Dominated by the Ghost: An Alpha Ghost BBW Romance Read online

  “Right,” said Bruce, “because you know I can do it.”

  Something in his self-satisfied macho attitude irritated Jenny. She looked at the hall. It was a good ten yards long. Then she looked at Bruce. If he had been sober then maybe, just maybe. But now? Wasn't a chance.

  “All right,” said Jenny, “you're on.”

  Bruce pretended to spit on his hand and they shook on it. Then he went to the door and did a handstand.

  Uh oh, Jenny thought. He didn’t seem to have any trouble with balance.

  He wove a little as he went, but he walked on his hands the full length of the hall.

  “Damn it,” said Jenny and slapped her palm against her face.

  “Always a bit easier when I've had a little to drink,” said Bruce.

  Jenny laughed as he took her hand and led her up the stairs.

  Jenny had never done it like this before. The idea of doing a striptease before Tom would have been ridiculous, but here she was standing before Bruce as he sat on the bed, holding his bottle of wine. Jenny felt the shyness, the panic that grew inside her until she felt almost dizzy. She removed her blouse and placed it on the lamp, bathing her in a soft orange light. That was better, she thought, more forgiving.

  Jenny stood in front of him, her self-confidence growing until it bordered on the insolent. As she moved, she was astounded at the range of provocative gestures that she suddenly found herself capable of. Gestures that, previously, she could only have done knowingly and with a huge slice of irony, she now did slowly, teasingly, and she watched Bruce's eyes burn with interest.

  When she was done, Jenny stood there naked for a moment. Bruce was completely still, as if still mesmerized. She leaned toward him and kissed him hungrily. She placed greedy kisses on his chin, neck and down onto his chest. She could hear his breathing, deep and low. Easily he gripped her waist and raised her up above him so he could kiss her breasts. He found her nipples and worked his tongue back and forth until both became hard. He settled her down onto his lap. She felt the hardness of him beneath her and gasped.

  Jenny grabbed his shoulders and moaned while he pleasured her breasts until she felt she would die from the overwhelming sensations. Finally, she released herself from his grasp and returned to kissing his chest, marveling at the muscles working beneath. Jenny went lower, and he moaned with a mixture of pleasure and desire as if Jenny were pulling all of the pain and frustration from his body. At the same time, Jenny let out a soothing sound that resembled a contented purring.

  Bruce gripped her waist. She reached around his back, her nails taking his flesh. Their bodies burned together, turning the cool English night into the fevered heat of the jungle.

  As she bent her body over him, Jenny could feel the sweat running down his back and the dampness trickling from her thighs.

  He lifted her, holding her so that all her weight was taken by his arms. She remained, teetering on the edge, on the brink of forever. Their eyes were locked together, contemplating the pact they had made. Then she moved down slowly on to him until he was inside her, deeply sheathed. They were very still, gasping at breaths, until, finally, their bodies began to move of their own volition.

  The manly heat of him nearly drove her to the edge. Jenny had to concentrate her mind, lest she simply collapse in pleasure and wild laughter. Instead, she managed to think only of him, and focus her mind and body on him and what he needed her to do. She looked for that certain touch or movement or caress that would please him the most. Soon she became lost in that task of creating pleasure until she was only being pleasure, and pleasure itself united them.

  Bruce held her hips and tensed up towards her, his back and legs rising off the bed like a wave. She rode it, catching her breath, trying to say his name. They were searching, now, for the apex of their meeting and at the point, when it came, she could no longer say anything. Not only was his name gone, her own name own name was also lost. There was no division between them.

  They each disintegrated with pleasure. They held still, caught in the moment, as they had been when they came in, holding each other’s eyes in a gaze that spoke worlds. Then he let himself fall back on the bed and she collapsed easily on top of him.

  In the gray, early dawn, she felt Bruce leave her. He kissed her on the shoulder and slipped quietly out the door.

  Jenny dozed pleasurably in the afterglow of their lovemaking. She drifted in and out of sleep as dawn crept through the skylight and a parallelogram of light shifted across her bed and alighted on her face.

  Jenny woke, rose from bed, and had a shower.

  She went downstairs, deciding to take advantage of her early start and have breakfast before the other guests were up. To her immense surprise, Ana was already there, eating breakfast and chatting to Razvan.

  Ana glanced at her and carried on her conversation, which Jenny judged was about literature. It had been a long time since she had heard her daughter talk about her favorite subject.

  Razvan leaned languidly against the doorway to the kitchen. He wore his black turtleneck again and it made him look even more languorous than usual. One of his long-fingered hands gently held his temple as he leaned his head to one side. He listened to Ana intently, though at one stage Jenny felt him glance at her and there was the tiniest flash of recognition from those dark eyes.

  “Razvan made me a special vegetarian breakfast,” said Ana. “You should try it.”

  “What is it?”

  “Poached eggs on a bed of spinach and tomatoes,” said Razvan. “With a few of my own little extra ingredients thrown in,” he smiled, “for pizazz.”

  “Sounds very healthy,” said Jenny.

  “Yes, you are right,” said Razvan, at his haughty best. “It will give you stamina,” he smiled again, this time the teeth showing.

  Jenny could feel herself blushing, and prayed that Ana wouldn’t notice.

  “Stamina for all your exertions,” he added, then disappeared back into the kitchen.

  “What were you talking about?” asked Jenny, trying to sound as light as possible. She pressed her napkin to her face, hoping to hide her flush at least a little bit.

  “Books,” said Ana. “Razvan is very interested in English Literature. It’s why he came here.”

  “Not to claim benefits then,” said Jenny, pouring herself some of the coffee from the pot on the table.

  Ana ignored her. “He even knows the writer Paul Magrs.”

  “That's more than I know,” said Jenny.

  Ana sighed. “That's because you only read sappy romances and Fifty Shades of Grey. Magrs writes a kind of horror. But good horror. Not trashy stuff. Anyway, it’s all set in Whitby. There's a pair of detectives solving these strange, horrible crimes. You should read it.”

  “That type of thing just keeps me awake at night,” said Jenny, stifling a yawn.

  “Razvan was saying how the books draw on the strange atmosphere in Whitby.”

  “The strange atmosphere?” asked Jenny.

  “Razvan says that there is something very strange right at the heart of Whitby. Haven't you noticed it, too?”

  “I'm not sure,” said Jenny, looking at her daughter. She was wondering how Ana noticed anything at all, given that she was so attached to her cell phone.

  “Razvan says there may be something in the stones or the landscape that works on our imaginations.”

  Razvan says, Razvan says, thought Jenny.

  “It has an effect on all the inhabitants, and on the visitors too. It has an effect, I'm sure of it.” Ana scooped up the last of her poached egg.

  “I suppose every place has a special atmosphere,” said Jenny.

  Razvan came and brought her breakfast. “Looks and smells wonderful,” she said.

  “It will taste just as good,” said Razvan, immodestly. He then presented Ana with a book. “Here is the novel. At the back of the book is a map and I have marked on all the places with supernatural significance.” He beamed at her.

  “Thank y
ou,” she said. “That's great.” She turned Jenny. “Mum, I'm going to check out these places before they get busy with tourists. Is that okay?”

  “I suppose,” said Jenny.

  “I'll take my phone,” said Ana.

  Before Ana had finished her breakfast, the dining room had filled up with guests. Razvan was back in the kitchen and Bruce was down and taking orders. He edged between the tables, checking in with everyone to make sure they were starting the day happily. As he moved past Jenny, he gave her shoulder a little squeeze.

  “Still in bed?” he asked nodding to the empty chair.

  “Out already,” said Jenny.

  “Very good,” said Bruce. “Want to meet for coffee by the harbor when I'm done here? About half past ten?”

  Jenny said she would love to.

  Because she had time before meeting Bruce, Jenny walked up the hill to the cliffs overlooking the sea. She delighted in the morning breeze caressing her face. It blew away the previous night to such an extent that she began to wonder if it had all really happened. The second time in a matter of days. It was incredible. It was ridiculous. But was it good? It was exciting, that was for sure. Where it left her, she couldn't really say.

  She walked back to the town till she was overlooking the river. Somewhere up there, near the ruined Abbey, she imagined Ana would be. Jenny wanted to phone her to check she was okay, but knew it was better not to. Ana had a project, something that took her away from the distractions of her phone and television. She was happy for the first time for a long while, and Jenny didn’t want to interrupt that.

  Jenny walked on back through the town and her thoughts turned to Razvan and what a very strange creature he was. Strange, but was he harmful? Jenny's instinct told her he was not. She had never met a character more at home in his own strangeness.

  Despite her meandering walk, Jenny arrived at the café before Bruce. It was warm enough to sit outside and she found a table by the harbor wall. Beneath her, a fishing boat had just returned and the morning’s catch was being lifted in bright plastic boxes. Interested seagulls sat on the wall and watched.

  As she sat outside the café, Jenny's thoughts inevitably turned to Bruce and her feelings for him. Last night she had lusted after him as she had lusted after no man since . . . well, since a few days previous.

  Jenny laughed at herself. The night with Razvan had been a night of wildness. A night when she was drunk on lust. A night she could barely believe happened, and one that left her howling at the moon.

  Surely, the night she had enjoyed with Bruce was a different order of things. Jenny looked down at her hands. That was what she wanted, wasn't it? But was it true?

  How could she want two different things at the exact same time? It made her greedy. She couldn’t allow it.

  But she didn’t think she could be happy any other way. It was a good thing this vacation would be over soon.

  She looked up to see Bruce walking down the road toward her. She smiled to see him in the same black t-shirt that he seemed to have a hundred of. That upright, military march, with his chest out like a barrel. She laughed as she watched him with his solid muscular walk. He saw her and waved, breaking out into that wide, infectious grin. Jenny knew that grin was mirrored on her own face. She laughed to herself and sent Ana a text to say where they were.

  Bruce bought the coffees to the table.

  “Well,” he said, “this is nice.”

  Jenny smiled. “It's lovely,” she said. “It's turned out to be quite a holiday. Definitely the break we were looking for. It's taken our mind off things.”

  “Ana looks better.”

  “She does,” Jenny agreed. “It's almost a shame we have to leave tomorrow.”

  “Yes,” said Bruce. “That is a shame.”

  Jenny sipped her coffee and when she put it down Bruce laid his hand over hers.

  “I've been thinking about that,” he said. “I've been thinking you might like to extend your stay a little.”

  “Oh, no,” said Jenny. “We couldn't.”

  “Well,” said Bruce, “you probably could. Those rooms are vacant. It’s getting to the end of the season. I'm not expecting anyone to need them now.”

  “That's really nice of you, Bruce,” said Jenny. “But, you know, we've budgeted for this holiday and now it's coming to an end and it's time to go.”

  “You don't have to pay anything more. This is not me, the guest house owner, speaking now. I'm asking you to stay because I want you to.”

  “That's just going to be hassle for you,” said Jenny. “Why would you want that?”

  “Why?” Bruce laughed. “Why do you think? Because I like you. You are very attractive and great company.” And then he leaned over the table. “Plus, we just had the most amazing sex ever and I think we owe it to each other to repeat the experience as often as we can before our bodies give out on us.”

  Jenny felt herself blush. “Bruce, it's been a great holiday. But a holiday thing is a holiday thing and I'm old enough to know that people can get hurt trying to make it into something it's not.”

  Bruce looked downcast. “It might be a holiday fling for you, but that's not how I think of it.”

  Jenny felt the familiar guilt build inside her. She’d slept with Bruce, and she’d slept with Razvan. “Bruce…I have to tell you…”

  He held up a hand. “I think I can guess.”

  “I don’t think you can,” said Jenny.

  “You and Razvan had sex,” he said matter-of-factly. “Is that what you wanted to tell me?”

  She sat back, shocked. “How did you…”

  “He didn’t tell me, if that’s what you’re asking. I just had a sense about it, that’s all.” He sipped his coffee. “Razvan and I both enjoy your company. It would be great to have you here. I know you love the place.”

  “I love the place. But come on, Bruce. We've only just met. I'm in a situation right now. Let's not get carried away,” Jenny said, but even as she said it, she couldn't help feeling excited. Maybe, just maybe, it could all be possible. But could he really be as cavalier about her one-night-stand with Razvan as he seemed?

  Bruce smiled his disarming smile. “What you say is all very sensible. But it's a possibility, that's all I'm saying. You might want to consider it, before passing it up.”

  Jenny nodded. Over the harbor wall, the fish had been unloaded and the boat was empty. The poor seagulls flapped around, but found nothing to scavenge. The fishermen had packed up and gone home and would not be back until the next day.

  “Maybe,” she said. “Maybe we could stay a few more days and see how it goes. But it all depends on Ana. It depends on how she feels. She probably wants to get back to her friends. If she doesn't want to stay, that's it. There's no point trying to persuade her.”

  “You can ask her now,” said Bruce, nodding towards the bridge. “Isn't that her on her way?”

  “How was your morning?” Jenny asked when Ana reached them.

  “Good,” she said, clambering onto a stool. “It was very interesting. There's a lot to see here for such a small town.”

  Jenny noticed that she had even caught the sun but decided against saying anything. “I was thinking,” she said, “about staying a little longer. Just a few more days.”

  “Sure,” said Ana. “Could I have a coffee?”

  *

  When they walked back up to the guest house, Jenny was full of turmoil. She hadn’t expected Ana to want to stay. Ana had been her excuse, so that Jenny could escape any potential conflict emerging from this really great, but really weird love triangle that she’d unwittingly created. She knew it was selfish, but she wanted them both.

  She shook her head, avoiding Bruce’s questioning gaze. She was a modern woman, yes, but she was just coming out of a divorce. To take on two lovers at once—it seemed a bit excessive.

  When she and Ana had said farewell to Bruce at the bottom of the stairs, Ana followed Jenny into her room. “So what’s going on?” said An
a.

  “What do you mean?” asked Jenny, surprised.

  “I mean, you’re obviously very happy with Bruce, but you’re acting like you feel guilty about something.”

  “I’m just—I thought you weren’t paying attention!” said Jenny. Her face felt hot, a dead giveaway.

  “Just because I’m looking at my phone doesn’t mean I can’t see whatever else is going on around me. So are you worried about Bruce because you hooked up with Razvan, or what?”

  “You’re not supposed to know that!”

  “I know a lot of things I’m not supposed to know,” Ana said. “Like Dad’s a complete prick but you’re hiding it from me because you don’t want me to feel as abandoned as you felt. I don’t, by the way.”

  “What—Ana! I’m so sorry!”

  “Don’t be,” she said. “Nobody’s judging you except for you, Mum. If both Razvan and Bruce want to be with you, I say you should go for it.”

  “But—but I—this is just unheard of,” Jenny spluttered. “I can’t have two men in my life. I could barely handle one.”

  “One of my favorite steampunk authors wrote this: ‘We have to seek strange and fascinating new measures in order to achieve strange and fascinating results.’ I saw what Dad did to you, Mum. There was nothing strange and fascinating about him. Our life with him was cold and sad. Wouldn’t you rather have a strange and fascinating life?”

  Jenny reached for Ana and pulled her into a hug. “Ana, dear, you are the smartest person I know.”

  She kissed her daughter’s head and released her.

  “I know,” said Ana. “Now go find your strange and fascinating men.”

  *

  Jenny paced outside the downstairs hall where Bruce’s and Razvan’s rooms were located. When she’d left Ana behind in her own room, she’d felt full of resolve and confidence. It had felt like the most natural thing in the world. Build a life for herself, with strange and fascinating men.

  But she didn’t even know how they felt about her! Bruce, she knew, wanted her to stay here in Whitby, but she didn’t know if Bruce would be enough. He was the anchor, and Razvan was the wildness. She needed them both.