Charlotte Boyett-Compo- Windspectre

Charlotte Boyett-Compo- Windspectre
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WindSpectre

 

By

 

Charlotte Boyett-Compo

 

 

 

 

© copyright by Charlotte Boyett-Compo, May 2008

Cover art by Kat Richards, May 2008

New Concepts Publishing

Lake Park, GA 31636

www.newconceptspublishing.com

 

 

 

 

This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Prologue

 

 

The old folks advise travelers planning on driving Route 44 near the Seekonk-Rehoboth, Massachusetts border late at night to keep their doors locked and never, ever get out of the car.

“If you run out of gas or you get a flat tire, just stay in the car, and wait ‘til morning,” is the consensus of the locals.

“It isn’t safe to venture outside your car, especially on a moonless night,” they warn. “Things have been known to happen out that way.”

Bad things, they whisper.

Things that can’t be explained even in the light of day.

“Things you don’t want no part of,” the old folks hint.

They tell the tale of a hostile apparition who appears to unwary motorists along that lonely stretch of highway. They say his eyes reflect the fires of hell and the sound of his laughter has the ability to chill the blood in your veins. One moment you might see him standing at the roadside, then, if your door isn’t locked, you could find him sitting in the seat beside you, his fearsome grin predatory and filled with lethal intent.

“You can not escape him once he sets his sights on you and once you have become a victim, you will never be the same. You will see his fiery eyes glowing from every deepening shadow and you will hear his taunting laughter to your grave ….”

But some say he isn't the evil thing of which the old folks tell.

Some say he is a godsend and lies in wait for just the right person ….

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter One

 

Cathleen Kaisand was tired. She had been driving all day and the headache piercing her forehead just above her right eye was agonizing. Every passing car light served to exacerbate the pain, the brightness seeming to stab into her skull. It didn’t help that a heavy rain was falling against the windshield and reflecting the oncoming lights, intensifying their brightness.

She rolled her shoulders, twisted in the cramped seat in an effort to relieve the tightness bunched in her upper body. A dull burning sensation had settled at the base of her neck and her right knee felt as though a sharp needle was being driven into it. The long day of driving was beginning to take its toll.

"I wish I could find someone to take care of me for a change and I didn't have to work," she mumbled. "Wouldn't that be nice?"

The warm air from the defroster was beginning to make her sleepy and she was vaguely aware of a dangerous lassitude setting in. Between the monotonous sweeps of the wipers swishing away the pouring rain pelting the windshield and the bone-deep fatigue crying out for relief, she felt herself starting to drift off and jerked upright in the seat, opening her eyes wide to stave off the drowsiness.

"You'd better find a place to pull off, woman," she said aloud.

Glancing down at the radio faceplate, she winced, for it was close to midnight and she was still at least two hours from her destination. Yawning, she almost missed the rest area road sign.

Thankful she didn't have to relieve herself, she was nevertheless annoyed the rest area contained No Facilities. Being able to get out and stretch, get a soda, and wash her face would have been nice. When the turnoff came into view, though, she felt a wash of relief flow over her. Just to be able to close her eyes for awhile, to get the migraine somewhat under control, was a godsend.

The arcing curve of the rest area was barren as her headlights swept over the tall trees, encroaching shrubs, and three dented green litter barrels beyond the gravel drive. No other vehicles had claimed the rest area this wild, stormy night and that was both unsettling and reassuring. Cathleen sat there with the engine idling for a moment—chewing her bottom lip, trying to decide whether or not to stop—but at last her weariness outweighed any disquiet she felt so she turned off the engine. Upon dowsing her headlights, Cathleen found herself enclosed in pitch darkness with not even the shimmer of the pounding rain to break the ebon scenery beyond. She felt as though she were cocooned within her $45,000 vehicle and that, too, was both comforting and disturbing.

Even knowing the power locks were engaged and all doors and hatchback secure, Cathleen nevertheless pressed the button on the door before unbuckling her seat belt. She felt as safe as possible and let out a long breath.

After reaching down to adjust the power seat away from the steering wheel and to recline it, the new regional manager of WindGenInc Power twisted around and snagged the blanket from the backseat. Tucking the blanket around her, she stretched out as comfortably as the seat would allow and closed her eyes.

"What I need is a sexy man who thinks only of me," she said. "Someone who could make all the decisions for me. Someone who would do it all. I'd be one happy camper."

Outside, the wind howled and rocked the luxury car slightly, the drumming of the rain upon the roof mesmerizing. Warm beneath the soft wool blanket, relaxed in the plush leather of the seat, Cathleen sighed as sleep reached out to take her gently in its protective arms.

Held safe within those strong, shielding arms Cathleen traveled deeper into the Realm of Morpheus. Her breathing slowed, her body became weightless and pliant. Now and again she would moan lightly as her incorporeal self flew through time and space, her eyes looking down upon lush emerald green fields sparkling with bright golden sunflowers and serpentine sapphire streams running down from the jagged diamond peaks of snowcapped mountains. The air smelled of gardenia and a soft breeze swept beneath her toes.

When that first tentative caress pressed softly, fleetingly across her cheek, she turned her face to locate again that velvety touch. Finding it, she nestled into a warm palm and smiled as a soothing thumb arched across the sweep of her closed lids. She sighed as fingers trailed down her jaw line and her lips were stroked by that heated thumb. She opened her mouth as the pad of the slightly rough appendage delicately pulled her lower lip down to trace the curve. Strong fingers spanned the column of her neck—the thumb soothing lazy figure-eights along one side as the hand moved lower.

"Umm," Cathleen said in her sleep and writhed in her seat.

The fingers splayed out over her upper chest and massaged gently. Heat radiated from a firm palm and was absorbed by the sleeping one's flesh. Spirals of warmth fanned out and swept along her nerve endings until they found the hollow of her womb and settled there with a rippling little squeeze.

A face formed in Cathleen's somnolent brain, topaz eyes, jet hair, smoky quartz flesh that glistened, a handsome, mysterious face with straight teeth white as pearl. The suggestion of imposing height and well-defined muscles settled over her and she sighed again.

Knowing hands peeled away the blanket. Demanding fingers slowly worked the buttons of her blouse until the silk was folded away and cool air washed over the flesh of her bare midriff. Hot knuckles grazed her breastbone as the front closure of her bra released and the pendulous weight of her breasts became unbound.

"Beautiful. So very, very beautiful."

His voice was deep, melodic and as his hands cupped the mass of breasts, Cathleen drew in a quick breath, groaning as those phantom thumbs found the peaks of her globes and eased slowly across them from side to side.

Firm lips drew one straining nipple deep into a hot, moist mouth and the little bud became engorged with blood and pulsing desire. Cathleen arched her back, offering herself up to the dark god suckling her. She lifted her arms and threaded her hand through soft, curly hair and pressed that questing mouth closer to her chest.

A hand trailed along her side then dipped beneath the elastic waistband of her slacks. Fingers swept from her side to her abdomen—a heated palm causing ripples of lust to flare through her belly. One curly spiral of nether hair was touched and Cathleen cried out.

"Shush, milady,"
her phantom lover whispered against her breast. A hot tongue lathed over her nipple and drew a pathway up her neck until warm breath invaded her ear.
"Let me love you as you deserve to be loved."

Shivering as those delicious words wound their way through her auditory canal Cathleen became boneless, weak, and completely unable to resist the fingers that speared through her pubic curls. As the tip of one finger touched her clitoris, she held her breath.

Rolling that swollen nubbin between middle finger and thumb, her lover peeled the hood back with his index finger.

"Please," she begged.

A fleeting touch—gossamer soft yet as hard as steel—ran across her clit then a strong, purposeful finger drove deep inside her moistness. It withdrew, probed deeper, and then settled, joined by two of its neighbors as a wicked tongue wriggled into her ear.

"Feel me, milady,"
he whispered to her
. "Know your man."

He found that wondrous spot where all sensation is gathered, where lust and passion and desire is fathered. That hidden concave structure deep within her warm, moist cavern was pressed with authority and her juices began to heat.

In and out he worked his fingers, striving always to make contact with that glorious spot before pulling out and thrusting in once more. His palm cupped her pelvic bone and slid along the wiry curls each time, causing an intoxicating friction that brought panting to Cathleen's lips. Slickness formed between her thighs, overflowed, and trickled along the curve of her bottom. She wriggled against his invasion, yet silently begged for more.

Cold air spread over Cathleen and she knew he was no longer hindered by the covering of her clothing. She could feel the roughness of his male flesh sliding along the softness of her female flesh and the combination was a heady experience that increased the speed of her pulse and sent shivers of delight through her body.

His lips traced intricate patterns over her breasts. His teeth nibbled gently at her distended nipples. The weight of his masculine body pressed against hers to push blood into her lower region. She felt swollen down there and ultra-sensitive as a heavy cock leapt lazily along her opened thighs.

"Do you want me, Cathleen?"
he asked, his breath hot against her ear.

"Yes," she eagerly agreed.

"
Will you accept me as I am?"

"Yes!" she answered and wrapped him tightly in her arms, reveling in the hard muscles of his back that rippled beneath her questing palms.

"Of your own freewill do you accept me?"
he pressed.

"Yes," she replied with a heavy sigh. She ran her hands over the heat of his back as his lips trailed soft kisses along her neck.

"Do you offer yourself to me of your own accord?"

"Yes."

There was a slight stinging sensation that was quickly followed by the lathing of his tongue. A deeper lassitude set in and her arms slid from his shoulders to lie weightless beside her. She could feel his mouth pressed tightly to her throat for what seemed an eternity and yet she lay there in complete surrender to his need.

His mouth moved from her neck to her chest to her belly then lower still until those firm questing lips locked onto the very core of her and drew upon the salty sweetness that oozed there. His tongue slid inside her then flicked repeatedly at the erect nub of her clit until she whimpered.

She heard his low chuckle, then gasped as he slid his body over hers and the heaviness of his cock pressed at her aching opening.

"Are you ready for me, Sweeting?"
he queried.

"Aye," she said and marveled at the use of such an arcane agreement.

His cock was hard and long and slid slowly past her nether lips with purpose—like a snake gliding sensuously through tall grass. He wriggled into her and took up residence deep within her velvety folds. Seated there in her warm moistness, he began a pressing rhythm that rocked her up and down the car's plush seat. The squeak of the leather was hypnotic as he thrust into her.

"
Mine,"
he whispered.
"And no other's."

Spirals of passion were slithering through Cathleen's belly. Heat was building up inside her veins, her mind, along her thighs. The first faint ripple was forming somewhere deep within her, causing sweat to break out on her upper lip and beneath her arms. She dragged her tongue around the outside perimeter of her mouth, tasting the saltiness of her perspiration.

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