lot. More than he was really comfortable with, actually. But he wasn’t nearly as relaxed in the company of the dead as Marie seemed to be. He figured that was his problem. He still felt like an outsider. He couldn’t get past his memories of arguing with Fiori one day in the flesh, then seeing her the next and knowing that she was dead. The thought still churned his stomach and made him ache inside. 

He and Marie were attended only by the three ghosts at the moment, and the volunteers. He didn’t know where Tara was, but there was little she could add to the exercise, since her flesh was as permanent as his and Marie’s. 

Maybe if Fiori would lighten up a little and be a little more touchy-feely, a little more playful, like he remembered her, he would feel less like an outsider. But she was all business. Oh, she was endlessly patient, providing him with astute advice, which didn’t seem to help. But she provided no extras. 

No extras was the real problem. She was still Fiori. She was round in all the right places, she had eyes he could drown in and lips that could do things he hadn’t even known lips were capable of. And her legs, my God her legs were endless and her hair smelled of geranium. Well it used to anyway. And soft, so soft. He remembered how it cascaded against his groin when she took his cock in her mouth, how it tickled when she bobbed up and down, how it fell over her face when she straddled him and rode him how he curled his fingers in it when he kissed her, when he couldn’t hold her tight enough as he was about to come. Christ! Why did he have to think of all those things now? She was dead. That was the problem. She had been destroyed by some bastard of a demon, and he’d not been able to help. Just like in the dream, he’d not been able to help.

A yelp from Marie drew his attention as Sky groped her breasts just before vanishing into thin air.

Anderson chuckled. ‘I must admit, Sky, darling, I lack your finesse.’

Tim tried to ignore Anderson snogging Marie like he would swallow her whole and keep his focus on the slender female ghost in a black cocktail dress reaching out her hand to him. With one hand he grasped the mirrored amulet, with the other, he reached out to her, seeing the spell in his head, feeling the beginnings of it weave together like ribbons around a maypole. He felt the cool of her hand, solid in his, then the gradual warming of the flesh, he heard her sigh, and he was just getting ready to pull her to him when his vision blurred, for an instant his mind flashed on Fiori and Deacon. The ghost cried out in alarm and vanished into thin air. Tim fell backward on his arse, and Fiori’s patience snapped.

‘Damn it, Tim! Pay attention.’

‘I am paying attention,’ he growled. ‘That’s the fucking problem.’

‘You need to eat something. You’re getting tired,’ she said, pushing the hair out of her face.

Eating something was not what he needed, but he didn’t argue. He felt like the room was closing in on him and on his cock. He pushed past her and out the back door into the quiet of the secluded garden that looked more like a miniature wilderness. He shuddered as he recalled the dream of the night before and took a deep breath. It was a dream, just a fucking dream!

When he was sure he was alone, he released a shaky sigh and fumbled with his fly, cursing under his breath that he should be reduced to this. No matter how hard he tried, his focus seemed to remain on his cock. Even last night, how could he have taken Marie, and so harshly, after such a hideous nightmare, but his need had been nearly unbearable, as it was now. There was no help for it. He released his penis into his hand and sucked a heavy breath at the feel of his own lust. My God, he’d been horny every second since he’d been here. It didn’t matter if it was practising a simple binding spell with Anderson and wanting to rip the man’s clothes of and play show and tell, or helping Sky lay the table and wanting to flip up the little skirt she wore and bury his cock in her soft spot. He wanted sex, he craved it. Jesus, how he craved it! Perhaps he was just overly tired, and that messed with his self-control, but still, how could he be as tired as he was and need to fuck so badly? 

He shrugged his jeans down far enough to release his balls, and then he found his rhythm, cupping and kneading himself with one hand and dry humping his fist with the other. It wouldn’t take him long to come, not as full as he was. Then maybe he could focus enough to actually cast the spell he could so clearly see in his head before he needed to stop for another wank. Or maybe he and Marie could have a nooner. God, was she anywhere nearly as horny as he was? So deep was his concentration that it took him a second to realise Tara was standing next to him. 

‘You need some help with that?’

‘I don’t need any help. Go away and let me finish.’

‘This is my house, I don’t have to go anywhere.’ She slapped his hand aside. ‘That’s your problem, Tim, you never seem to figure out that you don’t have to do this alone, you need help. We all need help. And sex magic, especially, is not a one-person job. Get used to it.’ Then holding his gaze, she spat in her hand and gave him a long hard stroke. 

‘Jesus!’ he breathed.

‘Feels better, doesn’t it?’

He thrust and mumbled something incoherent. With his free hand, he reached out and stroked her breasts, and instantly her nipples beaded beneath her blouse. Still holding his gaze, she unbuttoned. There was, blessedly no bra, and his hands were suddenly like homing devices, cupping her, kneading her, feeling the exquisite weight of her. Surprisingly the scars he’d seen last night in the Room of Reflection were not there.

Noticing his gaze, she forced a smile. ‘They weren’t physical scars you saw last night, Tim. I told you I was exposed.’

With the hand not fisting his cock, she undid her shorts and slipped her fingers down inside. He watched as she shifted and wriggled until the hitch of her breath and the flutter of her eyelids told him she’d found what she wanted.

‘Did you fuck Marie last night?’ she breathed.

‘That’s hardly your business is it?’ God, he didn’t want to argue, at least not until after she’d made him come. 

‘It is my business,’ she grunted, now undulating her hips in circular movements around her fingers. ‘You’re no good to anyone if your cock hasn’t been taken care of.’

‘Yes! I fucked her last night? All right? And this morning. Twice. And it seems I’m still no good to anyone. Are you satisfied?’

‘Apparently you’re not.’ She offered him a half smile.

‘It’s just that, bloody hell, it’s not enough.’

‘It never is, Tim. That’s why we have each other.’ 

Between her tugging at his cock and finger fucking her cunt, her breasts juddered and bounced against his groping hands. Her nipples were gumdrop stiff, a thought that invited taste, and she didn’t deny him as he settled in to nurse. 

She spat again and the feel of her warm saliva and her tight, powerful grip, the grip that wielded a sword, was too much. Three hard thrusts in her bruising grasp, and he grunted his load in arc after arc out over a pink tea rose, as she shuddered her own release into her hand. 

Then she wiped her fingers on her panties and zipped her shorts. 

‘I’m sorry,’ he breathed, as he watched her. ‘I could have offered more than a wank session.’

She gave him a pained smile. ‘Perhaps you could have, but I couldn’t.’

He ran a hand through the cascade of dark hair, something he’d wanted to do ever since he met Tara Stone, and her breath hitched. 

‘I don’t understand.’

He had never seen Tara blush before, and though the emotion that crossed her face was so fast most people would have missed it, he didn’t. She stepped away from his touch and avoided his gaze as she buttoned her blouse. ‘I don’t fuck the living. It’s a bond that costs too much.’

Before he could respond, she was suddenly all business as usual. ‘In future, if you’re too squeamish to take your pleasure with a ghost, find Marie or myself. We’ll pleasure you, but don’t let it go too long like you did today.’

He nodded toward the house and it was his turn to blush. ‘Why can’t I do what I’m supposed to?’

‘I can’t tell you that, Tim. You have to work it out. You know the spell. You can use it. I promise you can. You have to find your way to it. And really, you and Fiori need to get over what happened. We don’t need past hard feelings giving Deacon something else to sink his teeth into. Now, go to the house and eat something, then get back to practice. Tomorrow you’ll have your first ride, so there’s not a lot of time to spare.’ She turned on her heels and disappeared into the depth of the garden leaving him to tuck himself back in. He wished he had as much confidence in what was supposed to happen as she did.

‘We’ve had three peaceful days now, three days with no sign of Deacon, and every day that passes, I get a bit more nervous. If circumstances were different, we’d have a lot more time to prepare you two, but we have what we’ve been given, and I don’t think we dare wait any longer.’ Tara took a deep breath and paced the carpet in the study. The others all sat around, watching her, waiting.

‘Traditionally, as you both know, a ghost rider’s magic is for the enfleshment of ghosts, to offer them, for a time, the pleasures of the flesh.’ She raised a hand as she saw Tim bristle. ‘There was never an exchange of money, nor was the gift ever given with any conditions attached. However, the gift freely given comes with some pretty powerful fringe benefits. Each ride makes the rider age more slowly. Each ride makes the rider stronger, less vulnerable to human disease and more quickly to heal. Each ride strengthens the magic of the rider, and it’s the last two fringe benefits we’re after right now.’ 

Tim wondered how the hell he was supposed to reap any of these fringe benefits when he still couldn’t do the spell, a fact which everyone in Elemental Cottage had managed to avoid talking about as though no one had noticed.

‘There’s a mutual sharing that takes place between the rider and the ghost.’ Tara’s gaze settled on Tim and Marie, but Tim felt like she was staring at him. ‘The ghosts desire the pleasures of the flesh, the release they cannot obtain without a body to obtain it in, and riders have unusually high libidos, the need for sex is constant, though often transmuted into other forms of magic. That sexual drive, that desire to fuck, to put it crudely, is what drives all of the magic we do. It’s the creative energy at work in us.’

She paced some more, then came to stand in front of the two of them. ‘We’ve given you all the training we can for what must happen next. But the ultimate test of a rider’s power can come only through the ride.’ She heaved a sigh. ‘And that is what you both still lack.’

All eyes were on him, Tim was certain of it. He felt a blush crawl up his throat and over his cheeks. He could feel the heat rising around his neck and ears. ‘I can’t do it,’ he blurted. ‘You know I can’t do it.’

‘Of course you can do it.’ Fiori practically shook with her anger. ‘If you’d just get over yourself and get on with it. Or is it that you just don’t want to fuck ghosts?’ 

‘Fiori, no one has asked for your opinion on the subject,’ Tara said with an even voice. ‘And if you can’t be civil, there’s the door.’ 

Sky took the redhead’s hand, settling her on the sofa.

Tim ignored her outburst and turned his attention to Marie. ‘Marie, I know you’re ready. You were ready from the beginning. But I can’t. I really can’t.’

Fiori cursed under her breath.