“That’s understandable.” She slinked toward him, gliding her fingers across his chest as she brushed past him. “So, your bedroom is this way?”
He caught her hand, tugging her toward him and wrapping his arms around her waist. “It is.”
She rested her hands on his shoulders and leaned back, her gaze drifting from his eyes to his lips. “Will you show it to me?”
His knees nearly buckled at the breathy sound of her voice, and with her hips pressed tightly against his, she must have felt his real answer. “Are you sure you’re ready to see it? It’s only our first date.”
“My notch is already in your bedpost, Blake. We’ll simply be whittling it deeper.” She kissed him, and a flush of heat unfurled in his core, weakening his knees even more. Cupping his face in her hands, she pressed her forehead to his. “Are you up for a little woodwork?”
“The notch you carved was in my heart, not my bedpost, cher. You’ve always meant more than that to me.”
“I know. Me too.” She held his gaze as he tightened his grip on her waist. The intensity in her eyes bore into his soul, deepening the hold she had on him.
She couldn’t possibly understand how much she meant to him after all these years, and he planned to take his time showing her, proving to her that he was worth whatever consequence her visions predicted.
“Right this way then, m’lady.” He gestured grandly to the short hall and followed her toward the bedroom. Pushing the door open, he slipped in behind her and spread his arms. “To the left, you’ll notice my dresser, the drawers filled with my casual apparel. Straight ahead is the closet, where you’ll find my unnecessary collection of suits and other semi-formal attire I may never wear again.”
“Hmm.” She feigned a haughty attitude. “Moving to New Orleans and opening a macabre museum must have been a step down on the social ladder for you.”
“Down or up, depending on your perspective. Personally, I enjoy the casual nature of the new work environment.” He rested his hands on her hips, tugging her closer.
“Do you now?”
“I do. And, if you’ll look to your right, you’ll notice the main attraction, the bed I bought when I moved here. This one is notch-free and ready to be broken in.”
She laughed. “Six months and no notches?
“You’ll be the first and hopefully only.”
She blinked, her lips parting on a quick intake of air.
Dammit. He shouldn’t have said that. Way to go, man. “Too much too soon?”
She opened her mouth to respond, but something on the dresser caught her eye. “Is that…”
He followed her gaze. “Your necklace. Yeah.”
She stepped toward it, tracing her fingers across the surface of the dresser, hesitating to touch the pendant. Her hand hovered above it, her fingers trembling, before she scooped it up and laid it flat in her palm. “I can’t believe you still have this.”
“I have a box in the closet where I keep things that were…are…important to me.”
Her eyes glistened as she looked at him. “After I gave this to you, you always had it on when we were together.”
“I never took it off.”
“And you could read my energy in it? See things I’d done?”
With two strides, he closed the distance between them. Cupping his hand beneath hers, he traced a finger across the top of the sundial. The bumpy metal felt cool against his skin, and as he dropped his shields, the memories soaked in. “I could see the shop you bought it in. A witch-themed store on Dumaine. I got glimpses of you studying, doing normal teenager stuff, but I also felt lots of emotion, which is unusual. I suppose it’s because you wore it a lot, so it absorbed your feelings.”
“I rarely took it off until I gave it to you.”
“I could sense your feelings for me at the time, and that’s why I was so confused when you broke up with me.” He laughed dryly. “I never saw it coming. Of course, now the predominant emotions attached to it are mine after you left me.”
She closed her fingers around the pendant. “I want to make new memories.” Undoing the clasp, she slid the necklace around his neck, hooking it before resting her hands on his shoulders. “Let’s replace the negative with something positive.”
“I think that’s an excellent idea. How should we start?”
With her hands on the back of his neck, she pulled his face to hers. Their lips met, and she kissed him with a fierceness that shot fire through his veins. Blood pooled in his groin as she leaned into him, her hands roaming along his shoulders, down to his stomach to untuck his shirt.
Holy crap, this was happening. The one that got away was back in his arms and about to be in his bed.
She broke the kiss to unfasten the buttons and jerk the fabric off his shoulders. Her soft fingers trailed down his chest, turning his skin to gooseflesh as her pupils dilated, and she slipped out her tongue to moisten her lips.
“Look at you, all grown up now.” She gripped his sides, running her thumbs over his abs. “Time has been good to you.”
“It led me back to you.”
“Took long enough.”
“Better late than never.”
Her breath hitched as her thumb traced the pale, diagonal scar on the right side of his lower abdomen. “Is this…?”
He took her hand, bringing her fingers to his lips. “It’s in the past.”
“I’m so sorry.” She cast her gaze downward.
“Don’t be.” He hooked a finger under her chin, gently lifting her head. “Stay in the present with me, cher. Now is what matters.”
“You’re right.” Her gaze slid down to the bulge in his jeans as she undid the buttons on her shirt and slipped it over her shoulders. “It’s the only thing that matters, and right now, I want you.”
“And I want to give you what you want.” He traced the lacy edge of her light pink bra before cupping her breasts in his hands, teasing her nipples through the fabric.
She leaned into his touch, closing her eyes and finding his mouth with hers once more. A faint hint of peppermint lingered on her tongue, and the softness of her lips felt both familiar and brand new at the same time.
He slid his hands to her back, unhooking her bra and tossing it aside before pulling her to his chest. It had been way too long since he’d held her in his arms like this, skin to skin, heart to heart. They belonged together…then and now…and he would never let her get away again.
She kissed his jaw, trailing her lips along his neck and pressing them to his ear. “Make love to me.”
Her words were like a jolt of lightning to his heart, unleashing an urgency he refused to fight. He needed her. To be with her. In her. A part of her.
They finished undressing, tossing their clothes aside before falling to the bed together. With Sydney on her back, he lay on his side next to her, exploring her mouth with his tongue, her exquisite body with his hand.
She was all warm skin and soft curves, and as he dipped his fingers into her wet folds, his mouth watered to taste her. Rising onto his hands and knees, he moved down, pressing a kiss between her breasts, to her navel, to her inner thigh, before settling between her legs.
As he flicked out his tongue to lap at her clit, she gasped, and he couldn’t stop the moan rising from his throat. She tasted better than he remembered. He licked her again, circling his tongue around her sensitive nub and slipping a finger inside her.
“Oh my God, Blake.” Her breathless voice sent a shiver down his spine, and she tangled her fingers in his hair. “Yes.”
He slid a second finger inside her, and she arched her back, an erotic mewling sound emanating from her throat as she writhed beneath his tongue. She was a goddess, the sexiest woman on the planet, and he would gladly spend the rest of his life pleasuring her like this.
She cried out as she climaxed, her hips bucking as he continued his pursuit. “I need you, Blake. Inside me. Now.”
With a deep inhale, he rose to his knees and took a condom
from the nightstand drawer. He rolled it on and lay on top of her, pressing his tip against her folds. She trembled beneath him, and as he gently thrust his hips, filling her completely, she cried out again.
The beautiful sounds she made and the warmth of her body against his…the feel of her wrapped around him, squeezing him… It was almost more than he could bear.
Lying with her, making love to her, the piece of his heart she’d taken when she left mended, and though his heart was now whole, it was beating inside her. He gave himself to her—his whole self. Damn the consequences. Whatever ending her ominous vision portended, he’d deal with it when it came. Being with Sydney was all that mattered.
He pumped his hips as she clung to his shoulders, his orgasm coiling tight like a spring before unfurling in his core, lighting every nerve on fire. He moaned and pressed into her, burying his face in her neck and riding the wave until it subsided.
Her chest rose and fell with her heavy breaths beneath him, their hearts beating in time as they held each other. Passion-drunk and light-headed, he rose onto his elbows to look at her, and her smile took his breath away.
“That was even better than I remembered.” She glided her fingers along his back, raising goose bumps on his skin.
“No kidding. My memory did not do that justice. Wow.” He rolled off her, tossing the condom in the trash before snuggling beneath the sheets with her.
She nestled against his side, her cheek resting on his pec, one leg draped across his hips, and a comfortable silence stretched between them. He felt no need to fill the calm with chatter; instead, he tightened his arms around her, letting the perfect way they fit together explain why they were meant to be.
He lost track of how long they lay there, basking in the afterglow, but the sound of footsteps on the staircase broke the quietness of the night. He closed his eyes and listened as the sound grew louder and then faded to silence.
Sydney propped her head on her hand. “I’m guessing, since you didn’t react, that’s the sound of your residual haunting?”
“Happens every night. I only hear it if I’m already awake, so I’m getting used to it.” He rolled on his side to face her. “What got you interested in ghost hunting? It’s an unusual hobby…or job, in your case. What is it that you like so much?”
“Honestly? It makes me feel less alone. I don’t know anyone who has premonitions like I do. I didn’t even know Sean could see ghosts until I was twenty years old, and I’ve known him all my life.”
He trailed his fingers across her forehead, brushing her hair aside. “I guess all us weirdos tend to keep our quirks to ourselves.”
“For good reason. If I could get rid of this ability, I’d gladly give it up. I hate knowing what’s going to happen, especially when I can’t do anything to change it.”
“I can imagine what a burden it is. When did you start hunting ghosts with Sean?”
“When he decided to open Crescent City Ghost Tours, he asked me to help. I thought I was just going to be developing the presentation for him and guiding the tours, but he asked me to help him gather evidence too. He can talk ’til he runs out of breath about all the ghosts he sees, but people don’t believe it until they see hard evidence. That’s where I came in.”
She took his hand, kissing the back of it casually, and his chest gave a squeeze. Did she feel the perfection of this setting like he did?
“Since I was majoring in Media Studies, I had experience with camera and audio equipment. We started investigating the places he’d seen ghosts, gathering evidence, and the company was born. I didn’t know I’d end up loving it so much.”
“Wow. You’ve been with him from day one.” He added her dedication and commitment to her passion to the list of attributes that drew him to her. She was confident, kind, funny, and insanely gorgeous on top of it all.
“I’m invested in it. That’s why this vision worries me so much. The first time I had it was right before Sean announced he was joining forces with you, so I can’t help but think that this…the joint venture, us being together again, something…is the catalyst for the funeral.”
“We’ll figure it out. This…” He ran a hand down her side. “All of this, especially you and me together, feels too right for it to be the cause of something so wrong.”
She opened her mouth to respond when a thud sounded from the closet. “More residual stuff?”
“I’ve never heard that before.” He sat up and listened, and the faint sound of footsteps receding down the stairs thudded on the other side of the wall—in the staircase that led to the third floor. Rising to his feet, he pulled on his underwear and padded to the closet.
Sydney slipped her shirt on, clutching it at her chest as she followed him. “Could something have fallen off a shelf?”
“It’s possible.” He yanked the cord to turn on the light and scanned the floor. Nothing was out of place.
Sydney peeked inside and nodded at a three-foot-high door in the back corner. “What’s behind that?”
“It’s a crawl space.” He twisted the knob and pushed it open, bracing himself for a raccoon or an opossum to come barreling out. When nothing happened, he let out his breath. “There’s no light in there.”
Sydney stepped out and returned with her phone, shining the flashlight into the space. Dust motes hung stagnant in the dank, musty air, glistening in the beam as it cut across the small room.
She shined it toward the back wall and on the sides, but the room was as empty as it had been the day he bought the building. “This is creepy. Do you know what it was used for?”
“No clue. This building is nearly two hundred years old. The inside has been redone so many times, it could be anything. Only the outside hasn’t changed.”
Buildings in the French Quarter were required by law to maintain their original outward appearance. It was one of the reasons this part of the city had retained its charm. Remodeling the inside was fair game, though, and many buildings that had started out as single-family mansions had been converted into apartment buildings, Blake’s home included.
“What’s on the other side of the back wall?” She fastened the buttons on her shirt and slipped on the rest of her clothes. So much for his dream of falling asleep with her naked body pressed against him.
“The staircase to the third floor. The only access is through the back, and the property gate is locked, as well as the door. The alarm would have gone off if it opened.” He turned off the closet light and shut the door. “It’s an old building. I’m sure it was nothing.”
“We should check it out anyway. An animal might have gotten trapped in there, or someone could have disarmed the alarm.” She pulled on her shoes and straightened, fisting her hands on her hips.
“You’re right.” With a sigh, he snatched his pants from the floor and dressed. Investigating a possibly haunted staircase in the middle of the night wasn’t how he planned on ending this date, but she did have a point. The security system was outdated, and he hadn’t installed cameras yet.
She followed him downstairs to the front door, where he opened the alarm panel. “Everything’s set. I haven’t messed with the back door alarm in weeks.”
Resting a hand on his shoulder, she rose onto her toes and peered at the lights on the panel. “Probably an animal then. We should check it out.”
He chuckled as he disarmed the system and stepped out the door.
“What’s funny?” She followed him around the side and through the gate blocking the narrow alley that led to the courtyard in back.
He paused at the corner and turned to her. “You’re not afraid of anything, are you?”
She grinned. “Does my implied bravery threaten your manhood? Would you rather I play the damsel in distress?” She tilted her head toward the sky, resting the back of her hand on her forehead, and thickened her Louisiana accent. “Help me, Mr. Beaumont. I heard a scary noise.”
He grabbed her ass and pulled her to him. “My manhood has never been in question
, cher. You be as brave as you want.”
Her breath caught, her lips curving into a seductive smile as her gaze flowed down to his mouth. The fiery look in her eyes tempted him to pick her up and carry her back upstairs to the bedroom, but he didn’t get dressed and traipse out into the frigid night for nothing. They were investigating that staircase.
He released her and motioned toward the dark courtyard. “Ladies first.”
She hesitated. “Are there any lights out here?”
He flipped the switch mounted to the wall, flooding the courtyard in warm white light. A cobblestone walkway led to an old, broken fountain in the center of the yard. The stone statue had to be at least a hundred years old, and it featured an ornate cylindrical pillar with three pedestals surrounding it in layers. A platform sat empty at the top of the column, whatever figure had occupied it long since gone. A ring of bricks encircling the structure should have served as a reservoir for the falling water, but all it contained now was a layer of dried leaves.
Sydney made her way toward the back door, but her gaze trained on the fountain. “That’s beautiful. Do you ever turn it on?”
He stepped past her toward the door and turned the key in the lock. “It’s broken. I haven’t gotten around to fixing it.”
“You should. It’ll be nice to sit out here in the spring if you can get it flowing. Ready?”
“For spring?” He mentally moved having the fountain repaired to the top of his to-do list. Whatever this woman wanted, he would give it to her.
She laughed. “To see what kind of animal has gotten trapped in your building. My money is on raccoons.”
She moved to open the door, but he stepped inside first. His manhood might have needed a little defending around a tough-as-nails woman like her.
He fumbled his hands along the wall until he found the switch and flipped on the lights. Cold and slightly damp, the air in the corridor hung heavy and stale. He stilled, listening for sounds of phantom footsteps or tiny claws scurrying through walls. Sydney stepped inside, and the door clicked shut behind her. Silence engulfed them.
Love & Omens Page 13