The Haunting of Twisted Oaks Inn (#7)

[Adelina]

Ivy blinked sleepily as the earliest morning light filtered into her bedroom through the sheer white drapes covering her windows. Mornings were precious to Ivy; the early hours comprised her favorite time of day. She loved to walk along the beach, listen to the gentle lapping of the waves at the sand, and lose herself in the tranquil absence of daily bustle before jumping into whatever had to be done on a given day.

Ivy rolled over onto her other side, momentarily startled at the form of Hurley snoozing away beside her. She smiled broadly as she peered at his handsome countenance, recalling the events of the evening before. Gently, careful not to wake him, she shifted closer to his warm body. She nestled against him as her mind drifted and replayed the evening for her as vividly as though she were watching a rented movie….

... sitting on the beach, she watched the sun descend toward the horizon, feeling a tingle in her belly when Hurley’s fingers entwined with hers. Nervous anticipation flooded her body. When at last the sun had dipped below the edge of the water, he stood, looked down at her, and helped her to her feet.

... leading her toward the bed, he kept a firm grip on her hand as he sat at the edge and arranged himself appropriately. The simple motion of him invitingly patting his left thigh sent a jolt of excitement through her loins. She allowed herself to be coaxed over the waiting thigh.

…squirming restlessly, she emitted soft little oo’s and oh’s as his hand played sharply through her crinkled brown skirt. She rested her torso on the surface of the bed, comfortable and content.

…brimming with trepidation, she felt her face flush as her skirt was lifted and draped over her back. He resumed his ministrations, making her wince at the increased sensation she felt now that the first layer of protection was out of the way. Never would she have guessed it would make such a difference.

…blushing deeply, she felt his fingers tug at the waistband of her pink cotton briefs, methodically working them downward over her hips until they came to rest just above her knees. The discomfort she felt as he continued playing a merry rhythm on her posterior soon turned to real pain, and she could keep neither still nor silent. He did not seem to mind. She heard his gentle voice offer soothing words of reassurance even as he increased his pace, making her writhe.

…kneeling obediently, she leaned forward and gripped the headboard of her bed as his fingers ran lightly over her naked body. She sighed with delight as his fingers found their mark, and without thought, she parted her thighs to let him in. His other hand delivered mild smacks to her already sore bottom, and the combination of teasing in front and stinging behind was exhilarating.

…collapsing onto the sheets in exhausted bliss, she snuggled up to him, drifting off into a deep and satisfied slumber.

With some reluctance, Ivy directed her thoughts back to the present. It was time to get up. She took a last look at the sleeping Hurley, kissed him lightly on his forehead, and forced herself out of bed. Instinctively, her hands reached behind to rub the sore spots that remained from their play the night before. Her curiosity led her to the full-length mirror on the closet door, where she turned and examined the small discolorations that dotted her cheeks here and there. As she traced them delicately with her fingers, she felt a surge of warm affection for Hurley, and the feeling lingered, accompanying her as she went about her morning routine, preparing for a day’s work at the Inn.

***
Ivy gave the plunger another thrust, determined not to incur the expense of calling a plumber. There was nothing like a toilet clog to burst Ivy’s dreamy bubble. If only that ghost could see her now. How proud he would be, seeing the way she cared for his rickety old house. With a grimace and a grunt, Ivy forcefully stabbed at the offending fixture, finally managing to win the battle.

“Business as usual,” thought Ivy, stepping out to the hallway and locking the door behind her. She returned the plunger to its resting place in the utility closet, washed her hands, and headed downstairs to grab some lunch. She wished Hurley could be there to join her, but of course, he had to go to work. Dinner for one, it would have to be.

Ivy brought her loaded tray outside, setting it atop a convenient tree stump and carefully seated herself on the stone bench beside it. She’d kept herself busy through the morning and had managed quite well to avoid sitting, but she thought she’d look pretty silly eating lunch on her feet. Actually, it wasn’t so bad. Putting pressure on the sore spots actually seemed to ease the discomfort a bit.

A pair of guests wandered along the garden path toward her and waved in friendly greeting. Ivy grinned pleasantly and waved back, unable to say anything due to her mouthful of sandwich. Just as well. Ivy didn’t much feel like making small talk today. She preferred to be alone with her thoughts, pondering the strange and wonderful situation in which she’d found herself. She felt giddy, like a teenager experiencing her first kiss. It seemed as though Hurley’s dark good looks and confidence had cast a spell on her, for she could think of little else as she savored her food to the last bite.

Gathering all the remnants of her lunch onto the tray, Ivy glanced idly at the big old house. She’d always felt attracted to the place, but today, it seemed to look even more inviting, as if beckoning her inside. Her gaze passed over the exterior, with its shingled siding and dormers and sweeping balconies, coming to rest at the gabled attic window. Her vision focused, sending a jab of alert through her veins.

Framed within the window, a familiar figure stood motionless, staring back.