Phoenix (Own The Skies Book 2)

by Emma Nichole

  “Wow. I could take that to very inappropriate places, but I’ll refrain because I hate nuts too. Peanut butter is amazing, obviously, but not just plain nuts. Gross.”

  “Not all nuts. Our time together has proven that.” He smirks.

  “Oh God.” I swat his arm, laughing. “You’re disgusting.”

  “Disgusting, maybe, but I’m fucking charming and delightful.”

  “You’re something all right.” I lean back against the tree. “Thank you for bringing me here. It’s beautiful.”

  “You’re thanking me for spending time with you, you are aware of that, right?” He leans back with me, so we are face-to-face again.

  “I am aware of that, yes, and I’ll keep doing it. I came to Savannah to decompress and you’re helping me do that, so thank you.”

  “And what will happen when you’re fully decompressed?” he asks, cupping my cheek in his hand.

  I unconsciously lean into his touch, nuzzling into his palm. His skin is so warm and so soft, yet rough and strong at the same time. He’s the perfect mix.

  “When I’m fully decompressed, I’ll go back home.” I hate the words even as they leave my lips.

  I close my eyes when I hear him sigh, and then I feel him press his lips to my forehead before finally speaking. “Then I guess we should enjoy this decompression time while we have it, yeah?”

  I nod. “Yeah, we should.”

  “Come home with me tonight? We can order dinner.”

  “Actually...I have an even better idea,” I say with a grin.

  “I cannot believe I let you talk me into this,” Case says, as we approach Johnson Square to meet the other parties for a ghost tour.

  “Stop being a big baby. I needed someone to go with, and since I won’t have sex with you again until we go...” I say with a squeeze of his hand.

  “Take that back. That’s just mean.”

  “I will not. Look, I’ve always wanted to take a ghost tour. You’re going and you’re going to like it or else,” I tell him, jokingly.

  “You’re lucky I enjoy fucking you,” he says.

  “Yes, yes I am.”

  We approach the square where our tour guide is waiting for us.

  It’s dark out, obviously, as it is 11:00 p.m., and Savannah is oddly quiet. You can hear the cicadas singing in the wind. It’s beautiful. Peaceful.

  “Are you here for the tour?” the young man with a black shirt and black beanie on asks.

  “We are.” I give him my name so he can get us checked in.

  “All right, perfect,” he says. “Let’s get this show on the road, shall we?”

  I squeeze Case’s hand in excitement. “Yes, we shall.”

  We stand with a group of six others, a family of four and a couple, and listen as the tour guide gives us the history of Johnson Square.

  “As I’m sure you’ve noticed, Savannah is essentially covered in Spanish moss. Everywhere you look, you can see it dangling from trees. If you take a look around Johnson Square, however, you’ll notice that it’s essentially void of any and all Spanish moss.”

  I glance around as he talks, and he’s right. There’s none here at all. Odd.

  I slide my arm through Case’s and lean in closer to him as we keep listening.

  “Legend has it, American Revolutionary War hero, Major General Nathaneal Greene despised the stuff because it reminded him of his grandfather’s beard. Sounds like some intense family drama there, if you ask me.”

  The small group we reside in laughs, as does Case. I can feel the throaty vibrations with my cheek pressed into his shoulder.

  “Why would his hatred matter, you ask? Well, it just so happens that the Major General’s remains are buried right here, beneath this monument.”

  He points to the large, vertical monument just to our left. It’s essentially two feet from us. I instinctively step away from it, causing Case to laugh again.

  “A little spooked, Phoenix?” he whispers into my ear.

  “Not at all. Nope.” I shake my head.

  “Liar.”

  The tour continues as we walk around all of the historic district of the city. We are told tales of slavery, ghosts, murders, conspiracies, and more. It’s truly fascinating. I knew the city had its share of history, but I had no idea just how much.

  Case is enjoying himself too. I can see it. I can feel it, and that makes me incredibly happy. He gave me a lot of shit for wanting to do something so “touristy,” but I know he was excited to bring me.

  We round a corner and approach a darkened alley that apparently has some kind of sordid history. It instantly gives me the icky vibes. It’s too dark, too secluded, and everyone seems a bit more tense, though I’m sure that is the point. This is a ghost tour, after all.

  I look around the alley as the guide talks us through each subject, taking in the cobblestone and brick. It’s beautiful on the surface, but the vibe is all off.

  A flash of light catches my attention to my right, and I see a man standing there, leaning against the wall. He just lit a cigarette, and he’s just watching us.

  Case seems to sense him too, because he slides his arm around me and pulls me in tighter to his side. The way he’s staring is just…creepy.

  I try to ignore his eyes on me and focus on the stories, but I can’t seem to shake it. I glance back toward him and he’s still staring, puffing his cigarette.

  He is dressed in ripped blue jeans and a white wifebeater style tank top with messy hair. He gives off the textbook creeper aura, and I internally urge the guide to rush through this portion so we can move on.

  I feel Case lean down and speak against my ear, “You okay?”

  He must feel how tense I am. “Mmm hmm. I’m okay.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yes. I’m sure.”

  He kisses the top of my head then returns to a normal, standing position.

  I focus my attention back on the guide as he finishes his speech. “This area is known for activity being caught on camera, so please, feel free to take a few moments to take pictures and see if you catch any spooks.” He steps back as the small group disperses, taking photos with their phones.

  My nerves force me to look back over where the man was standing, and he’s nowhere to be found. Thank God. Maybe he got bored and just moved on.

  I know you’re not supposed to judge books by their covers, but the way he was staring at us just wasn’t okay. It was predatory.

  I release a breath, suddenly feeling silly for being so worried when a voice breaks through the night, sending a chill up my spine.

  “If it isn’t The Officer Carmichael.”

  Case and I both turn around and spot the man in the wifebeater, who is now on the other side of us.

  “Can I help you?” Case asks, stepping slightly in front of me.

  “Is this what you do when you’re not being a fucking dirty pig? Taking sexy as fuck blondes out on the town?” He puffs away at his cigarette, blowing the smoke right in my face.

  “Watch what the fuck you say, man. I don’t know who you are, or what the hell you want, but you’re going to walk away. Now.” Case steps up and closer to him.

  I grip his arm and tug back. “Case, stop. Just don’t engage. Please.”

  “Most pigs don’t remember the innocent men they toss in jail for no reason.” He flips the cigarette toward us and it bounces off my chest before hitting the ground.

  I jump back a little and rapidly wipe my chest. It didn’t even burn me, but Case reacts all the same.

  It all happens in slow motion.

  Case bursts toward the man and grabs him by the shirt, shoving him back against the brick wall.

  “Don’t you ever disrespect her like that again, do you hear me, you piece of shit? Never. I’ll end you where you stand,” he growls.

  “Case! Stop!” I rush forward and grab his arm, pulling him back. “Let go. Stop it!”

  The other people in our group have obviously taken notice of the issue and a
re forming a circle around us.

  Two men, the guide and another guy, try to pull Case away from the man.

  “You see that! Everyone look and pay attention! Police brutality at its finest. This man attacks me in the street and wears a badge,” the crazy man shouts into the air.

  “Case! There are children here. Please…let him go and leave with me,” I beg when he finally looks at me.

  He pauses a beat before giving the man a final slam before releasing him.

  As soon as the situation appears to be under control, my anger sets in and I turn on my heel, stalking away from the area and down the street, leaving the tour behind.

  “Nora!” I hear him call after me, but I keep walking, tears forming in my eyes. “Nora!”

  I wipe the tears from my cheeks and finally stop when I hear his steps approaching me from behind.

  I whip around to face him, shoving him back with both hands. “Why would you do something so stupid?” I shove him again. “He could have had a knife! Or a gun! Or anything, Case! Stop putting yourself in situations you don’t need to be in!”

  “What did you want me to do? The things he was saying and what he did to you, I should have pummeled him into the ground.”

  “Why? I don’t need you to be my hero, Case! He was a drunk asshole. That’s all, and he clearly knew you, so he was trying to get a reaction. Congrats. You gave him just that.” I try to leave again, but he grabs me by the arm to stop me.

  “It’s a small city, Phoenix. I run into people I’ve arrested all the time. He clearly has issues with me and with authority in general. I needed to put myself between you because you never know what someone like that is capable of.”

  I pull my arm away from his touch. “Exactly. That’s my point exactly. You could have been hurt or killed.”

  “I can’t live in fear and do my job.”

  “Protecting me isn’t your job.” I cross my arms over my chest. “Just don’t put yourself in the middle like that anymore if you don’t have to, okay?”

  I can’t handle the thought of something happening to him all in the effort to protect me.

  “I won’t make that promise. It’s not the man I am.”

  I know. That’s the problem.

  Case

  “Can we please just pretend like this didn’t happen? I don’t want to taint my last days here.” She takes a breath and wipes the tears from her face.

  I don’t want her to regret any part of her time with me, so I step forward, cup her face in my hands, and kiss her lips softly. “Sure.

  We take the walk back toward my truck in near silence, but her hand is clasped in mine. That is enough to let me know we are at least okay enough that she isn’t going to disappear on me.

  Savannah is surprisingly quite at night for a tourist town. It’s one of my favorite things about it. If people are out, they are in the bars, and when they spill onto the street, the noise doesn’t follow.

  “Do you feel like having a drink with me?” I ask. “There’s this little Irish pub around the corner with excellent craft beers.” She laughs and it makes my lips turn up in a grin. “What’s so funny?”

  “I don’t peg you as a craft beer kind of guy. That’s so…California.”

  “What kind of guy do you peg more for, then?”

  “Tennessee whiskey. Straight up. You like the burn.” She looks up at me and the moon lights up one side of her face.

  “That’s scary.”

  “What?”

  “That you knew that. I hate beer, but you’re from SoCal. I figured that was the way to your heart.”

  She rolls her eyes and I love it. “Let’s get this drink.”

  “Want another?” I ask as she finishes her Jack and Coke.

  The bar is quiet tonight. The TV on the wall beside us is tuned to the Weather Channel. I can hear vague discussion of a hurricane brewing in the Atlantic, but my full attention is squarely on the woman in front of me.

  “If I have another, I’ll end up on the floor, and there is nothing sexy about that.” She giggles then chomps down on a piece of ice. She feels more relaxed, I can tell. Two drinks will do that to a lightweight. Her cheeks are flushed a glorious red, much like they are when we have sex.

  “You’re staring,” she adds, pulling me from my thoughts.

  “Of course, I am. Hard not to.” I take another sip of the one drink I’m still nursing. “Beauty should be admired.”

  “Was that a line?” She crosses her arms and leans back in her chair.

  “Are you biting?”

  “I do sometimes. Only if it’s just that good,” she purrs quietly with a sexy grin. “So,” she announces loudly. “What was with that guy in the alley?”

  The abrupt subject change makes my head spin. I assume I have the alcohol to thank for her line of questioning.

  “I wish I had an answer that was satisfying. I see a lot of people, make a lot of arrests, Nora. From the looks of him, and the way he was acting, he’s a career offender with little respect for the men in blue.”

  “So what? He just decided to act out because he saw you?”

  “He was lit. High as a kite. His pupils were the size of pinheads and I could smell beer on his breath. He took his anger out on us because I’m sure I’ve crossed his path in the line of duty. It happens more than you think.”

  “Do you always stick yourself in the middle like that? Aren’t you scared?” She leans closer, reaching across the table to touch my arm.

  “No, honestly, I’m not. I’ve felt real fear in my life. I know what it’s like, and with my job, I’m in ultimate control. That helps keep me from being afraid.”

  She shakes her head at my response. “It’s just too dangerous.”

  “Arya keeps me safe too. She’d maul anyone who tried to hurt me.”

  “She can’t stop a knife…or a bullet.” She stares into my eyes with genuine concern.

  “And I have to protect those who can’t protect themselves. That’s my job.”

  I watch her shoulders rise and fall. Her eyes are hiding a million thoughts and questions, but she doesn’t share any of them.

  She checks her phone before placing it back in her purse. “It’s getting late.”

  “Yeah.” I lay a few bills on the tabletop. “Come on, let’s get back to the truck.”

  She stands then holds her arms out to balance herself. “Whoa. I think I’m drunk.”

  I laugh. “Lightweight.” I wrap my arm around her. “Lean into me. I’ve got you.”

  She leans her head into my shoulder. “You smell good.”

  “Thanks. You smell pretty good, too.”

  “I’m going to have so much sex with you tonight.”

  I just smile. We both know she’ll be asleep before we even hit the first stoplight.

  And that is perfect to me.

  Her presence is enough to keep me satisfied.

  Chapter 18

  Nora

  Case: Meet me for lunch. My house. I’ll bring you dessert too.

  Me: Do I seem like the kind of girl who just drops everything for a man?

  Case: For my cock? Yes.

  Me: You’re lucky I’m horny, otherwise I’d blow you off just on principle.

  Case: Ha. Blow you.

  Me: You’re such an ass.

  Case: Be there in forty-five. Don’t wear panties.

  Me: So bossy.

  I quickly fire up my rideshare app and order a ride.

  My ride will be here in fifteen minutes. Perfect.

  I set off like a whirlwind in my bedroom to do everything I can in that amount of time.

  I throw off my clothes and shimmy into a flowy purple maxi skirt and gray tank top, forgoing panties, as per his request. I stop and do a mental checklist before I head out.

  Brush teeth? Check.

  Deodorant? Check.

  Body spray all over including the important parts? Check.

  Hair tousled to look effortless like I didn’t try, but I totally did? Check
.

  My phone vibrates, letting me know my ride is outside. Perfect timing.

  I head down, telling Amelia I’m going into town to have drinks with someone I met while I was on the beach the other day, and then I’m off.

  He’s waiting for me outside on his front porch when I arrive, dressed in his uniform. I’ve never seen him in his uniform before. My body responds instantly with moisture pooling between my thighs. I squeeze them together tightly.

  I climb out of the car as he walks down the front steps to greet me.

  “You look pretty,” he says.

  “So do you. Who knew I’d find the uniform so sexy?” I touch his chest. “I like it.”

  He slides his hands from my shoulders, up to my neck and jaw. His thumbs come to rest right under my chin and tip my head back, presenting my lips to him.

  “I’ve wanted to taste you all day.” He leans forward and kisses me so softly, it’s like it never happened. It’s enough to pull a purr from my greedy lips and a whine when he pulls away. “We only have an hour, and I’m going to enjoy every goddamn second of it.”

  The minute the front door closes behind us, he spins around, pressing me back against the wood with my arms pinned above my head, sliding his nose along my cheek.

  “We aren’t having lunch, are we?” I ask, shifting my hips toward him, searching for any type of friction I can find.

  “Baby, you are my lunch,” he growls before capturing my lips once again.

  I feel his hands slide down from their place on my wrists, over my arms and sides and around to grab my ass, lifting me from the ground. My legs wrap around his body like they were always meant to be there.

  He carries me across the house and sits me on the kitchen table.

  “Lie back.”

  I oblige without question, fanning my hair back with my hands and lying down on the cool wood surface.

  “Christ, look at you.” He is speaking softly, as if he is just talking to himself. “You’re fucking perfect.”

  “No, I’m not. Not even close, but you make me feel like I am.” I slide my hands up to cup my own breasts through my tank top.