Heart's Delight Page 12
Heart’s Delight
racks. Sparkling crockery were stacked on shelves. It was not like any bachelor kitchen Elaine had ever seen.
“I don’t use the front of the house at all.” Jim filled a kettle at the stainless steel sink.
“I can do all my living right here. The place is too big for me really, but my wife loved it. I couldn’t part with it. What do you think of my housekeeping?”
He lit a gas ring and smiled at her, his eyes twinkling.
Elaine said what she’d been thinking. “It would put my kitchen to shame.”
“Well, every time I’m tempted to let go, I can hear my wife’s voice and I keep it just as she left it.”
He motioned Elaine to sit at the table.
“How long has she been gone?”
“Ten years.” He fingered the sugar bowl. “It was mercifully fast. Then it was just me and Bob, my son. He was killed six years ago in a car crash. He was only twenty.”
The kettle whistled and he stood up abruptly and busied himself with tea bags and cups, his face turned away.
“You must miss them terribly.”
“Yup. Every minute of every day.”
He brought the steaming tea to the table and pushed milk and sugar toward her.
“Now it’s your turn.”
Elaine stirred her tea and looked at him.
“I said fair trade was spending some time talking, so tell me about yourself. I know you love horses and you treat them well. What else?”
“Well, I lost someone in a car accident too,” Elaine began. She sipped the tea and nibbled on an oatmeal cookie. She hadn’t intended to divulge all her problems but Jim was a good listener and she found herself telling about her financial difficulties, the developer and finishing with the fire and the vandalism. Although Jim had spoken of hearing his wife’s voice, she figured that was a figure of speech and she kept quiet about the mirror and Quinn.
When she finished Jim stood up and carried the tea cups to the sink. He spoke with his back to her as he turned on the water. “Sounds as if you need somewhere to stay.”
“I have some friends in town…”
He turned to face her, drying his hands on a towel. “I’m sure you have, a pretty girl like you. Bright, too.” He folded the towel and hung it on a rail, smoothing it out. “But your friends aren’t near the horses, are they?”
“No, but—”
“Are they both yours?”
“Only Star, the mare. She’s in foal, as I’m sure you noticed. The other has boarded with me for three years. The owners are out of the country right now.”
“So they won’t suddenly appear and whisk the animal away?”
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“Right.”
“But you want to make sure both horses are safe?”
“Of course.”
“Come with me.”
Once again Jim led the way without a backward glance and Elaine found herself on her feet and following. He led the way to a side door that opened into a wide hallway.
This was obviously a wing of the house she had not noticed. Jim talked as he moved on.
“Built this extension for Bob after he left school. Figured he’d want some privacy if he was to stay home.” He opened a door. “There’s a living room and a small bedroom.
Plus a kitchenette where you can make a cup of coffee—”
The whole place gleamed and shone like the rest of the house. A faint lemony perfume wafted on the breeze from a half-open window. The curtains stirred. Jim strode forward and flung open the door to a bedroom. A queen-sized bed almost filled the space, but a small dresser stood in the corner.
“En suite bathroom over there.” He waved a hand.
“It’s lovely.” Elaine took a breath. “But I don’t think I could afford—”
“Do you want to insult me?”
“Of course not—”
“Then don’t talk nonsense. You can pay me when the insurance comes through or you sell out.”
She frowned. “I won’t sell out.”
“I know, my dear. Just thinking of all possible options.” He patted her hand.
“There’s one other thing—I may have a friend join me—”
“Hmm.” He frowned. “Male or female?”
She swallowed. “Male.”
“Serious?”
She nodded.
“Love?”
She took a deep breath and felt the pleasure balls move inside her. Instinctively she clenched the muscles of her vagina. “Yes.”
“Well, if there’s one thing I’ve learned over the years it’s that love is the most important thing. I never told my wife often enough that I loved her and I regret it every day. Bring your friend along. If I don’t like him I’ll tell you so.” He tried to put on a stern look, but a smile broke through. “Does he like horses?”
“He’s wonderful with horses.”
“Chances are I’ll get along fine with him. It’s all settled then.” He took a set of keys from a hook and held them out. “Welcome to Storm Ridge. When will your friend get here?”
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“Er—sometime tonight. After dark.”
“I go to bed at nine, so don’t make a lot of noise when you come in.”
She thought of Quinn coming back and lying in bed with her. He had made her cry out time and again and she had let fly with abandon in her own bed. She would need to muffle her cries with this kind old man close by. She realized she no longer doubted that Quinn would return. Just another symptom of her love mania.
The keys in her hand, she brushed a kiss on Jim’s leathery cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered. “We’ll be like mice.”
“Surrounded by metal,” Elaine thought as she slid behind the wheel of her pickup and touched the candlestick. Quinn’s diamond and gold pin was in her pocket, pressing into her thigh, reminding her of his smile and warm eyes. The pleasure balls lay snugly inside her body, recalling with every movement the sensation of him buried deep within her. The candlestick lay within reach, solid proof of where Quinn had come from. She had no idea if metals played any part in paranormal experiences. She either had too much metal or not enough and there was nothing now she could do about it.
She was probably crazy, going back alone to the house. But she had no choice. It was as if some drug had gripped her brain in a powerful addiction that she could not refuse. If there was any chance of bringing Quinn back, she had to take it.
The sun was low as she drove home, the windows of the truck wide open. She inhaled the warm fragrances of summer as she passed different locations—cut grass, wood fire, sizzling steaks, full-blown flowers. She pulled into her own drive and switched off the engine, sitting in the sudden silence. The motor ticked quietly as it cooled and a sudden breeze ruffled the trees. Cries from down by the lake startled her, until she realized there must be a baseball match in the park. Apart from the burned-out stables, everything looked perfectly normal, except there were no horses in the paddocks.
She got out of the truck, closing the door softly so as not to disturb the calm. It was some time since she had paused to truly take in all the details of the property. It had grown so familiar to her that she didn’t see it anymore. It was a beautiful spread, the house sheltered in a corner by tall beeches and the perimeter edged with poplars that had towered over everything when she was a child. Each of the paddocks had a shady spot as well as room for the animals to trot.
She tried to imagine it with bungalows and townhouses and streets and her mind balked. But that didn’t mean it couldn’t happen. Quinn’s house had disappeared and was now a parking lot. This place could go the same way.
She reached in through the open window and seized the candlestick. The sun was low now and above the trees she could make out the gossamer outline of the moon. It still looked full, even though she knew there was a tiny sliver taken from one side.
Desire, the moon, the candlest
ick, the mirror. She squeezed her eyes closed, praying they would be enough.
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Quinn lounged on the sofa, legs crossed, one foot dangling. He held a cold cup of tea in one hand and toyed with the spoon. He could no more have swallowed a mouthful than fly in the air. His stomach clenched in knots as he prayed that Margaret would put down her damned sewing and take herself off to bed. The evening had been interminable. First Margaret and Walter had examined the return of Margaret’s money in minute detail, driving him nearly mad with their questions and speculations. He suffered with a smile on his face, telling himself this would be the last time he would see his sister in this life.
Then Edward had demanded a story. That had been harder. He loved the boy and it pained him deeply to think he would not see him grow up.
Elaine had been afraid that he might not want to return to her once he was back in his own time, but she need not have worried. He couldn’t wait to get back to her and the wonders of her world. She had said there were machines to read books to you. He might spend the rest of his life just listening to books and making love to Elaine.
At the thought his cock stirred in his trousers and he lowered the teacup to hide the movement. Margaret looked up and clipped the thread from her needlework. “I think I’m ready for bed,” she announced.
Walter folded his paper. “I’ll come with you, my dear.”
Quinn couldn’t hide a smile. If Elaine had offered such an invitation he would have leapt to his feet and carried her off up the stairs, the needlework be damned. That is, if he didn’t ravish her then and there on the hearthrug.
He glanced at the mirror. Of course, he had never been able to see through it, so he had no idea what Elaine was doing. Was she there in her living room waiting for him?
He stood when his sister rose to her feet. She came toward him and offered her cheek for a kiss. Instead, he encircled her with his arms and hugged her tight. “I love you, Margaret,” he croaked. “Never forget that.”
She stood for a moment then pushed away. She raised one hand to smooth his hair, a puzzled look on her face. “I love you, too, dear boy.”
“I know you do. If ever I have to go away, will you think kindly of me?”
“Go away? What are you talking about?”
“Some business might call me away suddenly. If it does, remember that I’ll always be grateful for what you did for me.”
She laughed. “I’m your sister. You’re my baby brother. I’ll always have a special place for you in my heart.”
He kissed her forehead. “Good night, sister.”
“Good night.” She patted his shoulder and followed Walter from the room.
Quinn heard his brother-in-law’s gruff tones. “Whatever was that all about?”
Margaret laughed again. “Heaven only knows. Quinn always had a wild imagination…”
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Their voices faded with the candles they carried and Quinn was left alone with the mirror.
Elaine placed the candlestick on the mantelpiece and found one sofa cushion that she could still use. She put it on the floor and sat, her legs straight out in front of her, crossed at the ankles.
The pleasure balls had threatened to slip from her a couple of times and she had soon realized how to tighten her muscles to keep them in place. After a few hours, her body was screaming for release.
The open windows had allowed the breeze to waft away most of the stench from upstairs and she took a deep breath.
The shadows deepened and the light of the moon became more visible as it touched the tips of the trees. The swaying branches made a delicate tracery on the walls, concealing the streaks and gouges left by the vandals.
She closed her eyes and concentrated as hard as she could on Quinn.
A faint sound came from the direction of the mirror and her eyes flew open. Vague shapes in the room on the other side grew visible as she watched, but Margaret’s house was in darkness like her own. A candle flame shed a pool of light close to the couch, its glow distorted by the cracks in the mirror. As she watched, a dark shadow moved across the beam of light and came closer to the glass.
Quinn!
She gasped aloud and her heart began to pound, sending a rhythmic tattoo to her head. Her mouth grew suddenly dry. She rose to her feet on shaky legs and took a step toward him, calling his name.
He picked up the candle from the side table and carried it with him until he was within two steps of the mirror. He raised the light, throwing the planes of his face into sharp relief. She craned forward to see him, thankful that he seemed unhurt, although the broken glass made his head shimmer, break and coalesce as if he were reflected in moving water.
If he was here, he must have transacted the business about Margaret’s money. The family had obviously gone to bed, so he wanted to return to her. Her heart sang.
Tentatively, she stretched her fingers toward one unbroken piece of glass. She felt the cold solidity for a second and then her hand passed through.
Quinn saw it and reached to touch the tips of his fingers to hers. For a moment they stood frozen, then he laced his fingers in hers and she felt the warmth and hardness of his palm against hers.
He must have placed a stool in readiness, for as his grip tightened he stepped up until he could kneel on the mantelpiece. She clung to him in desperation, not daring to let go. If her hand could pierce the glass barrier, why not his whole body? The thought 83
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flashed through her mind that if he could not come through, then she would hold on to him and join him in his world…
Very slowly she drew back her arm, pulling him toward her. For a heart-stopping second his hand hesitated when it met the glass.
“Quinn,” she said, “come to me. I’m here. I love you, I desire you more than anything else in the world. Come back to me.”
As if in response to her words, the glass grew soft and shimmered. First Quinn’s arm, then his shoulder, finally his whole body passed through the mirror.
He stood at last in the dim light of her living room, his hand still tightly clasped in hers. In his other hand he held the second candlestick.
He placed it on the mantel. “I thought I should bring it.” He gave her his lopsided grin. “Since we have no idea why this works.”
“You’re right. It’s pure magic.”
She looked at him, drinking in every cherished element of his face, his wide shoulders, his slim hips.
He grinned more widely, pushing back his lock of hair with his free hand. “Are you going to just look at me, woman?” He drew her closer until her body skimmed his. “Or are you going to let me fuck you right here on the rug?”
“Yes, please,” she whispered against his mouth. Her body melted against his and he fastened his lips to hers. The pressure on her mouth added to the pressure of the metal balls inside her and she lost total control. A mist cloaked her eyes and an urge she could not resist seized her brain. In a mindless frenzy she felt for the fastening of her jeans and shucked them from her legs. Quinn ripped her shirt from her shoulders and tore her bra from her, baring her breasts. His hands moved over her, teasing her nipples, caressing her ribs. She moaned, naked in his arms, feeling his probing tongue in her mouth, every part of her on fire. Her legs buckled and she began to sink to her knees, tearing her mouth from his.
She clasped his legs as he undid the buttons of his fly and tugged the trousers down to the ground. Her mouth touched his swollen cock and he braced his legs with a guttural sound in his throat, abandoning the tiny buttons of his shirt.
She felt his hands on the back of her head, guiding her greedy mouth to the tip of his stiffened penis. Delicately, she probed the weeping tip with her tongue, delving into the slit, tracing the circle of the head. He pressed harder and she took in the whole member until she tasted his semen at the back of her throat.
Then his hands were on her shoulders, steadying her
, pushing her down farther as he also sank to the floor. She twisted with him, holding him fast in her mouth, until he lay flat and she crouched on all fours between his legs.
Moisture streamed from her vagina and the pleasure balls slipped from her. She no longer cared. In a few minutes she would have Quinn in their place.
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She pleasured him for a few moments longer, then released his cock. “My turn,” she whispered.
She moved up his legs until she sat astride him, kneeling, poised over him with the entrance to her vagina brushing his penis in exquisite torture. He reached for her breasts and took the swollen globes in his hands, brushing his thumbs over the pebbled nipples. She gasped and sank down on him, letting him spear her so deep she felt the stab against the opening of her womb.
He drove into her, holding her down against him as she rode, driven by a primal, soundless beat.
The metal balls and her own building lust had made her vagina hot and wet, sensitive to the slightest touch. Quinn stretched her, filling her to capacity and her swollen clit rubbed against his pubic bone. She had no coherent thoughts, no purpose but to have him bring her to climax. She gazed down at him and smiled at the look of pleasure on his face. His lips curved in delight and he watched her through half-closed eyes, playing her like a fine-tuned musical instrument with his hands wandering over every inch of her.
Very soon—too soon—the wave built inside her with a sweet pain that made her cry out as it grew to crescendo. Her back arched and she flung back her head as the tremors began deep inside her, spreading outward like ripples of fire until they consumed her entirely.
When he saw and felt her orgasm, Quinn held her tight around her hips and gave a shout as his hot seed spilled inside her.
Elaine lay weak and satiated on his chest. Quinn stroked her back and kissed her hair. The moon had risen over the trees and cast a silvery light into the room. She felt Quinn turn his head, then sit up, shifting her weight from his side. He looked around the room.
“What in damnation happened here?”
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