by Ellen March
Breece leaned over her and ran his tongue across the back of her neck. Again she shuddered. Her hand came up and rubbed the spot where his lips had been.
Her silver eyes darkened to the dull grey of stainless steel, and she peered around the car, searching. Then she shook her head, grasped her bag and slammed the door shut.
Breece slid through it, deciding that being a ghost did have its perks, and strode alongside her, taking the steps in an easy loping stride into the hospital. An elderly man walked out, his actions sharp and jaunty, belying his obvious age.
“Morning.” He grinned at Breece.
Breece skidded to a halt. “You can see me?”
He nodded. “Just passed over, thank God. I was on that damn geriatric ward too long.”
“You’re dead?”
“As a dodo.” He nodded his head. “That old body of mine was nothing but a pain in the ass. Couldn’t do a thing, and now look at me.” He spread his arms wide. “I’m like a youngster again.”
“So when did you … well … when did you snuff it?”
This was confusing him. He’d appeared through a portal, but where the heck had he been before then? That concerned him.
“About two minutes ago.” He glanced up at him, his features fading. “And now I guess it’s time to go.” He took a step up into the air, followed by another, then the old man disappeared.
Breece scratched his head. Things were getting weirder by the minute. And then he quickly scooted after Grace, his attention back on his cock. He could visualize her in black stockings and a sexy nurse’s uniform. But then he saw her seated in reception, and his dick swung into lazy lob, where it stayed. This was not what he had pictured at all.
* * *
Grace dropped her bag to the floor and flicked her computer on. Pouring a glass of water from the dispenser, she swallowed another two tablets. She was determined to get rid of her hangover. But she wanted to retain the memory of that incredibly sexy dream. If only it was for real, because that’s what she wanted from Sage. Not his feeble efforts at sex. What she tolerated for the accolades she received as his girlfriend!
Amy grinned at her. “Got a bad head, have we?” She intentionally raised her voice.
Grace shot her a glare. Her throat went into a spasm and she gagged on the aspirin, then threw a slosh of water behind it.
Amy nodded to the coffee. “Thought you’d need one. It’s black and sweet.”
Grace shuddered, feeling a hand skimming her ass. Who had touched her? She spun round. Although she couldn’t see him, Breece leaned against the wall, wearing a filthy smug grin.
“What’s up? You’re jumpy this morning.” Amy began hauling the files together, stacking them in alphabetical order.
“Nothing, it’s just …. Oh never mind.”
“Come on, tell me, did anything happen last night?”
Grace leaned back in her chair. Her thoughtful, almost silly smile was soon replaced by a frown. “I had the singular, most fantastic orgasm of my life.”
Amy cricked a brow.
Breece nodded his head, puffed his chest out. Fuck, but he knew he was good!
“With who? Your toys?”
Grace shook her head. “Nope, with my warrior Breece. I dreamt he made love to me last night. And this morning it was strange, because I actually felt as if he had.”
* * *
Amy was worried. She’d heard a lot about randy ghosts; unfortunately she’d never come across one.
“Tell me what happened.”
“Oi, you work on your own wet dream. I’m not sharing mine.”
“I don’t mean that. It’s just that something happened last night. What I don’t know, but if you called someone through, they could still be in your house.”
“You mean in my bed?”
“Yep, it’s been known to happen.”
Grace burst out laughing. “Well, if he keeps fucking me like that then this is one spook who’s intent on satisfying me.”
Breece couldn’t agree more and rubbed his crotch. He wondered again how long it would be before she’d see him. Because he really fancied having her lips wrapped around his cock. She’d sent a serious host of randy signals to him, yet she bemused him. And something more.
“I’m serious, tell me what happened.”
“Apart from all but passing out, the last thing I remember was throwing my vibrator on the floor.” Her lips curved into a sinful smile. “It wasn’t doing it for me. Then I guess I fell asleep. I was dreaming, and this guy slammed into me from behind.” She squirmed in her seat. Just thinking about it made her knickers damp.
“And?”
“And I sort of came to. You know when you’re between the sleeping and waking plane? I remember clutching the sheets, and I could feel teeth grazing my shoulder, but it was all mixed up, and I didn’t want it to stop.”
Amy swallowed. “Grace, I don’t think this was a dream.”
“Bullshit. Of course it was. Come on, Amy, it was just a bit of harmless fun.” She glanced up as Sage strolled in, and he stopped by the reception desk.
“Hi honey, what was a bit of harmless fun?” He’d come in on the end of the conversation.
“Nothing. We had a girly night that’s all. You wouldn’t be interested.”
Sage nodded. “Yes you’re right.”
Grace tried not to scowl; he could be such a condescending bastard at times. Like now, she thought with a splurge of irritation.
Breece pushed away from the wall. He wanted to know who was muscling in on his girl. He stood close, examining the man, then blew in his face. The man scratched at his nose.
“Don’t forget I’m sleeping over tonight.”
Grace stared at him, her face blank; her thoughts were on her dream. Could she recreate it?
“Remember? I’ve got to attend that function. I’m guest speaker.” He was waiting for a reply.
“Oh yeah, the one I couldn’t go to.” How could she forget?
“Now, honey, you know it would bore you. Tell you what, how about I make it up to you?”
Grace couldn’t stop the red flush heating her face. Did he mean what she thought he did? Was tonight going to be the new Saturday? “Like how?”
“How do you fancy a morning in the gym, working out?”
“Great,” she muttered. The only work-out on her mind was the type that worked your abs and inner thigh muscles.
“I knew you’d be up for it. I’ll be going straight to the function after I get off here. Guess I should be home about nine, just in time for bed.”
“Can’t wait,” said Grace, determined to attack the chocolate biscuits as soon as he left. Comfort eating yet again. It was his fault she was getting fat. She was bored and sexually frustrated.
* * *
Breece stared after him, and then followed. He wanted to know as much as possible about the man who intended on sleeping with his woman.
The fact he’d screwed her when she was almost comatose had nothing to do with it. That was inconsequential. What mattered now was he needed to hurry and stake his claim. Give her more of what she had obviously enjoyed.
He also experienced a surge of possessiveness, which he again sensed was a rare occurrence. What was it about her? Breece didn’t know, except she made him feel like a school kid with his first crush.
He followed Sage into the small office and studied him as he failed to respond to the nurse who flirted with him. Noticed how his gaze skimmed without interest over her. Whilst she stared up at the doctor with limpid eyes, almost transfixed. Breece blew on a piece of paper, satisfied to see it flutter to the floor. She bent over, and Breece pinched her ass, hard.
“Doctor!” She quickly recovered and pasted a cheeky smile on her face, grinning up at him.
Sage frowned. Standing close to her, he asked, “Anything wrong?”
She waggled her finger at him. “Now don’t be coy and pretend. I don’t mind, honestly. In fact I rather enjoyed it.”
“Min
d what?” he asked, absorbed in the report he held. Suddenly he dropped it. Her hand had just coasted across his ass. “What are you doing?” His eyes widened as they splintered over her.
Her face fell. “You pinched my bum?”
“I did no such thing.”
“You didn’t?” She glanced around the room.
“No, I didn’t. Now, if it’s not too much trouble, can we get on with the matters in hand?” Sage’s voice dripped venom. Turning away from her, he snapped irritably, “What is it with you women? You’re all sex mad.”
The nurse’s face flushed bright pink.
* * *
“I’m telling you, I think it was a ghost.” Amy munched on her biscuit. “Wonder what he’ll think of your companion tonight?”
“Leave it there. Sorry, but you have just one crack of life. And then you’re dead long enough.” She let out a loud curse. “Why does it always happen to me?”
“Dropped?”
She nodded, and as she attempted to scoop the soggy biscuit out of her coffee, bits of it flicked onto the surface of the desk.
“Well,” Amy persisted, “I’m still convinced something happened, and there’s more to come.”
“Like what, I’m going to start find signs of the devil around me? Hordes of dead flies stuck to my windows? Spinning heads and creepy, icy blasts of air?” She chuckled, thinking of all the paranormal films she’d watched and the behaviour that was expected of any self-respecting spook bent on haunting.
“I’m telling you, Grace, you wait and see; you’ve got yourself a lover. Albeit a dead one, but I’m certain he’ll be back for more.”
“Shit, I hope so!” A smile slithered across her face, and she finished her coffee, slurping it down, including the sodden crumbs of biscuit.
“What are you like?” Amy said, throwing up her hands.
“Randy?” She placed her mug down. “Look, be realistic, there aren’t any ghosts, period. I’m hearing no whispered words of doom, seeing no objects flinging themselves around the room. Nothing. Anything that’s going on is happening solely in my overactive imagination.”
“It was more than that,” insisted Amy stubbornly.
“Tell you what, anything happens—any lights flick off and on—and I’ll ring you. You and your ghost-busting team can zip around, exorcise the house, and leave me in peace.” She turned, mocking Amy with her silver gaze. “Deal?” Grace again focused on the messy biscuit she’d tried to salvage.
Amy shook her head. “Mark my words, you’ll soon find out I’m right.” She took a sip of her coffee. “Who’s covering for you the rest of the week?”
Grace sniggered at her own inept attempts to drag the biscuit out. A pool of brown stained the surface of the desk. “Don’t know, don’t care, just be bliss to have a few days off.” Having at last retrieved the biscuit, she smiled in triumph. “No work until next week. I see a row of duvet days lying before me.”
“Lucky bitch,” said Amy.
“Well, you shouldn’t have taken all your holidays. Left some spare, always handy.”
“Oh shit,” Amy whispered, “don’t look now, but here comes Dr. Death.”
“The man I love to hate,” said Grace, just as Breece arrived back.
He quirked a brow questioningly, and stood alongside the tall blond man.
“Mr. Collins’ file.”
“What about it, Dr. Connell?” Grace pasted on a false smile and looked up.
“I want it?” His thin fingers began their rolling rumble across the top of the reception desk.
“Trust me, I really would like to give it to you … including the file.” Her smile vanished, replaced by a furrowed brow and an angry grimace.
Breece sensed the hostility coming from Grace, and glanced from one to the other. Then he noticed how the man’s eyes were drawn to her tits. They were his property now. His anger began to channel through him. The fuse was lit.
The blond man leaned over, pushing a flop of hair back. “Listen, Grace, can’t we put everything into the past and start afresh?” His voice was low and soothing.
“Nope, don’t want to.”
He sucked in a frustrated breath. “Come on, Grace, do you want me to put in a complaint about how you refuse to cooperate with your superiors?”
“What, my telling you where to go after you attacked me in the stationery cupboard is uncooperative? Just who the hell do you think you are?”
“It’s your word against mine. I wonder who they’ll believe?” A muscle ticked alongside his jaw, which was taut and sharp. As angular as his features.
Breece’s fists were clenched. He was soooo tempted to take a swing at the man.
Grace rose slowly to her feet and leaned forward toward her adversary, her silver eyes shooting sparks. “Well, now, I think the nurses you’ve groped might have something to say. Don’t you?”
“Come on, Grace, let bygones be bygones. It was a harmless fumble, that’s all.” The words blew out on a soft breath. His pale eyes glowed, and the slash of his lips parted in a creepy smile.
“Whatever. Just say the word ‘please,’ and Amy will hand you the file.” Grace enjoyed winding him up. She would try to anger him, and then take note of the way his pale eyes watered, with no other evidence of a temper tantrum brewing. Instead he appeared calm.
He turned and settled his gaze on Amy. “I suggest you hand it over, now, if you please.”
She did as he asked with a nervous shuffle. And flicked an apologetic glance at Grace.
He smiled at Grace as he took it. Shooting her a sexy wink, Dr. Connell spun around and strode away. At least that had been his intention. Instead he choked and fell back, collapsing on the floor. The stethoscope was wrapped around his neck, and he grabbed at it, gasping for breath.
Amy and Grace exchanged glances; Amy’s was full of worry, Grace’s full of glee. She almost punched the air, thinking there was a God up there, after all. Trying not to giggle, she watched him climb unsteadily to his feet and unwrap the cord from around his throat.
While he collected the notes, he fought back huge racking coughs that made it hard to catch his breath. Finally he stopped coughing and sucked in great gulps of oxygen. Humiliated, he didn’t look up, but grasped the file, tore the stethoscope from around his neck, and stuffed it in his pocket. He raised his hand to his neck and rubbed, ignoring the snigger from Grace.
Breece grinned. He’d wound the stethoscope around the man’s neck in a split second and tugged, hard, almost throttling him. He was looking forward to playing with Dr. Connell some more. This was just a teaser. Because he’d discovered he had a strong urge to protect Grace. Again, he knew instinctively that he’d never felt like this before.
Just what the hell was happening to him?
Chapter Six
Grace lay back in the bath, her thoughts on Sage, and wondered if she could manage to get him to fuck her tonight.
Breece sat on the stool, watching her. His cock was in his hand, and he was thrusting into it.
Grace grasped the sponge and slowly ran it over her chest, her nipples pebbling, her hair framing her body in a molten glow. Her eyes closed, and once again she let her thoughts drift back to the memory of the best orgasm she’d ever had in her life. To her delicious wet dream. Dropping the sponge lower, she opened her legs.
And he groaned aloud.
Grace cocked her head. Her eyes flashed open. “Is anyone there?” She’d heard something that sounded like a moan. A shiver scrambled over her; she was supposed to be the only one in the house. “Sage, is that you?” Her voice quivered as she called out.
Breece stopped his wanking, distracted by her question.
Could she hear him?
And if so, how long before she’d see what he looked like? He was aware he’d knock the socks off Sage. He didn’t have a big ego, just faced it as it was. Breece knew he had the full package, one that he wanted to deliver to Grace. He was insanely determined to look into her face when she saw him for the first t
ime, to watch her come under his hand and experience her shiver of pleasure beneath his body. All knowing that he was her lover, not some Viking conjured in her imagination.
She’d called him; it was her fault that he was in this position and now she was going to get him. All of him—body, mind and heart. Whoa, where did that come from? He didn’t know her. And yet he felt as if he did, as if he’d been waiting for her all his life.
“Grace.” He said her name quietly. And saw her crick her head, as if straining, listening. “Grace,” he said louder, and watched the fear appear on her face. Her eyes darted around the room, and a worried frown creased her forehead. Her knuckles whitened as she gripped the edge of the bath with bone-numbing intensity.
“Who’s there?” Grace rose, her relaxed bath interrupted. Her wide-eyed gaze flickered around the room. The water streamed off her lush body, trickling and dipping around this curve and that. She stood with her hand clutching her throat, her chest surging as she took in fearful gasps of air.
Breece couldn’t drag his eyes off her; a mantle of wet hair clung to her body. It was a deep dark russet in stark contrast to her ivory skin. He conceded she was a tad overweight—okay, he amended, quite a bit—but beautifully proportioned, with her long legs and tapered waist. Her huge, lush tits hung like ripe melons, begging to be held, and her dark red nipples puckered, primed for sucking.
Because she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen in his life. She hit all the right buttons, and now the sexual energy was zinging through him.
His attention dropped to her full, furry minge, a wicked delight that he wanted to scrub his fingers through, ransack each curly pube. There were certainly enough there; they glistened and teased him. He could imagine them soaked with his spunk, dripping with it.
Breece crossed to her, and his hand cupped her tit—he couldn’t stop himself—gently rolling her nipple between his fingers.
Grace shivered and her nub rose and pebbled. She arched into the sensation racking her.
“Oh God!” She gasped the words out, closing her eyes, letting her body experience the sensation bubbling over her.
