The Ghost of The Lightner Museum

Chapter Fourteen

I was sleeping in the softest of blankets. Warmth surrounded me in hazy, silken serenity. I hummed happily just as I turned and noticed Aaron laying next to me beneath the blankets.

His bare chest was darkly tanned and his tawny brown hair scattered around his face. I smiled at him. He smiled back before cupping my chin and easing forward to press his lips against mine. I moaned into the kiss, at the feel of his sweet tongue interlocking with mine.

His hands caressed my body, causing me to smile even more and feel suddenly extremely damp between my legs. I breathed out his name with pleasure coating my voice.

He smiled and murmured back between languid kisses,

"Miss Charlotte....MISS CHARLOTTE!"

My eyes bolted open and I lunged up with a shriek.

"Oh good god!" Aaron yelled from somewhere suddenly far away from me, "Put a damn towel on!"

I jerked my head around to realize I was standing inside an old porcelain clawfoot tub in the middle of his kitchen. Stark naked.

I looked up at Aaron presently shielding his eyes while shoving a towel in my direction from the living room.

It was all a dream?...oh man...

My blond locks were soaking wet, falling down past my belly button and I immediately crossed my arms over my chest in embaressment, before stepping out of the tub and hastily dashing forward to yank the towel out of his hands.

Wrapping it around myself, I said,

"Coast is clear, sorry."

He lowered his hand and glanced at me in annoyance before he blinked and did a double take. His lips slightly parted at the same time his dark brown eyes swept down my toned frame.

My heart instantly did a somersault. I cast him a coy look, staring at him through my lashes as I lowered the towel slightly until the tips of my nipples were not quite exposed.

"What's wrong, Aaron?" I asked softly, loving the effect I was having on him.

To my dismay, the sound of my voice seemed to snap him out of his trance. He hissed a curse beneath his breath and immediately turned, walking away. Grabbing his hat and coat off the coat rack beside the front door, he put them on and quickly left without looking back. The door slammed behind him in his wake, making me jolt in alarm.

What was his problem?!

Ignoring his strange behavior and the horrid rejection he consistently delivered, I decided to focus on my current surroundings instead. After all, standing in the middle of a living room with only a thin towel wrapped around me was most definitely not ideal.

The sun had already set in the sky as the first speckles of stars glistened incandescently above the warm summer heat of St. Augustine. Sporadic clouds still hovered slowly by, as the telltale signs of a light showering rain became apparent.

I sat at Aaron's desk dressed comfortably in the gown he had given me before, watching the darkened twilight from the dirty window. The street lamps glowed faintly through the reflection of the paned glass as my eyes searched for his returning figure.

Where the hell did he go? Why was he gone for so long? I mean it had been like...an hour. That was a freaking long time!

When the clouds opened and rain began to downpour over the darkened street, I finally saw him.

Oh dear...look at that limp...

The man approaching the front door was in no way, shape, or form the same man who had left earlier. He was trudging with his hat half-slumped over his face, grinning jovially about something whilst singing a ridiculous ballad. He ran into the door first before swinging it wide open and sauntering inside like a washed-up seal.

When our eyes met from across the room, he snorted and bowed in mockery.

I arched a brow before asking dubiously in his own words,

"Tight as a boiled owl, huh?"

He grinned and straightened before stumbling into the side of the wall. Leaning there precariously, he answered in a slurred voice,

"You know, you're a funny, funny gal...you're sho loud and you drive me insane with how...how...risque you are. I'm only trying to save my damn ass from being evicted, but you insist on driving me mad, so damn mad."

I gasped in insult at his words. How dare he! I went out and got a job, I minded my own business, I hadn't asked for his company in the two days I had been here! How could he call me risque?

....So what if I tried to seduce him a couple times...if only he knew what we could be together...was it truly so bad? Was I truly that intolerable?...

"If you cannot stand me so much, then I shall find somewhere else to stay...I'm sorry for ruining your life so terribly, Aaron." I finally answered in a quiet shaky voice that hid nothing of my hurt feelings or bitter resentment.

Moving forward to brush past him towards the door, his arm suddenly shot out, catching me by the waist and pulling me harshly into his vicinity. I emitted a light sound of shock before his eyes were immediately boring into mine as he spoke softly,

"I never said I couldn't stand you, Charlotte. I said you drive me mad, there's a difference, a very stark difference between the two."

"Yes alright, well I'm so sorry for acting risque and driving you insane while you only think of me as a little sis--"

With a low chuckle, he shook his head dejectedly before he angled his head and slammed his mouth over mine in a wet, forceful kiss that cut my words off instantly.

I wasn't complaining...but I was shocked.

When he pulled back, I was staring up into his glassy eyes with a look of confusion roiling through my own.

"Stay away from me, sweet. I can't be distracted by your wiles. You're here to have a place to stay. Nothing more. I won't fall for a homeless prostitute."

My face paled at the same time my hand automatically lifted to slap him smartly across his face, with a resounding clap of palm against skin filling the air between us.

At first, the look of rage that flicked to life inside his dark eyes made me instantly cower back, but to my surprise he suddenly grabbed me and turned me around, slamming my back against the wall.

"You're going to pay for that."

"Fuck you!" I hissed back in his face. I was beginning to really detest drunk Aaron.

He only shoved his mouth against mine again, kissing me with an urgent persistency that had me gasping for air. His tongue parted my lips, lapping inside my mouth until I was dissolving like melting snow against the harsh warmth. I felt one of his hands lift to hold my face before dragging his fingers through the loose bun of my blonde tendrils.

When his other hand gripped and squeezed my waist, moving around to find my romp and squeeze fiercely as his tongue continued to flick deeply inside my mouth, I whimpered into the kiss and began to return his passion.

Keeping me locked against the wall, I was powerless to fight back even if I wanted to...then I suddenly remembered his cold words.

I wont fall for a homeless prostitute.

Bringing my hands up, I shoved him away from me before bolting towards the front door and out into the dark night of St. Augustine.

He wasn't who I thought he was. Maybe John killed him for a reason...maybe he wasn't the hero of their tragic story after all...but if he wasn't...

who could I trust?