Double Dating with the Dead (8 page)

T
rent closed the door to his room before answering his phone. He wasn't taking any chances. Not that he wouldn't put it past Selena to plaster herself against his door just to see if he was talking about her.

“Trent here,” he said after bringing the cell phone to his ear.

“You're still alive. Amazing,” Tye said. “I know I managed to live with you all these years, but it was sort of a have-to situation with us being brothers and all, but I figured Selena would've done away with you by now.”

“You're so damn funny I can't stop laughing,” he said with more than a touch of dry sarcasm.

“I've always thought I had a rare talent. Maybe I should've been a comedian—have my own television show.”

“Yeah, so I could turn you off.”

“That was an old one, bro. It's like I told you, no sense of humor anymore. You've gone stale.”

“Maybe because I don't have anything to laugh about.”

“Okay, then have you seen any ghosts yet?”

Sometimes Tye could be a real pain in the ass. Why women flocked to his little brother was still a mystery to him.

“I take it that's a no?”

“What do you think?”

Something clunked outside his door.

He jumped, then smiled. Caught in the act. He eased to the door. He had her now.

“Yeah, Selena is real crazy or one of the best con artists I've ever had the misfortune to run across.”

“Hey, I can hear you. Stop yelling. You almost busted my eardrum.”

He flung his door open. “Gotcha!”

Empty.

He peered down the hall both ways. Odd, he could've sworn he heard Selena right outside his door.

“I think you're losing it, bro. What the hell
are
you doing?”

“I thought I heard Selena eavesdropping.” He walked down the hallway and to the landing. Selena was just coming in from outside, and she was talking on her phone.

“No, Mom, I really don't need any food.” She grimaced. “What? Pizza. No, we shared. Yes, I'm eating salads. Mom, I'm fine, really.” She glanced up, but quickly looked away when she saw he was watching her.

“Maybe it was a ghost,” Tye offered.

Trent raised the phone to his ear. “What?”

“I said that it might have been a ghost.”

“Go to bed, Tye.”

“Can't. I have a date with Cindy later.”

Trent glanced at his watch as he headed for his room. “It's almost ten.”

“Yeah, that's when the fun starts. Don't you know midnight is the witching hour?”

“Since I'm hunting imaginary ghosts, I won't have anything to worry about—unless Paige shows up. Good night.” He closed his phone at the same time that he walked inside his room.

He could've sworn he'd heard someone outside his door. As he'd said earlier today, it was an old hotel. The foundation was probably shifting. That was how a lot of ghost stories were started, with the creaks and groans of an older home that was settling…or hotel as was this case.

He put his cell phone on the dresser and opened the top drawer, then paused. His pants were in the top drawer. That wasn't where he'd put them. He opened the next drawer. Socks and briefs that were supposed to be in the top drawer. He shook his head. Childish stunts.

“Ahh, Selena, do you really expect me to fall for something so juvenile?” He grabbed a pair of pajama bottoms and tossed them on the bed. Her little tricks weren't fooling him.

After removing his clothes, he pulled on the bottoms and turned back the covers.

“Jesus!”

Footsteps hurried down the hall, and his door was flung open.

“What?” Selena rushed inside. She took one look at his bed and backed up a step, then forward two. “Is that what I think it is? Ewww…”

“Don't you think you've carried the pranks a little far?”

“Not me,” she said, still staring at the mess on his bed.

Damn it, he didn't like being made a fool of. “This isn't at all funny. Gelatin in the bed?”

“Dark red at that. Black cherry? It looks pretty gruesome.” He caught her barely restrained laughter.

Trent flung off the top cover and grabbed each corner, bringing them together. “It's not a bit funny, and if you think it's going to convince me there are ghosts in the house, then think again.” He tromped off toward the bathroom with his bundle of soiled sheets.

“It wasn't me,” she yelled after him. Not that he would believe her. “I warned you about taunting the ghosts, but would you listen…nooooo…”

“Your whole family is probably involved in this,” he muttered, but she heard him quite well.

“See.” She looked up. “He still thinks I'm doing all this.”

“Because you are,” he yelled over the water running in the bathroom.

“Grrr…”

This wasn't funny. Why didn't they just show themselves and get it over with. Not only did she have two horny ghosts plaguing her, but apparently they were just full of practical jokes. She could live without their pranks.

He came out of the bathroom a few minutes later minus the sheets. That was when she noticed he wasn't wearing a pajama top. This was so not good.

On the other hand, it was so
damn
good. He had a light dusting of dark hair on his nicely tanned chest and the sexiest abs she'd ever seen this close. She had to restrain herself from reaching out and dragging her fingernails over each hard ridge. Instead, she forced her gaze upward and ran headlong into a thundercloud.

Not good.

“That was the most childish stunt I've ever had to deal with,” he told her.

“I agree.”

His frown only deepened.

She opened her arms in supplication. “It wasn't me.”

“I wouldn't put it past one of your relatives to have sneaked up here and done this.”

She shook her head. “They promised to stay away.”

“Apparently, they lied.”

“My relatives are very honorable, and if I ask them not to do something, they won't.”

The look he cast in her direction had her snapping her mouth closed. She had plenty more she'd like to say, but she knew it wouldn't do her a bit of good. He'd raised the barrier between them again.

Not that the wall had ever really tumbled down, but there had been moments during the day when he'd acted human. But she knew without a doubt, there was no way she'd convince him that ghosts had put the Jell–O in his bed.

Why couldn't he see the world wasn't just black and white? Colors filled the universe. Beautiful, bright colors.

Yeah right, if she tried to explain that to him, he'd probably say she was on drugs.

“Believe what you want, I'm going to bed.” She turned and strode off toward her room. She heard his door shut, none too gently, but didn't even turn around.

Once inside her room, she leaned against the closed door. If Wesley and Dixie appeared before him, Trent would probably make some excuse—a trick of the light, or she was using mirrors or something.

Some people stayed blind to what went on around them.

If that was the case, though, her career might be in serious trouble, and there wasn't a whole hell of a lot she could do about it.

 

“They're pretty mad,” Wesley said. “You think the quivering mass of goop was too much?”

“Too much? Of course not. It was in the ice box, so that makes it fair game.” A wicked grin crossed her face. “And I'm just getting started. Wait until you see this.” She floated into Trent's room, hovering close to the ceiling. Not that he could see or hear them. She loved eavesdropping. Being a ghost did have benefits.

“Con artists,” Trent muttered. “The whole family is probably in on the hoax, but I'm not buying in to their little game.”

He flipped back the covers to put a clean sheet on the bed; his hands stilled.

“Putting new sheets on the bed was a good one, darlin',” Wesley told her.

She preened. “I know. Let's see how he explains this one away.”

Trent stomped to the window and tried to raise it. His brow furrowed. He clamped his lips together and tried the window again. It still didn't budge. “Her family had to get in some way,” he mumbled.

“It's locked,” Dixie said, then chuckled.

Trent moved the metal lock to the opposite position, and with only a little effort, it raised. He frowned and lowered the window, relocking it.

Wesley moved to the picture on the wall, and with a wave of his hand, it fell to the floor.

Trent jumped, whirling around. “Loose nail. That's all it was.” But his gaze skirted around the room, eyes narrowed as he peered into every dark corner.

“Good job,” Dixie told Wesley.

He shrugged his shoulders and downed his head. “It'll do for now.”

Trent turned off the light and climbed into bed.

Dixie's color turned a darker shade of pink. Whistle and Ditsy. She wasn't amused. Not one little bit. No, Selena had been right when she'd told him making a ghost mad was not a good thing.

“Now what?” Wesley asked.

Raising the palm of her hand, she blew across it. Red dust sparkled as it landed on Trent.

“Dixie, that was the red dust. Are you sure?”

“Oh, I'm sure.”

“But they don't even like each other. You might be startin' something that's going to get out of hand.”

“Not like each other?” She laughed. “Maybe not, but they certainly lust after each other. That's as plain as the nose on my face.” Her eyes crossed as she looked at her transparent nose. It was still there…sort of.

“It's a very cute nose,” Wesley offered.

He always knew the right thing to say at the right time. Just when she needed to feel as though she had a little substance. Damn, she loved him to distraction.

“Come on, let's not leave Selena out of the dream.” He grinned and vanished in an instant.

T
rent rolled to his other side, pulling the pillow closer to him. He was surrounded by fog. A cold breeze whispered over him. He shivered. The air around him suddenly warmed. He glanced around. The fog parted.

Selena stood before him wearing the same red negligee that was trimmed in black. He pushed the covers to the side and stood. Damn, she looked even sexier tonight, even though she wore exactly the same thing as the night before.

“You're here,” he said.

“It's just a dream.”

“This doesn't feel like a dream.” He reached out and touched her hair, running his fingers through the silky strands. She leaned toward him with a deep sigh. Hell, at this rate he'd want to start spending all his time asleep.

“You're right. I've never had a dream quite like this.” She ran her hand through the hairs on his chest, testing the hard ridges of his abdomen.

He sucked in a deep breath. “You're not a bit shy, are you?”

She laughed. “Why should I be? This is just a dream. When morning comes, we'll remember it was just a dream no matter how good it felt. None of this is real.”

“It feels pretty damn real right now. You feel pretty damn real.”

“It's my fantasy.”

He frowned. “I thought it was mine.”

“Who cares?”

That made sense. He pulled her negligee over her head and tossed it to the side. “You're not embarrassed?”

“Why should I be? I want you to see me naked, to touch me, to kiss me. This is what I want.”

What she wanted? He wasn't sure how that worked. Could Selena have a fantasy in his dream? Not that he minded fulfilling everything that her heart desired. Or maybe it was his dream that she would want him as much as he wanted her.

Damned confusing.

His gaze swept over her, and suddenly he didn't care that he was only dreaming about having sex with Selena. He only knew he wanted her. He felt like a kid in a candy store, and he planned on sampling every delicious morsel.

He caressed her breast, running his thumb over the nipple and watching it become a hard little nub. She closed her eyes, thrusting her chest forward. He didn't disappoint, but cupped both breasts, fondling them, brushing back and forth across her nipples.

His reward was watching the emotions that crossed her face. The sheer delight. The way she leaned into his hands, silently begging for more.

“That feels good,” she said, tugging at the string to his pajama bottoms and letting them slide to the floor. She opened her eyes and stared at his erection. “That's what I call a fantasy come true.”

When she reached for him, he turned her around so that her bottom was nestled against him. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting the heat from her body wrap around him.

“I thought this was my fantasy, too? I wanted to touch you.”

He laughed near her ear. “You are touching me.”

“That's not what I meant.”

He could hear the frown in her voice, but when he slid his hands over her breasts and down to her pubic hair, the frown changed to a moan.

“I thought you'd like that.” He spread her lips and caressed the fleshy part of her sex. “Tell me what your fantasy is and I'll fulfill it,” he whispered close to her ear.

She didn't hesitate. “I don't want to be in charge. I'm tired of fixing people—dead or alive. Take control of my body.”

She was giving herself to him. Totally and completely. It was a heady feeling. The perfect gift. She catered to his desires by giving everything to him.

He scooped her up and into his arms and carried her to the bed that appeared in front of him. Damned convenient. As soon as he laid her on the bed, she opened her arms and legs to him.

Ah, man, he'd never had a dream this sweet. Could it get any better?

He'd barely had that thought when silk ropes appeared and wrapped around each of her wrists, and each ankle, spreading her limbs wider as she was tied to the four corners. She lay before him, completely naked, nothing hidden away. She was beautiful, she was sexy, she was heat…and she was all his to do with as he wanted.

“I'm tied,” she said with fear-tinged excitement in her voice.

“So you are. I guess that means I can do whatever I want to your body.”

She wiggled her bottom. “Trent…I…”

“You what?”

Selena closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. When she'd said she wanted him to take charge, this wasn't what she meant. Or was it? Was it her secret fantasy to be dominated?

It's just a dream! It's just a dream!

She gasped when Trent ran an ice cube over one nipple, then the other. The coldness against her skin made her nipples tighten even more. He moved the ice away and covered her breast with his mouth, changing the cold for the heat of his tongue.

She opened her eyes and saw mirrors above her. She was splayed on the bed, completely naked, her ankles and wrists tied to each corner. She was completely at his mercy. He could do anything he wanted to her, and there wouldn't be a damn thing that she could do about it.

A fantasy where anything could happen. A fantasy without recriminations or embarrassment.

He raised his head, sliding the ice lower. Coherent thought was swept away on a cloud of passion. He slid the ice cube even lower, over her abdomen, swirling around the juncture between her legs. She cried out, arching her back and pulling on her restraints.

Laughter spilled from him. “Does your body ache for me?”

“Yes,” she moaned.

He raised the melting ice cube above her sex. Cold droplets of water dripped down onto her. She sucked in a deep breath.

She couldn't take her eyes off the mirrors as he tossed the ice cube from him and tangled his fingers in her curls.

“You're soft and silky. I like the way your body is open to my gaze.” He leaned over, running his tongue over her sex.

Ripples of pleasure ran down her body. She curled her fingers over the bonds at her wrists, more for something to hang on to than anything else.

“You taste sweet.” He licked the inside of one thigh, then repeated on the other side.

She might have moaned; she wasn't sure.

“I want to taste every inch of your body. I want to make you come again and again. He sucked her into his mouth again.

Her body tightened, threatened to snap in two. “Don't stop,” she cried out.

Her passion-glazed eyes stayed on the mirrors as she watched him take her with his mouth. She arched toward him, wanting more, needing more. His tongue licked her sex, teasing her with his teeth. She was consumed by the fire that spread over and through her body.

“Oh, damn, I'm going to…” Spasms of pleasure washed over her as her body tightened and she came against his mouth. She closed her eyes and let the sensations consume her. This was good, so damn good.

Awareness slowly returned as she floated back to earth. When was the last time she'd felt this satisfied? Had she ever felt this satisfied?

Trent covered her with a blanket, but he didn't untie her hands or legs. She didn't care as languidness filled her.

“You're beautiful,” he whispered close to her ear.

“Umm,” she murmured. Now she could slip into a deeper sleep and awaken feeling refreshed and…

“You tasted sweet…hot. I loved running my tongue up and down you.”

A faint stirring began to build inside her.

“I can't,” she finally told him. “I'll dream about you believing in ghosts instead. No more sex dreams.”

“Are you sure?” He nuzzled her neck, then tugged on her earlobe with his teeth.

“Yes…yes,” she told him, but she didn't sound very sure of herself.

He delved his tongue inside her ear. She moaned, her body arching.

“But if you're positive…,” he began, rolling away from her.

“No, wait!”

He chuckled.

“Devil.”

“You're not cold, are you?”

Now what was he getting at? More ice? That had felt really good. “No, I'm not cold.”

“Good, I want to look at your breasts.”

He took his time pulling the blanket down her breasts and baring them. The material scraped over her nipples. They responded by tightening. She sucked in her breath.

“Not hurting you, am I?”

As if he didn't know exactly what he was doing to her. “No.”

“Good.” He stopped the blanket at her waist. “Damn, I love looking at your breasts. They're so perfect.”

He brushed his fingers over her nipples, watching as they tightened, then tugged lightly on each one.

“You don't mind if I touch them, do you?”

“No,” she whimpered.

She watched in the mirror before closing her eyes. It was like looking at a porn movie and she was in the starring role.

Vibrations tickled her. She opened her eyes. Trent was running a vibrator over her breasts and down to her belly button.

“Feel good?” he asked.

She sucked in a breath when he dipped low on her abdomen. “Yes.”

“I read somewhere that a woman's orgasm is increased ten times when she has a vibrator against her sex while a man is moving in and out of her.”

She tried to swallow, but couldn't. All she could do was watch helplessly as he moved closer and closer to her sex.

He opened a bottle and began to pour warmed oil on her abdomen. A shiver of delight swept over her. She didn't mind that it seemed to just appear. It was a dream. Who the hell cared?

He ran the vibrator through the oil, over her breasts and close to her sex. She groaned in frustration.

“Am I hurting you? Should I stop?”

“Ass.”

He chuckled. “Tell me what you want.”

Tell him? Actually say what she wanted him to do?

Why not? It was her body. Why shouldn't she have just as much pleasure as he did?

“I want you to put the vibrator against my sex.”

He didn't hesitate, but slid it down her abdomen and lightly rested it against her. Vibrations swirled around her. She bit her bottom lip, arching her body, wanting more.

“More?” he asked, reading her mind.

“Yes,” she gasped.

He turned up the dial of the vibrator. Oh, yes, this was good. “More,” she cried out. “I want you inside me.”

He entered her, filling her body. Their eyes met as he slowly pulled out, then plunged back inside, deeper this time.

The restraints were suddenly gone, as if they'd been there only because she'd wished them. She wrapped her legs around his waist, drawing him even closer, just as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

He moved inside the hot, moist heat of her body, then retreated. In and out. Faster and faster until she cried out and arched toward him. Shudders gripped her body in intense pleasure as she climaxed.

Vaguely, she heard him cry out as he came. His heavy breathing was close to her ear.

“Damn, that was good. So fucking good,” he whispered.

She smiled. This was what she'd been waiting for. The perfect orgasm.

Slowly, she closed her eyes and snuggled against Trent. No, it was the pillow she clasped to her. Did it matter? Not so much when she felt this satiated.

As the night swirled around her, she thought she heard Dixie and Wesley laughing. The joke was on them. This was the best sex she'd ever had. It didn't matter that it had been with her sworn enemy. After all, it had only been a dream.

A smile curved her lips as she drifted into deeper slumber. Damn, she felt really, really good.

 

Selena rolled over and sat up on the side of the bed. Lord, she felt like death warmed over. It was all she could do to drag her eyelids open. Even then, she couldn't focus.

Lord, maybe her eyes had fallen out.

No, they couldn't have. She'd eaten her veggies.

Slowly, the room took shape. Same room, same lumpy bed, same hardwood floor that was so cold to her bare feet.

She jerked her feet up and slid beneath the sheet again, pulling it up to her neck, then went one step further and pulled the blanket over her head.

Damn, what a dream. Now she was having better orgasms asleep than when she was awake. So not fair. And why with Trent? They didn't even like each other. She lusted after him, but that didn't mean she wanted to have sex with him.

But it was such good sex. Maybe if she just closed her eyes….

No, no, no. Don't even go there
. Her head pounded.

Having dreams about sex might be good while she was having the dream, but it served only to make her more frustrated and sexually deprived in the light of day. Kind of like having a hangover without the fun of drinking.

She hoped Trent was going through the same thing! Why should she be the only one to suffer? Yeah, right. He was probably sleeping like a baby.

Coffee. That was what she needed. Maybe coffee would get last night out of her head.

She kicked the covers off and staggered to her feet.

Lots of coffee. Like maybe a gallon. And chocolate doughnuts. She knew there was at least one left from yesterday. Maybe two. She really needed chocolate.

Grabbing her robe, she headed for the bathroom. One look in the mirror and she knew it would take more than washing her face and applying makeup to cover the ravages left by her erotic dream.

A complete makeover
might
help. She stared at her reflection. Nope, even a complete makeover wouldn't help her this morning.

She didn't really care. Maybe she would scare the hell out of Trent and he'd leave.

She hung on to the rail as she went downstairs. Once at the bottom, she sniffed. Coffee? Oh, yeah, coffee.

Trent didn't even look up when she entered. He was in exactly the same position as yesterday morning: head against the cabinet, hands braced on the counter as if he couldn't hold himself up.

Again, he opened one eye and looked at her. “Coffee's almost ready.”