Fully Engulfed: BBW Paranormal Romance (Scruples Book 3)

by Ditter Kellen

  She held on to that headboard for dear life, riding out the powerful orgasm rolling through her with an ecstasy that ripped a cry from her throat.

  Somewhere in the midst of her mind-numbing pleasure, she heard Utah’s shout, felt his warm seed enter her body as he shuddered above her.

  Long moments passed before Michelle could form a coherent thought. She let her fingers fall away from their hold on the headboard and opened her eyes.

  Utah stared down at her with a shuttered look she couldn’t seem to read.

  “That was incredible,” she whispered, attempting to gauge his thoughts.

  Still, he didn’t speak.

  Insecurity began to settle inside her. Had she done something wrong? “Utah?”

  He let go of the bar he held and settled down over her to rest on his elbows. “I’m scared of losing this. Of losing what I feel when I’m with you.”

  Michelle’s heart lurched. No matter how much she might wish it to be otherwise, Utah wasn’t alive. He was a spirit, who for reasons she didn’t quite understand, was able to interact with her. But for how long? How long before he found his way and left her forever?

  “I know,” she managed to say around the lump in her throat. “But neither of us knows what will happen or what the future holds. We have to make the most of what time we do have together.”

  Strange how she’d gone from wishing he’d leave her alone to hoping he didn’t leave anytime soon in such a short time. And looking up at him now, she realized the danger she was in of losing her heart.

  Utah lowered his head, resting his forehead against hers. He gently brushed a kiss across her lips and then slowly pulled from her depths.

  Michelle held perfectly still as he rolled off her to lie on his back. She lay there for several heartbeats before rising and donning her robe. “I’ll be right back.”

  Utah nodded, throwing an arm across his face.

  Leaving the bedroom, Michelle made her way to the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

  She leaned back against the cool wood for a moment before trailing over to the sink and turning on the water.

  After splashing some of the cool liquid onto her face, she switched it off and gazed at her reflection in the mirror.

  Her lips were pink and kiss swollen, a testament to Utah’s ministrations. He wasn’t simply some spirit or figment of her imagination. He was real to her, and the evidence of that realness stared back at her in the form of a well-loved face.

  Michelle took care of her needs, washed her hands, and returned to the bedroom to find Utah gone.

  Her heartbeat kicked up a notch. “Utah?”

  He appeared behind her. “I’m here.”

  Michelle started, spinning around to face him. “You have got to stop doing that.”

  The corner of his mouth lifted, giving him a boyish look. “Or you’ll what?”

  “Very funny. What were you doing?”

  “Letting Peanut out to do his business,” he replied with a twinkle in his eye.

  Strange how Utah remained in a form that she could see and touch, Michelle thought, her gaze wandering down his sexy nude body. Yet no one else could see him. Or could they?

  “A penny for your thoughts,” he murmured, the insecurity back in his eyes.

  Michelle turned and crawled back in bed. “I was just thinking how bizarre this all is.”

  His expression grew guarded. “Do you want me to leave?”

  Did she? She shook her head. Though her mind told her to put some distance between them, her heart conveyed a different story. “I should. But I don’t.”

  Relief shone in his eyes. He rounded the foot of the bed and climbed in beside her.

  Michelle turned on her side to face him. “I believe that you’re here for a reason. I don’t know what that reason is, but I’ll do my best to help you figure it out.”

  “Then what?” he whispered, his eyes glittering in the moonlight spilling through the window behind her bed. “I’m not sure I’m ready for the answer. But mostly, I’m not ready to leave you.”

  Butterflies erupted inside her at his words. “You can’t say things like that, Utah. You can’t just remain here forever. There will come a day when you’ll have to leave. It may be a year from now, or tomorrow. Then what? What happens to me after you’re gone?”

  A pained look passed over his face before it slipped into an emotionless mask. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have come here. This can’t end well for either of us, and—”

  “I don’t regret giving myself to you,” Michelle blurted, cutting off his words.

  She grabbed hold of his hand to prevent him from rising. “Don’t go. Not yet.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Utah fairly choked on the emotions warring inside him. He knew Michelle was right. He would eventually have to leave her. The more time they spent together, the harder it would be to walk away when the time came. And that day would come. Of that, he had no doubt.

  He reached out and laid his palm against her cheek. “You’re right. I don’t want to hurt you. I’ll leave in the morning.”

  Michelle took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. “It’s for the best. Isn’t it?”

  Utah wasn’t so sure. He only knew that the longer he stayed, the harder it would be to leave her in the end. “Let’s not think about it right now. We have the rest of the night together, and I don’t want to waste it talking about things we have no control over. I’d rather spend it making love to you.”

  And just like that, Michelle pushed him onto his back and proceeded to do exactly that.

  * * * *

  Utah awoke to the morning sun seeping through the blinds behind his head. He gazed over at Michelle’s sleeping form, loving the way the light sparkled through her hair.

  He would miss her something fierce, he silently admitted, watching her eyes dance around behind her closed lids.

  “Goodbye, beautiful Michelle,” he whispered, an ache forming in his chest.

  He watched for long moments, branding her face into his memory. He never wanted to forget even the smallest of details. Like the tiny scar on her chin or the way her long dark lashes rested on her cheeks as she slept.

  Taking an uneven breath, Utah closed his eyes and willed himself back to the shipyard. The only other place besides Michelle’s side where he felt even a modicum of peace.

  The familiar sounds of the shipyard met his ears the moment he appeared beneath his favorite cypress tree.

  He glanced down at himself, noticing the soot-stained pants of his uniform clinging to his legs.

  The acrid smell of smoke filled his lungs, no matter how much he wished it weren’t so.

  He lowered to his knees beneath the tree, fighting the urge to be sick as the scent of burned flesh rolled up his nostrils.

  He glanced down at his hands, understanding that it wasn’t his burning flesh he smelled, but the flesh of the victims he’d been unable to save.

  He surged to his feet, attempting to recall Michelle’s voice, her words as she’d stripped him bare in her bathroom. “You’re making new memories, now.”

  And he was, he told himself, breathing through the nausea.

  Utah moved forward, determination guiding his steps, until he cleared the shade from the tree and walked into the morning sun.

  He tilted his head back, feeling Michelle’s hands on his body, her fingers in his hair. The sound of her voice in his ear had been his undoing. “Utah…”

  The memory of his name on her lips rolled through him to encircle his heart.

  He concentrated on her voice, replaying it in his mind, learning it and hiding it away to hold inside forever.

  A vision of Michelle on her knees before him flashed through his memories in perfect clarity, wringing a moan of need from his lips.

  “Utah?”

  Utah’s eyes opened, and a different kind of sensation slid through him. One filled with denial and regret.

  He couldn’t return to her, no matter ho
w much he wished to do so. He already missed her more than he should. Going back would only serve to make the inevitable even harder when the time came to say goodbye. And it would come.

  Pushing her voice from his mind, Utah trailed over to the water’s edge to watch a few welders who were hard at work on the hull of a ship.

  They laughed, cursed, and traded insults, completely oblivious to Utah’s presence.

  Utah envied them their lives. He’d give anything in that moment to be a shipyard worker with a pickup truck and a mortgage he couldn’t afford.

  He’d taken life for granted, he realized, unable to take his gaze from the laughing, freshly shaven faces before him. What he wouldn’t give for a second chance to live. And live he would.

  An image of a smiling Michelle invaded his musing. Why couldn’t he have met her before that damnable fire had claimed his life?

  It wouldn’t have mattered, he admitted to himself. Nothing could have stopped him from running into that burning building. Not even Michelle.

  Utah had always wanted to be a fire fighter, even before he was old enough to understand what it entailed. Hell, his entire collection of toys as a child had been made up of fire trucks and ambulances. No, he couldn’t regret his decision to help others, any more than he regretted running into that building to save the people inside. If he had it to do over again, he’d do exactly the same thing.

  Fate had decided when and how he would die. He firmly believed that. Then why was he still here? Hadn’t he given enough?

  The air suddenly grew thick around him, and a strange humming sound invaded his ears.

  Utah’s gaze swung to the rolling waters of Black Creek, and his vision blurred. A soft cry echoed in the distance, barely audible over the insistent sounds of the shipyard.

  He focused on the sound, let it seep inside him until the trees began to spin around him.

  Utah closed his eyes and opened his heart, willing himself through the planes of the unknown.

  “Help,” the soft voice wheezed, pulling Utah out of his trancelike state.

  He stumbled forward on legs that felt too weak to stand, his gaze sweeping the area in rapid succession.

  There, amid a copse of trees, lay a young girl facedown in the grass.

  She wore no clothes, he realized, taking in the ropes that bound her hands and feet.

  “Oh God,” he breathed, rushing forward to help her.

  He dropped to his knees beside her, willed strength into his hands, and rolled her over.

  A blindfold covered her eyes while bruises adorned the rest of her face. She had dried blood on the corner of her mouth as well as caked inside her nose.

  She took a shuddering breath before going completely limp.

  Utah’s heart skipped a beat. He leaned in close, resting his ear above her mouth, relieved to feel her breath tickle his face. She lived, but he wasn’t sure for how much longer.

  He reared back and assessed her injuries. She had a gaping hole in her side that looked to be a gunshot wound. Her legs were scratched up, and her feet were bleeding.

  Probably from being dragged, he mentally growled.

  Gathering every ounce of strength he possessed, Utah went to work on freeing her bonds.

  Sliding an arm beneath her neck, he ran the other under her knees and lifted her against his chest.

  She hung limply in his arms as he attempted to stand.

  His lips peeled back over his teeth, and a roar of sheer determination ripped from his throat as he pushed to his feet and ran.

  Utah wasn’t sure how much time had passed since he’d begun his trek through the woods before he reached a clay road.

  With his strength quickly fading, he stumbled along, refusing to stop until help could be found.

  He rounded a curve and noticed a driveway off to his left.

  Just a few more feet, he repeated to himself, staggering up the drive and stopping at the steps.

  As gently as he could, Utah laid the girl’s battered body in the grass near the bottom step, hovered his finger over the doorbell, and willed it to push.

  The sound of the bell ringing throughout the house was music to his exhausted ears.

  “Just a minute,” someone called, their footsteps moving ever closer.

  The door suddenly opened, and Utah literally sagged in relief as an elderly woman’s face appeared.

  “Oh my God,” the woman gasped, her hand going to her mouth. She jerked the door open, calling over her shoulder as she hurried down the steps. “Call 911!” She dropped to her knees next to the injured girl.

  An elderly man with gray, thinning hair exited the house with phone in hand. “What is— Oh, Lord almighty. Is she alive?”

  Hurrying to her side, the man pulled off his shirt and covered the girl’s nude form.

  Utah watched him attempt to dial 911 several times before the call actually went through.

  A wave of dizziness swept through Utah, blurring his vision and bringing with it the dreaded nausea. If he didn’t get back to the shipyard and soon, he’d be stuck there, an open vessel for the screams.

  It took more than a little effort to find the strength to return to his safe place. Saving a life always drained him that way.

  He focused on the cypress tree, along with the calming sound of the water.

  The ground beneath his feet began to spin, sending him spiraling out of control. His stomach heaved, and the world around him began to gray until he could see no more.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Michelle pulled on her shoes and glanced at the clock. It was almost noon.

  She’d woken around nine that morning to find Utah gone. The only evidence of his existence lay in the tenderness between her thighs.

  They’d made love most of the night, a bittersweet joining of two souls not yet ready to say goodbye.

  Her cell phone rang from its perch on the coffee table. She snatched it up and pressed the Send button. “Hello?”

  “Michelle, it’s Kris. Have you seen the news this morning?”

  A strange foreboding came over Michelle. She plucked up the remote control and switched on the television. “No. What am I looking for?”

  “April has been found,” Kris stated in a hushed tone.

  Michelle assumed Kristin didn’t want to be overheard. “Is she all right? Where’s she been?”

  A brief pause ensued. “No, she isn’t all right. Apparently, she’s been comatose since she managed to wander up to the Hadley place off Ramsey Branch Road.”

  “In Freeport?” Michelle responded in a wooden tone, her mind racing with unanswered questions. “And she didn’t say anything?”

  Kristin quickly explained. “From what I’ve gathered, she’d been badly beaten, assaulted, and shot. The FBI has taken lead on the investigation.”

  Michelle muted the television. “Wait, what?”

  “Yeah. Apparently, April has the same branding marks on her body that Jane Doe had on hers when she washed up in the Choctawhatchee Bay.”

  Michelle stood and meandered over to the window. She flicked her fingers between the blinds, her gaze scanning the street beyond. “Jesus, Kris. What’s April’s prognosis? Is she going to survive?”

  “I don’t know, Michelle. And after everything she’s been through…” Kristin’s voice trailed off.

  Understanding exactly where Kristin’s thoughts lay, Michelle released the blinds and headed toward the door. “Thanks for letting me know about April.”

  “No problem,” Kris returned, ending the call.

  Michelle slowed her steps about halfway across the living room, turning instead toward the kitchen. She double-checked the locks on the back door, then went through the house, securing the window latches, and used her key to engage the deadbolt on the front door on her way out.

  Her skin began to crawl with the feeling of being watched. She hurried to her car, slid behind the wheel, and started the engine.

  The doors automatically locked as she put it in reverse an
d backed out of the drive. She needed to talk with her mother about Utah. Lani would be the only one to understand.

  Five minutes later, Michelle found herself on 331 South, en route to Freeport. She’d bypassed her parents’ a few miles back, deciding instead to look for Utah.

  Michelle told herself that she only wanted to see him to tell him about April. But she knew that to be a lie the moment it entered her mind.

  Entering Freeport, she turned on to Highway 20 and headed toward the shipyard—the one place besides being with Michelle that Utah admitted brought him peace. With any luck, she would find him there. Or at the very least, feel his presence.

  The shipyard was bustling with activity when Michelle pulled over onto the grass and got out.

  She made her way down the uneven incline, her gaze sweeping the area for signs of her ghost. What am I expecting to find, Utah wearing a sheet and rattling some chains?

  Michelle could practically feel dozens of eyes touching on her, and she suddenly felt foolish. It had been a mistake to go in search of Utah. For all she knew, he could be long gone by now.

  She spun back toward her car, keeping her gaze trained on the path in front of her, when something in her peripheral caught her attention.

  A man lay facedown beneath a massive cypress tree, wearing dark blue pants and black boots.

  Firefighter boots, Michelle suddenly realized, veering off in the man’s direction. Utah’s boots.

  Ignoring the strange looks she could feel boring into her back, she hurried over to the cypress tree and dropped to her knees.

  “Utah?” she breathed, touching his handsome face. “Can you hear me?”

  His eyes fluttered open, and he blinked a few times as if clearing his vision. “Michelle?”

  “Yes. Are you okay?”

  “I am now.” A small smile touched his lips, and he rolled to his back. “How did you know I would be here?”

  Michelle glanced back to find that all work had come to a halt and nearly every man at the shipyard stared at her in wide-eyed wonderment. No doubt they thought her daft, kneeling under a tree talking to herself.