Pretty Dead Things (Psychic Unraveled #2)

Chapter 1

PAPASANS & PRECUM

Graham

Apparently, running away only worked in the movies because Maggie Maxwell haunted every second of every goddamn day since I’d left. The worst part of it? She still moaned my name when she came, even though I was a thousand miles away.

And the way she spread her legs open as she leaned back into the papasan—fucking divinity in all its glory.

Her fingers gently ran over her stiffened nipples, down her soft stomach, all the way to that beautiful pussy.

God, she looked good—too good. Her wild, golden hair was a mess—like she’d been playing for hours.

Her cheeks flushed pink, her thick thighs spread open and begging to be on my shoulders.

Fuck!

I needed her.

The heat of my arousal throbbed in my palm as I ran my thumb across the head of my pulsing cock, smearing the precum over the tip. She made me so fucking hard every time I looked at her, and it took everything inside of me not to burst right then.

My breathing steadied as I focused on her—only her, watching how she slowly teased her entrance with that purple dildo… the first toy I found of hers… the one that made her stop breathing when she saw it in my hands.

My hips jerked at the sight.

“I need something inside,” she whispered, dipping the toy in just enough.

My jaw clenched at the sound of her desperate voice, and I let out a breath as my eyes locked onto her fingers replacing the dildo—just like how she used to tease me.

I groaned deep and tightened my fist around my swollen cock. God, I was close—so… fucking… close. I almost couldn’t take it. It would have been so easy to just let go, but I wanted to ride it out. Watch her a little longer. Listen to her voice.

But those needy little noises drove me insane as I palmed my cock, pumping it like it was buried in her tight pussy until I couldn’t hold on—sweat beaded at my brow, my breaths came heavy and erratic, the heat building until—

Maggie let out a quivering moan, and it was over. My balls drew tight and that heat… it wanted out. Now.

My eyes squeezed shut and I relaxed into the inevitable, the pleasure building as I slid long slow strokes down my cock, until I couldn’t contain myself any longer.

“Every damn time, pretty girl… every damn—”

“I say, if you miss her that much, lad… maybe we should—”

“FUCK!!!”

My entire body spasmed—I might’ve blacked out—and before I could do anything about it, my cum shot over my hand and onto the laptop’s screen as Silas materialized in front of me, his grape cigar smoke quickly replacing whatever memory I had left of Maggie’s shampoo.

“Goddamn it! Can you fucking knock?!”

“Never found the need.”

“I’ll find it real goddamn quick! GET OUT!” I pointed to the door, fury and embarrassment all over my face.

“Boy, someone's awfully testy in the morning.”

In a poof of green smoke he was gone. Goddamn him. He always left behind a cloud of his grape-tobacco smelling essence. It wasn’t awful. Just… there. And when I didn’t want company… it was too much.

“I should have left you in that motherfuckin’ lake when I had the chance! Still could, you know!” I yelled to the air.

My gaze flicked to the laptop.

“Aw—shit.” I sighed at the sight of my cum dripping down the screen while Maggie continued playing… moaning for the camera… not actually for me.

I probably shouldn’t have been watching her. Didn’t do a damn thing to help me forget what an asshole I was. Only made me want her more than ever—like an idiot—because I couldn’t stop wondering if she made these videos hoping I’d find them or if she thought of me while she did.

Goddamn it.

There was no going back after I hurt her like that, and looking into her eyes would be a loaded gun. Seeing the pain—the pain that I caused—it was enough to pull the trigger.

Was I a little chickenshit? Absolutely. I’d become what I despised about every other fuckwit that dumped a devoted girl.

I fell back on the bed and pressed a pillow over my face—a feeble attempt at smothering myself. If I held it here long enough, maybe I’d forget to breathe, maybe forget that Maggie's uncle just witnessed an ungodly amount of cum shoot from my dick over a video of his niece masturbating.

Fuck.

I pressed the pillow to my face harder—imitating a smothering that was too good for me.

Lifting it off my face, I sighed. Goddamn it, I couldn’t do that—if I did…

most likely Raife or Ryker would find me.

Dick out. Dead. Maggie’s moans on repeat.

Cum-soaked laptop and all—Jesus Christ, that’d be a sight.

The pillow hit the wall as the most irritated groan tore from my throat.

I needed to man up and fix it. That dearly departed pain in my ass had to go.

Maggie

“Tighter,” Derek rasped as he thrust his dick between my lube-slicked tits in the warmly lit sunroom of the estate.

I’d never titty fucked anyone before… or been titty fucked—if that’s even possible.

Who was the actual “fucker” in this scenario?

I mean, you’d think that between the flashing cock rings, blindfolds, and nipple clamps my boobs would have found their way around a dick or two.

But they hadn’t. This was an entirely new experience—the titty fuck and the fact that it was Derek—of all people—getting off between them…

“That’s it… just like that, pretty thing,” Hunter directed, moving the camera in closer. “Now, lick him, Maggie.”

I did as he asked, opening my mouth so that when Derek pushed himself through my tits, the first rung of his Jacob’s ladder grazed the tip of my tongue.

Yeah, I was shocked, too, the first time I saw it.

With as disgruntled as Derek was about Katie and my sex lives during the Valmont investigation, I never expected him to have a seven-rung Jacob’s ladder piercing his dick. Then again, Katie did say he was a “freak in the sheets” so…

You might be wondering how I got into this situation, the one where Derek’s dick was about to go off between my tits while my freshly hexed boyfriend filmed it.

Well, I was no longer a target in some crazy murderous plot, so I started taking on cases—paranormal ones—that needed some form of psychic intervention.

But it was short-lived. The calls still came multiple times per week, but more often than not the clientele consisted of cases like Mrs. Miller, who hired me to help the ghost of her Shih Tzu cross over.

Or Delilah Jones, whose toilet was possessed by a poltergeist that made the pipes rattle to the tune of The Real Slim Shady.

No matter the size or severity of the spectre...the pay wasn’t great, and living in Port Grey, Massachusetts was fucking expensive.

Luckily for me, the man I cursed into obsession owned an adult film company and was scouting for new talent when he “succumbed” to my spell. I was a new girl under the direction of Hunter Devereaux of Velvet & Vice Productions—Katie too. And Derek? I asked—no, begged him to join us.

He initially declined because he didn’t “do” the whole sex for money thing, and he didn’t want to tarnish his reputation as a paranormal investigator.

But the instant Hunter told him he could hide his identity, that there was an entire market for pierced masked men with pretty good pay and his choice in the women he slept with, he jumped at the chance.

And what could I say? It was fun—and necessary.

Because even though Hunter was absolutely obsessed with me, he was just an okay lover.

He never purposely tried to get me off. But thankfully, between work at the production company and our open bedroom back home, I was orgasming more than I needed—sometimes enough to numb the Graham-sized hole where my heart should’ve been.

I owed it to Derek, though. Because when Graham left, I never thought I’d get over him—and I never would have guessed Derek would be the one to help me through it.

Before I cursed Hunter, Derek and I were getting close—BFFs with benefits close. He’d been the reason I was still alive more than once.

Like the last time I went to the club—before Hunter. I was shitfaced and talking nonsense about how easy it would be to just end it, thinking that if I died… the spell should theoretically break and stop the pain I was causing in an instant.

Derek cut me off, drove me home, and stayed up with me, convincing me that it was worth doing whatever had to be done to break the spell without killing me in the process.

The next thing I knew, we were curled up together in the papasan, watching Friends, smoking weed, and lazily making out. One thing led to another, and before I knew it, I’d seen—and felt—all the places Derek was pierced.

Mind. Blown.

Also… Platonic fucking? Katie was right. It’s a thing. It’s great. Look it up.

Okay, okay, I know it was a bit dramatic to want to end it all over a guy I’d only known for a few weeks and wasn’t even technically dating—but it wasn’t Graham that made me contemplate suicide.

It was the fact that I was a really shitty person—I’d hurt too many without even considering their lives.

Good people didn’t cast love spells on people, especially when they learned the spell made them lovestruck zombies.

But I did. I was selfish, and Graham was right—it was borderline rape—hell, maybe even kidnapping.

The guys I’d cast my spell on only wanted to fuck me.

They hadn’t signed up for anything more than a one-night stand.

At the least, it was manipulative, and in my book manipulative people were not good people—therefore, I was not good people. That was why I was still with Hunter. I couldn’t do that to him. I couldn’t make him another Jamie, another Thomas… another victim.

The aunts said if the tether was still connected, those under my spell would dream of being with me. They might’ve been able to move on enough to get married and love someone else, but ultimately it would be me they saw when they closed their eyes.

Hunter was the last one. I meant it this time.

We got along pretty well, so that was nice. Especially since he’d moved in with me the day after I cursed him. Which in another selfish way… was great because I needed all the help I could get.

Yule was coming up, and my entire family invited themselves over, and unfortunately Derek made me pinky swear that I wouldn’t put a barrel in my mouth. Because if wishing I was dead wasn’t already high on my list, it sure as hell would be by the time they left.

“God, Maggie, your tits are so fucking soft. I’m gonna lose it, fuck—yes—don’t move—” Derek’s voice ripped me out of the pity party in my head just as his control frayed, a groan tearing out of him as his cum painted my tongue and mouth.

“An—d cut!” Hunter watched the replay on his handheld camera, not even looking up at us. “Pretty thing, you’re perfect. Derek, maybe next time, you could try fisting her hair a bit more, maybe bottom out so she gags a wee bit, aye, mate?”

Derek ripped off the red horned Ghostface mask, gave him an I don’t think so look, and collapsed winded onto the papasan. “Ya know what, man, I think I’m good. Besides, I nearly passed out from lack of oxygen.”

“We can get you a new mask… one with better ventilation,” Hunter offered before heading to the study to edit and upload the video.

“Still don’t like him, huh?” I asked, throwing my hair into a messy bun and tossing Derek his underwear.

“I don’t know. I just don’t see you happy with him. Not like—”

“Hey, I’m fine.” I scooped my clothes up before making my way upstairs. “Maybe this is all the happiness I get.”

Derek trailed behind me.

“I’m just saying, maybe you should be open to finding someone else. Chester can’t even stand to be around him. Doesn’t that mean something?”

“Chester is just going to have to learn to tolerate him.”

We stopped at the top of the stairs, both of us naked, disheveled, and slightly perturbed.

“Maggie, he hasn’t been home in a week.” Derek gestured with his underwear in one hand. “Katie can’t keep him forever.”

“Well, she might have to. Hunter ends up with shiv marks on his face and piss stains in his shoes every time they're in the same room.”

“Okay. But maybe Chester’s not the one that should leave…”

“Ugh!” I threw my head back. “Don’t use all the hot water!” I slammed the bedroom door behind me and crashed in a heap on my bed.

Derek wasn’t wrong. What type of cat mom was I? Sending my baby away because he didn’t like the man I cursed into fucking me?

Like I said… horrible person!