HauntMe (6 page)

Though she might have to give it to him.

Every time she generated sexual energy with Bram, it seemed
he got stronger. Or their connection got stronger—she wasn’t sure what it was.
But she needed some of that now.

Not that she wanted to do it with Greg in the room but what
choice did she have? All she could do was hope to bore them enough first. They
couldn’t find much glee in telling a hysterical woman about their evil plan,
Bond-villain style.

“Let me
go
!” she yelled, twisting in her chair.
“You’re going to pay for this!” Ugh, how clichéd. She was an actress, surely
she could come up with something better than that. Funny how the
improvisational skills take a hike when you’re tied to a chair and your life is
threatened. Still, she didn’t have to come up with stunning dialogue, simply
convince them that she was scared.

Which she was.

She thrashed. She pulled at the handcuffs, feeling droplets
of blood on her hands. She screamed. She shook the chair back and forth. She
wailed herself hoarse, letting her cries devolve into random grunts and huffs
as she contorted her body, keeping her legs firmly closed. No need for the full
show yet, at least not until she knew Bram was there.

“Bram?” she whispered into her shoulder.

Here, luv.
His voice in her head was faint but
present. Good.

“Argh! Get me
out
of here!” she screamed at Greg.
Then, muffling her voice again, “I need you to turn me on.”

She expected him to argue, but either he didn’t have enough
power to continue to speak at the moment or he understood. She felt a warm hand
on her thigh. It moved over her skin in a familiar pattern. She let a small
smile form on her lips. She thought about how much she missed wrapping her lips
around his cock, sucking it in deep, nearly choking on the length of it
pressing down into her throat. She thought of them wrapped around each other in
sixty-nine position, his face buried beneath her legs, his tongue teasing her
to completion.

The hairs on her arms were standing at attention.

Bram’s hand on her leg felt firmer, warmer. He
was
getting
stronger. There was no coldness to his touch now and his skin felt more as it
used to. When he’d been alive and still hers.

Mmm, I’ve missed you, luv. When this is over I want a
night with you all to myself.

Her robe was growing damp underneath her with the juices
leaking from her pussy. She could smell her own sex mixing with static in the
air as the connection between them grew stronger.

She let the rage over his death power her performance.

“I’m famous—you know that better than anyone! My agent is
going to kill you. Rachel is going to kill you. Not to mention the honchos at
the network!” She kept her voice high and whiny, the perfect starlet rant. Here
was hoping Greg wouldn’t realize she wasn’t exactly the right age for a starlet
hissy fit anymore. “You suck!” Okay, that was a little uninspired. She spat in
their general direction. Jose rolled his eyes. That seemed to be his signature
move.

Greg pulled out his cell phone again. This time there was no
Cherry Cherry
. He began to text aimlessly. Then his eyes grew brighter
and his thumbs quickened as he texted faster. He snickered and nudged Jose.
Jose didn’t bother to look.

Minerva wondered who he was texting.

Let me see.

She felt the air shift and knew Bram was moving to read the
screen. Was he able to read her thoughts now? Or just anticipating her next
move?

One of her best tricks as a fake psychic was to use
pre-learned knowledge about an audience member to prove her veracity. Tell them
something only they could know, and she couldn’t—in their shock, they’d forget
whispering it to their seatmate during the commercial break or telling a friend
in the washroom before the show, where her assistants could hear and pass it
on. They’d think she plucked the thought from their mind or learned it from the
ghost of a departed family member.

At first it scared the crap out of some people as much as it
awed them. But soon they saw she used her powers for good—or for ratings,
Minerva thought cynically to herself—and began to trust her. This time she was
going to stop right at scaring the crap out of them—she hoped.

And this time her assistant actually
was
a ghost.

Bram’s voice brushed by her ear.
Writing to his
girlfriend.
He read the text to her.

The phone played that Neil Diamond song again.

Greg
was
fucking Rachel.

Minerva gasped, almost losing hold of her tenuous moment of
self-control. This didn’t mean Rachel was involved with Victor. It couldn’t.

If it did she would be here, right? Here to taunt Minerva
with the knowledge?

Maybe that was coming next.

A tear trickled down her left cheek.

The warm wind of Bram’s presence moved beside her again. She
filed away the information in the text—Greg’s graphic description of what he
wanted to do to his lover, apparently Minerva’s producer and best friend
Rachel. He was absorbed in the texting now, with Jose watching, apparently having
overcome his boredom.

Now it was time to get stronger.

Minerva concentrated on Bram’s hand on her thigh, in between
the folds of her silk robe. She wore nothing underneath. He tickled the skin of
her thigh lightly with his ghostly fingers, being careful not to part the
fabric and expose any more of her than necessary.

I want to see you.

Her lips pulled involuntarily into a smile.

I can’t wait to see you.

She sank back into the chair. The handcuffs dug into her
wrists and she shifted. She had to get comfortable. This would only work if
they could both channel the sexual energy.

That’s it.

The sound of his voice calmed her. His fingers danced on her
thighs, massaging her, relaxing her. She slowed her breathing. If she were a
cat, the sound of his voice and the way he rubbed her legs would make her purr.
As it was she had to keep from speaking out loud, telling him how good he made
her feel.

She let her eyes partly close, aiming to forget her
surroundings but still be able to notice if the kid holding her captive had
moved. She focused on physical sensation. She could feel the cool wood of the
chair through the thin fabric covering her ass and against the bare skin on the
underside of her knees. Her hair tickled the back of her neck and the skin of
her shoulder where one side of the robe had fallen down. Her chest rose rapidly
in anticipation.

She could sense Bram above her. Though he wasn’t touching
her with his body yet, the weight of him and the warmth of him was palpable.
She inhaled deeply, that delicious Earl Grey citrus of him filling her. A small
whimper escaped her, almost inaudible, as his fingers massaged her legs,
running from her thighs down across her knees to her ankles and back up again.
The calluses on his thumbs rubbed against her skin.

You’re so soft, luv.

Minerva wished she could see him. It had been seven years.
Did she remember him correctly? She had loved the way his short, dark hair
seemed to suck in light. There were seven freckles on his left shoulder that
looked like the Big Dipper and a burn on the opposite thigh from an accident
with a Bunsen burner in a class he taught. His muscles rippled when they
fucked, the movement radiating out from his shoulders like the water of a lake
from a dropped stone. His lips were full and almost always smiling during sex
as they teased each other, only growing still and serious as he neared orgasm.

The heat of his mouth pressed a kiss against her knee. She
leaned back in the chair and stopped thinking about what she couldn’t see,
focusing instead on what she could feel.

Your skin tastes amazing.
His voice was stronger now,
fuller, and husky with desire.

He planted small, slow kisses up the length of her thigh,
starting at her knee and moving higher. Minerva’s fingers gripped each of the
chair arms, unable to move beyond where her wrists were cuffed. She spread her
legs wider, making sure the robe still covered the view, letting her husband’s
mouth get closer to her center.

His warm breath tickled the hair between her legs. The room
was quiet aside from the soft clicking of Greg’s texting and Minerva’s own
breaths coming faster and faster. Bram exhaled between her legs and moisture
seeped out of her.

The air felt electric. The more turned-on she got, the
stronger she felt.

Whoever said sex is power wasn’t kidding.

When his tongue began to trace her folds, gently at first,
the hairs on her arms rose to attention. Static crackled over her skin. She
could feel it in the hair on her head, in the curls around her cunt and even in
her eyelashes.

She could feel him sucking the juice out of her pussy, his
tongue lapping it faster into his mouth.

He said something she could barely hear—not because of
weakness now, but because he was muffled by the folds of her skin and the
insulation of her pubic hair. She thought it might have been,
You taste
delicious.
That was something he would say.

She let the electricity press her eyes open and looked down.
Was it her imagination or could she see the faint outline of Bram’s head moving
between her legs?

She squeezed her thighs closer together and felt his strong
jaw between them, working his tongue, flicking it against her clit. He licked
and sucked faster and her breathing quickened in time with it. When he sucked
her labia into his mouth again, this time so hard it almost hurt, she gasped,
spreading her legs wide, the silk of the robe falling open around her.

She heard a clatter as something fell to the floor. Minerva
looked up and saw Greg staring at her, wide-eyed.

Oops. She’d meant to go there but not just yet.

The men had their eyes focused on her now. Greg tapped his
partner and gestured at her. He made a jerking-off motion. They both stared,
transfixed. She ignored them.

You okay, luv?

“I’m fine,” she said beneath her breath, her lips barely
moving. “Let them watch. All the better to catch them off guard when we move.
Right now it’s just me and you, Bram.”

She closed her eyes again, leaving them slits to watch the
men by. She had to make sure they didn’t try anything while she was enjoying
herself—uh, she meant while powering up.
Just like Mario eating the
mushroom, Nerv
,she told herself.

She thrust her hips, pressing her pussy against Bram’s
mouth. His tongue plunged into her and she cried out with pleasure. An orgasm
built within her, starting at her clit and fluttering outward, up her canal,
around Bram’s tongue and filling her stomach with warmth. Her nipples, hard and
peaked, felt as if they shuddered in sympathetic joy.

But she couldn’t savor it for long.

“You want something from us, fortune teller?” Jose grabbed
at his crotch.

Uh-oh.

Greg stepped in front of him. “Jose, you know the boss is
saving her.”

Saving you?
That was Bram’s outraged voice echoing in
her mind. He pulled his tongue from within her and she missed it immediately.

“Hang on, sweetheart,” she whispered. “We need your energy
focused.” She jerked her chin, gesturing impatiently at her hands cuffed behind
her back.

No problem, luv, I’m on it.

The rush of air was cold as he moved from between her legs.

“Like what you see, boys?” Minerva put on her best
flirtatious voice. Ugh. It disgusted her.

Jose grinned but Greg slapped him. “It’s one of her tricks.”

“Tricks? Don’t be silly. I was just so turned-on by your
message.”

Greg looked confused. “My…message?”

“To Rachel.”

His eyes widened. “How the hell—she told you?”

Minerva shook her head. “I saw it.”

“Bullshit. “

What was it the text had said?

‘I want 2 fuck ur tits.’ Classy chap.

“You want to rub your tiny cock in between those heaving
breasts of hers, don’t you? Jet your cum across her chest like a pearl
necklace. Shoot across her face, a stream of white into her golden hair like
the big man you think you are.”

Jose slapped Greg on the shoulder. “Tiny cock, huh? Guess
she is psychic.”

Greg didn’t even glare at him. He was staring at Minerva.
His lips were white with tension. “This is bullshit. I know your tricks.”

“You think someone’s speaking in my ear, Greg? Please come
check me for an earpiece. But there’s no one else here to have seen your texts.
Unless it was a ghost, of course.”

“Come on,” Jose’s voice was annoyed now. “Ghosts? Don’t
listen to her.”

“It’s stupid, yeah man. But how did she know that?”

“All guys wanna fuck a girl’s tits.”

“You saw the last text.” Greg held his cell up again for
Jose to read. Jose’s face paled distinctly now.

“Nah. Nah, you said it, tricks.”

The lights flickered. Seeing the men jump nervously brought
Minerva far too much satisfaction.

She laughed.

First mission accomplished.
Bram’s voice was proud
and teasing. How would she do this without him? He was keeping her grounded,
keeping her from collapsing in fear.

Stealing the handcuff key for her.

She felt his ghost fingers fumbling at her wrists. Did he
have enough dexterity to unlock the cuffs?

They popped open. Of course he did. He’d proven that most
acutely with his tongue. Holy hell, did he have dexterity.

She started in again on Greg.

“I hope you didn’t get any splooge on my chaise. Probably
not though. Did she tell you she had to keep quiet backstage in case anyone was
around?” Minerva forced her mouth into a mocking grin though she felt disgusted
by talking about her friend that way. Rachel couldn’t be involved. “Is that why
she’s not a screamer? Or was it your performance? She didn’t even let you take
off that beautiful, lacy purple bra.”