by Jen Talty
He showered her with sweet, gentle kisses along her forehead, temples, and finally her earlobes. Her entire body tingled with anticipation as she tentatively reached for the zipper of his jeans.
“Careful, sweetheart,” he said into her ear, grabbing her hand. “Valuable merchandise must be handled with care.”
“I think I can handle it.”
He nibbled on her neck and shoulder, then raced a path with his tongue to her nipple. When he drew the tight nub into his mouth, she gasped and clutched his head for support. He was neither gentle, nor harsh.
But perfect.
She glanced down at him as he switched breasts. His eyes opened as if he knew she’d been looking. A slight smile appeared, then vanished as he lowered his lids and continued to roll her nipple against his tongue and teeth.
Before she could really catch her breath, he’d gotten on his knees and rolled her shorts down over her hips. “Oh, God.” She gripped the bedpost. Her skin beaded with perspiration. “Please,” she cried, unable to stand his torturous kisses any longer.
Gently, he pried her legs apart and brought his mouth to her. Electric pulses scorched her skin. She could barely support her own weight under the duress of such passion. Such heat. Such pleasure. “I-I…”
As if he read her thoughts, as soulmates often do without even knowing it, he gave her a gentle push, and she allowed herself to sit back on the bed. He continued to caress and kiss, probing her with his tongue and fingers, bringing her to the brink of sheer exotic decadence, but without actually taking her there. “Oh, God.”
In all her dreams of being with him, loving him, nothing came close to what she felt now. He knew exactly what she needed and how to give it to her. Every touch felt as if she’d found everything she’d been looking for her entire life. A groan rumbled from deep in her throat. She never thought it could be so good.
She threaded her fingers through his hair, her chest heaving up and down with short, choppy breaths.
His fingers dug into her flesh as an orgasm threatened to erupt.
“Owen,” she said with a long moan. Her body shook like a violent earthquake.
He continued to shower her with sweet attention like a baker would dough. Kneading and rolling until it was the perfect shape and size.
“You liked that, did you?”
Slowly, her muscles relaxed as he kissed his way up her stomach and to her lips. His hot tongue swirled around inside her mouth as she wrapped her arms and legs around his hard body. Unable to get enough oxygen to keep her from passing out, she cupped his face and pried his glorious lips from hers.
He blinked his eyes open. “Something wrong?”
“Nope, just found orgasm heaven.”
He buried his face in her neck. “Glad to be of service.”
She slid her hands down his rigid back and into his jeans. No underwear. “So, we like to be free.” She smoothed her fingers across his bare butt.
He chuckled. “I couldn’t find my underwear before I came over.” He scooted off the bed.
“I’m not complaining.” She raised herself up on her elbows and swallowed as he unzipped his pants, then pushed them over his hips and down his thighs. She eased herself onto her knees and inched closer to him. “I thought your body was chiseled back in high school.” She ran her hands across his chest and down his stomach. His abs twitched under her touch.
“What are you doing?”
She kissed his stomach.
He hissed, fisting a handful of her hair. “I might have imagined this once or twice.”
“Me too.” She smiled, darting her tongue over the length of him, trying to keep her body from shaking with nerves. Over the years, he’d been the object of many personal fantasies. She glided her mouth over him, taking him into her mouth slowly.
He growled, shifting his body to the bed, lying down on his back. His skin felt like rose petals against her tongue.
She continued to stroke him, enjoying the way he groaned deep from his gut. His fingers glided through her hair, rubbing her scalp tenderly.
“Shit,” he mumbled. “Courtney, we have a problem.” Tenderly, he kissed her temple and ran his thumb across her lip.
“What?” she managed, glancing up at him.
“Protection. I don’t have any.”
“You’ve still got your gun.”
He rolled his eyes. “Not that kind of protection.”
“I know.” She chuckled. “I’ve got it covered,” she said, reaching for the nightstand, waving the foil package under his nose.
His eyes went wide. “Oh, thank God.” He snatched it from her hands.
“No, thank me.”
“I’m getting to that.”
She giggled as he tore open the package with his teeth, then flung the empty wrapper to the floor. She enjoyed the lighter side to him. Since she’d come home, he’d always been so serious, and she basked in being in the presence of the young man she’d fallen in love with so many years ago.
He nibbled on her ear. “I used to think about doing this all the time.”
“And you don’t now?”
He kissed her neck. “I’m doing it now.”
“You know what I meant. Have you thought about this, being with me like this, since I’ve returned home?”
“You really have to ask that?” He pressed himself inside her, slow and deep.
She gasped, nodding. “You’ve practically ignored me.”
“I’m not ignoring you now.” He raised and lowered his hips, kissing her cheek. “We took chemistry together.”
“Is that supposed to be romantic?” she asked, raising her hips up to meet his, grinding slightly.
He groaned.
She focused on how his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. His breath came in short pants. “It’s about as romantic as I can get.”
He hadn’t been too great with the sweet nothings as a kid, so she really didn’t expect him to be wonderful with sentiments today. His hands roamed her body, bringing her a combination of torture and pleasure.
“Oh, good Lord,” she said, digging her heels into the bed. She bit down on her lower lip.
He smiled, rolling over her faster. His thumbs running over her cheeks as he rested his elbows next to her head. “Amazing chemistry,” he whispered.
“The best.” She tried to control her breathing, but kept gasping, choking on air. Digging her fingers into his backside, she arched her back, begging for him give her release.
When she thought she couldn’t take it a second longer, he stilled and stared down at her, his eyes heavy with longing. He ran a hand across her forehead, through her hair, then down her cheek and across her lip. “Beautiful,” he said before he thrust himself deep inside her.
Right word, right time.
The room spun, and a wave of dizziness blurred her vision. She couldn’t see anything but him. Hear anything but the deep rumble of his moans. The intensity of his gaze cut through her like a knife slicing into soft butter.
This was her man.
The soul she belonged to.
Her destiny.
She tightened her legs around him, holding him as close as she could. The experience was more powerful than she’d been prepared for. Her climax ripped through her body like a tidal wave crashing against the beach. She’d barely noticed his own release spilling into her as he called out her name.
“Courtney,” he whispered between deep moans. “Sweet Courtney.”
Moments later, he collapsed on top of her. She welcomed his weight, stroking his sweat that beaded across his back. She’d worked so hard to get to this point, she wasn’t quite sure what to do next. Getting him in bed was only half the battle. Making him realize they were meant for each other would be a little harder. Having him embrace his unique talent might be impossible.
Her grandmother had told her about how disillusioned he’d become as an adult. Cynical had been the word she used when describing him. Something about when your heart isn’t near th
e one you need, you become lost.
Didn’t she know it. Her life had spiraled into one bad decision after another. Once she moved back, she began to feel like she had a future. But did she really have a future with him?
She feared he might fight it.
“Something wrong?” He shifted to the side, pulling the covers over their bodies and holding her close.
“No.” She raised up on her elbow and ran her fingers through his chest hair. How did she explain this without scaring him away? He didn’t believe in ghosts, the spirit world, or that you could call on them for help, like she did with her grandmother. Grandma had always been there for her, even when Courtney had turned her back on everything she knew to be true. “It’s just, you’re kind of complicated. Or maybe it’s more like you’re a contradiction of sorts.”
He wrinkled his forehead, narrowing his eyes. “Not sure what that means.”
She patted his chest, then gave his pec a kiss before resting her head on his shoulder. “Stay with me tonight?”
He didn’t answer in words, just pulled her closer. She closed her eyes and tried not to think about forever. She couldn’t get ahead of herself. People didn’t fall in love overnight. Even two people who would never be whole without each other.
3
Owen stretched, inhaling a combination of coffee and French toast mixed with an ocean-beach smell. It was as if he woke up on some tropical island that included a free breakfast. Odd, it kind of reminded him of a dream he’d had a few times. He reached for Courtney, but she wasn’t there, hence the intoxicating aromas.
A faint glow from the rising sun peeked through the window. He punched the pillow, rolled to his side, and buried his face. He didn’t want to feel anything for her because it was based on stupid teenage… Hell if he knew what. A trip down memory lane maybe? Hell, he liked her. Liked her a lot, always had. But that wasn’t the point. This was crossing the line.
No, it’s not. You’re connected to her. Don’t fight it.
I doubt this is what you had in mind when you asked me to watch over her when she returned.
Actually…
“How did you know she’d be back?” he asked out loud, as if that would make him feel better about having a conversation with a dead woman.
“Who are you talking to?”
He jumped the moment he heard Courtney’s honey-drenched voice. Damn woman drove him nuts. “I didn’t say anything.”
“And I’m Miss America.” She handed him a cup of coffee and slipped in next to him. Her bare legs rubbed against him under the sheets.
“Pretty damn close.” The coffee smelled like she’d drizzled something other than sugar and cream in it, but he couldn’t place it.
Nutmeg maybe.
She nuzzled her head in his shoulder while he sipped his coffee. The scene was hauntingly familiar, and way too comfortable for his liking. He’d never been comfortable when he’d been living with Nicole. But he hadn’t loved Nicole. Hell, he didn’t love Courtney. He’d just had great sex with the first girl he’d ever kissed. Just being a stupid, sappy old man, nothing more.
True love isn’t sappy.
You’re not real.
Yeah. I am.
Prove it.
Something chilly pressed against his hand and then a few hot drops of coffee spilled out on his chest. “Damn.” He jerked.
“Careful,” Courtney said. “That’s hot.”
“I know.” He rubbed his chest, cursing silently.
Big oaf. I proved it, and you’re still being a stubborn mule.
Oaf? Mule? Right.
Long moments ticked by as he lay there, begging the woman in his head to go away and let him think. He just missed Lilly, that was all. She’d been like a grandmother to him, and Courtney stirred... Well, she stirred his freaking hormones, that’s all. He held her in one arm and took a long, slow sip of a concoction that made him feel as if this were the way every morning should be.
“I really need to get moving,” he said.
Stop fighting your feelings.
What? Going insane because I hear voices? I need to go to work. Leave me alone.
“Breakfast is almost ready.” Courtney’s warm breath against his cool skin didn’t help his confusion. No woman had ever made him feel like she did, and that terrified him. That and the newfound friend his brain seemed to be imagining.
“Something’s bothering you,” she said matter-of-factly.
He half-expected her to look scared or confused, at the very least to be skeptical about what had happened between them. But no, she looked as if she understood what he was thinking and feeling, when he didn’t have a clue himself.
“Something bad always happens on Halloween.” Well, he wasn’t lying about that. Last year, two kids got hit by a car, and one was permanently injured. The year before, someone lit the middle school on fire, causing thousands of dollars’ worth of damage and closing the school for five days. Halloween was just one of those holidays that Owen could live without. “Especially when it falls on the weekend.” He didn’t want to think back years ago to when Halloween actually changed his life.
She pressed her lips against his neck and sighed. “I love Halloween, but I can see how it might make your job difficult.”
“Does that mean you’ll lay off the stories today?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Those stories are half the fun of Halloween. And you used to love those stories yourself.”
Well, he couldn’t argue with that. “Not the point.” He tossed the covers to the side and scanned the room for his jeans.
“Exactly the point.” As if she read his mind, she said, “Try under the bed.”
He bent over, and low and behold, his jeans were tucked neatly under his feet. After he slipped his pants over his hips and securely fastened them, he turned to face her. He still didn’t feel awkward, but he was out of his element. “Thanks.”
She shrugged, then eased herself to her feet in front of him and laced her fingers around his neck. “I believe in spirits. Does that bother you?”
This was one of those questions that no matter how he answered, he’d be in the doghouse. “Not sure.” He frowned at the bizarre turn in his thoughts. It bothered him more that he liked this quirkiness about her. It concerned him that she thought certain foods would ward off certain kinds of ghosts or goblins, and others would cleanse your aura and bring you good will. But what got to him the most was that it didn’t seem abnormal to him, and it should. Must have been growing up across the street from her grandmother. “I don’t. Does that bother you?”
She smiled, tilting her head. Her body flattened against his as she pressed her sugary lips to his mouth. She didn’t seem to have a shy bone in her body. “Hungry?” she questioned, then rolled her tongue over her lower lip.
He groaned as he glanced at the clock. “I suppose.” He snagged his T-shirt and gun and followed her down to the kitchen. The cinnamon smell intensified with every step he took. French toast had always been his favorite, but then again, she knew that. When they were kids, he’d show up on weekends just for her grandmother’s breakfast. “Can you make your grandma’s chili?” He poured himself another cup of coffee and settled down at the kitchen table with the annoying voice telling him not to screw this up. Like there was anything to screw up.
“Grandma left me all her recipes, even her love potions.” She winked at him as she set down a huge plate of French toast, sprinkled with powdered sugar and drowning in syrup, with a side of bacon. “I added some to the dish.”
“Added what?”
“The love potion.”
“You really think I need that after what I did to you last night?” Did he just say that? He lifted the coffee cup to his lips, trying to ignore her, her damn fresh scent, sexy body, and great food. Besides, that was just weird. Her grandmother used to give him powdered sugar on everything. She always said that no dish was complete without it.
“Maybe I’d like a repeat performance tonight.”
The hot coffee scalded his tongue as it went down in one big gulp. He cleared his throat, stabbed his breakfast, and shoved a huge bite into his mouth. He chewed and swallowed and chewed some more.
“Could be arranged,” he said softly, taking another bite.
While he devoured his meal, she sat down across from him and nibbled on hers. She stared at him as if she were studying him. He tried not to pay any attention to her, but her gaze never wavered. “What?” he asked, setting his fork down.
“Do you regret last night?” She pushed her plate aside, clunked her elbows on the table, resting her cheeks in her hands. “Because even if nothing ever came of it, I’m glad it happened.”
He didn’t regret making love to her, but he did regret he didn’t have a clue about what he did want from her, with her, if anything. Life with a woman hadn’t been high on his to-do list. Being able to come and go as he pleased worked for him. Having to answer to someone, didn’t. He tried that once. But she wasn’t Courtney.
No, she wasn’t, and Courtney is your other half. She is what makes you whole. Stop questioning this and go with that famous gut of yours.
Then get out of my head!
“I wanted it to happen fifteen years ago,” he heard himself say. Since when did he have diarrhea of the mouth? “Maybe not exactly that, but… Hell, I obviously don’t regret it since I’m hoping for more.”
“You are totally wigged out by something.”
Yeah, I’m wigged out. I keep hearing little things your grandmother used to say all the time. “No. I’m not.”
“You’re uncomfortable. Why?”
After wiping his mouth with the napkin, he tossed it aside and pushed his chair back. He rose, took her hands in his, and heaved her to his chest. Her wide eyes made him smile “This is just the way I am.” But it wasn’t even close. He might have always been a tad on the quiet side, but he’d never been so completely out of his element he didn’t know which direction to turn. For now, this would have to do.
“Okay,” she said, then smacked her lips against his. “So, I’ll see you later?”
“I’m working till around midnight, but I can stop by while I’m on duty.”
