Love Spell Ch. 02

And then they're there. Huge men eye us and then rush past.

A man approaches, a large pad in hand. Here we explain and lie and hope to God we don't get our asses thrown in jail forever after the fucking ordeal we've been through.

He has a mustache. Strange how after everything, that's the thing I focus on.

His voice is gruff, to-the-point. I'm somehow not shaking. I don't know how that's possible after everything I've witnessed.

Tom recites some made up story.

Yeah, this crazy man was stalking us. He killed our friends. We killed him in self-defense.

The detective scribbles like crazy, but his expression doesn't change. He's good.

One of the officers come out of the store and call his name. The detective promises to be right back.

Tom and I wait in silence, exhausted and numb. I notice the detective glance at us over his shoulder. He quickly looks away when he spots me watching him.

Eventually he comes back over to us, his pace slow and tired. His stare switches from my pale face to Tom's. He seems to be looking for something.

"Have either one of you indulged in alcohol or drugs tonight?"

We're both taken aback and answer "no". The detective obviously doesn't believe us.

"Any mental health history?"

The two of us shake our heads.

"This is serious, folks."

Yes, I want to say. Very serious. Some fucking ghost slaughtered my boyfriend and best friend.

"We're not on anything," Tom says.

The detective rubs the back of his neck. "So you thought this would be amusing?"

Something is definitely wrong. I swallow heavily. "What are you talking about?"

"Guys, we're very busy. This isn't funny, and honestly you're taking time away from people in need."

"We literally have no idea what you're talking about," Tom protests.

The detectives eyes are hard. "There's not one goddamn body in that store."

My heart stops. "W-what?"

"There is absolutely no shred of evidence that a 'massacre' occurred here. Not even one drop of blood."

I push past him, ignoring Tom's shouts. The cops scattered in front of the store don't even try to stop me.

My horrified eyes take in the scene. Or rather, the lack of a scene. The bloodied bodies are gone. Mina's store is perfect. Nothing is disturbed, or broken. My mouth opens in a silent scream and I collapse, seeing only black.

X

I come to a while later. Tom has a cool washcloth to my head.

"They think we're lying."

I'm lost.

Tom swipes some hair from my forehead. "They think it was a prank. We have to go in for questioning tomorrow, for fuck's sake. As if we needed any more trouble. I'm shocked they didn't arrest us."

"But--"

"I don't want to think about it anymore tonight. I'm just thankful we're alive. We'll worry about Ronan tomorrow."

"Do you think he's dead? Really dead?"

Tom doesn't have an answer.

I finally take in my surroundings. I'm in his bed. I don't know how we got here, if this is even real. The thought of that terrifies me and I sit straight up.

I'm frantic. "You're real, aren't you? Please." My hands desperately claw at him.

He grabs my wrists. "I'm real. Shh, Rose. I'm here."

"Please." I can't take my hands from him. "Don't leave me."

"I won't," he promises.

"Hold me."

"I am."

My lips find his. He's surprised and he tears his mouth away. "Rosemary, what the fuck are you doing?"

I burst into tears. His hands find their way to my back, awkwardly attempting to comfort me.

"I just need to feel you."

"Rosemary..."

"Please."

"This is so fucked up."

"I know. I don't care. Kiss me," I beg.

And he does. His mouth is hot and wet, and he kisses me with a hunger that rivals my own.

My hand snakes down into his jeans and he's hard. I jack him off, thumbing the precum at the tip. I want him in my mouth, but I'm more desperate to feel him inside me.

"Please fuck me, Tom."

He groans. Our clothes are ripped off. In an instant he's over me, pushing into my pussy. He's bigger than I imagined and it takes a few thrusts until he's fully buried inside me.

"Rose," he breathes. He nudges my breast with his nose, and licks the nipple.

My body arches up and my neck falls back. His mouth is there, sucking at the skin.

I'm delirious and starving. "God, please fuck me."

He hauls up and rests on his forearms, shoving in and out of me with an expression of tortured ecstasy on his face. Our eyes are locked. We catalogue each grimace, each moan that parts our damp lips. Sometimes we kiss and Tom slows down his hips to savor it.

Suddenly I'm going to come and I need him to come, too. I clutch his ass.

"I'm so close. I need you. Need your cum."

Tom's moans are barbaric, driving shudders up my spine.

Then he's coming, releasing a torrent of his sperm into my tightening pussy. I'm lost, sucking him in deeper with each pulse of my orgasm.

We disconnect. Tom plops beside me, sweaty and panting. He feels too far away and I'm petrified he'll somehow be sucked away from me. I move over and rest my head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

He kisses the top of my messy hair.

If nothing else is real, this is.

God help me, it has to be.