by Mina Carter
He held my hand to his cheek, speaking the words in my ear. “Give me a minute, a little space to get things calmed down, babe. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. But watching you sleep, having you in my arms.” His hands flexed on my hips. “You feel so real. So curvy. So sexy. My imagination got carried away.” I heard his loud swallow. “I need my body to get the memo from my brain that what it wants can’t happen. Won’t happen. But I want you,” he rasped heavily, the walls of my phantom heart resonating with the force of that one weighted word. “So very badly.”
I got up slowly, reluctance making my feet drag as I moved toward the kitchen. The timer on the ice cream maker was dinging over and over again. Like my fanciful heart. Stupid, stupid ghost girl. Why had I thought we could make this work?
It was just an irresistible dream. He was irresistible. His slow mischievous smile. His handsome face. His sexy body. His expressive blue eyes that made me believe the impossible was possible. Strong and loyal. A virile man I had no chance of ever satisfying.
My ghostly hands trembled as I tried to gain the focus I needed to turn off the timer. It was a simple manual switch. Complicated electronics were more tricky. They usually fritzed out whenever I tried to operate them. The computer. The remote control. Those were beyond my capability. But I could do this.
I had just turned the dial when I heard his determined footsteps. Then he was directly behind me, touching me again, his hands heavy on my shoulders. “I wanna taste…” He paused, placing his rough cheek against mine, his voice a sexy warm whisper in my ear. “Of the cream.”
“Don’t.” The spoon I’d picked up clattered to the granite. “Don’t flirt with me like that. I can’t take it,” I sputtered sliding away from him. “It’s just too much. I have desires of my own that I’ve accepted will never be satisfied.” I imagined frustrated tears pricking my eyes.
What had happened? Why this detour? I so wanted to go back to the light hearted banter.
Feeling his eyes, I untucked my chin from my chest and met his searching stare head on. His gaze was glowing again with that blue flamed eternal fire. I wondered. “Are my eyes glowing?” I asked.
“Hell, yes.” His deep voice rumbled. “Neon violet. I’ve never seen you like this before.” He took a step closer, arms reaching toward me.
I recognized the look on his face, a man intent on claiming his woman. And I so wanted to be his, to know what it was like to reach the pinnacle of desire. I swallowed hard and tore my gaze away, looking down at the ice cream maker instead, removing the lid and dipping in the spoon. I held it out toward him. “We both know this is the only sweet thing I can offer you.”
The embers in his eyes flared brighter after my words. I’d meant them to be light, teasing and suggestive for sure, but not an invitation, the way he had obviously taken them.
He covered my hand with his own. Nerves that shouldn’t feel anything jolted where we were connected. He lowered his head, a silky hair brushing over my hand before his sexy warm mouth closed around the spoon. “Mmm,” he groaned heated eyes inches from mine. I felt a deep down quiver. Then his tongue darted out greedily removing every single drop. The quiver turned into a full body seismic shake.
I let go of the spoon and took a big step back on legs that suddenly felt too weak to hold me. I lifted my hand to my imagined racing heart. “I’d better go,” I whispered looking away.
“No. Stop running away. It’s not even near dawn. Stay.” I glanced back at him unable to resist. His expression was dark and his eyes…challenging. “We’ve done the things I’ve planned. But I believe I offered to do whatever would make you happy tonight and now I’ve got a pretty good idea of something that will.”
“Oh really?” I arched a brow. “And what’s that?”
He held out his hand. “Come into the bedroom with me and you’ll find out.”
Chapter 30
I love thee not-I dare not love thee. - Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Billy
I can’t remember ever holding my breath for so long. She stared at the hand I offered her for at least twenty of my heart beats.
“Trust me,” I added as I continued to gaze at her bowed head. I laid it all out there, dropping all pretext, because in the end trust was what mattered between a man and a woman in a moment like this, a defining moment that required a leap of faith for both of us. She understood. She looked up at me eyes searching.
“I do trust you,” she replied softly, and I saw the confirmation glistening in her gaze. Her faith in me didn’t reverse the damage to my heart. That would be impossible. The scars would always remain. But for the first time since the accident I felt as if I might be able to finally move forward past the guilt and the shame.
Gaze unwavering she came toward me and placed her hand on mine. I pulled in a deep inhalation of her miraculous lemony scent.
I hoped what I had planned worked.
She let out a surprised squeak when I swept her off her feet without warning. “What are you doing?”
“Keeping you off balance.” I paused my voice thicker my eyes full of intention. “Getting ready to enjoy you.”
The glow of her eyes darkened. Tonight the violet color I knew them to be was shining through, a beautiful contrast to the grey of the rest of her.
I strode into the bedroom able to hold her too light form with only one arm while pulling back the comforter with the other. I’d made the bed earlier just for her. I laid her out and stared for a moment savoring the view of her in my bed.
Her expression becoming guarded she scooted to a seated position at the head of the bed, licking her full lips as if they had suddenly gone dry. “Billy, I’m not quite certain what you have in mind but I don’t think it’ll work. How can it with me like this and you so…” She trailed off, sad resignation I longed to erase filling her eyes.
“I want to try.”
“But there’s no way.” She glanced away. “I know I have a more tangible form now but it’s just an outline, a shell. The mechanics…” She shook her head. “It just can’t happen,” she whispered.
“Not together maybe,” I said pointedly, reaching back between my shoulder blades, drawing my faded Cowboys t-shirt off and putting a knee on the mattress.
Her wide eyes revealed that she didn’t get my meaning so I explained. “Tonight’s about you. Making you smile. Giving you pleasure. You can feel so many things. I don’t want to hear any talk about what’s not possible. Let’s do what is. Wouldn’t you at least let me try?”
She blinked back at me. She got where I was headed with this and was rendered speechless.
“I really want to.” My deepened voice seemed to convince her.
“Yes, of course. I do, too.” She nodded, her ghost breaths coming in and out in shortened bursts already just from the mere thought of what I was planning.
Hell, yeah.
I took that as an encouraging start. Lovemaking was more than mechanics. It was about minds, hearts and souls connecting. At least that’s the way I remembered it. I hadn’t really done it in a very long time.
I threw a leg over her, straddling her form, rocking back on my heels, and reaching for the strings of her blouse. “I’m going to take this off. Ok?”
Her throat moved as she swallowed. “Alright.”
My lips curved as I watched her. She seemed to be holding her breath as I slowly unthreaded the top and separated the two sides. The material of the ghostly cotton she’d somehow conjured felt thinner than it should, more like gauze, but her breasts were breathtakingly perfect, even in grey. I told her so.
She shook her head the ends of her long ghostly tendrils swishing over her chest contradicting me.
“You are perfect,” I insisted brushing her silky hair out of the way and slowly sliding my hand inside her bra, fingers stroking skin that felt real and satiny soft though maybe a little cooler than I expected it to be. I shaped a lace covered mound. “And you feel…” To finally have my hands on her after having thought ab
out it for so long was nearly indescribable. Her expression demure, her lids lowered and her lips parted, she and I both followed my movements as I traced her delectable curves. My heart pounded hard in my chest. I let out a groan. “You feel so good, Ty.” That was the honest truth. She had to see my response. She had to know I wasn’t feeding her a line, but when I glanced up at her face she peered back at me through the thick fringe of her lashes as if unconvinced. “My dick is so damn hard already it’s going to be difficult to control the pace.”
The edges of her mouth lifted into a sexy siren’s smile. And I don’t think she consciously did it, but she arched bringing her beautiful breast more deeply into my questing hand.
“That feel good, babe?” It sure felt good to me but I wanted her to verify. I wanted to please her. Her pleasure was so directly linked to my own and I didn’t want her to be ashamed of her response. I wanted her to fully expose every bit of her desire to me.
Something I didn’t catch briefly shuttered her gaze before she replied. “Oui. I mean yes.” She seemed to break out into French whenever she got flustered.
“Good. I’m glad.” I stared at her for a moment. She exceeded my every fantasy, her shortened breaths lifting lush breasts that seemed to swell beneath my passionate gaze. “I sure as hell am enjoying looking at you and touching your beautiful body. Lean up so I can take your blouse all the way off,” I ordered gently.
When she sat up her budded nipple scored the palm of my hand through the fine lace. We both inhaled sharply at the same time, heated stares penetrating. An image of us naked and intertwined on this bed, her hair spread out on the pillow, me braced up on my arms over her, biceps flexing, and hips rocking between her spread thighs, slammed into my mind. The connection we shared sizzled and popped like an overloaded electrical circuit.
“Billy,” she moaned erotically tilting her head as if I was actually moving inside of her. Could she possibly be thinking the same thing?
Hot holy hell. I already felt so much for her. My chest suddenly felt too damn crowded to contain it all.
My eager hands nearly shook as I took the bottom edge of her blouse and pulled it over her head. She watched me with a look of deep concentration on her face. The material disappeared dissolving into thin air as if it had never been there in the first place the moment I tossed it aside. My eyes widened in surprise.
“I can’t conjure the clothing away from my body,” she explained in a breathless whisper.
That made sense, I guess. My gaze glided back to her. Those perfect breasts in their silk and lace frame were so close to my lips. I wanted to put them in my mouth to taste her but I didn’t know if it was possible. My eyes met hers again, and that was when I got a read on the emotion I’d missed earlier. Uncertainty. Not the emotion I wanted her to have at this point. “Lay back,” I demanded my voice roughened. If she was having doubts it had to be my fault. Maybe I was taking things too slow.
I trailed my finger feather light over her breasts inching closer to the line of intricate lace that outlined them so temptingly. She shivered, but was it my imagination or did her response come just a moment too late to be real? “You see this bra on TV?” I asked tracing a finger just underneath the edge.
“Yes,” she answered softly.
“We need to get you to watch more Victoria’s Secret’s commercials,” I teased hoping to erase the slight crease that had popped up between her brows. “You are sexy as sin in this thing, but…” I paused voice lowering and gestured for her to lift up again. “I want to unclasp it now.”
I reached my arms behind her unhooked it and slid both straps down her arms, lingering at her hands to touch the pads of my fingers to hers.
She shivered again.
“Oh babe,” I praised staring at the exquisitely shaped breasts I had bared. Looking shy she tried to cover them as I continued to stare. “Don’t.” I shook my head stopping her, but I couldn’t stop my mind from imagining just how much more beautiful she must have been when she had been alive. I swallowed back the regret. “You keep responding to me like this,” I warned her, my voice grumbly deep and way the hell turned on, “and we’re both gonna be there way too soon.”
“I’d like that.” She smiled softly lowering her gaze as she reached for me, her grey phantom fingers tracing up my arms, skimming my biceps, making my pulse leap wherever she touched me. I was hers to command.
“We’ll see, ghost girl. We’ll see.”
*****
Thyme
“Take your clothes off, too, Billy.” I spoke the request boldly, though my voice sounded husky as if I had just woken up from sleep. I didn’t look into his eyes. I didn’t want him to see the mounting reservations within mine. I could imagine, and I could pretend, but there was no correspondingly sweet ache within my body as there should have been in response to the warm slide of his purposeful caresses across my skin. So all that remained was making this good for him, and I wanted that for him… so badly.
“Whatever you want,” he replied easily, the rasp in his voice richly decadent and more pronounced than ever. The image of us together flashed through my mind again. Devastating, bone melting disappointment forced me to crush the sheets between my hands in order not to cry out that I couldn’t truly experience the delicious weight of his hot hard body on top of me and his passion slickened skin sliding against mine. Not here, not in reality, only in my mind. Longing that I feared would never be fulfilled swept over me in a punishing wave.
If only I really could have whatever I wanted, I thought sadly. I would choose the man watching me with his eyes glowing and his masculine fingers gliding down the center of my chest between my breasts. I arched into his touch wishing with all my heart that his hands possessed the magic to somehow bring me and my passion to life.
He briefly paused on the button of my jeans, his hot gaze searing me and giving me the courage to continue with the charade. “You’re so damn beautiful, Ty. So responsive,” he praised. “I’ll get your jeans off and then I’ll take off my own. My cock is so damn hard. All I can think about is you touching me.” He drew down my zipper and I shrugged my hips to help. My panties went off along with the jeans. He seemed unsettled by the way my clothes disappeared. But I couldn’t help that. I needed to focus all my remaining energy on keeping up the appearance that this was working for me, to give him the conclusion I desperately wanted him to have.
I was completely naked beneath him now. He swallowed as he stared down at me. His gorgeous eyes half-masted, he looked at me as if I were the most desirable woman he’d ever seen, as if I were an unimaginable gift. Threatening tears pricked my eyes.
I laid my hand against his rough stubble covered cheek. I was in way over my head with him but I was determined not to think about that.
He turned his head brushing his warm lips across my palm. My chest squeezed tight. He was such a loving passionate man. I wanted to be what he needed, but I wasn’t, though I was trying so hard to be. Though my mind was a powerful thing, though I had experienced a million things within its confines over the past ten years, I didn’t think I could take this much further. He would surely know I was pretending. My eyes burned brighter with frustration. Why had I allowed things to go this far? Deep down I knew. Dreams, desires and wishes overruled logic where Billy Blade was concerned.
“I want to see you,” I managed though my voice was barely audible beneath the weight of my emotions. “You promised.”
“Your wish is my command, Ghost Girl.” He stood and unbuckled his jeans. I found myself unable to complete another thought as I looked at him. Golden skin. Light dusting of blond hair on his long legs. And a cock that looked even harder than all the rest of his chiseled body.
“You’re gorgeous,” I breathed without artifice.
He grinned, a wicked grin that transformed into a no holds barred smile as he returned to the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. He laid on his back beside me, reaching for my hands and gently bringing them to where I had been
staring. Curious because Shane had never let things go this far between us, I traced his impressive length. Like warm velvet over steel. He groaned and it made me feel powerful and even bolder. I set aside my own disappointment and my sadness about my inadequacies to satisfy him. I could give him this. My eyes drifted up to his face. His lids were lowered, only a tiny sliver of glowing blue peeking through.
“I need you to go a little faster.” He covered my hands with his and together we moved over his sleek length. “Holy hell, Ty.” He closed his eyes all the way and cursed under his breath. “I’m real close.”
“So am I, I think.” I lied. “But let’s do you first.”
His eyes snapped open the hunger within them apparent. “You ok?” He swallowed thickly, removing my hand, his gaze narrowing on my face. “What’s wrong, Thyme?”
Shit. He was too perceptive. “Nothing.” I looked away trying to get a handle on my emotions. He didn’t give me the time I needed. He moved so quick throwing one leg over me and framing my face with his large warm hands.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I can’t do this.” I shook my head. “If you would just let me…”
“No,” he interrupted his face hardening. “We do this together, for both of us, or not at all.”
“Alright. Not at all then,” I whispered imagining twin flames of mortification blazing my cheeks right before I winked out.
Chapter 31
Truth is beauty and beauty is truth. - John Keats
Thyme
“How thoughtful of you to grace our happy home with your presence, Thyme,” Morpheus announced, his voice a rough restrained whisper, his iridescent raptor eyes glowing in the darkened corner of the living room. He sat glowering in his favorite distressed leather chair with its curved tufted back, his long jean clad legs stretched out before him, his boots up on the red, yellow and aqua upholstered ottoman.
