Authors: Melinda Barron
Tags: #Erotic Paranormal Romance
Franco pressed his thumb into her clit and Tempest came, yelling out his name as she felt hot jets of semen soak her fingers.
The room grew quiet, and then there was a chuckle. “You weren’t supposed to have sex,” Dev said.
“We didn’t.” Franco’s chest was heaving and he gazed down at her, his eyes filled with desire. “That was just foreplay.”
The laughter increased and Franco sat up. Tempest looked at the people surrounding them. Their faces were as flushed as she felt right now.
“Is it gone?”
“Yes,” Pebbles replied. “He’s gone from your home.”
“Is he dead?” Tempest noticed a slight hesitation on the other woman’s part. When she finally nodded no one else challenged her, so Tempest decided she’d just imagined her misgivings.
“That’s great news,” Franco said. “Now, get the fuck out so we can turn foreplay into real sex.”
The laughter increased and Tempest laid her head on his shoulder. The demon was gone, the house belonged to her and the man next to her was hers, too. Life was perfect, much more so because of the man sitting beside her.
Rumer instructed them to stay where they were until she’d done something with the circle she’d cast. When she’d said things were fine they stepped out. Franco headed for the bathroom, coming back moments later with a wet towel.
“Well,” he said. “As much as I’d like to stay here with my lady, I suppose a celebration is in order. “Dinner’s on me, so let’s head out.”
“Wait.” Tempest looked around the room. “How can we be sure he’s gone?”
“Do you feel him?” Pebbles cocked her head and glanced at her.
Tempest closed her eyes and relaxed. All she could feel were the people around her, their love and friendship.
“Then he’s no longer attached to you,” Pebbles said. “You can relax and enjoy yourself. I promise.”
Two weeks later
Tempest hung Franco’s shirt on a hanger, then placed it in the closet next to hers. It felt strange seeing it there. Strange, but beautiful. She smiled as the sounds of hammering reached her ears.
Mr. Melton was installing a bathroom in the master bedroom, not five feet away from her. She glanced over at Culo who washed his paws as he lay in the middle of the bed. In the open window, Pero watched the world go by.
The cats had come into the master suite their first night back. That alone told Tempest that the incubus was truly gone.
“It’ll take another few days.” She turned to where Mr. Melton stood, hammer in hand. “You sure about that claw foot bathtub? It’s going to take up an awful lot of room in there.”
“Yes, I’m sure.” Very sure. I have this wonderful fantasy about Franco and me in there, having a great time together.
“All righty then, I’m leaving for the day. I’ll be back in the morning.”
After he left, Tempest walked over to the walled-off area, looking inside. It was definitely taking shape.
She ran her fingers up her sides, cupping her breasts at the thought of making love to Franco in the old-fashioned tub. As if on cue, the vibrator he’d placed inside her this morning turned on.
She shivered as she remembered him running it over her body before sliding it into her, slapping her ass and telling her how he was going to love knowing it was there while he was at work. The sensations spread through her, her clit twitching. She came out of the room and looked toward the doorway. Franco leaned against the doorjamb. He waved the vibrator remote at her, then turned it up.
“Hi.” She tweaked her nipples, then bit her lip. “How was your day, dear?”
“Darling, it’s about to get a lot better, for both of us.”
One of the things people ask me is where I come up with ideas for stories. In the case of
Come As You Are
the answer is easy: Personal experience.
My experience with a presence in the night is not something I’ve told many people. Until now. It’s not exactly the one that Tempest had, but it does provide the basis for this tale.
One night, in February of 1992, I was living in a small apartment with myself and two cats. I’d lived in that apartment for almost a year, and had enjoyed it. It was one bedroom, with a kitchen, dining room, living room and bathroom. Just enough for one person while I searched for a small house.
Things had been going fine until one night, when I woke up around one a.m. The cat was lying next to me and his gaze was focused on the doorway. He didn’t move from his spot, and when I stroked his fur, he hissed at me, something that was not a natural thing for him to do.
I pulled back my hand, figuring that the cat had just participated in a fight with his feline brother and was angry. Then I went back to sleep. This happened several more times during the week, waking up at one a.m. and feeling as if I were not alone in the room. Sometimes the cats would be there. Sometimes they wouldn’t. But the feeling of being watched, of not being alone, was always the same.
About a week after this started things changed. I woke up at one a.m., as had been the norm during that time. Both cats were at the bottom of the bed, but both were awake. The presence I had sensed all this week was back, but this time it was in the bedroom, and moving toward the bed.
Seconds after I felt the presence at the bottom of the bed, both cats hissed and howled, running from the room, and a large weight came down on top of me, as if a man were placing his body over mine. I screamed and flailed out my arms, yelling at whatever it was to “leave me alone.”
Then I ran out of the room to find the cats cowering in the corner of the living room. I sat down on the couch, shaking, and both felines jumped up, one on either side, as if to comfort me. I did not sleep in that room again, moving from the apartment a little more than a month later.
Was what I felt an incubus? Some of my friends are convinced that it was. Others are convinced it was just my overactive imagination playing tricks with my mind. I’m not sure exactly what I felt. I know that when I asked it to leave, it did.
In my research about incubi, I found that some are sinister, and some just want to provide physical comfort and companionship to their chosen companions. Which is the truth, and which is fiction? I wish I knew.
One good thing came out of it. A Spirit Seeker story that features an incubus that leans toward the darker side.
Melinda Barron loves to explore Egyptian tombs and temples, discover Mayan ruins, play in castles towers, and explore new cities and countries. She generally does it all from the comfort of her home by opening a book.
Melinda loves to lose herself between the pages of a book. The only thing she loves more is creating stories from the wonderful heroes and heroines that haunt her dreams and crowd her head. She believes love is for everyone, not just those who are a size 2. Her books are full of magic, suspense and love, in all sorts of shapes and sizes.
Mel currently lives in the Texas Panhandle, with two cats, and a file stuffed with new ideas to keep her typing fingers busy, and your heart engaged.
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They tell me that I am special, that my ability to heal is a “gift” that should be treasured and appreciated. As far as I’m concerned, I’m not gifted…I’m cursed. Nothing in this life is free, not even gifts. There is always a price to be paid somewhere, somehow.
My healing gift came with twelve Rules of Darkness, rules that I must follow at all times, until the day I die. The rules are ingrained in who I am. They dictate how I live my life when I am awake, and they haunt me when I’m asleep.
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… It’s enough to drive a person mad.
And perhaps that’s where I find myself now. A victim of a disease I can cure in others, but not in myself. It’s madness to break the rules, and yet, I don’t care. I’m tired of living my life this way. I’m tired of the rules. I won’t do it anymore, and if that means I suffer the consequences, then so be it.
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Allana Simpson is cursed. Love only brings death to everyone around her. She longs for a normal life with one man that she can give her heart to without killing him.
Tom Haugan never believed in curses until he met Allana. She opens up a world for him that he never knew existed. A world he never wished to learn about.
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