A Ghostly Menage

a fire burned down that original house and they’d replaced it with the home she lived in now.

However, the house, while historically imbued, was nothing compared to the rumors surrounding the Wolfgang family, according to an unauthorized memoir published about twenty years ago. They were a completely male line with not a single recorded daughter ever born, and pretty much every generation, they sprouted twins. Not all that strange until you considered the fact that only the twins inherited the house, and that the pair always lived in it, even when one of them got married.

Unverified rumors by townsfolk, which the author included, claimed the brothers shared the one wife. Jenna found the idea of belonging to two men at once titillating, but it had to have been utterly shocking, especially a hundred or so years ago when puritan values held sway.

As if these allegations weren’t astounding enough, the insinuation about what the brothers were was asinine. The author claimed they were natural born werewolves.

“Werewolves!” Jenna laughed, but the sound strangled in her throat when icy fingers tickled up her neck. She whipped her head around and, of course, saw no one.

“Stupid, drafty house.” Casting a suspicious glance around her, she continued to read. The unknown author went on to claim they’d seen it themselves on a full moon. The twin brothers, who would have been the missing brothers’ great grandfather and great-uncle, had supposedly shifted into huge wolves that howled and raced through the woods.

Jenna couldn’t believe the nonsense the book contained. It was obviously a work of fiction and she was surprised the librarian had even given it to her. Yet, what about that picture in the attic of the boys with those wolves? Jenna snorted. She had to be losing her mind to even contemplate the idea that the wolves had been the boys’ daddy and uncle.

She pulled out the newspaper article with the picture of the brothers, one smiling, one not. They certainly didn’t look like animals. Although I bet they get wild in bed. The idea made her wet, something that happened a lot lately.

She spoke aloud. “So, is it true, did you share women like your ancestors supposedly did?”

A faint sound of laughter echoed around her and she jumped out of her chair.

“Is anybody there?” Again, a cold draft touched her, like the light caress of a man’s hand sliding across her neck. She could have even sworn she felt a brief hug.

“This is fucking nuts. First thing tomorrow, I am buying some silicone and filling in every crack in this house. Because there is no such thing as ghosts!” Brave words she wished her rapidly racing heart would believe.

The pages to a book she hadn’t yet touched began flipping. Jenna stared with saucer-wide eyes. “What the fuck?” Fear tightened her belly and she suddenly wished she had a cross-and maybe some holy water. The pages of the book settled and she leaned in to look at the page.

She read the heading. “Witches?” She snorted. “That’s it. Bedtime for me.” Why she spoke aloud, she didn’t know. Just like she didn’t understand why she chose to wear thick flannel jammies to bed. And she ignored the laughter she could swear tickled her ear.

There’s no such thing as ghosts.

* * * * *

“Bloody hell. Now what?” asked Derrick, somewhat frustrated by the thick layer of clothing Jenna had armored herself in. Even an insubstantial caress of her smooth flesh was better than nothing at all.

“Now we take a page from Great-uncle George’s book, and go dream walking.”

“Say what?” Derrick whipped around to look at his brother who had nestled himself on one side of Jenna in the bed. His insubstantial body didn’t even dent the mattress.

“Our mate is very prone to dreaming. So, I say we join her in it.”

Derrick looked at his brother with a furrowed brow. “How the fuck do we do that?”

“He explained it to me once when you were out hunting frogs. He said proximity to the dreamer helped, but basically, we need to fall asleep thinking of her, and when we start our own dream, we need to pull her in.”

“Oh that sounds easy,” drawled Derrick sarcastically, but he still lay down on Jenna’s other side. “First to dream walk gets to kiss her.”

Chapter Four

Jenna found herself in the woods, running frantically-naked. She stopped her mad dash and gaped down at her nude body. “What the hell is going on?”

A crackling of leaves made her whip her head around. She squinted into the dark, gloomy forest, but couldn’t see a thing. Turning back, she let out a scream at the sight of a pair of green eyes glowing at about waist height. They floated in the darkness as if disembodied and stared at her steadily.

Jenna took a step back, the coarse ground abrading the sole of her bare foot. Warm air puffed against her back and she whirled. A terrified moan stuck in her throat when she saw how close a second pair of green eyes stood from her. And she could see the body they belonged to. A giant wolf.

Fuck! Knowing it was stupid, but unable to stop herself, she ran. A loud baying arose behind her, along with the crashing of underbrush as the predators chased her. Jenna’s breath caught in her throat, and she wheezed as she pumped her legs. Branches slapped at her body.

At last, she emerged from the forest into a moonlit glen. Waving fronds of tall grass provided no concealment. The noise of pursuit grew closer. She turned and took two strides when something hit her from behind and took her down to the grass. She screamed.

She struggled, expecting sharp teeth to tear into her. Her dazed mind suddenly realized it wasn’t fur and claws that held her down, but flesh and hands. Powerful hands that gripped her wrists and pulled them above her head, stretching her body beneath a very masculine one-make that a very aroused one.

Jenna quieted and opened her eyes. Night still reigned, but out here in the clearing, the moon illuminated the face of the man who’d tackled her. Familiar green eyes stared back at her.

“You’re one of the brothers,” she whispered. The impossibility of meeting him made her relax. She had to be dreaming, albeit quite realistically.

Straight white teeth with pronounced canines flashed in a wide smile. “Well, hello there. Nice to finally meet you. My name is Derrick.”

He followed up his introduction with a thrust of his hips, and heat coiled through Jenna at the feel of his cock nudging at her clamped thighs. Her nipples tightened as he moved over her, the hair of his chest tickling them. She blushed-unseen she hoped-in the dark.

Suddenly, the weight on her body that had her thinking naughty things disappeared, and she heard cursing and thumping. She jumped up to see Derrick and another naked man rolling on the ground hitting each other.

“Stop it,” she cried. But the pair kept tumbling in the grass. Forking two fingers in her mouth, she whistled. The strident sound stopped the combatants and, untangling themselves, they stood to face her.

Holy fuck. Apparently the story of the Wolfgang brothers had made an impression on her for standing in the flesh-albeit dream flesh-were Derrick and Mark. Looming hunks of maleness with chiseled abs, tapered waists, muscled thighs and arms, and to her embarrassingly horny imagination, two very well hung cocks.

They stared back at her, the one whom she thought was Derrick with a cocky smile full of promise, and the other with a longing in his eyes that made her wet even though he hadn’t touched her.

Derrick sniffed the air. “I smell something good, Mark.”

Jenna blushed. Surely they couldn’t smell her arousal. Apparently, her dream had other ideas because their cocks lengthened and thickened in ways that made her cunt tremble in lust.

“Listen. I know this is a dream and all, but do you mind not looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” asked Derrick walking towards her with masculine grace that made her want to jump on him and devour him. He’s like a walking sex ad.

“Like you’re going to e-eat me,” she stammered taking a step back. Dream or not, this was pretty heavy stuff,