Perchance to Dream Box Set

A Haunted Love-4

He has a key that unlocks the door to the inn.

“I don’t think we should be here,” I say, unsure. Isn’t he finished with this charade yet? “David…”

He pushes open the heavy door. “It’s fine.”

I expect it to be dark inside, locked up tight and musty, closed until tomorrow morning, so I’m surprised to find an oily lamp burning on the desk. That can’t be safe.

In a low whisper, he tells me, “Marie knows I come in late. She leaves a light out for me.”

“Marie?” The Human Resource manager at the main office? The one who’s going to chew my ass out because I hung around after hours? She knows he stays here late? I’m not sure if he’s playing with me or not. “David, this…”

“Shh,” he says. “Everyone’s asleep.”

Everyone. As if we aren’t the only ones here.

I wait while he locks the door and pockets the key. Then he takes the lamp and leads the way through the sitting room to a narrow spiral staircase that winds up past the second floor directly to the third. It’s usually roped off, marked ‘Employees Only’ because it’s old and wooden and about to fall down…they don’t want any tourists on it. Sometimes we joke with little kids and tell them the third floor is haunted, that’s why they can’t visit it. Truth is, only the one staircase leads up here and it’s a lawsuit waiting to happen. There’s no such thing as ghosts.

But tonight the stairway seems stronger, the steps ringing beneath my feet, and David tells me to keep it down again.

“There’s no one else here,” I mutter, but I don’t really believe that anymore. The place no longer feels empty to me.

The third floor is a converted attic, with the rafters right above our heads. I hear the wind pick up outside, the branches brushing along the roof like whispers. The hall isn’t very wide so I walk behind him, the lamp he carries casting more shadows than light. At the end of the hall he stops, takes out another key, and unlocks a skinny door that opens into the last room on our right.

David stands aside to let me enter first. The room is awash in a golden glow thrown by small flames licking at the fireplace, not so much warm as they are bright, but they make me feel sleepy and the bed looks inviting, with its antique lace dust ruffle and the canopy that seems to fall from the ceiling. Two wingback chairs face the fireplace, with a small table between them which I’m sure doesn’t belong here…this floor is unfurnished, isn’t it?

I thought the attic was storage space, nothing more. Does Marie really know about this? “David.” I frown at the fire, the chairs, the shuttered windows, the bed. This isn’t right. It’s too homey, too lived in to be right. “You’re staying here?”

“It’s small, I know.”

I hear the key turn in the lock, then he leans by me to set the lamp down on the table. A hint of sweat and oily smoke clings to him, an acrid odor from burning glass, sharp in the air. I hope I don’t smell like horses. I hope he doesn’t think I stink.

“It’s all I can afford.”

“That’s okay.” It’s cozy here, small, but the bed’s big enough for two, and if he lets me hold him in the night then we’ll fit fine. I grin at that. God, I’m bad. Just met the boy and already know I want to get with him.

Throwing myself down into one of the chairs, I prop up my feet on the hearth and kick off my shoes. The fire dispels the chill that had seeped beneath my shirt—I never realized how thin it was before, since I don’t wear it much at night. “This is nice.”

I unlace my shirt further, pull it open a bit, and recline in the chair with my eyes closed. I hope he’s watching me. My fingers trail down my chest, my stomach, over my crotch, until my hand rests on my thigh. I ease open my eyes and look over at him.

He stares baldly at me, as I hoped he would, and there’s a naked hunger in his eyes I put there, me.

Damn but he’s pretty, have I mentioned that yet? By the firelight his skin glows, his hair darker than it looked outside, his eyes like sapphires, faceted and sparkling. He sinks into the other chair slowly, not taking his steady gaze from me. If he knew I saw him looking he’d blush because I can almost taste how bad he wants to touch me.

“You can,” I whisper.

“Can what?” His voice is deep and throaty as if he just woke up.

“Touch me,” I sigh. It’s more than a wish but not quite a command. “If you want.”

His hand stretches out before he can stop it, and his fingers brush across my knee, then pull back. Suddenly he clears his throat and stares into the fire as if we’ve done something wrong and he can’t bear to look at me any longer. “You can have the bed,” he says, his voice strained. “I’ll stretch out on the floor. It’s only one night.”

“You can sleep with me.” I keep my voice soft because I don’t want to scare him away. When his cheeks redden, I add, “I’m not talking about that. I don’t f**k guys I just met.”

He doesn’t answer. Instead he stares at the fire and toys with the loose sleeve of his shirt. In the low light, his hair matches the color of the flames, and a muscle pulses in his jaw where he’s clenched his teeth to keep silent.

I nudge his foot with mine playfully. “David, it’s a full. That means two people fit on it. All we’ll do is sleep.”

“I don’t know.” He glances at me and there’s that muscle again, throbbing as he takes in my lips, my eyes, my curls. It’s as if he’s undressing me in his mind, and I hope he likes what he sees.

I tug at the laces on my breeches that tie up my crotch and sigh. “You said it yourself,” I point out. “It’s only one night.”

His blush deepens. “I’m not the sort of man who does something like that.”

I study him. I can’t be wrong—I’m never wrong, I can spot boys like him a mile away, boys who like other boys, boys like me. I can pick them out of a crowd. I see the interest shine in his eyes…he wants me. Even if he doesn’t know it yet, there’s something about me that will haunt him until we meet again.

I already know I’m going to get his number first thing in the morning, and I’m going to ask him out, maybe take him to the movies. I’ve waited a long time to meet someone like him and I’m not going to let him slip away so easily. “Something like what?”

He shrugs, embarrassed.

“You don’t like guys?” His lips twist as he tries not to smile. He still isn’t seeing things my way. I want him to see me. Reaching across the table between us, I touch his arm. “Come on, David. I see the way you look at me. You’re the sexiest boy I’ve seen in all the time I’ve been here. I’m thinking we need to hook up, you and me, and I know it’s not going to be tonight but I can wait. s**t, you look like the type who’s worth waiting for, you know?”

He smiles and runs his forefinger across my knuckles, his touch light and feathery. “You aren’t from around here, are you?”

I laugh. “What do you mean?”

“You talk funny.”

I laugh again, surprised.

“No, not in a bad way…”

Now he’s snickering and his hand is on mine, he’s holding it to his arm as his fingers ease into my palm. I don’t think he knows he’s doing it.

“You use a lot of funny words, and you talk so fast. I don’t know half of what you mean but I like the way you say it.”

“I’m saying we can both sleep in the bed.” Now that he’s smiling, I can’t keep from grinning myself. “No fooling around, I promise. I like you, David. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t, and I’m hoping we can get to know each other better. You work at the glasshouse?”

He nods. That’s not far from where Jeremy works at the smithy. “s**t,” I drawl, closing my fingers around his. “I’ve been wanting to meet a boy like you for a long time now.”

“Why?” The way he looks up at me, not quite so shy anymore, suggests he knows exactly what I have in mind.

“Like you don’t know.”

He squeezes my hand in his and laughs again.

* * * *

I’m right—we both fit in the bed.

I strip down to my boxers. I know I have a nice body and I’m tight from all the exercise I get at the stables. It feels heavenly to finally be out of that costume now. But David doesn’t look at me until after I slip beneath the blankets. Then he blows out the lamp, opens the flue until the fire gutters low, and only after it’s dark does he take off his own clothes.

I want to tell him he doesn’t have to be like that, he has nothing to be ashamed of—I won’t look if he doesn’t want me to. But I can see his silhouette in the faint moonlight peeking between the shutters. He’s all muscled arms, flat stomach, curvy ass…how can I not look?

I’m glad it’s dark because I’m getting hard and I’m going to have to lie on my stomach so I don’t poke him while we sleep.

He crawls in beside me, the rustle of bed sheets soft like a sigh. Without thinking about what I’m doing, I roll over until I’m lying close to him, my breath on his neck and shoulders as I stare at him in the dark.

His eyes are wide, frightened. When he moves, his hand brushes against my crotch and my d**k flares to life. He pulls away quickly. “Nicholas,” he whispers.

It’s almost a question. But I promised I wouldn’t do anything, didn’t I?

So I drape an arm across his chest and curl up against him. I love the way he feels in my arms. It’s been months since I’ve slept with a boy, lying together, feeling another’s heart beat in the darkness. “Shh.”

I press my lips against his jaw where that muscle clenches and a tiny bit of scruff clings, the meager beginnings of a goatee it’ll probably take him years to grow. He turns in my embrace and backs up against me. I know he can feel how eager I am for him. I don’t want to scare him off so I start to pull away, but he surprises me by grinding his ass into my crotch.

Then he takes my hands and places them flat on his stomach with a sigh that tells me he likes this—I knew he would—and I kiss his neck. He’s so warm in my arms, so alive, I feel his whole body beat in time with mine. Snuggling into him as if we’ve known each other forever and didn’t meet for the first time tonight, I hold him close, breathe his name, and whisper goodnight.