Their Virgin Secretary (Masters of Ménage #6)(106)

Eric laughed indulgently. "Then I guess we're going into the ghost hunting business, baby."

She bit her bottom lip, looking almost apologetic. "Is it wrong that I'm a little excited?"

Eric shrugged. "I'm getting used to having my ass patted." His face went blank. "Yeah, there it went again."

"I think that particular ghost is harmless, babe. Come on. You have to see what we found out." She gave them a brilliant smile and ran back toward the living room.

No doubt about it. She was the one. He just wasn't good enough for her.

When should he pack up and leave? Tonight? Tomorrow? Maybe she'd grant him one last night.

Eric put a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. "Come on. Let's go and try to figure this out. Ghost or no ghost, I think an actual person left the message on Belle's bedroom wall right after we arrived. I would feel better if we found out who wants her gone from here. Maybe we should research the house and see if we can find out if any of our suspects have hidden attachments to the place."

"Eric, there's an app!" Belle yelled.

Kell stared, astounded. Eric's smile could only be described as joyful. "Man, ghost or not, I'm just happy to see her smile."

He walked away, joining Tate and Belle.

For a deathly quiet moment, Kellan stared at the place where his friends and his love had been before they'd left him behind.

His time was running out.

His neck jerked again, this time stronger than the last. It felt like someone had just roughly smacked him upside the head. "Goddamn it."

He really needed to get that looked at.



* * * *



Tate stretched as he closed the laptop and glanced at the clock. It was after two in the morning, but he'd found an enormous amount of information on the house he now lived in-and possibly shared with a bunch of creepy shit and one slightly sexually forward ghost grandma. Was he really thinking about ghosts? And was he really thinking about bringing some psychic in to do a house cleansing? All the sites he'd read had suggested he should, though some of the same sites also told him what to do in case of a Bigfoot attack. 

Where was he going to find the psychic equivalent of a Swiffer?

"Hey, why don't you come to bed?" Belle stood in the doorway. She and Eric and Kellan had gone upstairs an hour before, but he'd stayed behind, his brain running too fast to sleep.

She looked gorgeous standing there with her hair mussed and a sleepy expression on her face. Clearly, she'd been tossed a time or two, and his dick got hard, despite his weariness. It was never tired around Belle.

"I'll be up in a minute. I just want to make some notes for when I head over to the city records building tomorrow." He'd discovered some very interesting facts about the house, including several rumors that the girls who committed suicide had actually been killed by their father. The incident had happened back in the fifties, before Belle's grandmother had bought the place. In fact, after the father of the dead young women had passed on himself, two other people had bought the house. Both had sold it again within a year. Belle's grandmother had paid far below market value for the house. That explained how she'd managed to afford it. But Tate felt sure he was missing more, something that explained who wanted Belle gone from here now. He needed to delve into city records to see if he could find any clues.

He also needed a little space. He'd gotten close to her again tonight and not in a physical way. Over the last several days, he'd managed to put distance between them. She wanted him in bed. He wanted her, too. He could handle that. He could fuck her every night and do his job in the morning, putting her out of his head until it was time to fuck her again.

When she was safe, he would walk away and sink himself into building the firm. He would keep all of his relationships purely physical. Eric could date, and if the lady felt adventurous, Tate could join them for sex. At least that had been the plan he'd been brewing for days. Hearing her scream tonight, holding her and researching crazy shit with her-yeah, that had screwed with his perfectly good strategy.

She moved in behind him, cupping his shoulders in her gentle hands. "I'm having a hard time sleeping without you. I've gotten used to having someone on both sides of me."

"Well, maybe you can get a body pillow." He hated the fact that he sounded like a sulking kid, but he hurt inside in a way he hadn't for a very long time. Maybe when she saw how childish he could be she would kick him to the curb and put him out of his misery. Staying here with her was like living in purgatory.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, laying a kiss on his cheek. "A body pillow wouldn't be as warm as you. Nor would it be as sweet or funny or perfect. Come upstairs with me. I hate the thought of you down here alone."