[Siren Allure: Erotic Paranormal Romance, ghosts, light bondage, HFN]
Charlotte Perth is all about sass because her job reminds her all too well the limits of human life. She’s clairvoyant, but her gift is unique. She can only summon murdered souls and interprets the visions they send her. When she’s hired by a wealthy woman to determine the fate of her great-nephew, little does Charlotte realize this is one ghost that refuses to cross over. Detective Jonas Daire feels Charlotte is a fake, out to swindle money from his rich aunt. When Charlotte proclaims the nephew is not only dead but has been murdered, Jonas feels especially disgusted at Charlotte’s “profession.” But when his cousin’s body is discovered in the place that she said it would be, with detailed accounts of how he died, he places her under suspicion. Jonas and Charlotte work together to find the killer. As the two grow closer together, another malevolent force won’t stop until the truth is buried…until Charlotte’s ghostly visions are her own.
A Siren Erotic Romance
“Thank you for coming all this way,” Mrs. Braddock-Masters murmured as she handed Charlotte her tea. “My other nephew, Jonas, thinks I’ve fallen off my rocker, but it’s been six weeks without a single word from Zach.”
Charlotte took one obligatory sip before setting down her cup and saucer. Her gaze flickered over the older woman’s pale lavender dress suit and the deep violet amethyst earrings peeking through the hair. Mrs. Braddock-Masters sat calm and composed, without a shred of emotion upon her face.
“I’ll help if I can,” she told her. “As I said in my letter, if I can’t help you, then there will be no charge for my visit with you today.”
“I agreed with your terms,” Mrs. Braddock-Masters said with a wave of her hand. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I hope you can’t help me, Miss Perth.”
Charlotte gave her a gentle smile. “Me, too. Believe me, this is not a job I enjoy doing.”
Mrs. Braddock-Masters opened her mouth to say something, but a commotion in the hallway caused Charlotte to turn. The den doors were thrown open, and in walked a magnificent mountain of a man. The room suddenly felt smaller as he looked at her and she at him. Charlotte thought it clichéd to think him tall, dark, and handsome, but that described him exactly. He had dark hair cut short and combed back, chocolate-brown eyes, and a square jaw that she suspected needed to be shaved twice a day. His charcoal suit tailored his body perfectly, showing off wide shoulders and a narrow waist. And he frowned at her as if she had done something naughty.
“Miss Perth, this is my other nephew, Jonas Daire. Jonas, this is—”
“Aunt Alice,” Jonas interrupted, looking away from Charlotte. “What are you doing?”
“Miss Perth has come to help me find Zach.”
He shot Charlotte a furious look. “We’ll find him. You don’t need to hire another charlatan.”
“Excuse me,” Charlotte said, standing and holding out her hand. “My name is Charlotte Perth. There’s no need for name calling.”
“Listen,” he snapped at her, ignoring her offered hand. “In the past six weeks my aunt has hired every fraud out there calling themselves a psychic in hopes of finding Zach.”
“I understand it’s been difficult,” Charlotte replied, keeping her voice soft and compassionate as she lowered her arm. “But I only want to help.”
“And I’m sure for a lovely price you will be more than helpful,” he said scornfully. “So what will it be? Séance? A trance? Or channeling, perhaps? Yes, I’ve done my research on so-called psychics.”
“Unfortunately there are many frauds out there,” she said. “But I’m not psychic.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “So what do you do?”
“I’m clairvoyant,” Charlotte answered and then braced herself. Over the years she’d gotten many different responses. Some people ran laughing from the room, some blessed themselves and started quoting the bible. It was hard to gauge what Jonas Daire would do.
“What exactly does that mean?” he asked, frowning.
Charlotte sat back down in her chair. She picked up her tea cup and took a fortifying sip before replacing it. Then she leaned back and crossed her legs before looking up at Jonas.
“Clairvoyance means clear seeing, not talking. And if your cousin is dead then he may be trying to share a message the only way he can. The dead don’t talk, Mr. Daire, at least not like you and I.”
“There’s always a chance my cousin is still alive.”
“I certainly hope that’s the case,” she told him.
The man crossed his arms. “Then how do they talk, Miss Perth?”
“Some communicate like you said, through channeling or séances. But most use visions, and that’s what I can see.”
She saw derision flare back to life in his eyes. “And for a fee you’ll continue to see these visions and interpret them, right?”
“Actually, payment falls under client confidentiality,” she replied calmly. “And Mrs. Braddock-Masters has agreed to that, so I’ll not be discussing that with you.”
His lips compressed. “So, is Zach around? Or maybe my great-uncle Peter. He died about ten years ago and could be lingering around here somewhere.”
“My specialty is spirits who’ve been murdered.”
Jonas sucked in a breath and sat down next to his aunt on the sofa. “That’s not funny, Miss Perth.”
“No, it’s not.”
“You do realize I’m a homicide detective, don’t you?”
“No,” she replied. “I didn’t know.”
He was going to have to let her go tomorrow morning. Was he ready for that? And if he answered no to that question, then what exactly was he ready for?
Jonas lay in his bed staring at his dark bedroom ceiling. He’d had one hell of a week, starting with being discharged from the hospital. He’d had to give a statement to IA, had to go for counseling as mandatory for his return to duty after he healed, and then, finally, he had to attend Zach’s funeral. He was going to miss his cousin like hell.
Charlotte had stayed with him, being there, comforting him, and making him occasionally forget the sadness. Now she was leaving, too, and he didn’t know how to feel about that.
He had several pillows propping his upper body up because the damn sling was a fucking nuisance, but he did have Charlotte’s luscious little body curled around his good side for compensation. He liked how she felt draped over him, liked how right it felt to have her in his arms.
Zach had always been the one to get the girls. He’d had a natural charm that attracted the fairer sex like bees to honey. He’d been the athletic one, while Jonas had been the academic student. Zach had always known what to say and how to say it, and Jonas had envied his cousin’s ease with women. They had been on complete opposite ends of the spectrum but had been the best of friends.
It wasn’t that Jonas didn’t date. He’d had plenty of girlfriends over the years, but there’d always been something that held him back from feeling exactly right. That something, or someone, was missing.
Yet with Charlotte, that missing piece had suddenly clicked into place, and he’d felt whole. And that made him realize the answer to his question was no. He wasn’t ready to let her go. He knew he was teetering on a very slick slope, one that possibly held the answers to his heart, and he’d be damned if he let her walk away before fully realizing what made him need her so much.
She lay half draped over his waist, which allowed his one good hand to run down her back. She’d worn a tank top and tiny, frilly panties to sleep in. His fingers were just able to stroke the soft skin where her ass cheeks played peek-a-boo with the elastic, and her body shivered against him, and it wasn’t because she was cold. Knowing she was awake and knowing he had the power to make her shiver sent his libido into overdrive. Heat flooded through him, causing his dick to spring to life. He wanted her. Holy Christ, he wanted her. Would there ever be a time when he didn’t want her?
Ignoring the burn in his injured shoulder, he used his good hand and body to roll her only to her back. Her eyes looked up at him in the moonlight-infused room, and he could read the desire on her face like a neon sign.
Fuck! She was so beautiful.
“I want you,” she whispered, and there was a raw intensity in her voice he’d never heard before. “Now. Right now.”
She reached down and began wiggling her hips. It took him a moment to realize she was trying to get her panties off. He wasn’t much help with his bandaged arm, so he eased back enough so she could get the job done. To his surprise she pulled his pajama pants down as well, not off him completely but enough to allow his now throbbing cock to burst free.
Immediately, she began pumping the shaft, her deft little hands working him like he was a fucking cow giving milk. Sweat popped out over his forehead, some from the strain of having his bad arm at an awkward angle, but mostly because he was going up in flames.
“I need a condom,” he grated through clenched teeth. “I want to bury my cock into that tight little pussy so bad I’m about ready to self-combust.”
She gave a breathy moan, and her hand left him. He felt her stretching toward the nightstand and a second later heard the tear of a foil pack. She rolled the condom on and then placed her hands on his chest.
“Fuck me,” she ordered.
“Are you ready for me? Are you nice and wet?”
His answer was a frantic head nod, and he took that as a good sign because there was no way in hell he could hold back. Something hot and heavy gripped him, singing through his blood, and turned his brain to mush. Maybe it was the thought that she was leaving him or the fact that just a couple of days ago she stood on the other end of a barrel. Whatever this need was that revved him up, he let it guide him as he sunk into her snug channel.
“Fuck!” he groaned, panting. His instinct took over, his hips pumping into her with long, steady strokes.
“Please, Jonas. More. Harder. I want it harder!”
Her plea drove him wild, and he gave her exactly what she wanted, what he wanted. Her cries of pleasure encouraged him to thrust harder, deeper. Her hot little cunt was sucking him in, and he was fast losing control.
“Oh god, Charlotte,” he managed to grunt.
“Yes!” she cried. “Oh yes, yes!”
She was so hot, so slick. He wanted to bury himself so deeply inside her that she wouldn’t want to walk away from him. He couldn’t fucking lose her, couldn’t let her vanish from his life.
“Holy fuck, baby!”