Page 23 of Cursed to Love (Cursed to Love #1)

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Wednesday, November 20

P aige came awake slowly, enjoying Blake’s warmth wrapped around her. When she finally opened her eyes, she checked the clock on the nightstand. Seeing they had plenty of time before they had to get ready for work and get Emmie up, she pushed back into him, feeling his hard length against her butt.

They hadn’t made love since Friday night because Blake didn’t want a curse to take him in the middle of it. She’d tried to lighten the mood by teasing him that if a curse did come over him during sex, he would stay stiff for a long time. Even though he’d laughed with her, they’d both known his situation was becoming more dire each day. Blake could get sucked into a trance at any time—no matter what he was doing—leaving him wide open to danger.

He had stopped driving for now, but Paige worried that wasn’t enough. Even daily activities could become dangerous if he suddenly lost control of himself. Going into a trance while he was walking down the stairs meant he could fall and hit his head. It would be worse if he had Emmie in his arms or she was anywhere near him.

Cooking was another risk. The episodes were lasting longer than a half hour now. If Blake had something on the stove and he didn’t have control of himself for over thirty minutes, it could go up in flames and start a fire.

Dozens of possible situations had gone through her mind over the last several days. She’d become a walking encyclopedia of worse-case scenarios.

On Saturday morning, with the image of Blake frozen and helpless stuck in her mind, they’d sat down and talked about what they could do. They’d focused their conversation on safety, avoiding any talk of love. While they’d talked she had wanted to squash her determination to stay self-reliant—at least as much as she could considering she was living in his house—and confess her love. If that was even what she felt, because she still wasn’t sure. Nor did she know how Blake felt, and the last thing she wanted was for him to feel obligated to say he loved her too, only for the curse not to break. She also feared that a false declaration of love could worsen the curse somehow. There were too many unknowns for them to take chances.

Because of that, she had stayed silent about her feelings and concentrated on ways to keep them all safe. That had included her suggestion of Blake sleeping in his bed with her. All week, not just on weekends. Even knowing she wouldn’t be able to do anything for him if he went into a trance while in bed, she felt better having him with her.

Her plan was backfiring because sleeping next to him every night and not being intimate was driving her crazy. She’d been so horny she had considered whipping out her battery-operated boyfriend when Blake had fallen asleep before her the previous night. Then she worried that if he woke up and caught her, he would feel bad about denying her.

Going by his hardening length pressed against her, he was just as horny as she was. She wiggled her butt against him, knowing him well enough to know she would be able to weaken his resolve.

“Paige,” he warned, his voice raspy with sleep.

She bit her lip to stop a laugh from bubbling up and rubbed against him again.

Blake used his arm across her to pull her onto her back, then hovered over her.

He kissed her softly. “I would love to mak—fuck you until we both forget our own names, but we can’t.”

Paige hadn’t missed his slip. He’d been about to say make love, and he would have been right. Even though they weren’t ready to say the three little words to each other, the act of what they were about to do would be more than just fucking.

Not that anything was wrong with a good fuck. She loved it as much as the next woman, but she knew that today it would be more than that. And they would make love—regardless of what they called it—because they both needed to feel close to each other. Maybe she shouldn’t guess what Blake was feeling, but she’d wager she was right on this one—he needed the connection with her as much as she needed it with him.

Relieving some sexual tension wouldn’t hurt either.

Paige planted her hands on Blake’s chest, pushing him off her and onto his back as she rolled over onto him. She straddled his hips and grinned down at his wary expression.

“Paige,” he warned again, but it held less conviction than the last time.

When she ground her groin into his, he let out a long groan. Knowing his resolve was almost gone, she did it again.

She kissed his lips, then ran her tongue along them. “If a curse hits, I can jump off,” she whispered, teasing his lips.

“Okay,” he said before his mouth captured hers in a kiss that sent tingles all the way to her toes.

He cupped the back of her neck with one hand, his other gripping her hip, as they continued to devour each other. When they came up for air, Blake dragged his lips along her jaw and down her neck. The scrape of his stubble on her skin added fuel to the fire already growing inside her.

“I need you in me,” she panted, rubbing herself along his length.

He flopped back onto his pillow. “I’m yours. Take me.”

Placing one hand on the headboard, Paige used it as leverage to lift herself as she reached for his cock. She positioned it at her entrance, then braced her hands on his chest as she slowly slid down onto his length. The fullness of him felt amazing, her body acclimating to him right away, as if he’d been made purposefully for her.

As she rocked against him, giving her clit the friction it craved, Blake’s hands roamed over her hips before moving upward. He pinched her nipples, igniting another flame.

She rocked faster on him. “Harder,” she pleaded.

“I love watching you like this,” he said, sounding breathless. “I want to see you come.”

Blake’s hands lit up her skin, but it wasn’t enough. Frustration built in her as she chased her orgasm, never quite reaching it. Climaxing a few times didn’t mean it was going to happen every time, but she wanted it to.

Tilting her hips, she tried to get more friction, worried her body would soon shut off. “Ugh!”

“Tell me what you need, baby.”

“I need you on top and pounding into me.”

A worried look crossed his face, but before she could tell him not to worry about her having an orgasm, he’d flipped their positions. With his elbows on either side of her, he tilted his hips to give her the friction she needed.

He pressed his forehead against hers. “I’m not going to last long. Rub your clit.”

She hesitated for a moment, then reminded herself that this was Blake and she could touch herself. It didn’t take long, and she felt her body stiffen as her orgasm rocked through her.

Blake thrust several more times before he vibrated with his own climax. He’d barely finished when he pulled out and rolled off her, taking her into his arms.

She cuddled into him and understood why he had rolled off so quickly. They were sated for now.

* * *

The curse let go of Blake. He scrubbed his hands down his face in an effort to relieve his internal tension. Knowing it was useless, he stood from where he’d been working at the dining room table and walked into the kitchen for a bottle of water.

He gave his watch a glance. It was five minutes past two, and he’d already had three episodes today. The first came a few minutes after eight in the morning, not long after Paige had left to take Emmie to daycare before heading into her office.

At eleven o’clock the second episode had frozen him while he’d been walking into the kitchen to refill his coffee. The last one had come over him while he was reading through some documents Jake had emailed him.

The episodes were coming every three hours now. As much as he didn’t want to imagine them getting worse, he expected they would. They’d grown closer together until he was experiencing them daily. From daily, it hadn’t taken long until he was getting several a day. He could only guess that the frequency would continue to increase, which meant the time between them would become shorter.

Uncapping his water, he drank it all before throwing the bottle in the recycle bin. Would he soon need to hurry and refuel his body in the precious minutes he had between episodes? Or would that time dwindle too until he spent all his time sitting stiffly in a chair, no longer aware of the outside world?

He could see Colm hanging from the rafters in his barn, and he wondered if Colm had decided to kill himself before he no longer could. His mom had said in her letter that the curse affected each person differently, so maybe Colm had been driven out of his mind in a different way.

Blake walked back to his dining room but couldn’t sit. He was too restless, thinking that one day all he might be able to do was sit. Deciding to go for a walk, he reached for his phone. It rang in his hand, startling him.

The call display showed that it was from Akerman’s Contracting, but not who. “Blake Akerman,” he said.

“Blake, I’m so glad I got you,” Denise, his office manager, said in a rush. “I know you’re working from home this week, but Jake went to the city office to check on a permit, and Henry is with the senior commercial project manager at the strip mall project. Cade and Ford both have appointments.”

Blake held onto his patience as Denise gave him the whereabouts of his staff; she would eventually get to the reason for her call.

Denise took a big breath before letting it out. “Wayne is on a job… that new house reno on Arrow Street and he’s having a problem with something he needs help with. He said something about the plans not being right. Could you call him?”

“Sure. Thanks for letting me know. And Denise… you can call me anytime.”

“I know… it’s just with everything you’re going through… I…”

He and Cade had made the decision earlier in the week to tell the senior staff that Blake was dealing with an illness. They’d said it wasn’t serious but made him dizzy and prevented him from driving for a while. As much as they hadn’t wanted to lie to their staff, they hadn’t wanted to tell them their family was cursed, either. The story would have to do for now, and when Blake’s condition worsened, they’d figure out what to do then. He wanted to say if it worsened, instead of when , but he couldn’t lie to himself.

“It’s okay,” Blake said gently. “I’ll give Wayne a call.”

Once they’d said their goodbyes and hung up, Blake called up Wayne’s number in his phone.

“Hey, Wayne,” he said when the project manager answered. “Denise said you’ve got a problem?”

“Yeah. I need a second opinion on the plans because something doesn’t look right.”

Blake wouldn’t risk driving, but since he and Jake had first looked at the property together, he knew it wasn’t far away. He would be able to walk there, take a look at the problem, and walk back well before another curse hit him.

“Give me twenty minutes and I’ll meet you at the property,” he told Wayne as he grabbed his coat.

“Great. See you soon.” Blake zipped up his coat and locked the house behind him. The weather had been mild, and luckily they hadn’t had any snow yet, so the walk was easy. The deciduous trees had all lost their leaves, their dark branches looking stark and lonely in the overcast sky.

Leaves swirled around him as he walked, reminding him of Colm and his desolate surroundings. It had been late fall then too, the leaves already laying dead on the ground, ready to be absorbed into the earth.

His latest episode had also been in the fall. In 1672, Winifrid and Giles were madly in love and eloped, defying her wealthy family. They considered Giles to be beneath her, and once they married, cast her out. Winifrid and Giles struggled financially but were happy in their love. Several years after they wed, Giles died in an accident, leaving Winifrid alone and destitute. Too proud to return to her family, she lived the rest of her days alone and in poverty. The love Winifrid had risked everything for had left her abandoned by everyone.

Even knowing that Giles hadn’t meant to die, just like Blake’s dad hadn’t, they had left their widows alone and grieving the loss of the one they loved. Something Blake never wanted to experience.

Pushing the thoughts aside, he turned onto Arrow Street as his phone rang. He pulled it from his pocket and saw Wayne’s name on the call display. “Hey, I’m only a couple of houses away.”

“Sorry, I should have called you sooner. My wife was supposed to drop off my oldest son’s equipment bag before football practice, but she forgot my other kid had a dentist appointment, so asked me to. I’m on my way to the school now. It will probably take me another twenty minutes to get back.”

“I totally get it. I grew up with four brothers, remember?”

Wayne laughed. “Right. Man, I’m glad I’ve only got three sons; that’s enough.”

“We had our parents running all over the place. Why don’t you take a break and watch your son’s practice? I’ve got the code for the keypad so I can let myself in. We can talk about it in the morning.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I’ll be fine. Talk to you tomorrow.” Judging by the episodes he’d already had that day, he figured he had another two hours before he had to get home.

“Tomorrow,” Wayne said before disconnecting.

Blake looked up the code for the door before shoving his phone in his back pocket. He walked around the large dumpster sitting on the property’s driveway and up the steps to the front door. Using the keypad, he unlocked the door and let himself into the house. A strong, musty smell assaulted him.

He looked around, finding a light switch by the door. Nothing happened when he flipped the switch, but he wasn’t surprised. Wayne’s crew had probably turned the power off already. There would be a portable generator around somewhere since they used them to power portable light towers they had for job sites.

Blake didn’t want to bother with a generator, nor did he want to be away from home any longer than absolutely necessary. He’d find the plans and take them home to look at there.

The late afternoon winter sun streamed in through the windows, providing enough light for him to make his way around. It highlighted the dust he kicked up in the air as he walked through what had once been a large front parlor.

He spotted a couple of sawhorses standing at the back of the room with a sheet of plywood on top, acting as a makeshift table. He strode toward it, guessing the plans would be there.

As he walked further into the room, the musty smell became more pungent. Most people probably hated the mildewy, stale smell, but for Blake, it conjured good memories of all the times his dad had taken him and Jake, and later his brothers, to a job site. His dad had been so patient with them, teaching them how to demolish a room and ready it for new construction. Then he’d taught them how to build, giving them fond memories of the smell of sawdust. No matter how many projects he worked on, sawdust would always remind him of his dad.

Blake smiled as he absently reached for the plans sitting on the plywood. A shadow crossed his hand, and he realized he wasn’t alone.

Rearing sideways, he looked up to see who was there and stumbled. Flailing, he gripped onto the plywood to steady himself. He’d grabbed too close to the end of the board, his weight tipping it, snapping the board upright like a wall. With no way for Blake to stop his forward momentum, he crashed to the floor.

“Fuck!” his obscenity rent the air as a jarring pain ripped through his shoulder.

Panting through the pain, he rolled onto his back, just in time to see the plywood teeter and fall toward him.

Whipping his uninjured arm up and across his face for protection, the top end of the wood slammed into him.

Stunned, he lay with the weight of the board on his arm as he caught his breath. At three-quarters of an inch thick, the full board weighed over sixty pounds. Blake considered himself lucky because only the top couple of feet rested on him. It still hurt like fuck, but he didn’t think he’d broken anything.

Since no one would be coming to help, he’d have to get himself out of the mess. Just then, he remembered the reason for his calamity of errors to begin with. Someone had been in the room with him.

If someone had seen him fall, he figured they would have already tried to help. Holding still, he listened but didn’t hear anything except a car pass on the street out front. He was going to have to save himself. Maybe what he’d seen had just been a shadow.

With one arm holding the board off his face, he moved his other, testing to see if he could lift it. Again, nothing felt broken, but his shoulder still hurt like hell. He lifted his hand to the edge of the board and sucked in a sharp breath.

Sucking in a deep breath, he placed his palm on the side of the wood to push it off. If he could get it even partway off, he’d be able to lift up his other arm to help, hopefully avoiding dragging the wood over his face and tearing the shit out of it.

One day this would be a funny story to tell. If he lived through it.

Pushing the board slowly, it scraped across his arm. He could feel his skin tear, but the hurt was a minor discomfort compared to the painful aches already throbbing in his arms.

A couple more small shoves and he figured the board would be far enough to the side to use his arm under it to lift it off. As he pushed the board, he felt his entire body stiffen.

Fuck.

His arm struck his forehead with the full force of the plywood behind it.