His eyes were all over me as he continued to fill me with his girth. My heart quickened and every breath of mine grew louder. Then my head tipped back in sheer delight and he screamed with me as we climaxed in unison.
His final thrusts were fierce and prolonged.
I fell onto his chest.
“Oh my god,” I uttered.
I’d never known such pleasure. Not only did he have size but he knew what to do with it.
“Oh my god,” I said again.
He was smiling and breathing hard. We were both sweating.
“Little help,” he said, waving his hands. I grinned back at him and slid up to release him. His tongue toyed with my nipples.
When I freed his hands, he wrapped his arms around me.
“Oh my god,” he said. “That was … unbelievable.”
That was a relief to hear. Not that I’d thought he hadn’t enjoyed it. But since this was our first time, I was glad I made an impression.
I closed my eyes. “Why?” I asked. “Why now?”
He squeezed me to him. “I wasn’t sure,” he said.
“Of what?” I asked. I ran my hand along his chest.
“That you were interested.”
“Huh?”
“I’ve always been just one of the guys to you.”
“What are you talking about?” I said. “How could anyone give you any indication otherwise when you’ve had one woman or another draped over your arm.”
“You were with Tony,” he said.
I laughed. “For one date!”
“Yeah, that wasn’t the impression Tony was giving everyone. I heard you last night at the bar though. And when I heard that, I knew I had to try. I just couldn’t live with the regret of not knowing, of not trying.”
I looked into those eyes. “Don’t you dare break my heart Chris Silver. I don’t want to be like those other women.”
He kissed my forehead. “Don’t you break mine.”
Chapter 8
Dinner was splendid — penne and salmon in an alfredo sauce with oyster mushrooms. The man could cook.
Dessert was me, with the cheesecake.
We lay in bed the following morning, Chris’s arms around me. He was quiet for a while, and I wondered if perhaps he’d fallen back asleep. It had been a long night.
I looked over to him. He was wide awake, just looking at me.
“What is it?”
He shook his head. “I’m not sure I should say.”
“I don’t play that game. I want honesty, Chris. Even if it’s not pleasant. I’m not one of those girls that wants you to tell me what I want to hear. I want openness. I can’t deal with things if I don’t know about them.”
He nodded and studied me for a moment before speaking.
“I’m worried,” he said.
“About what?”
“You. And those papers from your mother. What if it’s true?”
I couldn’t deny there was something strange going on. The fact that my father, grandfather, and great-grandfather had all died at the age of twenty-four was a bit odd. And that trip visiting my parents’ house was surreal. I wasn’t sure I wanted to believe that any of it was true, but the pieces were starting to point to something I didn’t want to face. And somehow Aunt Marigold was connected to this. Giving my grandfather an emerald cufflink could have been coincidence, but the fact he had also seen freaky little green men was pushing the coincidences beyond what I could blow off.
Then something hit me and I couldn’t believe I said it out loud. “My mother knew I was seeing things that my grandfather had seen too.”
Chris just looked at me.
“Oh my god,” I said. I repeated it over and over in my head, like it was becoming clearer every time. “She knew I had been seeing the same things as my grandfather and she medicated me to shut me up. Holy crap!” I climbed out of bed. “I have to get home.”
“What’s going on?” Chris asked, climbing out after me. Like me he was naked, and in fine form.
There wasn’t time for that right now.
“I have to go,” I said, looking for my shirt.
He took me by the hand and those green eyes held me still. “You told me you wanted honesty and openness. I want the same, Katherine.”
I loved hearing him say my name like that. It was soft and affectionate.
I nodded. He was right. He deserved the same if this was going to go any further. He needed to know what he was getting into. I felt ashamed of what I was going to tell him. I was a nut job. Yet, either I was going to be his nut job, or I was going to be facing this alone. I hoped it wasn’t going to be the latter.
“Get dressed,” I said. “I’ll tell you on the way.”
As we dressed and walked to my apartment, I told him everything, about what I had seen as a child, about the doctors, about the return of the little green man, about Aunt Marigold, about the earrings, about what I’d read in the pages so far, and about the little trip I’d taken. Chris said nothing. He just listened.
When we got to the apartment, I expected him to make up an excuse, and that he needed to go. It was a long weekend. He didn’t have to work today, so I braced myself for what was coming. Instead, he stood there.
“Aren’t you going to open the door?” he asked.
I could feel my eyes watering.
He wiped them away, his hands caressing my face. “What’s wrong?”
“You’re still here,” I said. “I thought maybe I’d scare you off with all this.”
He kissed me. Hard. “I’ve known you for almost a year, Katherine. And now I’ve finally got you, I’m not going anywhere.”
I kissed him again, and unlocked the door.
Waiting for us were the papers where I’d left them. Chris sat on the futon and picked up the earrings.
“These are pretty,” he said, holding them up to the light. “So these are what you wore when you had that vision?”
I nodded and took them from him.
“And what about when you saw the homunculus?”
“Homuncu-what?”
He paused for a moment. “Homunculus. It’s Latin for little human.”
Sounded fine to me.
We both looked at the ficus. It was looking a little greener since Chris had watered it. I was actually sad there was no one there waving at me. I wanted Chris to see it. Although, as a child, Geoff had never seen the homunculus or any of the little winged people either. So I guess I shouldn’t have expected Chris to be able to see the little green man.
Nope. Just crazy old me.
Then I realized I hadn’t answered his question. “No, I wasn’t wearing these when I saw him. I’ve been seeing him for years off and on. And I ran out of my meds so I’ve started seeing him again.”
Chris handed the earrings to me. “You going to put them on?”
“I don’t think so,” I said. “Not yet. I want to read some more.” With that, I grabbed the sheets from my mother. Chris took the diary entries.
The death certificates were on the top where I’d left them. I started looking through more, which were photocopies of various documents, but then I found one sheet with my mother’s impeccable handwriting.
On it, she detailed dates and names:
1891—Thomas Gregory—drowned—age 24
1916—William Gregory—WWI—age 24
1939—John Gregory—WWII—age 24
1963—Charles Gregory—car accident— age 24
1987—James Gregory—electrocution—age 24
I supposed my name would be next. My birthday was tomorrow.
If what Joan had written here was correct, I could go any day after that.
I handed the sheet to Chris without saying a word.
It took seconds before I heard him say, “Holy shit.”
My hands were trembling, and Chris put his arms around me. “We’ll figure this out,” he said.
I waited for him to say that this had to be a mistake. I waited for him to abandon m
e like Geoffrey had.
And like someone else had when I was sixteen.
I wondered what had caused that last thought to resurface. I shook my head.
“Do you know how to reach your Aunt Marigold?” Chris asked. “You said she seemed connected to this. Maybe she knows something.”
Although they weren’t quite the reassuring words I might have hoped for, it sounded like he was still with me on this.
I pulled back and looked into his eyes. They were determined and true. “I don’t think I have her number,” I said, “only her address. I’ll call Geoffrey.”
Geoff answered on the first ring. “Hey.” His voice was pretty cold.
“Hey,” I said. I was going to have to lie to him. “Um, any chance you found Aunt Marigold’s number? I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. You could be right. This couldn’t have been from Mother. There has to be a mistake here. I’m hoping Aunt Marigold can help me.”
He exhaled on the other end of the phone. “I was starting to think maybe you actually believed what was written there. Someone must have faked a bunch of documents and mailed them as a cruel joke.”
It was too elaborate for a joke.
I heard a woman’s voice in the background, one of his numerous fag hags. “It’s preposterous!”
Preposterous? Who uses that word?
“But who would do such a thing?” I asked.
Again, the pause. “I don’t know, Katherine. Someone who wants to besmirch Mom’s name, maybe?”
Besmirch? What was going on over there?
Then I thought about what he might be inferring. That’s when my blood started to boil.
“What are you implying, Geoff? That I did this? That I would go through all this trouble? For what?”
He cleared his throat. “No one else has anything to gain from it. No one except you, Katherine. I think it’s a ploy to get her money.”
Those last words stung.
I hung up on him.
Bastard.
Chris was next to me in a heartbeat. “He still doesn’t believe you, does he?”
I shook my head. There were tears sliding down my face. He wiped them away and kissed my cheek.
“I do,” he whispered.
“Thank you.” I was really glad for his support right now. I kissed him once more and rose.
“So if Geoff doesn’t have it,” Chris said, “grab her address and let’s check the web.”
I pulled her address up on the computer. For every tool I could think of to search for her, Chris knew five more.
We turned up nothing.
I put my head in my hands. I needed to think. I needed answers. I was starting to feel a little overwhelmed at the moment. If this was all true, I could die any day after tomorrow, doing anything.
I was scared shitless.
“Call in sick,” Chris said. “Don’t go to work tomorrow. I’ll do the same.”
I pulled my head up. “Huh?”
“We’re going to England.” He grabbed the phone.
“What? Wait a minute. I can’t just go flying off to England. I’ll probably drop into the ocean if this is all true.” I paused. “And what do you mean ‘we’?”
“I’m coming with you.”
I stood up. I couldn’t afford a ticket to England. My credit card was maxed out.
“Chris—”
He looked stern and I could swear his shoulders got bigger. “Go pack. I’m calling to get us tickets now.”
I was a little taken aback at the authority in his voice.
“Wait just a second,” I said. My hands were on my hips. “You can’t come in here and start telling me what to do!”
He softened his stance. “I’ve waited a long time to get you, Katherine. I’m not going to lose you now. I told you, I’m not going to live with that kind of regret. I’m coming with you, and that’s that.”
Somehow I dropped my hands from my hips, flung them around his neck, and kissed him. I was turning girly again.
“Go pack,” he said.
“But this isn’t safe. What if I go down on the plane? You’ll go with me. I couldn’t live with that.”
“Your birthday isn’t until tomorrow,” he said. Those emeralds of his were shining.
I hadn’t told him it was my birthday. “How did you know?”
He winked. “Well, it’s in the letter from your mother, but Natalie mentioned it last year.”
“And you remembered?”
“Well, yeah,” he said.
I was grinning stupidly. “I’ll go pack.” This boy could end up being a keeper.
Maybe he couldn’t smell the man repellant.
I ripped the room apart, grabbing whatever I could stuff into a carry-on. There wasn’t a lot of time so I figured packing light was best. I grabbed my papers, ID, and some clothes and stuffed them into a backpack. While I packed, Chris made arrangements for the flight. It was leaving in five hours.
I looked at the clock. It read twenty minutes after eleven.
It didn’t give us a lot of time. Officially, my time of birth was noon. Since, according to my birth records from Joan, I was born in England, I would turn twenty-four in just over nineteen hours from now.
After that, I didn’t know how long I had to live.
Chapter 9
We rushed to Chris’s place where he grabbed a few items, shoving them into a backpack of his own. We didn’t want to waste time with baggage. He’d already called to arrange an air taxi to pick us up so we didn’t have to wait once he was ready.
When we got to the airport, I stopped Chris at the door. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
He squeezed my hands, confidence set in his eyes. “Couldn’t be more sure. And you can’t do this alone.”
I returned his squeeze, and then we swept into the airport.
I hadn’t flown since my trip to England at the age of sixteen. Chris, who flew frequently for work, seemed to know his way around well enough. He got us through the terminal and checked in without a hitch.
I was a tad nervous. My stomach was feeling it while we waited. I’m not a big fan of heights, hence the reason the balcony of my apartment rarely saw any use. I was also a little anxious about going to England, in general. It had been years since I’d seen him, but this unexpected trip was also resurfacing memories of my first love. Memories I’d rather leave buried.
The flight departed on time, thankfully. Had it been delayed, I somehow imagined us being over the ocean when my birthday struck. All I could picture was a goose getting sucked into the engines mid-flight and us screaming to our deaths as we plunged into the water.
I was quiet during the ascent, trying to avoid looking out the window. It was like going up a rollercoaster ride that just kept climbing.
When we reached cruising altitude, Chris leaned over. “Why don’t you try the earrings again?”
I gave him one of those sidelong glances that asked him if he was mildly insane.
“Nothing will happen,” he said. “I’m right here with you. And if anything seems strange, I’ll take the earrings off and wake you up.”
I pondered the thought for a moment. It would give me something else to think about. Maybe if I was lucky the flight would be close to over by the time I woke up.
There was something inside me that suggested I should do this; I was meant to learn something from this. I wasn’t sure what. There’s nothing like watching your predecessors die horribly. But then again, my birthday was coming fast, and unless I figured out what was going on, the next death would be mine.
I nodded, but I was scared. “Promise me you’ll wake me.”
“I’ll be right here the whole time.”
I took the earrings out and hooked the first one in. I looked at Chris. He squeezed my leg.
Then I put the second one in, and everything went black once more.
Knowing I wasn’t a ghost this time, that this was sort of like a dream, I didn’t seem to mind the fact I was glowing and in t
he back seat of another car. This one was even older than the last one. I was sitting on a long white bench at the back. Forget seatbelts. There were none.
The inside was red and the steering wheel was huge — like on a bus. The driver, who was male, had to turn it with one hand crossing over the other. The radio was playing what sounded like The Beach Boys masked in static.
There was a passenger in the seat next to him — a woman. She was nibbling on his ear while he drove with her hand on his thigh. I hate to make judgments without knowing more about the circumstances, but something about their behavior didn’t seem quite right.
We were driving past fields of corn that were dotted with weeping willows. The groping and heavy kissing was causing the car to swerve.
I didn’t like where this was going. Plus, I wasn’t sure how much longer I wanted to be in the car, especially without a seatbelt.
The woman in the front was giggling incessantly and the man was moaning. I wasn’t sure I really wanted to see exactly what they were up to, but I think his pants were undone.
I slid over in the back seat to get a glance at the man. Between more heavy petting and kissing, I realized that this was my grandfather. I’d seen photos of him as a child. The prominent chin was unmistakable.
There were no cars coming towards us, nor behind us. So, I was relieved to know that their reckless behavior wouldn’t necessarily cost them their lives. At the same time, I wasn’t entirely sure what might happen to me if I was caught in an accident. Maybe I’d just slide right through whatever came at them.
The woman in the front started to get a little more aggressive, licking my grandfather’s neck and almost sitting on his lap. There was a hunger to her.
The car swerved again. My grandfather was struggling to see as he drove, but he wasn’t exactly asking her to stop either. He hoisted her onto him so she was straddling him. I noticed something. My grandfather’s wedding ring. He was married, and I knew my grandmother to have had black hair. This woman’s hair was golden.
I nearly gasped. I hadn’t really paid attention to it, until I got a glimpse of her face. This was the same woman who’d been at the door on my last trip like this. The one who had been trying to sell beauty products to my mother just as my father was being electrocuted.
Broken: A Paranormal Romance Page 5