“Oliver.” His name rolls off my tongue, seizing the saliva that converged at its tip, leaving my lips against the will of my command. I notice a slight irregularity in his breathing.
Did he just?
His broadness pulses as I feel my lower back dampen, at the same time he fastens a large hand around my jaw. His thumb presses lightly at the bottom of my right ear, while the rest of his fingers fold around my chin, his middle finger brushing my left ear. Then they constrict, and he murmurs, “I blame that on you, dove.” He motions to his pants, my mouth falls open.
He just jizzed his pants andblamedme.
He trails his thumb over my lower lip, cradling my face, before he forces my body against him. His eyes soften, and that familiar scent blankets me—in this moment, I choose to lean into his hold, recallingthe warmth from the previous night. I touch his hand on my waist after fastening my pants, interlocking my fingers with his.
Why does this feel right, letting him in?
Just as I move my other hand towards his face, his presence vanishes. The lock on the door turns over, signaling someone is outside. My heart sinks, while dismay and confusion congest my mental focus—as the emptiness of standing here alone hits me. Niven stands in the entryway, a small book in her arms. “You will not believe what just got here—are you ok, dear?” I look around, not acknowledging her at first, trying to find my pursuer. “What are you looking for?” Niven vocalizes, dragging my attention back to her and away from the shadows.
Did I imagine all of that?
“Nothing,” I shake my head slightly, “Just lost in thought, I guess.”
"No worries, I’d like to show you the new additions to this room.” She turns, and while her back is facing me, I do one last sweep of my surroundings. Her voice nearly frightens me when she speaks again, “Then I have a few things to discuss with you about your… accommodations.” She hesitates for a second, “Are you sure you are, ok? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”
I shake my head slightly. “No, I am fine. Shall we?” I move my arm forward, palm facing up, as I motion for us to start moving.
Niven smiles, “Very well, follow me." She responds with excitement, then she proceeds to guide me back to the front of the store. I take one last look at the room before following her.
As we step into the main section of the library, a box sitsopen on the counter. “Is this what you wanted to show me?”
Her laugh is infectious as she strides over to me, whispering. “Shhh, don’t tell anyone, but I like a good spicy book here and there.” Retrieving a book from the depths of its cardboard housing, she holds it out before me. Her hand covering her mouth as she giggles like a schoolgirl.
I pull the cover into view, and read it aloud, “Yule be Mine: A Krampus Novella.” Glancing up at her, I give her a little smirk, “Is this?”
Niven’s eyes widen. “Shh, keep it down,” she does a quick scan, before she is laughing again, “You never know who is listening.”
Wait, does she see Oliver too?
Oliver—it is only befitting that man as perfect as he is, has a name to match. He may appear flawless, but everyone has secrets—I will find his flaws, but until then, I will focus on finding Evelyn.
∞∞∞
It’s pitch black by the time we exit the library. Niven is securing the doors as I take in the layout of the grounds. “This way.” She beckons after she turns the key. Then, lighting a small lantern she looks at me to make sure I heard her.
“Of course,” I answer. Then, like a majestic creature, she walks in the direction of the manor, her long flowing skirt trailing behind her. I follow her footsteps closely, matching step-for-step. It doesn’t take long before the mansion looms over me—the Victorian features materializing like turning the page of a pop-up book and watching the three-dimensional paper figures take form.
“This is Selby Manor.” She gestures at the foyer the instant the large wooden doors swing open. I step through the entranceway, and the vaulted ceilings along with the Grand staircase stretch, displaying themselves in panoramic view.
The Selby, who owned it, made it their mission to keep it immaculate.
As we step on to the deep burgundy carpet, that sprawled out like a runway, Niven sighs a little, “You will be staying here for the duration of your time. The other shops are either closed or waiting for renovations.” As she speaks, I can tell she is avoiding making eye contact. “I will be in the library if you need me at any given moment.”
Our eyes never meet, and I can see that sorrow has crept into her brows as her gaze falls from the portrait that hung dead center—looking over the stairs. “If I hear anything from your father... sorry, if I get any news from Sir Selby, I’ll let you know.” She clears her throat and leads me further through the portal of the present day and into a pristinely kept past. “So, you will remain on the east wing of the manor.”
“Why the east wing?” I interject.
The wheels are visibly turning as she tries to conjure a response. “The west wing is condemned.” She says, with a lack of certainty. “The floors have wood rot in some places and are unsafe till further notice.” She finishes her response with a snap, giving me the impression that there is more she isn’t telling me.
Sighing, she gives a tired half-smile in an ineffective attempt to hide the terror seeming to consume her. “I will show you to your room, and Mr. Gaston will be here early to help you with your endeavors.”
Making our way up the grand staircase, I glance around Niven in the direction of the west wing. My hope of catching a glimpse of what ailed her was null and void. We take a right as we reach the ledge, causing my view to be blocked by a suit of armor standing guard at the mouth of the dark hall.
Turning my attention back to where Niven is guiding me, we pass by several doors down a candlelit hallway, where the wallpaper and trim appear to be straight out of medieval times. Finally, we stop in front of one and enter a vast room with a four-poster bed, the large windows expand over the view of the abandoned estate grounds.
