Did it have something to do with the Northern Lights or were these visits actually creating a connection?
God, he hoped it was the latter.
He needed her. Not just spiritually. She was his ticket back to the physical.
Gemma drifted in that place where she wasn’t completely asleep yet couldn’t fully wake up.
He was here.
She could feel him...breathe?
Spirits didn’t breathe. But then he was more than a spirit. He was a Dreamweaver come to weave an enchanting spell over her, enslave her into giving up her soul so that he could take over her body. She’d read a little more today after everyone had made such a big deal, and now she didn’t know what to believe. Just knew she wanted to curl into him.
He smelled like fresh mountain breezes with undertones of earth and pine.
Heavenly.
She mentally giggled at the thought. Of course he smelled heavenly. Wasn’t that where he was from?
But what if he was from that other place? The one she dared not mention in case she invited a darker element into her life. One otherworldly spirit was enough.
Could she be a spirit magnet?
Her mother had raised her on a steady diet of natural organic foods, and homegrown herbs and berries with enough supplements to ensure she lived forever. It was a hard habit to break. Her first fast food hamburger and fries had been at the age of fourteen, and she’d promptly thrown it up. She was pretty healthy without a lot of toxic chemicals, though like most women, she had an addiction to chocolate. Pilates was her exercise of choice, and weather permitting, she took full advantage of all the outside activities living in Alaska provided.
Yeah, her system probably was real attractive to the body impaired.
“It isn’t your body that attracts me,” a husky whisper said before lips nibbled the side of her neck. “At least, not just your body, which is smoking.”
Funny, wouldn’t a dream lover say all the right things? He’d kind of stumbled over that.
She needed to make him go, but instead found herself arching her neck to give him better access. If she could only open her eyes, he’d disappear. But her eyelids were so heavy. She reached up her hand and laid it on his cheek.
Her fingers dived into the softest, silkiest hair. She had a picture of sun-bleached wavy strains left too long without a trim.
This was different. More interactive.
He groaned. The sound vibrated throughout her like a plucked guitar string. “Yes, touch me,” he said. “It’s been so long since someone has touched me.”
She could feel him, hear him. He was more than just a sensation this time. “How is this possible?”
“Don’t question. Just do.”
“Who are you?” Please don’t say Dreamweaver.
“Lucky.”
What did that mean?
His hand, large and calloused cupped her bare breast and her nipple pebbled, stealing her breath. How was he doing this? And was she naked again?
“Yes.” There was a smile in his voice as he switched attention from one nipple to the other.
“Okay, how?” Did she really even care as his clear expertise in seduction ratcheted up her need for him?
“That’s a loaded question, Gemma.” His lips traveled lower over her collarbone.
“I need some answers.” Boy, did she ever. And quickly, before her mind gave up and let her body embrace the sensations he enticed her with.
“I know. But could we just...enjoy each other first?”
He did have a point. A very impressive point.
“Why thank you.”
“Are you reading my mind?”
“Sorry, bad habit I’ve recently gotten into.” His lips traveled to her breasts, and one rogue hand ventured lower. Much lower. Any articulate thought evaporated.
He gave a husky laugh. “Good to know.”
He went to church, worshipping, lavishing her nipples while his fingers teased and tormented until everything inside her melted with wanting. Why was he doing this to her?
“Because you’re the one.”
“The one what?” She needed to stay coherent, present, and not drift with him.
“Not what. Who. You and I were meant for each other, Gemma.”
“How do you mean?” A shiver of unease intruded.
“You were my future.”
“What do you mean ‘were’?”
“We are destined, Gemma.” His mouth traveled lower, and she started to see stars.
“Wait...what?”
“Do you really want me to stop and explain?”
Nooo. Yes.
She didn’t know what she wanted. She wanted him. Wanted to be filled, consumed, and thoroughly loved by him.
“I’m here willing to do it all, babe.”
Babe?
“Gemma,” he rushed to cover.
Had that been a slip? Most men called women ‘babe’ as a cover because they couldn’t remember the woman’s name. “How many other women do you visit?”
“There is only you.” There was a long pause. “But to be honest, there have been many. Before.”
“Before what?”
“Before I...died.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Gemma rushed to let Tern inside the bookstore. They had an hour before anyone would be reporting to work, and before the store was scheduled to open.
“I stopped and picked up cinnamon rolls from Bun on the Run.” Tern held up a bag. “Not that the café food isn’t great, but I’m sure you get tired of it.”
“Bless you.” Gemma relocked the door and led the way to a little bistro table in the back of the café. If people saw them from the large plate-glass windows, there would be knocking and begging for her to open early. Coffee goers were a wired group, as she was learning herself. Never had she been this agitated. When this “situation” was over with, and she cut back on her consumption, the caffeine withdrawals were bound to be legendary.
But that wasn’t today, and she needed the hit, feeling more zombie than human. Gemma veered toward the café to pour mountainous cups of coffee, adding a few too many shots of espresso to hers. Getting through today was going to be an experience.
“So, tell me what happened last night? You didn’t sleep, did you?”
Gemma placed their coffees down on the table and sat. “Uh...some.” Not that it was enough sleep to count since she’d been participating in other activities at the time.
“Did your Dreamweaver visit?”
“Yes.”
“Gemma!”
“I tried to stay awake. I really did, but after two in the morning, I gave it up.” Thinking she was crazy to be afraid of going to sleep. Boy, had she been proved wrong.
“So what happened?”
Gemma’s face heated. “Okay, first off—I feel nuts for talking about this—but, Tern, you have to understand. He is really sexy and really adept at seduction.”
“How far? Was there inter—”
“No.” But it had been close. So close.
“Did you get his name?”
“No.” What did Tern think of her? She sounded so easy to her own ears. Some random guy, spirit, or whatever, shows up and puts the moves on her, and she just lays there and takes it. Participates, even.
“Gemma, if he shows up again you have to get his name. There is power in a name.”
She’d tried, hadn’t she? It was all a bit fuzzy in the light of day. “Okay, if I see him again, I’ll get his name.”
“Good. I talked to Gage. He’s in Poker Flats with all his fellow cronies from around the world. They haven’t seen solar displays like this since the 1960’s. It’s like geekville out there. While he doesn’t believe in all this Dreamweaver stuff—scientist —” she shrugged “he did say that the intense solar flares are interfering with radio transmissions and satellites. He’s going to keep me updated with the forecast.” Tern reached over and laid her hand over Gemma’s, her eyes solemn. “He also said it’s going to get more extre
me in the next few days based on the sun’s flares in the last twelve hours. The most recent flares from the sun are like nuclear bombs.”
Great. Gemma peered into the black liquid of her cup. If that was the case, she’d need something stronger than coffee to stay awake.
“I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep in three weeks. And last night, might as well count as no sleep. I’d just dropped off when he was there. In fact—” she shook her head “—no never mind.”
“Tell me. The littlest thing could give us a clue on how to stop him.”
Gemma thought about it, realizing that Tern wasn’t going to think she was crazier. She leaned in even though she knew they were alone and no one could overhear them. “Before I fell asleep, I could have sworn I heard him.”
“While you were awake?”
“Yes, and later when we were, you know, we talked.”
“Like communicated in your dream?”
“No, actually talked. He could read my thoughts though, come to think of it. But I talked to him. I heard him.”
“Hmm.”
“What does that mean?” She sat back in her chair.
“I think we need to talk to your mother.”
“No. Tern, you don’t understand. Mom is barely there. This will send her right over into that other world of hers and there won’t be enough medication to bring her back.”
Tern seemed to shelf that argument for another time. “How did you stop, you know, both of you? Did the alarm clock go off like last time?”
“No, I was able to call a halt.”
“How?”
“You know how I said we could talk? Well, he’s enough of a man—Dreamweaver or not—to step in it. He called me babe.”
“Babe?” Tern narrowed her eyes. “He called you babe?”
“Yeah, can you believe it?”
“How do you mean? Like an endearment in the heat of the moment?”
“No, more like when a guy calls you babe when he can’t remember your name.”
“I don’t know. Babe isn’t all bad.”
“Seriously?”
“I had someone special who used to call me babe. But it was sweet and so like him, you know?” Tern gave her a bittersweet smile. “I was going to introduce him to you when we returned from...” Darkness clouded her features. “Never mind. We’re getting off track.” She cleared her throat. “Okay, let’s plan on what we’re going to do.”
Tern’s mood shifted so quickly that Gemma had trouble catching up. She knew Tern and Gage had been through hell last summer.
“What are your plans tonight?” Tern asked. “Gage will be in Poker Flats probably for the next few days. Do you want to crash at my place?”
“Actually, I kind of have another get-together with Cub.”
“Ooh, that’s perfect. Sleep with him tonight. I doubt your Dreamweaver will be able to put in an appearance if you’re getting busy with another man. If he does that might be...crowded.”
“I am not sleeping with Cub.”
“Why not? What if you’ve brought this on yourself because you’re sexually frustrated? Maybe that’s the reason this Dreamweaver sought you out. Like a succubus.”
“Ew. No, he said we were destined. That I was his future...that is, you know, before he died.”
“Hmm.”
“You have to stop with the hmms. They wig me out.”
“I need to do some more research. If you don’t want to talk to Siri, my Grandma Coho probably has some insight.”
“No more people. I don’t want everyone to know that I’m having astral sex with some Dreamweaver.” She sounded nutty enough.
“Then talk to your mother. If destiny’s involved you could be in real trouble.”
CHAPTER SIX
Gemma strapped her kayak onto the roof of her car and drove to meet Cub.
It was technically still winter, even though the calendar said spring was around the corner. But the rivers and lakes were frozen and there was enough snow on the ground to call a snow day in most cities of the lower forty-eight. To keep in kayaking form, and be ready once the ice broke up, Gemma had joined a group of diehards who met one night a week at the Hamme Pool. They paddled and practiced rolls, exercising muscles that wouldn’t get that kind of a workout in a gym.
It was also where she’d first met Cub.
He was an avid river kayaker, famous in these parts. He could probably compete on a world stage if he felt so inclined. But as far as she could tell, his biggest competition was himself.
“Hey, Gemma,” Cub greeted as she climbed out of her Outback Subaru and began unstrapping her neon green river kayak. He made quick work of getting the kayak off the roof of her car. She wasn’t short, more average than tall, but Cub shouted his Viking heritage with Norse god good looks to his big feet and towering six-four foot frame. She’d never believe the man could fit into a whitewater kayak if she hadn’t seen it so herself. And while she plunked, more than slid into her kayak seat, Cub melted into his like butter on toast. There was something admirable about a man who was so comfortable in skin.
“Thanks, Cub.”
He handed her the boat one-handed and picked up his own that he’d set on the ice-packed blacktop in order to give her a hand.
“Hey, I’ve been thinking of that kiss we shared the other day.”
She flicked a look at him from under her lashes, wondering where he was going with this subject. So out of the blue too. They usually discussed technique, certain rivers they wanted to traverse, or the weather, while walking in to the pool to meet the five to seven other people who took advantage of the “evening kayaking.”
“Okay, what about the kiss?”
“I think we should try it again.” Cub stopped, and while he couldn’t really face her with each of them holding a kayak, he did pretty good job of nailing her with a look that had her swallowing a sudden—surprising—kick of curiosity. “I wasn’t really on my game the other night, and I think we should give it another go.”
She hadn’t thought there was anything between them besides common interests and friendship. But, hey, why not. Cub made a lot more sense than her Dreamweaver.
“I’d like that.” She shared a smile with him, and they continued into the building, Cub holding the door open for her.
He was sweet and thoughtful and had a corporeal body. And he wasn’t hard to look at either.
Suddenly she was glad that she hadn’t pushed off tonight since she was so tired. She was also glad she’d downed that Rock Star.
Lucky didn’t feel lucky at all. He’d been talking all damn day, but Gemma, by all accounts, hadn’t heard a peep from him. Similar to the day before, he’d been able to follow her around feeling like an attention-starved puppy, his heart weeping at seeing Tern. Hell, how he’d missed her too.
He missed everything.
He’d mentally salivated watching Gemma partake of each bite of cinnamon roll from the Bun on the Run. He wished there was some way he could experience what she smelled, tasted, felt. Definitely what she felt. How she felt.
Touching her while she dreamt was thrilling, amazing. Sensual on a level that he hadn’t been with a woman before—no shit—but he still missed that human contact. The pressing together of warm flesh, the thrusting of groins, entering the heat of a woman. Entering Gemma.
Holy hell, did he want to enter Gemma.
Should he be saying holy hell? All right, holy heaven. There, that felt somewhat better. Or more appropriate. Listening to Tern and Gemma discussing all the implications of him visiting from another plane, kind of freaked him out too. They didn’t understand that he wasn’t out to harm Gemma. He wanted to give her pleasure. But that wasn’t his only motivation. If one thing death had taught him, it didn’t do any good to lie to one’s self.
Was this a particular hell he’d been sent to because of the free-living lifestyle he’d engaged in while alive?
Too may questions.
For now, he’d learn more about Gemma. Knowle
dge was power. He was beginning to realize she was his soul mate. She was beautiful, smart, adventurous, and fit. So physically fit.
But who the hell was this guy she was with?
Lucky didn’t like the way she looked at him, staring too long when he tore off his shirt and revealed muscles that even made his mouth drop open.
Gemma stripped down to her sunset-orange bikini. Where the hell was her life jacket? Those perfect breasts, which had left Cub speechless, too, needed to be covered up and buckled down.
Cub sidled up to Gemma, and on instinct, Lucky tried to push him aside. He went flying through the man, didn’t even cause the guy’s perfect hair to stir.
This was no good. He was losing steps that he’d gained. “Here, let me help you,” Cub said, wrapping his hand around Gemma’s upper arm, his fingers way too close to the sides of her breast that the tiny scraps of material barely covered. Damn the man, he brushed the exposed globe of goodness with a slight caress of his index finger. Lucky couldn’t really fault him, but how he wanted to gut him on the tiled surface of the pool for touching his woman.
Yeah, this was hell.
He didn’t like seeing another man’s hand on his Gemma. He’d never been the jealous sort. Back to that free-living lifestyle. And he didn’t like feeling this way at all.
It was cruel. Torture. He wanted to return to his spirit prison. That would be better than watching Gemma enjoy another man’s touch. He didn’t miss the goose bumps or the becoming blush of her skin at Cub’s smooth maneuver.
Gemma climbed into the kayak, and with a push from Cub, slid into the water of the pool. Lucky watched with awe at her form as she paddled across the water, getting to the deep end and rolling the kayak. Wow, the woman was skillful. What else did she like to do? So far, he’d mainly been concerned with how she liked to be touched. Did that make him some sort of ass? Or pervert?
Of course it did.
Cub slid his kayak into the water and quickly caught up to Gemma with a few powerful strokes. Now Lucky was in awe of the power the man possessed just in his shoulders. He missed pitting himself against what nature had to offer. Granted there wasn’t a lot of nature here in the Hamme Pool, but it wasn’t a stretch to see how both Gemma and Cub would perform in the outdoors paddling down the world class rapids of the Nenana River.
Wild Men of Alaska Collection Page 17
