by Ellen March
“Fuck, no!”
“What, you mean you don’t want me to?”
“Grace, just take me in your mouth, will you? Please?”
“With pleasure. And Breece, when you come, don’t hold back.” She tossed a long tress of hair over her shoulder out of the way.
“If you ever get round to shutting up and taking it then maybe I will.”
She grinned at his teasing and the easy banter between them. It felt so right, so natural, but it wasn’t, not quite. Because there was still the issue of his death. For the first time she wondered where he was buried. But quickly decided she must do the same with her maudlin thoughts—bury them.
She peered up at him, smiling. “One more thing.” Her hand continued its task, rolling up and down his erection, which glistened in the light. She kept her gaze on him. “I want you to hold my head and fuck my mouth hard, thrust up into me. I want to feel your hips writhing against my lips, and then I want you to come, coating my tongue with a wagon load of your luscious sperm.” She dropped a hand and clasped his balls, rolling and gently squeezing. “How about I fuck your ass while we’re at it. You liked that, didn’t you?”
“Fuck, Grace, keep talking like that and I’ll be coming now.”
The last thing he heard was her tinkling laughter splintering over him before he gave himself up to her glorious ministrations. Breece did exactly as she asked.
Next would be his turn.
Chapter Nineteen
Grace lay across Breece. She was sore and exhausted. He’d done things to her body she didn’t think possible.
“I can’t believe anyone could make love for so long.”
“Told you, baby, lazy loving.” His hand cupped the cheek of her ass.
She checked the time. “I’d better start getting ready for work.”
“Pull a sicky.”
“If I do it once, I’ll do it again. It’s too tempting. And besides, as gorgeous as you are, you don’t bring in any income. One of us has to work.”
“I’m sorry, Grace.” The playfulness vanished, and a sombre note took hold.
“Hey, I didn’t mean that the way it came out.” She propped her head on her hand and studied him. “You okay?”
“Yeah, just feeling sorry for myself. Grace, you don’t know how much it means to me that you love me.” His chest rose into a frustrated sigh. “I just wish I could give you what you want, what you deserve.” He raised his hand and smoothed it over her head; the silky texture flowed through his fingers like fine rain on a sunny day.
“I’ve got what I deserve; I’ve got you. I’ll never ask for or want anything else.”
“What about children? Would you have liked some?”
“Don’t know. Haven’t really given it any thought,” she hedged. Grace knew that staying with Breece meant she’d be giving up a lot. Hell, more than a lot; she’d be giving up on a normal life. But she couldn’t envisage one without him in it.
“Liar!” He smacked her ass. “I should let you go, Grace, let you live, but for the life of me I can’t.”
“Good! The only part that still bothers me is the age thing.”
He tipped her head up so that she was looking into his face. “And I told you to stop worrying.”
“But what would happen if I died, say, as a decrepit old woman in her eighties? Would I come to you looking like that?”
“Grace, I don’t have the answers. I don’t know. The only thing I’m sure about is my love for you, baby.” He snuck in a swift kiss. “That’s all you need to believe in.”
Grace gave another worried sigh. As much as they loved each other, she couldn’t help but wonder.
* * *
Amy was already in reception perched on her chair when Grace arrived. A steaming mug of coffee sat ready for her. She sank into her chair, warily wriggling her ass into it.
“Had a hard night?” asked Amy, giving her eyebrows a cheeky waggle as she slurped from her own mug.
“You could say that.” A flush stole over Grace. She peeked over to where Breece was standing, leaning against the wall, wearing his confident, alpha male grin and rubbing his crotch in a suggestive manner. “It was very, er, entertaining.”
“That’s a new name for it,” he teased.
Grace saw his smile become a glower and turned to see Sage make an appearance.
“Morning, both.” He flashed Grace a special smile, one he’d practised and perfected in the mirror. He whipped out a gigantic bunch of flowers from behind his back. “For you Grace.”
“Why?” She frowned.
“To say I’m sorry,”
“Okay, you’ve said it. Now piss off,” growled Breece. He didn’t want the good doctor anywhere near his girl.
“It’s too late,” Grace said. “We’re over.” She pushed her mane of hair back. Breece had insisted on her leaving it down. One disapproving glance from Sage made her glad she had.
“Are you free this evening, say about seven?”
“No, I’m not.”
“How about I take you out for a meal?” He continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “Or if you like, we can stay in, and you can cook one of your specialities.”
“I don’t have one, and you’re not coming over.” She didn’t take the flowers; instead she flicked her computer on and turned her back to him.
“Grace, stop playing hard to get. I know what you want.” He dropped the flowers on the top of the desk, bemused when they crashed to the floor, the petals splattering and breaking. He picked them up and discovered he held nothing but a bunch of stalks. The buds remained on the floor.
He frowned, looking down at the petals littering her floor. It was a charnel house of broken heads.
“What I want is for you to leave me alone. And I suggest complaining to the florist. Those flowers didn’t last very long.”
Sage couldn’t believe he was holding £50 worth of decapitated stalks in his hand. He flung them in the bin.
“Get a cleaner to sort this mess out.” Sage was about to leave, then added, “And send her on to my office afterwards. You were supposed to have cleaned that, you know. I’ll make sure you’re docked.”
“Didn’t doubt it for a moment,” said Grace, flashing a grin at Breece.
Sage gave a short of disgust. “Just see to it that it’s back to the state I expect, all right?”
“Why?” Grace said. “It’s not my fault; neither do I order the cleaners around.” Grace deliberately dunked a chocolate-coated biscuit into her coffee, sucked and slurped it to a soft mush.
“I’ll email the diet sheet I’ve compiled for you. Amy, make sure you get rid of all that temptation.”
“Sage! What part of ‘we’re through’ don’t you get?” Grace almost screamed at him, wishing he’d understand.
Sage turned to Amy. “Pencil in her lunch date with me.”
She turned to her friend. “Don’t even think about it. Sage, if I hear one more word, I’ll report you for harassment. You got that?”
“Hormonal, are you? I can sort that out as well.”
“As well as what?”
“The sex therapist I’ve booked you up with.”
She closed her eyes and prayed that she was having a nightmare. Why couldn’t he stop being so controlling? He just couldn’t admit he no longer had a say in her life.
“I’ll leave you to think on matters, but either way, Grace, we’ll be walking down that aisle next year.” He gave her a quick wink and left, whistling to himself.
Amy stared at her friend, who was wearing a sappy look as she stared at the wall. And guessed what she was looking at.
Breece pushed away from the wall and moved towards her. Taking hold of her waist, he planted a kiss on her lips. “I’m on walkabout. Catch you back home. You okay with that?”
“Yes, don’t go worrying.” She checked the screen and noticed that Dr. Connell had booked in sick, estimated time out—unknown. “He won’t be turning up; you’ve shaken him to the root. And as for Sage, I
can handle him.”
“Good.” He tapped her nose. “See you soon, baby.”
Chapter Twenty
Breece lay on the settee, flicking through the channels. He didn’t need a remote. A mere blink of the eye did the trick. Being a ghost certainly had its perks—no food bills and no rooting for the remote when football came on. He discovered he enjoyed Formula 1, along with a lot of the sports channels.
Then a hazy mist blew across his eyes. And just as suddenly, his vision cleared again.
The stranger in Regency dress appeared, along with his satchel.
Breece’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped. “Well, hello again! Afraid you’re wasting your time.” He didn’t move but continued to lie on the settee. “There’s no ghost come through that needs your welcoming party, um … what did you say your name was?”
“The name’s Frank.” He shook his head. “I know it’s not a good name, but it’s the one I’ve been blessed, or cursed with.”
Breece chuckled. “Nice to meet you, Frank. If I had that name I’d be inclined to keep quiet about it too.”
“Exactly.” He examined Breece with a keen scrutiny.
“So why the visit?” Breece asked, at first just curious. Then the hair on the back of his neck started to rise.
“I’ve come to collect you.”
“What?!” Fear slammed into his chest. The TV suddenly blazed and switched into a manic swirl of channels.
“Your time is up, I’m afraid. You need to return.” The little man was examining his nails, deliberately avoiding eye contact with the broken man before him. He hated this part of his job. Breece came across as a genuinely nice guy.
“To where? I thought I’d be staying here forever.”
“You thought wrong. You really should have read the rules.”
“What rules?!” He almost screamed the words out.
“We don’t allow you to fall in love. That’s a no-no. We can’t allow you to tip the balance. You’re dead, she’s not. There’s no future. You’ve got to let her live her life. And the other matter is you bringing out your inner demon. You shouldn’t have done that. It was that which gave it away. The heat and the anger. You do realize it ripples through the universe?”
“No, I thought it would be between the four walls surrounding me and that twat. Not the fucking world.”
Frank shook his head and heaved a sigh. He could understand Breece’s frustration, his anger and sarcasm. “You were wrong. Now we simply can’t allow you to live this way, to interfere with a mortal’s life. So, if you are ready?”
“I can’t leave, not now, not ever.” Breece rose and paced the room in jerky steps. He felt sick. Christ, he felt more that that—a sharp, twisting pain that penetrated his core.
From out of the blue came a vision, one of him holding a dog. It was a small, black and white mongrel, yet he sensed the love he felt for her. But age and illness had overtaken her. She looked up at him; her huge, trusting, dark blackberry eyes never left his face. She wagged her tail, which thumped against the tabletop. Was she showing she understood?
He would never know.
The vet asked him to hold her tight, and with tears streaming down his face he complied. The needle inserted, she gave one short, forlorn sigh, her last breath. Her head fell back. He knew he’d done the right thing; he had saved her from further suffering.
Yet it didn’t stop him from feeling like every sort of bastard.
And now he was about to do the same thing again. Only this time he’d never recover from the loss, from the pain that was going to sear his soul.
He knew he had to let her go.
“You don’t have a choice,” Frank said, not unsympathetic. “Come, Breece, it’s time.”
“I won’t leave; I can’t until I explain it to Grace.” He turned to him. “Please, Frank, I’m begging you. Give me this one night. The last time I will hold her, love her.”
“Bloody hell. Yes, all right, stop being so dramatic.” Frank glanced down at his fob, glad he’d never suffered the affliction of love. “You’ve got till eight in the morning and then you’ll be reclaimed. At exactly eight on the button you’ll be gone, forever. Do you understand?”
Breece nodded, trying to choke back the nausea; he knew he couldn’t prevent what was going to happen. He was determined to make it easier on Grace, yet how?
How could he explain that their love wasn’t going anywhere; that it had, in fact, been doomed from the start and was about to come to a grinding halt?
He scrubbed a hand over distinctly watery eyes. He’d thought he had it all, and that he could make her happy. Now he understood that by claiming her, he was asking her to give up everything.
She’d told him she was his, always would be, but now that was about to change.
For the rest of the afternoon he mourned their loss. He couldn’t face never seeing Grace again, didn’t know how he’d cope, and more worryingly, how she would manage. He tried to put his thoughts, his fears about his own fate aside. What really scared him was Grace, alone, without him. And all he could envisage for himself was an eternity of dismal pain.
However, he was determined that he didn’t want that for her. Somehow he would have to reason with her, coax her into starting a new life.
With someone who would love and cherish her.
His heart hitched. He almost choked at the thought. Yet as long as he could soothe her pain, that was enough. It was all he would ask for: Grace’s happiness, even if the thought of her achieving it without him was too much to bear. Perhaps he would never “see” her with another man. After all, he didn’t know if he would be allowed to watch over her life once he “moved on.”
Happiness. That’s all he wanted for her. To be happy, to be pain free.
Breece was still mulling over what to do when Grace returned, her smile lighting up her beautiful face as soon as she saw him. The door closed and she was in his arms, snuggling in, wiggling sexy hips against his cock and seeking out his lips.
“I love you, Breece, and it’s better than chocolate to come home to you waiting here for me.” She nipped hard on his throat. “You know that, don’t you?”
“Ditto, baby.” His words croaked out, and he forced back the tears that were running close behind. “Whatever happens, will you trust in me, that I’ll always love you?”
She leaned back and glanced up at him, a quizzical expression on her face. “I know, sweetheart, but there’s something wrong.” Cautiously she cupped his face. Could feel the fear and despair soaking through his skin. Perhaps because she was the only one who could see or feel him, she felt physically connected to him.
He cradled her face in his hands and stared down at her, already pining for her. He was committing her dear features to memory, the look and feel of her soft skin.
His eyes glazed with a film of tears. One spilled over and made its way slowly down his cheek. He wished he could hold it back. Fuck, he wished a lot of things, mainly that he was alive. He’d actually thought he could cope with death, with being a ghost, as long as he was forever at her side.
But now all that was about to change.
“Whatever happens,” he said, “never doubt my love for you.” He pressed a kiss to her lips, which quivered beneath his touch. “Because, Grace, I’ll always love you. Even if I’m not here, you’ll feel me.”
A seed of worry took hold. “Stop it, Breece, you’re scaring me.”
He didn’t want to tell her. But he couldn’t leave her in the dark, forever wondering and waiting. “I had a visitor today. I’ve got to return to wherever the hell I came from.”
Her pale skin turned paler still. “Whoa, what are you talking about? Breece, you can’t be leaving me, you just can’t!”
Hysteria began to build, a rush of pure fear, absolute terror. This wasn’t happening, it couldn’t be.
“Apparently I’m called back. My rather dramatic temper tantrum is to blame.”
“So, can’t they rap your knuckles and let
you go?”
“No, baby. You know I asked; I had to beg for this final night. I was supposed to leave this afternoon.” He would have laughed if the situation wasn’t so serious. It sounded like he was late for a train journey or a meeting.
He wrapped her in his arms and held her tight, his head resting on hers. His lips continued to move over her head, and his tears to fall.
“But what will happen?” Grace’s own sobs tore at her throat. She tasted his despair, his all too real fear.
“I don’t know, baby, but I’m pretty sure I won’t see you for a long time, if ever.” He simply held her, his own despair overwhelming, as she shivered and sobbed in his arms. “But trust me, wherever I am, I’ll be searching for you. I’ll never stop thinking about you, wanting you, not ever Grace. Your soul will forever be in my heart, and I swear I’ll find you, somehow. If I possibly can, I’ll arrange a way to come back.”
“But what if ….” she began. “Oh Christ, Breece, I can’t live without you. I love you too much.” She clutched him tight as she convulsed in gut-wrenching sobs.
“Ditto, baby.” He held her close, almost crawling into her body. “But Grace, this is for your own good. It’s not fair for me to give you hope. I know you can’t accept this now, but some day you’ll be glad you didn’t give up the prime of your life to a ghost.”
She clung to his fingers, twisting them hard. “Breece, where you go I go.”
He closed his eyes, his dark lashes sodden with tears. “Don’t go there, Grace. Don’t ever kill yourself! You’ve got too much to live for. When the time is right perhaps we’ll be together, but until then you’ve got to experience life. And you must feel free to love again. I could never forgive myself if the memory of me kept you from living. Oh, why is this so difficult? I tell you one thing, then I tell you another. I know I shouldn’t give you hope, but part of me is too selfish not to move heaven and earth to get you back.”
She pulled away and grasped his shoulders so she could look him in the eye. “Don’t you understand? I can’t live without you, not a single day!” She covered him with her lips. They didn’t seek, they devoured.
