Possessed by a Stranger (16 page)

She had seen this view before. It felt so
familiar. Oh shit, she was staring into one of Louise’s paintings.
She squinted looking for the lay of the land. Vegetation had over a
hundred years to camouflage the area but it was there. This view
was her favorite painting. Louise had painted this view in autumn.
It embraced you with sadness as if the trees wept the leaves from
the stark limbs.

Not hearing movement, Garret went to check on
Hannah. He found her standing in front of one of the windows. Lost
in her thoughts, she hadn’t noticed his approach. Oh, how he wanted
that woman. No, he wanted sex after months of a consuming work
load. She was just conveniently here.

“Are you going to help or just stand there
staring out the window?” She jumped at the sound of his voice. He
expected her to yell at him. Instead, when she turned her face
beamed with a smile.

“This view is one of the paintings. The trees
have grown but it’s the same shape of the landscape. You can barely
see the church steeple now, but it’s in the painting.” Hannah made
a path to look out another window.

He followed after glancing out the window.
Hannah’s ass was a much better view as she climbed over all the
discarded crap stored up here. If the views distracted her from
being pissed at him then he had just as well pretend to be
interested. Whether or not this was the painting he didn’t know or
care. He brought the paintings to Pops but he hadn’t really looked
at them.

“This view is winter. The single set of foot
prints in the snow. They disappear over that hill. I wonder if your
grandfather recognized the location.”

God, she was beautiful even in this low
light. Her face beamed from her discovery and her voice rang with
excitement.

“Why would she paint the surrounding
landscapes? Why didn’t anyone recognize them?” The questions were a
ploy to watch her lips move when she answered. Her luscious lips
that he would soon taste, feel, and loose himself consuming.

“No one around here even saw the paintings.
She sold the pictures before she told anyone what they meant. The
view is from a higher elevation so you would need to see it from up
here. They must have spent a lot of time up here for her to paint
it from memory.”

“That’s good news. It’s a sign you haven’t
completely fulfilled the curse. Out of respect for my forefathers I
will sacrifice my body and be your boy-toy to free you of your
obligations.” She stopped her progression, to yet another view, to
shoot him a disapproving glare.

This little excavation through the stacks of
boxes needed to end quickly. His cutesy retorts were lowering her
defenses. Her mind was set. She wasn’t going to like him no matter
what. “Do you have your cell phone on you? Take pictures from all
the windows so we can compare them to the paintings.”

She sounded so cute barking out orders. “Yes
Ma’am. Is there anything else I can do for you? My new goal in life
is to set you free of the curse perpetrated on your family by mine.
Just say the word and I’ll strip and give you whatever you want or
need.” He stood at attention and saluted. He received a smile for
his antics.

Her obsession with the paintings had
outweighed her distrust of Garret. Her defenses were falling with
every second she spent in this frigging attic. His soldier stance
accentuated every sexy ounce of his manliness. She imagined him in
uniform, no fatigues. Yes, he was definitely a fatigues man, hands
on, ready for action. “Sorry…Would you please take pictures so we
can show Pops?” She dipped her words in a syrupy sweetness
continuing her search for the elusive painting before she put her
hands all over him.

Garret obliged her request. Taking the last
shot out the window he turned and stumped his toe on a mother
fucking chair leg. He hopped on one foot cursing under his breath.
His hand reached to steady himself knocking over a box. Shit,
behind the box was the portrait. The pain in his toe was forgotten
as he moved more boxes to unearth the portrait. He laughed out
loud. This expedition was well worth his broken little toe.

“Hannah, I found the portrait. You’ve got to
see this.” Her expression when she saw it was what he wanted to
see. Her flashlight led her to where he stood. He pointed his light
on her face. Her widened eyes full of shock and disbelief fixated
on the illumination of her flashlight.

She froze, overwhelmed in a shockwave of
surprise. Her gaze encompassed the full effect of the portrait. Her
lips parted, pursed, relaxed as her brain tried to form words that
had vacated her vocabulary.

“Oh …” was the only syllable she found
available. The four by three foot painting Garret held in one hand
was remarkably life-like. She half-way expected the full figured
images to speak or move. Louise and Grant stood pressed together
from the waist down. Louise’s head was thrown back and her curls
hung feely to the curvature of her hips. The flickering light
tricked you into seeing the curls bounce. Louise’s fingers, bent
with whitened knuckles, dug into Grant’s tightened bicep. Grant
gazed at her with his hand under her knee, lifted to his waist. His
arm was wrapped around her arched back with his hand tightly
grasping her waist. The muscle tension and the indented flesh from
each other’s touch were perfectly obvious. Their skin glistened,
moistened with a heated shower of perspiration

A swelling of pride filled her to bursting
proportions gazing upon a masterpiece of her great grandmother’s
talent. A part of her wanted to share the magnificent piece of
artwork with the world. It was most definitely a show stopper.
Another part of her, and she knew without a doubt the part that was
going to win, wanted to hide the painting in a never to be found
secret location.

Her great grandmother had painted a sensual
depiction of herself and Grant having sex. They were both naked,
granted tastefully portrayed, but still naked. Thanks to Louise’s
extraordinary talent, it was evident they were in the grip of a
passionate conclusion. Unfortunately, and extremely disturbingly,
Louise Abernathy and Grant Presley were absolutely identical to
Hannah and Garret

She inhaled sharply. Her eyes widened
overfilled with shock. He expected her to crumble to the floor in a
dead faint, until a scarlet glow stained her cheeks quickly
spreading over her skin. Her embarrassment was too intense to pass
up teasing her.

“Is that all you can say? Remind you of
anyone?”

A nervous giggle tickled her throat. She was
fixated on the image unable to move her gaze. “Remind me to thank
your family for not displaying this on the Presley wall of
pride.”

Garret boisterously laughed knowing when his
mother saw this painting the roof of the house would be blown away.
But he wasn’t about to share that fact with Hannah.

“Damn even the tits are the same.”

Her shoulders drooped as she glared her
disapproval. “There’s no way you can remember what my tits looked
like. Look at the veins on his neck… the glaze in his eyes and tell
me what’s happening in that picture. I swear… I feel naked just
looking at it. I can’t face your family. Have they all seen
this?”

She must only hand talk when she was overly
emotional. Her hands were flying in all directions. He kept
expecting her to knock herself out with the flashlight.

“I don’t know but they will when I bring it
downstairs. They all know its Louise and not you. You’ve got to
admit you had one hot great grandma.”

“But everyone is going to wonder if I really
look like that.” Both her hands pointed at the portrait,
repeatedly.

Hannah knew Louise couldn’t have painted a
more accurate image of her if she had posed for it in person. Her
body responded to the image ignoring the horrific embarrassment.
She felt the painting in a disturbingly arousing wave.

“Don’t worry, I’ll tell them you do. How does
this feel?” Garret trickled his fingers over the naked image of
Louise. She rolled her eyes shaking her head. A hint of a grin
tugged at the corner of her mouth.

She cocked her hand on her waist. “And how
would you explain how you know I look like that? You do realize
you’re on there too.” Why wasn’t he as embarrassed as her?

He leaned his head to take another look at
the portrait. “I look damn good. All the time I spent at the gym
has paid off. What are you willing to do to get this picture? I
could hang it in my office. Oh wait, I could donate it to a museum.
I know an Irish bar that would love to display this over the bar.
Think of the pride your friends would feel, knowing the great
granddaughter of a famous artist.”

Wrestling with her conviction to preserve the
past, Hannah knew in her soul she would burn that painting before
it hung anywhere in public view.

“Would you quit molesting the picture? That’s
my great grandmother.” His playfulness bombarded her defenses. Her
handsome stranger had returned with a sense of humor to boot.
Resisting that man wasn’t in the cards for her. Whatever hold he
had on her was knotted tightly and quite possibly attached to her
heart. Allowing her heart to get involved would be a fatal mistake
on her part. She knew it in her soul but she assured herself she
could and would control her emotions. It was her body that ran
amuck whenever she saw or even thought about him.

Leaning the picture on the nearest stack of
boxes, Garret walked to stand beside Hannah. He rested his arm
around her shoulder.

“That painting is bringing back some
memories.” She laughed softly shaking her head. They both stared at
the painting. “How does it feel to be a porn star?”

Boy had it ever brought back memories. Hannah
tore her gaze from the painting to look at Garret. His eyes danced
amusingly. A live version of the erotic man in the portrait stood
beside her, touching her.

“Technically, I think it would be considered
soft porn. But we will refer to it as art. I’m stunned. I know
that’s not us but…” At least, his relentless teasing took the edge
off her mortified embarrassment.

“It’s like looking in a mirror, isn’t it?”
His voice softened hinting of his appreciation of the magnificent
piece of artwork. All his teasing aside, that portrait held a
private memory he would never share with the outside world. The
uncanny resemblance made the portrait personal … private.

“Yet, I can’t help feeling pride in her
talent. It’s so realistic and their eyes portray their emotions.
You can feel what they are feeling …or doing…just by looking at the
painting.” Damn it, her body wanted desperately to feel what they
were doing. That one night wasn’t able to satisfy her forever.

Stepping in front of her he blocked her view
of the painting. He tilted her head with both hands gently grazing
her face. “I’ll make sure you get the painting.”

Her eyes welcomed him. He had to taste her
inviting lips. His lips fell eagerly on hers. Her supple lips
cautiously parted. Heat stirred in his groin with the sweetness of
her mouth titillating his palate. Her tender body surrendered into
his. Her protective forearms planted on his chest stretched to wrap
around his neck. Gently, gathering her in his arms their bodies
touched, awakening to a delicious memory. Damn, she felt better
than he remembered.

His warm breath, his moist lips, and the
gentleness of his touch, swept her into his arms. Any reservations
she had melted away as his softly demanding kiss ignited a raging
yearning inside her. It felt so natural to be in his arms, like she
belonged there.

He raised his lips from hers. Their foreheads
touched. His body ached for this woman and she was finally in his
arms. His hands pressed down her back to her firm hips. She
slithered against him following the path of his hands.

“We should have done this sooner. You made me
work too hard little lady. How are you going to make it up to
me?”

She breathed in his breath. Her body was
inundated with desires feeling the heat of his. “I thought you
would have found me before now… as desperate as you were to have
the painting.”

He whispered into her mouth. “I was swamped
at work but I had eyes on you. That is until you disappeared. I
would have found you next week when you made your strawberry
delivery.”

She softly laughed. “Oh, you met Sadie.
Delightful isn’t she? Were you looking for me or the
paintings?”

“Both.” He brushed his lips over hers. “You
shouldn’t have left the hotel in the middle of the night.”

She was helplessly locked in his mesmerizing
gaze. “It was morning. I thought you would be relieved.” He grinned
with the same hungry gleam in his eyes she had seen the first night
they met. She now knew he wanted her with the same urgency she
wanted him.

“I wanted to be relieved…again… but you
weren’t there.”

There wasn’t a chance she could resist him
even if she wanted too, and she didn’t. She dreamed about being
back in his arms. Now, here she was back in his arms. The where and
why were irrelevant with only now as an important issue. Her body
cried out to feel the intimacy he would provide.

“I’m here now.”

Yes she was, as his dick had already heatedly
pointed out. He feasted on her mouth moving to the smooth line of
her neck. He knew from her soft moan and the roll of her back, her
neck was a panty wetter. Her dress unzipped easily exposing the
curvature of her back to his touch. Her velvety soft skin trembled
under his fingertips. He had to have her. His hands filled with her
round firm hips pulling her into him. His eyes drank thirstily from
the desire in hers.

“If I clear off that table are you going to
disappear again?”

He could throw her on the filthy floor if he
wanted as long as he wanted her. “How about if I help?”

He breathed deeply sucking in enough control
to release his hold. With a swipe of his arm the few small boxes on
the table were cleared. He pulled off his shirt using it as a dust
rag on the table.