Haunting the Mayfair
A sexy Halloween tale
Rick loves Cindi, but he worries about her. Apart from his past, there is the very real problem of her insatiable curiosity, so for Halloween he decides to teach her a lesson she’ll never forget...
Rick Leighton is a world-class, sophisticated intelligence operative with a questionable past. He’s tried retiring, leaving it all behind, and for a time he did. But the past has a way of catching up to you, and he was the company whore for a long time when he was an active agent. Much to his surprise he’s fallen in love with the daughter of his mentor, a girl fifteen years his junior, but her love and devotion to him–her acceptance of him–has taught him the kind of love he once scoffed at.
Rick loves Cindi, but he also worries about her. Apart from his past, there is the very real problem of her insatiable curiosity, and for Halloween, he decides to teach her a lesson in being more careful. He lures her to an old hotel that’s been abandoned for decades, and reputed to be haunted. She goes, led by the intrigue and her curiosity, just as he knows she’ll be.
When Rick grabs her in the hallway, her anger is quickly overwhelmed by the scope of his private party and all it entails. In the afterglow of their passion, though, the ghosts of the place become all too real, and Rick’s past clashes violently with the love that defines his present.
When Cindi is taken hostage by a woman he once used and left, one who blames him for the death of her son, blood and death are the only way back to safety.
The shock of the cool chair against her bare skin sent another shiver through Cinthya. But before she could recover completely, Rick had most of her clothes off and was halfway through tying her ankles back to the legs of the chair, this time to the back legs, leaving her thighs spread wide.
Her heartbeat doubled when his fingers began a slow, barely perceptible pattern of caressing her legs, starting at the back of her ankles and gradually moving upward. The room actually did a crazy spin when Rick bent his head and started following the path of his roaming hands with his lips.
Cinthya squirmed with renewed urgency as she tried to free herself from the surprisingly strong bonds. Rick’s tongue barely touched the wet folds between her legs, but the featherlike contact created a spasm of reaction in her. She shuddered and gasped, the sound becoming a tiny moan when he repeated the gesture with a slow, lingering sensuality. Then he leaned back to look up into her eyes.
“Why…?” She wasn’t even sure what it was she wanted to ask as the words got caught in another trembling twitch. His fingers were smoothing gentle touches on the inner skin of her thighs.
“Because I love you, Cindi,” he answered around a huge smile, supplying his own meaning to the gasped query.
She looked down to watch his hand brushing over the dark-gold thatch of hair between her thighs and tried to thrust into the contact. Frustration played through her when he refused to accommodate her.
“Rick? Do you think maybe you could love me a little faster?” The words were expelled like a choked breath of air and her face warmed with the heat of her embarrassment as well as her passion.
“How fast are you thinking, sweetheart?” His grin was on the verge of dissolving into laughter.
His finger finally delving into her wet heat effectively cut off any attempt at an answer, her hips again shifting into his touch. He probed deeper into her and started a slow, gentle rhythm, his own breath becoming audibly strained when her head fell back and her lips parted with a breathy sigh.
Rick stilled the motion of his hand after several minutes of slow, steady stroking, waiting for her dazed eyes to find his in the growing shadows of the ancient hotel room. In the soft glow of light from the lamp, Cindi’s hair shone like burnished gold. Blue eyes found his and she stared at him, shaking uncontrollably, her expressive features filled with longing.
Rick kissed her lips then lowered his head until he was able to push his tongue into the warmth that had been occupied moments before by his finger. He heard the catch in her already too-fast breathing as he let his tongue glide over the swollen folds then probe into her again. The erotic torture evoked a desperate moan from her. For a couple of minutes he allowed a tentative rhythm to build, then slowly eased away from her again.