A Haunted Love-9
501 Words
He’s gone in the morning.
I’m not surprised. Naked, I disentangle my legs from the sheets and stretch out on the bed, which still holds his warmth where he curled against me in sleep. My body aches with the memory of him in me, his body above mine, pressing me into the mattress. I imagine I can still hear the quiet creak of the wooden bed frame and the slight bump of the headboard against the wall with each thrust. I still feel him in me, on me, his hands phantoms roaming my body, his lips ghosts on my own. I’m falling for this one, I really think I am, and it’s an exciting whirlwind, terrible and wonderful all at the same time.
Downstairs, I’m halfway to the door when Angela spies me. “Nick!” she cries, exasperated. She steps in front of me with her hands on her hips and blocks my exit. “I told you—”
“I know, I know.” I pat her shoulder as I hurry around her. “I’m going to get you in trouble, you told me yesterday.”
“Can’t you find someplace else to fool around?” She blows her hair from her face and glares at me. “I mean, really. What will the tourists think?”
“I made the bed,” I tell her, defensive. Opening the door, I step out into the bright morning and stretch. “Really, Ange, I’m sorry.”
She holds the door and frowns. “If you’re sorry, then don’t do it again.”
I’d say I won’t but what if he asks me again? I’m not going to say no, not now, not after the way he moved in me and against me last night, not when thinking about him makes me horny. I want to find him and hold him and spirit him back into the room at the end of the hall, make love to him until we’re both too tired to move.
“Nicholas?” Angela prompts. She’s waiting for an answer.
I shrug. “I said I was sorry. Damn, do you jump all down his throat like this when he leaves?”
“I don’t see him leave.” There’s a pout in her voice that suggests she’d like to catch him once so she can holler at him, too.
“What time did you get here?”
“About an hour ago.”
And here I thought I’d missed him by a few minutes. When I woke I still felt him against me—the pillow still held the shape of his head. He couldn’t have left over an hour ago. There’s no way. “Well, I don’t know how he gave you the slip. I’m going to have to ask him for tips.”
She narrows her eyes, glaring around the street at the few tourists already out as if they might have seen him when she didn’t. “Did he just leave?”
“I don’t know. Angie, I’m going to be late—”
“I didn’t see him,” she says again.
I nod because what else am I supposed to say? So she didn’t see him. So he’s luckier than me, he’s able to avoid her and not go through this whole rigmarole. I was hoping to stop by the glasshouse before I had to be at the stables but I’m late now and won’t be able to see him this morning, f**k.
“Nick…”
“Sorry.” I hurry down the steps of the inn, sick of her trying to ruin my good mood with her nagging. “I gotta go.”
- Writer
