Darn it. How could one man be so handsome?
"No," she said.
He smirked.
Finally, Gideon pulled into a large clearing. The vehicle bounced over the grass, sending her flailing. While keeping one hand on the steering wheel, Gideon placed his hand on her arm to steady her. For once, she didn't loathe his touch. In fact, she liked it. His palm was warm and his grip was tight. She could imagine the way he'd hold onto her as he leaned in for a kiss.
Stop it, Nora! she screamed at herself inside her mind.
She sucked in air as Gideon stopped the truck. She was still under the man's spell. That was the only explanation for her perverted behavior. She squirmed in her seat, wringing her hands. What was she supposed to do? This wasn't real. It couldn't be. She normally didn't like Gideon touching her in any way. Yet here she was, sitting next to him in the middle of a clearing and accepting her circumstances.
She was desperate for some normalcy and tried to initiate conversation again.
"Gideon, I don't know how we ended up here," she said, trying to ignore his bulging biceps.
"We drove." Gideon raised an eyebrow at her.
"Stop with the sarcasm." She rolled her eyes.
"Can I ever stop with the sarcasm?" he asked.
This was the man she knew and hated. Or maybe she didn't hate him exactly. Maybe he was alright in a gorgeous, irritating kind of way. Wait, what? she thought. Suddenly, she couldn't breathe.
"Stay here," he said, disrupting her thoughts.
"Why?" She didn't want to be left alone. Her own mind was frightening her.
"I have to get everything set up," he said.
"Set up?" She raised an eyebrow. "What are you talking about?"
"You'll see." Gideon gave her a small smile and hopped out of the truck.
Once Gideon was out of sight, she shook her head to clear it, but it didn't work. Heat curled in her belly, making her weak against her own urges. She blamed Gideon for the state she was in. It was a mystery how he managed to be so seductive time and time again.
As she sighed in self-disgust, she heard rhythmic thuds in the back of the truck. There was a loud bang, a grunt from Gideon, and then the man walked to the passenger side door. He's coming for me, she thought, wringing her hands. He opened the door for her and held out his hand.
"Milady," he said.
She wrinkled her nose but took his hand.
When she slid out of the truck, she realized how close the two of them were. If he so much as moved an inch, he'd be pushing her against the side of the vehicle. Beads of sweat broke out on her forehead while butterflies rocketed around her stomach. Gideon glanced down at her lips and his tongue slid to the corner of his mouth.
A groan almost escaped her lips. How had she managed to stay away from him for so long? The man was as sexy and as wild as they came. He was also forbidden. She didn't know why he was forbidden exactly—it wasn't like he had a sign that said 'do not touch' taped to his forehead—but there was something about his demeanor that told her lusting after him was a naughty thing to do. She wasn't a type of person who enjoyed being naughty. Okay, she'd once stolen a raw chicken and stuck it in her foster mom's mailbox. And yeah, she'd snuck into a teacher's classroom on the last day of high school and stapled random papers together. Those things weren't overly naughty, were they? No, she decided. She was a good girl.
The problem with Gideon was that he made even good girls feel like giving being bad a try.
As she started to pant, she realized she had to put some space between her and Gideon. The close proximity was making her go crazy. Well, crazier than normal, anyway.
"Gideon," she said.
"Uh-huh?" Gideon placed his hand by the side of her head.
"What are we doing?" She was eager to escape this position as fast as possible. When the word naughty entered her mind more than once, she knew she was in trouble.
"That's a good question." Gideon's eyes flickered toward her mouth again.
When she didn't say anything more, he stepped back. She sighed, though she wasn't one hundred percent sure whether that was due to relief or disappointment. At the moment, she was feeling a bit of both.
Gideon seized her hand and pulled her to the back of the pickup. He'd laid a red blanket on the bed of the truck and a stereo was on, playing music so soft it was barely audible.
"Is this all for me?" she asked.
"No, it's for my cousin, Susan," he said.
"Hardy har har." She rolled her eyes.
She may have given a mocking fake laugh, but she was grateful that Gideon was being sarcastic. After all, the heat that coursed through her was blistering. She needed a distraction from her feelings. If that distraction was sarcasm, then so be it.
"Do you need help climbing up?" Gideon's eyes flickered toward the bed of the truck.
Help? Heck no. She was Nora Williams. She could climb with the best of them…Well, okay, maybe not with the best of them, but she could climb.
She tried to clamber onto the truck bed. A lot of grunting and sweating later, she finally managed to scramble up. It had been a lot harder than she thought. Chuckling in amusement, Gideon climbed up with a lot more grace. As he sat beside her, she found herself watching him yet again.
His dark hair hung in his face and his caramel eyes glowed despite how dark the night was. She'd never realized it before, but there was something unnatural about Gideon's handsomeness. He looked almost inhuman. Even his faults—his nose was a tad crooked and his adam's apple was a bit too pronounced—only heightened the allure of his impossible good looks. It was near impossible to look at Gideon without feeling an electric current pulsing through her veins.
Just as she was about to look up at the sky—it would make a great distraction—the other man turned his head and made eye contact with her. She was gone, floating in a sea of decadent caramel. It was his eyes that made him near impossible to resist. They were like the desserts she so loved—they tempted her, telling her to give in. Suddenly, she was so sweaty that her black t-shirt clung to her body. As she chewed her bottom lip, Gideon stroked her cheek. His thumb was warm and large.
This is wrong, a voice whispered in her head.
Yet as wrong as it was, she found herself shutting her eyes when the other man leaned closer. When his lips brushed hers, heat the likes of which she'd never felt before rushed through her veins. His mouth was warm and gentle against hers. She realized he was testing the waters, making sure she wasn't going to hit him. For a second her hand twitched as she had the fleeting urge to do so, but when he deepened the kiss, her arm fell slack at her side.
The man tasted like chocolate. And not just cheap, crappy chocolate. Oh no, he tasted like the good stuff; the kind that she special ordered from France for occasions like her birthday. How could anyone resist a man who tasted like chocolate? She groaned against his lips, opening her mouth wider if only to taste him more. That was all the incentive that Gideon needed to stop being gentle.
In a display of full male power, Gideon pushed her down onto the blanket. She gasped in shock. How the heck had she ended up on her back so fast? Before she could say or do anything more, Gideon's mouth covered hers again. This time, his lips were rough and demanding. His kiss, more glorious than any she'd experienced before, dripped with passion. Between the taste of chocolate and the fierce, all-consuming power of his embrace, she was left completely breathless.
Was this how kisses were supposed to feel? When she'd kissed Kevin, Tyler, and Robert, she'd felt disgusted. Kevin's lips had been wet and his tongue had slapped against her cheek. She'd half wondered whether he was doing a Mr. Fleas interpretation. Then there had been Tyler. The man had been sucking on her bottom lip more than kissing. Not a great experience. And kissing Robert would always be wrong. He was simply not boyfriend material.
But this was not disgusting or wrong. In fact, it was so, so right.
She found herself digging her fingers into Gideon's back, loving the way hi
s hard chest pressed against her own. When he kissed her, he did so with his whole body. Beneath the weight of his form, she felt immobilized in the most wonderful of ways. He was all power, all masculine heat and intensity, which she discovered she wanted a lot more than she'd realized. And his mouth! Good grief, the man knew how to use his mouth. As his lips brushed over hers, she found herself writhing, half fearing she was going to float away due to the pleasure of it all.
That was when Gideon pulled back and grinned down at her.
"Wake up now," Gideon said.
"Huh?" She blinked stupidly.
"Wake up."
Nora awoke with a gasp, clutching her chest. At first she couldn't figure out what was going on. There had been an awful lot of kissing, a little groping, and then…
"Wake up now." Gideon's voice echoed in her mind.
She'd dreamed about Gideon. And it hadn't been just any dream. She'd dreamed he was kissing her—and she'd liked it.
"No, I don't want to kiss Gideon!" She gasped in horror.
Mr. Fleas, who'd been sleeping on the bed, leapt to his feet and gave her the dirtiest look she'd ever seen. In her half crazed state, she felt like the dog was judging her. Even though she knew that the only one judging her was herself, she couldn't shake off her paranoia. She started to rock back and forth, trying to get her bearings straight.
"A nightmare," she said. "Yeah, it was just a nightmare."
But nightmares weren't supposed to feel so good.
As she let out a groan, she tried to use logic in order to soothe herself. First off, it wasn't that surprising she'd dreamed about Gideon. The man was gorgeous. Even she, who wanted to keep him at arm's length, couldn't deny that. Also, he was pursuing her. Last night, he'd been on her mind when she went to bed because of his phone call. It was only natural that she'd have some sort of dream about him. It wasn't like she could control the way she felt when she was asleep anyway. Just because she dreamed about kissing Gideon didn't mean she liked the guy or anything. It just meant that she was a human being capable of being attracted to somebody. As long as she didn't make a move in real life, she would be fine.
With a groan, she tried to sleep again. Unfortunately, the moment she closed her eyes, she imagined Gideon's face looming closer. Her eyes snapped open.
"Stop it." She flailed in bed. "I'm not a pervert."
The next-door neighbor, Henry, pounded on the wall. The man had heard her. As her blood ran cold, she buried her face in her hands. The last thing she wanted was for the neighbor to think she was a raging pervert. Clamping her hand over her mouth in self-disgust, she shook her head and retreated to the bathroom. She was going to punish herself with a freezing shower and then she was going to watch crappy TV until dawn to get her mind off of her dream.
****
At three o'clock in the morning, Nora's eyelids were heavy, but she refused to let herself fall asleep again. She couldn't risk having another dream about Gideon. Icky spiders, spooky ghosts, and bloody zombies were less frightening than the thought of Gideon pressing his mouth against hers. She shivered in horror and shook her head. No, she wouldn't let herself sleep again. At least, not tonight.
As she gnashed her teeth, Chubby hopped onto the couch at her side. Mr. Fleas was nowhere to be seen, but she was ninety-nine percent sure he was snoring on the bed. While she watched TV, she petted the fat feline. The cat was furry, soft, and cold…Wait a second, cold? She leapt to her feet and looked down. Chubby stared up at her with a prideful gleam in his eyes. Between his front paws was a dead rat that she was pretty sure she'd just been petting.
As she gasped in horror, she grasped the couch to keep herself from falling over.
"Not a rat," she said.
Chubby cocked his head, appearing offended that she didn't accept his disgusting gift with cries of joy.
"Gross, gross, gross, gross." She squirmed in disgust.
She rushed into the kitchen, tempted to chop off her own hand. After all, she'd just been petting a dead rat. The thing was probably more diseased than Gideon. Since she decided against self-mutilation, she scourged her skin until her fingers ached. After she'd cleaned her hands a good twenty times—her fingertips had even started to wrinkle—she decided she wasn't going to contract a deadly disease. Unfortunately, now she had to take care of the corpse.
Grimacing, she seized a wad of paper towels and inched toward the living room as if the dead animal might rise and attack. Using the napkin, she grabbed the cold rat by the tail and whimpered. How had Chubby managed to catch the rodent anyway? He was so fat he could barely fit in his litter box, let alone manage to hunt down another creature.
With a sigh, she trudged to the kitchen and wrapped the carcass in six plastic bags. After she was certain that there would be no skin-to-corpse contact on the journey to the dumpster, her shoulders slumped in relief. Didn't Chubby know that a dead rat wasn't exactly the best present to give to a lady?
Feeling her stomach curl in disgust, she headed for the door. The moment she wrapped her fingers around the knob, a loud yelp came from behind her followed by an angry hiss. She whirled around, her eyes wide, just as Mr. Fleas charged out of the bedroom as fast as his legs could carry him. Loud yelps burst from his mouth as he rushed into the living room.
The hair on the back of her neck stood on end. Not this again. What the heck is going on? The rat slipped from her fingers and hit the floor. She ran into the living room just in time to watch Mr. Fleas snarl in rage. The dog may have been tiny, but he was channeling the fierceness of a beast ten times his size. The Chihuahua leapt in front of her, growling at something in the corner she couldn't see. It was almost like he was trying to protect her.
As the dog's lips curled back over his tiny white teeth, she heard a deep, guttural growl come from Chubby. The cat's fur stood on end, making his fat body appear even fatter. The feline's ears were back as he watched something a foot away from her with his eyes narrowed.
The thing that frightened her more than the dog's loud barking and the cat's alarmed yowl was the fact that both creatures were staring at the same corner. It wasn't like animals could say to one another, "Hey, let's freak out our human by pretending to see something we don't." No, both Chubby and Mr. Fleas were frightened of the same thing. And now she was too.
It was a strange feeling to fear something invisible. She wondered if it was crazy that she was so scared tears threatened to burst from her eyes. I have to get Mr. Fleas and Chubby out of here. Maybe she could have escaped by herself, but her animals were like her children. If there was something in this apartment to be frightened of, then she sure as heck wasn't going to leave Mr. Fleas and Chubby inside with it.
"Come here, Mr. Fleas," she said.
Mr. Fleas was hopping back and forth, his ears pinned to his head as he growled. He paid no attention to her.
"Mr. Fleas, come," she cried.
When she took a step forward to grab Mr. Fleas, the dog darted out of her reach and charged at the corner. Several events happened in quick succession—a shadow darted across the wall, a picture fell off the desk with a thud, and then everything grew still. Mr. Fleas let out one last yap and then shook himself off, his sides covered in sweat. Chubby let out a frightened mew and headed over to her, his orange eyes wide.
She felt sick to her stomach. It was near impossible to fathom what had just happened. Maybe the shadow was a figment of my imagination, she thought hopefully. She knew full well what her imagination was capable of when she was all alone in the dark. After seeing something scary, she was often plagued by her own mind gone berserk. She'd spend the night in bed, convinced she was about to be beamed into an alien ship or slaughtered by a masked murderer. She hoped what she'd just seen, like her other horrible imaginings, was all in her mind.
Yeah, right.
The evidence of what had happened was right in front of her. The picture that had been knocked down still lay on the floor. Chubby was standing beside her, meowing in a distressed way that was un
like him. Mr. Fleas was no longer attacking the invisible force, but he looked like he was on his guard in case the intruder came back. Something had happened, no matter how much she wished to deny it.
I should call Robert, she thought, then froze mid-step. No, she couldn't call him. It was almost like…like…she'd seen a ghost or something. If she tried to explain that to Robert, he'd think she'd gone insane. While she would rather blame what she'd witnessed on her own insanity—anything was better than the invisible presence being real—that wasn't possible.
With her stomach churning, she slid down the wall and fought down the urge to cry. Her entire adult life, she'd never minded being on her own. She'd always been able to handle herself just fine. But now, she was scared—and she realized just how horrifying having nobody to turn to could really be.
Chapter Eight
That afternoon, Nora sat in front of her laptop, drumming her fingers on her desk. Mr. Fleas was gnawing on a large bone she'd bought him because of his bravery. Who knew that her small, quivering Chihuahua had the heart of a lion? Since Chubby couldn't be left out, the cat had received a bunch of kitty treats. Even now, the fat feline sat on her bed, chewing hungrily as he stared at her. Despite their rewards, both animals seemed on edge. It was just as well. She was on edge too.
"Okay." Nora chewed her bottom lip and opened her laptop. "Just because I do research on what I saw doesn't mean I believe in any of this paranormal stuff, right?"
She wasn't sure who she was directing her question to, Mr. Fleas or Chubby. Either way, Chubby blinked twice and Mr. Fleas stopped gnawing on his bone long enough to lick her ankle. She was going to take that as an affirmative.
As her jaw tensed, she went to a search engine and typed, 'Black shadow, seeing things, and animals being frightened.' Sure enough, she had zillions of results. A couple of links were comical. One website even suggested that she had a gnome living in her closet. Luckily, she managed to find a resource with less iffy information. She clicked the website link and saw information dedicated to demonic hauntings. Normally, she would have laughed, but after what she'd witnessed last night, she was accosted by chills. She read through the first page and chewed her bottom lip.
Tempting Nora Page 9
