Spirit’s Release

Téa Trelawny

Sex generates enough energy for ghosts to manifest. That’s Dera’s theory, and the sultry ghost hunter wants to test it with her sexy ex-boss.

Alec repressed his hunger for Dera when she worked for him, but three years later she wants to use his body for paranormal research…and use it hard. If raw sex can save his new business from the ghost that threatens it, it’s all in the name of science, right? The fact that his partner will be delicious Dera only makes the experiment more enticing. But will the ghost cooperate…or get in the way?

An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

www.ellorascave.com

Spirit’s Release

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Spirit’s Release Copyright © 2010 Téa Trelawny

Edited by Helen Woodall

Cover art by Syneca

Electronic book publication February 2010

The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing.

With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.

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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

Spirit’s Release

Téa Trelawny

Dedication

To those who have gone ahead…and those who linger.

Contents

Cover Page

Title Page

Copyright Page

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

About the Author

Chapter One

“Mainly honeymooners complain?” Dera Morgan asked as she followed Alec Thorn into the allegedly haunted bedroom. Moonlight filled the elegant chamber through windows that overlooked the Welsh countryside, giving the air a cool, silvered quality.

“Yes.” Alec was skeptical that a spirit inhabited the old manor house that he’d converted to an upscale inn. “Because of the ghost, they never get to…um…finish what they’re doing. If you know what I mean.”

Dera certainly did know. If nothing else, the twinkle in Alec’s green eyes gave it away. That twinkle also stirred her desires to finish what had started between them when she’d worked at his London real estate firm. Back then he had resisted her attempts at seduction, claiming it was unethical for a man to date a woman in his employ. But, three years later, she no longer worked for him, and the moment she’d seen him this evening, she’d known that her feelings for him hadn’t changed. But she wasn’t ready to act until she felt him out. No sense making a fool of herself again.

“It’s a lovely room,” she said, strolling to the center of it. Exposed beams gave the high ceilings an illusion of coziness while crimson hangings on the canopied bed lent richness to the décor. Old tapestries hung from the stone walls between wide mullioned windows that sported plush window seats. “Quite where I should like to enjoy my honeymoon.”

Alec tucked his hands into the pockets of his jeans, drawing Dera’s gaze downward. She blushed when she realized she was staring, looking for the most obvious sign that his feelings for her—at least the physical ones—had remained unchanged over the years.

She couldn’t tell. Still, she was hopeful. Alec might have resisted her in the past, but he’d never denied that he’d wanted her. In fact, after she’d kissed him passionately their last night together, he’d confessed his powerful attraction to her. But he’d been adamant that nothing could come of it.

“Anytime you’d like to spend a night here, you’ve but to say so,” he said, his voice heavy with what she hoped was meaning.

Reaching the bed, she ran one hand over the pale gray bedspread. The velvet tickled her palm almost as strongly as his tone tickled that spot behind and below her belly. “I think tonight might be a good night. For ghost hunting, of course.”

“Of course.”

As his gaze roamed down her body, pausing on her breasts, she nipped at her lower lip. Had she dressed too provocatively? The moment she’d realized who was calling her office the previous morning, she’d decided that her regular ghost hunting outfit of khaki trousers and black sweater would never do. But had she gone overboard with her skin-tight jeans and red silk blouse? Was she being too obvious?

His appreciative smile convinced her she’d chosen well. Oh yes. There was hope.

Averting her own smiling gaze, she reached inside the leather bag that hung from her left shoulder and drew out her K2 meter. Its LED lights flashed briefly when she switched it on and then they turned dark. She began to move around the room, watching the lights on the device for any sign of electromagnetic energy that might indicate the presence of a spirit.

“What’s that?” Alec asked.

His boot heels made a heavy, determined sound against the oak floor as he followed her and she couldn’t help looking back at him. He wore a buttery yellow sweater over his black jeans, and his v-shaped neckline revealed just a bit of the hair on his chest. She’d seen his bare chest their last night together in London—hell, she’d practically ripped his shirt from his body—and the memory of their kiss caused another ticklish tug of muscle deep inside her lower body.

“It’s an electromagnet field detector,” she answered, stopping at the foot of the bed. “It picks up on the energy of spirits.”

“Very scientific.” Reaching her, he peered over her shoulder at the handheld device. Only a few inches taller than she—and she was tall—he brushed her hair with his ear. Then, as if embarrassed by the inadvertent contact, he drew back. “Is it…um…detecting any energy right now?”

Not the kind I’m detecting, she thought as that brief touch sent her internal temperature spiking.

“Not yet,” she said, and then paused to clear her sudden hoarseness. “Where does the ghost usually appear?”

“I’m told that it moves from the corridor doorway toward the side of the bed nearest the window.”

“And you said it’s not a full manifestation, correct?” She moved on around to the indicated side of the bed. “It’s more a wispy figure than a full one?”

“That’s what they say.”

He followed her. Moonlight fell through the windows, casting their shadows over the pale bedspread. Side by side, the silhouettes of their upper bodies touched like two lovers lying across the wide bed. Dera withheld a sigh of longing that he would see the same image.

“The figure hovers here,” he said, shifting to stand behind her. To her surprise, he settled his hands on her waist and drew her back slightly. “Just…here.”

Her shoulder blades came up against his chest and his hands remained on her waist. The intimate position sent a thrill through her. But it wasn’t quite enough. Eager for that final piece of evidence that his desire for her had survived their years apart, she shifted her weight so that her backside touched the front of his jeans. She felt the long ridge of flesh that pressed against his zipper and heat coursed through her.

Oh yes. He’s definitely still interested.

“What happens next?” she asked, lowering her voice. “I mean…when they see it?”

“The couple on the bed is usually frozen in fear. Then the figure appears to pitch toward them before it suddenly vanishes.” He didn’t move away but he didn’t move closer either. “Then my night clerk gets a terrified phone call and I’m summoned to check out a reported intruder.”

“I…see.” She wanted him to lift his hands from her waist and skim them around to her breasts. Sexual energy sizzled through her body, quickening her heartbeat until she was certain he must hear it in the night.

“Do you, Dera?” His lips brushed her ear. “Do you see?”

Before she could answer—and her answer would have been to turn and hurl herself against him—the temperature of the room dropped. Alec lifted his head and released a startled oath. At the same moment, Dera spied movement on the other side of the bed, near the corridor door. A gauzy shadow of white drifted toward the bed.

Her thoughts of desire and seduction evaporated as the mist paused and condensed. It shuddered briefly and then the vaporous form whipped around the foot of the bed. Before she could react, Alec yanked Dera backward, his legs tangling with hers as they stumbled toward the moonlit windows. He took the brunt of their weight as he plunked down upon a window seat and Dera landed in his lap.

The mist reached the place where they had stood. The chill in the room intensified. From her peripheral vision, Dera saw that the lights on the K2 meter flashing wildly.

“What the—”

At Alec’s voice, the mist abruptly vanished. The temperature in the room returned to normal and the lights on the K2 meter went dark. It was as if nothing had happened.

Dera stared at the place where she’d seen the apparition. “I take it you’ve never seen that before,” she whispered.

A moment passed before Alec answered in as low a voice, “Never. I only half-believed the people who told me about it.”

“And now?”

“I can’t deny my own eyes, can I?”

He took in a deep breath. She heard it, felt the swelling of his chest against her back, became aware of just how intimately they were joined there on that window seat. His inner thighs embraced her outer ones. One of his hands gripped her arm. His other hand rested across her lap, his fingers brushing her stomach.

Recognizing their position had the effect of jolting her libido back to life. But as she prepared to act on it, he stood her on her feet and stepped away.

* * * * *

Jacob Elliott hovered in the dark aloneness that had been his prison for too many years. Guilt drained him, keeping him from moving on, punishing him for leaving Sophie to attend a horse sale when she was ill. She had died alone and, for that, he did not deserve to be with her. His guilt was compounded when he’d taken his own life, denying himself the chance to move on with her.

Now, as in few moments since his death, he not only remembered what he had done, but he also possessed a vague awareness of the world around him. Nights like this, he had found himself in the corridor outside the bedchamber he had shared with his wife. He had been driven to enter the room, overwhelmed by the knowledge that his beloved lay dead inside. Grief had driven him to draw his dagger and plunge it into his own chest that he might join her in the afterlife. But instead of passing on, he merely returned to the darkness, to the guilt…to the waiting.

Even now, the darkness beckoned him.

* * * * *

Alec stepped toward the bed. “I can’t believe it. I thought it was just a legend, a story told to frighten children.”

“It’s nothing to fear,” Dera said, her voice soothing in that moonlit room. “It appears to be a simple residual haunting.”

“Simple?” He swung back toward her. “How can you call that simple? It was a-a ghost! In my inn…my home!”

Her sympathetic expression told him that his reaction didn’t surprise her. “The spirit has probably been here for a long time. You simply weren’t aware of it before.”

“How could I not be aware? The cold…what we saw…”

“Tell me the story again,” she urged.

He stared at the bed. “In the eighteenth century, Jacob Elliott built this house for his bride, Sophie. They lived here less than a year when Jacob was called away on business. He returned to find that Sophie had passed away of a fever. He was so grief-stricken that he drew his dagger and stabbed himself in the heart. He fell onto the bed, across her body, and died. The legend says that his spirit returns occasionally, repeating his moment of death.”

“That sounds like what we saw. The figure stood here.” She stepped nearer the bed. “It paused and then made a move that I would liken to drawing a dagger.”

“But then it vanished.”

She smiled at him. “No offense, but you kind of yelped. I’m afraid that might have frightened it away.”

He placed a hand over his heart and stared at her in disbelief. “I frightened it?”

She laughed. “Perhaps frightened isn’t the right word. But you disturbed the atmosphere enough to stop the manifestation.”

The sound of her laughter tickled down inside his chest, calming his fear and shifting his inner thoughts. Three years had passed since he’d last seen her, and he was amazed to discover that his attraction to her hadn’t changed. Even when she’d worked for him, he’d found it hard to keep his hands off her. That last night he’d almost failed, almost moved beyond that wet, wild kiss. Only a phone call about her wounded brother had kept them from consummating their desire. She’d left and—but for a short phone call saying she was leaving the firm to help her brother recuperate—he hadn’t heard from her again.

“According to the witnesses,” she continued, “When the spirit manifests, it repeats the same motions every time. How often have you heard reports of this happening?”

“Almost from the moment I opened the inn two months ago.” He’d come across the property a year earlier and had found it to be too good a deal to pass up. Giving up his career in real estate, he’d thrown everything he had into becoming a gentleman innkeeper. But the ghost—and he had to admit now that it was real—was making it difficult to keep guests in this room for even a full night. “Some of the former staff stayed on and they told stories, but I didn’t believe them. I was certain we would find a logical explanation.”

Tapping a fingertip against her lips, Dera strolled around the bed. Alec watched her move—her trim hips swaying, her long legs graceful—and his fear dimmed further. How could he worry about a ghost when he had her here, just inches from his grasp?

“Did anyone ever see this spirit when they were alone?” she asked.

“I’m not sure I understand the question.” Or maybe it was the way her jeans fit so snugly over her round ass that made it difficult for him to understand, to focus on the subject at hand. He’d never allowed himself to consider touching those sweet cheeks before—not when she worked for him. Not even when she’d tried—and oh how she’d tried—to seduce him. He’d lost at least three buttons before he managed to end that wild kiss.

She doesn’t work for you now. But does she still feel the same attraction?

He allowed himself to wonder as he stroked her lush body with his eyes. She had legs long enough to curl around him and hold him to her. And her breasts appeared heavy and soft. And her amazing mouth—

She turned back toward him and his gaze shot to her eyes. “You said that since you’ve opened the inn, couples reported seeing the ghost. Did single people ever stay in this room?”

“A few.” With difficulty, he turned his thoughts to the matter at hand. “But none of them mentioned the ghost.”

She returned to the side of the bed where he stood. “And what would couples be doing that would be different from single people?”

“Well…” Heat swept through him. “Of course they might…”

Alec’s heart began to throb as Dera’s gaze settled on him. Although he couldn’t see their color in the moonlight, he saw that special gleam that told him she was thinking the same thing that he was thinking. And it had nothing to do with other couples.

“There is a theory,” she said slowly, lowering the strap of her leather bag down her arm as if it was the strap of a bra. “It says that, in order to manifest, spirits need energy from their environment. They draw it from batteries, storms or even from humans.” She lowered the bag to the floor. “What generates more energy than…sex?”

“I’m sure there are several activities that could generate that kind of energy,” he said just as slowly. The topic certainly was energizing him. His gaze fell to her silky red blouse. As she shifted more fully into the moonlight, he saw her nipples straining against the cloth. The temperature of the room was warm now—which meant that internal sensations must be prompting that luscious display.

“Before we saw the ghost a few minutes ago, you and I were both…feeling…certain things.” A smile fluttered over her face. “You can’t deny it, Alec.”

He shook his head slowly. “No. I can’t deny it.”

“Perhaps we were providing the energy that Jacob’s spirit needed in order to appear.” A moment passed. Then, “I have an idea how we can find out,” she said, and her hands rose to the top button of her blouse. “Take off your sweater.”

“Take off my…” His tongue seemed suddenly to stop working. Dera had freed the top button on her blouse and was sliding her fingers down toward the second. Already he could see the shadow of cleavage at the opening.

“Let’s generate some energy, Alec.” Freeing the second button, she took a step toward him.

Need tugged low in his gut. “I’m not sure I want to be used for a scientific experiment.” His hoarse voice proved he was lying. He wanted to be used in any way she might think to use him.

“You know the ghost isn’t the only reason I want to get you naked.” She freed the third button. Her blouse gaped open, revealing a red bra and creamy flesh. “I want to pick up where we left off that last evening we were together. I want to know if my fantasies were accurate.”

His cock swelled against the zipper on his jeans. The need for release tightened every muscle in his body.

“You do remember where we left off, don’t you?”

She freed that last button and then peeled the blouse back and let it glide to the floor. The red bra against her pale flesh had his mouth watering. Her breasts, plump and high, made his fingers twitch with the temptation to touch them. She toed off her shoes and her jeans—so tight that they outlined every curve of her lower body—slid free seconds later.

“I remember,” he said, his voice a husky shadow of itself.

“I don’t work for you now, so there’s no reason we can’t be together.”

He tried to lift his gaze from her breasts to her face, but he couldn’t. “Technically, you’re working for me now. You’re providing me with investigative services.”

“Oh no. I don’t charge my friends for those services.”

His damn sense of ethics pushed him to ask, “But your brothers…aren’t they your partners? Won’t they have something to say about it?”

“They don’t know anything about this. Whatever terms we come to are between you and me.”

Stepping forward, he reached with both hands to cup the sides of her face. He saw surprise in her eyes…apparently she’d expected him to touch her lovely breasts first. But he wanted her to know that he’d never stopped wanting her in more than a physical way. “I’ve thought of you so often, Dera.”

“And I of you.” Touching his waist, she took a step closer, leaving a scant inch or two between their bodies. “We’ve lost so much time because of…”

As her voice faded, he smiled. “Because of my high ethics?”

She gave him a slow nod. “And Collin’s injury and then my new career as a ghost hunter kept me away from you.”

“We can make up for it tonight.”

A wicked smile curled her lips and she turned her head to press a kiss into his left hand. The tip of her tongue tickled his palm. Her fingers, still at his waist, bunched the hem of his sweater.

“We can’t do much,” she said, “Until we get you naked.”

Chapter Two

Something tickled Jacob to awareness. He found himself at the bedchamber door. Confusion swirled his thoughts. Why was it dark? He’d arrived home only moments before, heard the news of Sophie’s illness and—

Fear and worry filled him so that he couldn’t catch his breath. He moved toward the door.

* * * * *

Dera had waited so long for this…too long. Alec lifted his arms, allowing her to strip his sweater upward. Although she wanted him undressed as quickly as possible, she moved slowly, enjoying the revelation of each inch of warm masculinity. His skin was golden, muscular and dusted with dark hair, and the scent of his heated flesh caused a tightening deep inside her. She bent her head so that she could press her lips to the center of his breastbone. Kissing, nuzzling through the curls that crossed his chest, inhaling his scent, she was only barely aware of him taking over the final removal of his sweater. Then his arms slid around her and his lips descended to touch the side of her neck.

We haven’t even kissed, she thought and, as if reading her mind, he pushed one hand into her hair, twisting his fingers through the dark locks and tugging her head up and back. She caught a glint in his eyes just before his mouth crashed down on hers. His lips pressed hers apart and his tongue swept inside to taste, devour, plunder. She groaned at the invasion…or was it he who groaned? It didn’t matter.

Rising on her toes to bring herself up the two or three inches that separated them in height, she pressed her bra-clad breasts to his bare chest. His body was so warm, his embrace powerful. She felt the wonderful length of steel behind the zipper of his jeans as it pressed against her pubic bone. Lifting one of her legs to stroke her knee along the outside of his thigh, she felt herself open beneath her panties, and the heat from him eased inside her, making her passage weep. As her need for him intensified, she was only vaguely aware of him releasing the hooks on her bra.

Another groan filled the night and this time she knew that it came from him. Breaking the kiss, he whipped her around. His hands swept up the front of her body to grip her breasts and haul her back against his chest. Pleasure speared her and she arched into his hands so that her breasts spilled through his widespread fingers. Doing so also brought her ass in closer contact with his jeans and the rigid length of his cock pressed into the cleft between her cheeks. The thought that only thin nylon and rough denim separated them sent another spear of pleasure into her. But this one was sharper and more focused inside her lower body.

“I’ve wanted this—wanted you—for so long,” he whispered as he buried his face once more in the side of her neck.

“Me, too,” was all she could manage to say as his hands stroked and squeezed her breasts. His fingers plucked at her nipples while his mouth captured one of her earlobes and began to suck it, swirling his tongue against the flesh. Vibrations of need hummed through her body as he began to kiss and nip a path down her neck to her shoulder.

He must have felt that vibration for he slid his hands downward, hooked his thumbs into the sides of her panties and stripped them away. The motion had him bending at the knees, running his tongue down her spine. His teeth nipped at her flesh where her lower back began to curve down to her ass, sending goose bumps crawling over her skin. As he straightened, one of his hands came around in front of her, stroking toward her throbbing pussy. With each advance of his hand, the need inside her coiled tighter. At last his fingers pushed through the tangle of curls covering her mound, finding her labia swollen and throbbing. But instead of breaching those heavy lips, his fingers pinched them together. Exquisite need accompanied a rush of moisture, and she reached one of her own hands down to grip his fingers and press them more tightly together and upward so that the sensation flowed up her vagina and into her womb.

Yes, she thought—or maybe she said it—as her pleasure intensified.

His free hand came around to join the other at her labia and his body aligned with hers. He was naked at last. His bare cock—so hard and hot—ground against her ass. His chest hair tickled her shoulder blades, his thighs bumped hers and then one of his feet hooked around her ankle. He drew his leg outward, forcing her legs apart so that her pussy opened to him.

Dera gasped as wetness surged anew within the folds of her labia. A cry of completion escaped her as he pushed two fingers into her weeping passage, sending sparks across her saturated nerves. Teetering on the brink of climax, she longed for release. At the same time, she wanted to hold fast to this moment, this sensation. She tried to hold off but when one of his hands rose to grip her breast again, to pinch her swollen nipple, she lost control. Need spiraled tighter for one more exquisite instant and then sprang free. Pleasure coursed through her body, pulsing in waves of release that had her groaning aloud.

Suddenly, she was turning, falling, landing on the bed. His mouth was covering hers, his cock sliding inside her body. The touch of his hard flesh to her convulsing passage intensified her climax and she cried out again as her body shattered.

Alec groaned as her tight passage convulsed around his cock. She’d come so fast, her inner muscles clenching around him, drawing him deep inside. Pleasure rippled through him, tightening his leg and abdominal muscles. Even his ass cheeks clenched as he was overcome by a primitive urge to pound inside her. But he didn’t want this encounter to end too quickly. He’d waited too long and he wanted the pleasure to last. And yet his body didn’t seem to care what his mind wanted. Her passage was tight and wet, and the ripples of her climax undulated along his staff. His balls tightened and his cock swelled and throbbed, urging him to press deeper. His thigh muscles took control of the situation, putting power behind his thrusts into her.

So good. It feels…so…damn good.

He looked down at her, tried to focus on the way her black hair spread over the pale gray bedspread, tried to hold on to this wonderful wanting that coiled inside his gut. But her eyes distracted him. Passion and moonlight glazed those dark blue orbs as she cried out in climax yet again. Energy surged through his body and he exploded into a million pieces.

* * * * *

Jacob stared at the couple on the bed. Energy shot from their joined bodies, surrounding him, filling him with vitality. The surge cleared his mind and resurrected myriad memories—his beloved lying dead where these two strangers now coupled, the madness that had seized him, driving him to draw his dagger. He remembered pain, the flow of blood, the pitch forward to die across Sophie’s still warm body.

A passionate cry drew his attention back to the woman on the bed. She stared at him over her lover’s shoulder just before her eyes glazed over with fulfillment. More memories returned—of other lovers who had gazed upon him in fear. All had sprung apart, their energies abruptly ending and sending him back into darkness.

But this couple continued to drive together, filling the very air with the force of their love for each other. That force flowed into Jacob, empowering him to think beyond the madness with which grief had infected him that terrible night.

“God, forgive me for taking the cowardly way,” he whispered, giving voice to feelings he had barely grasped in the past. “But I can’t be sorry. I did what I needed to do. I didn’t—don’t—deserve to be with Sophie.”

Warmth coursed along his back and he turned. Golden light pulsed through the windows. A silhouette formed there, a dear form who had his heart swelling with joy.

Sophie.

“Come, love,” she said, her voice like a spring breeze. “You have but to reach out and we can be together.”

Her arms opened to him but he hesitated. “I left you to die alone. That is unforgiveable.”

She shook her head and stars seemed to spark from her golden hair. “Your love is your forgiveness. Come…before the energy disperses and the darkness takes you down once more.”

He felt it already—a dimming of awareness. Looking back at the bed, he saw that the lovers had separated. They lay side by side, their gazes focused on him. They had given him the energy to appear, to stay long enough to reach for the salvation that Sophie offered.

Can it be so simple?

Gathering what energy remained, he turned back toward the golden light. He reached for Sophie’s hand, felt the warmth of her fingertips, and then she was drawing him forward. The light folded around him and he moved with Sophie into the heaven he had been longing to reach.

* * * * *

Dera looked at Alec as they both leaned up on their elbows. “Did you see them?” she whispered. “Did you hear them?”

He nodded slowly, still staring at the window through which the beautiful golden light had briefly appeared. “I did.”

A sense of wonder coursed through her, heightened by the pleasure that she and Alec had shared. “I think your spirit problem has been solved.”

“I think you’re right.” He turned to face her, a smile lighting his eyes. “Why don’t we celebrate their reunion?”

Rolling to her side, she lifted her fingers to stroke down the center of his bare chest. Her touch caused his skin to prickle and his nipples to tighten. “I think we have our own reunion to celebrate,” she said, aroused by his reaction.

“I agree,” he said and then moved in close, his lips capturing hers in a soul-searing kiss.

About the Author

Whether it’s a spirited elevator in an old Manhattan highrise or a haunted castle on a Welsh hillside, Téa Trelawny is there, waiting and watching and spinning the stories she finds. A multi-published author, she writes stories filled with sexual energy, devoted lovers and a twist of the supernatural. When she’s not writing, Téa entertains herself with research into the paranormal, looking for tales of love with an edge of magic.

Téa welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and e-mail address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.

Tell Us What You Think

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Also by Téa Trelawny

Fill ’Er Up?

Going Down?

Warrior’s Release

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Table of Contents

Cover Page

Title Page

Copyright Page

Dedication

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

About the Author