“What are you doing?”
“Memorizing you.”
She instinctively wrapped her arms around herself. She needed him to touch her, to bring back the warmth and act on the passion pooling in his eyes. “You’re embarrassing me.”
He took her arms and wrapped them around his waist. “Don’t be embarrassed. You are perfection wrapped in lace. I needed a minute to admire you before I ravage you.”
Then he kissed her. Hard. Passionately. Urgently. His hands roamed over her body, trailing up her back to unhook her bra. Sliding her onto the table, he spread her legs to fit his hips between them and laid her down, painting kisses across her stomach and up to her breasts.
He took a nipple in his mouth, teasing it with his tongue until it hardened. Electricity shot from her chest to her womb, and a lustful moan escaped her throat. He continued exploring her, trailing his tongue along her curves, lightly nipping at her bare skin. There was something oddly erotic about being so exposed while he was fully clothed.
“Should we be doing this on your dining room table?”
He glided his lips below her navel and kissed the tender skin along the edge of her panties. “I’ve never had a meal here. But I wouldn’t mind having dessert.”
He peeled the lace from her hips and slid it down her legs. When he reached her feet, he slipped off her shoes and let her panties fall to the floor. “You won’t be needing these anymore.” He stood, leaning over her, letting his hands wander all over her body as he kissed her. “God, you’re so beautiful, Emily.” His whisper against her stomach made her shiver.
Pulling up a chair, he sat and draped her thigh over his shoulder. He trailed his lips up one leg, across her pubic line and down the other leg, licking, kissing, and grazing every part of her except the one part she desperately needed him to touch. As his lips neared her center, she arched her back to bring him closer, all but begging him to pleasure her.
He let out a chuckle, obviously enjoying her reaction, and flicked out his tongue to finally taste her. She gasped at the warmth and softness of the caress, the feel of his fingers massaging her thighs. He draped her other leg over his shoulder, and a masculine mmm resonated from his chest. The vibration of sound against her sensitive middle sent thrilling tingles shooting through her core. And when he slipped a finger inside her, she lost control.
Her orgasm ripped through her body like an electric jolt, and she arched her back, tangling her fingers in his hair. His tongue felt like warm velvet against her skin as wave after wave of pleasure rocketed through her limbs.
When she’d had all she could take, she sat up and slid off the table to straddle his lap, crushing her mouth to his. She pulled his shirt over his head and ran her hands over his body. He was the perfect combination of hard muscles and soft skin, and she needed to feel his hardness inside her.
She unbuttoned his jeans and slid off his lap to pull them down. His erection sprang out, long and hard, and she wrapped her hand around it. He closed his eyes and sucked in a sharp breath as she stroked him.
“Make love to me, Emily.” His voice was raspy, thick with need. His eyes dilated with desire.
She straddled him again, guiding him to her folds, and lowered herself onto him. She shuddered as he filled her completely, as if he were made to be inside her. Rocking her hips, she slid up and down his thick girth and crushed her mouth to his. As another orgasm coiled in her core, she couldn’t help but quicken her pace.
He moaned into her mouth, gripping her hips and guiding her faster and faster until release overtook her. She tossed her head back and cried out as he spasmed inside her. He stilled her hips, grinding himself into her until his own release was complete.
Breathless, she rested her head on his shoulder, and he rubbed his hands up and down her back.
“I am never going to look at this dining room the same.” He brushed her hair from her shoulder and kissed her.
“You were sensational.”
“This was all you, sweetheart. All I did was provide the pole. You did the dance.”
Heat spread from the bridge of her nose all the way to her ears. He definitely brought out her wild side.
“And I don’t ever want to hear you say you’re boring again. A boring woman could not have done what you just did.” He kissed her cheek, her neck, her shoulder.
She nodded and ran a finger over his wound, lifting her head to look at it. “These stitches can probably come out now. You’re a fast healer.”
“You’re a good nurse. Do you want to move to the bed?”
“I do, but…” She bit her bottom lip. She wanted to spend the night with him, but was it worth the nightmares she’d have to endure to do it?
He smiled and stroked her cheek. “But…salt?”
He’d read her mind. She nodded and cast her gaze to the floor.
“It’s already taken care of. I salted the whole house. The backyard too.”
She met his gaze, and her chest gave a squeeze. He was thoughtful. Kind. He could do amazing things with his tongue. She was falling hard and fast for Sean, and there wasn’t a thing she could do about it. “The whole house?”
He shrugged. “I didn’t want to take any chances. I didn’t know where we might fall asleep, and I wanted you to feel safe. So I salted the whole property. Put it directly in the earth, so it’ll last a couple of weeks unless it rains.”
Pressure built in the back of her eyes, but she would not cry, even if they were tears of happiness. “Thank you.”
“You’re safe here, Emily.”
Chapter Eleven
Sean scratched his pencil fervidly across the thick cream-colored paper. Golden sunlight poured in through the bedroom window, perfectly illuminating the gorgeous angel sleeping next to him. Her red hair fanned out around her head, and her right hand lay palm up, fingers gently brushing her cheek. The sheets were pulled down around her waist, exposing her flawless breasts, and the sunlight caressed her at just the right angle to brighten her features, giving her an ethereal glow.
A pins and needles feeling shimmied up his leg, and he shifted position to ease the sensation. Emily’s eyes fluttered open, a tiny smile lighting her lips.
“Don’t move. I’ve been waiting for you to open your eyes.” He moved his pencil faster.
Her smile widened, melting his heart. “Are you drawing me?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“You didn’t need me to open my eyes. You know what they look like.”
“Not when you first wake up in the morning after a night of passionate lovemaking.”
A pink blush spread across her cheeks. If only he had his pastels with him, so he could capture the endearing color. He put the finishing touches on the sketch and dated and signed the bottom corner.
“You can move now.”
She pushed to a sitting position, not bothering to pull up the sheets to cover herself, and leaned toward him. “Can I see it?”
He put the pencil on the nightstand and handed her the sketchbook. Her eyes widened when she looked at the drawing, a slight hitch in her breath revealing her surprise. Then she pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes.
“What’s wrong? Is it that I drew you naked? I promise I won’t show it to anyone.”
“No, it’s not that.” She handed the sketchpad to him. “It’s just you…” She took a deep breath and lifted one shoulder in a slight shrug. “You draw me prettier than I actually am. I wish I looked like that.”
“You do look like this, Emily.” He held up the drawing and examined it next to his subject. How could she think the sketch was prettier than she really was? “I draw exactly what I see. Maybe you see yourself differently than I do.” He set the sketchbook aside and scooted closer to her, nuzzling into her neck. “All I see is beauty, inside and out.”
“And apparently you like what you see.” She nodded to the tent he’d made of the sheets.
“Apparently, I do.”
A playful grin danced on her lips as she slid her hand
beneath the covers and gripped his arousal. “It would be a shame to waste this.”
“A terrible shame.”
He made love to her again. Slowly. Passionately. And when they finished, he pulled her into his arms and held on to her as if he’d never let her go. Emily belonged here with him. In his bed. In his life.
He’d laughed when his mom told him love at first sight was real. Love was an emotion he doubted he’d ever feel again. But now, lying here with Emily wrapped in his arms, her naked body pressed against him, her rhythmic breaths warming his skin, he couldn’t deny it. The flame she’d ignited inside him the night they met had grown into a raging inferno that consumed his very soul.
He knew what love felt like, and this was definitely it. He’d spend every second of every day with this woman for the rest of his life if he could. Lucky for her, he had other responsibilities and couldn’t smother her with his presence too much.
“What are you doing today?” He ran his fingers through her silky hair and placed a kiss on her forehead.
“I don’t have any plans during the day. Did you have something in mind?”
He ached at the sound of her voice, still raspy from sleep and lovemaking. “I wish I could stay right here in bed with you all afternoon.”
“That sounds fantastic.”
“Unfortunately, I have a meeting in a few hours.”
“Oh.” The disappointment in her voice made his chest tighten. He hated to let her down, but the fact that she wanted to spend more time with him thrilled him.
“But I’m free tonight.”
She pursed her lips. “I promised Trish a girls’ night tonight.”
“Damn. Friday then? I have to run a tour that evening, but after…”
“After sounds wonderful.” She brushed her fingers along his chest, tracing the contours of his muscles, raising goose bumps on his skin. “What kind of meeting do you have?”
“You know how my mom runs fundraisers all year for a local charity?”
She nodded.
“November’s event is a bachelor auction, and I’m on the committee. We’re meeting today to finalize the plans.”
“Oh. So, women pay money to go on a date with you?”
“Not just me. We have twenty bachelors signed up this year. But it’s not as bad as it sounds. It’s usually rich, lonely old ladies bidding. The guys take them out to dinner and go dancing. It’s all good fun.”
Her heart pounded into his side. “How much do you go for?”
“Last year I went for three thousand dollars.”
“Do young women ever bid? I mean, ladies you might actually want to date for real?”
He turned on his side to see her face. “Sometimes young women bid. Are you jealous?” He couldn’t fight the smile tugging at his lips.
“I might have to take out a loan so I can bid on you.”
“I hope you win.”
“Me too.”
The auction was still a month away, and he’d known Emily less than two weeks. But if her feelings for him were half as strong as his for her, they’d be a couple by then. He had no intention of putting himself up for auction now, but telling her that might not be the best idea. If he got too serious too fast, he might scare her away, and that was the last thing he wanted to do.
“Three thousand dollars?” She let out an astonished whistle.
Was she seriously considering bidding on him? “Yeah. But the committee is pressuring me to offer more than a date this year.”
“What?” She gasped and pulled away from him.
He laughed. “No, not that. They want me to offer a portrait session. They think they could double my price if I offered to draw a portrait of whoever wins me.”
Her shoulders relaxed. “Oh, well, that’s not so bad.”
“It is, though. I don’t like to draw people.”
“Isn’t that what you’re famous for? All those drawings of the people at the hotels and stuff?”
Interesting how she avoided mentioning the people he drew were ghosts. “I wouldn’t say I’m famous for it. But all those people are dead. I don’t like to draw the living. It’s too intimate.”
“But you draw me.”
“I like being intimate with you.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her neck.
“Wait.” She pushed him away. “Drawing people is sexual for you?”
“What? No.” He sighed. He obviously wasn’t explaining himself very well. “I draw exactly what I see. I can’t bring myself to do otherwise. Facial expressions. The love or hate people hold in their eyes. What they’re like on the inside always seeps through to the outside, and most people don’t like to see that. Even you weren’t happy with the sketch I just did of you.”
“It’s not that I wasn’t happy. It’s amazing. You’re amazing. I just don’t feel like I’m that pretty.”
He shrugged. “See. And there’s nothing I can do about the way you see yourself, the way anyone sees themselves. And people always want me to make them look better—skinnier, bigger eyes, fewer wrinkles. I don’t lie with words, and I don’t lie in my drawings either. So I made a decision a long time ago to stick with dead people. They don’t complain.”
“No, I guess they couldn’t.”
Oh, they could. But most of them were so happy to be seen, they didn’t care. That was a conversation for another day, though. He’d wait until their relationship was a little more solid before he tackled the hard stuff. First, he’d earn her trust. Then she’d open up to him. She’d have to.
* * *
“How are things with you and lover-boy?” Trish stepped through Emily’s front door and dropped her purse on the table. “I want all the juicy details.”
“You don’t waste any time, do you?” She pulled two Abitas from the fridge and offered one to Trish.
Her friend rolled her eyes and took the beer. “Hi, Emily. How are you?”
“I’m good. Thanks for asking. How are you?”
“Fine. Now spill. What did you do last night? What time did you get home? When are you seeing him again? Did you sleep with him yet?”
Emily sipped her beer, savoring the fizzy sensation as it slid down her throat to warm her from the inside out. “Dinner and a movie. Around noon today. Tomorrow night. Yes.”
Trish ticked off the answers on her fingers and squealed. “So? What’s he like? He was so perfect at the ball, you were afraid you’d be disappointed.”
“I don’t know how to describe it. Everything just clicks, you know?”
“It’s going well then? Do you see it getting serious?”
She picked at the label on the beer bottle. She hoped it was getting serious. She’d never felt so much so fast for anyone before. “Well, he had an extra toothbrush he’d gotten from the dentist last week, and he let me use it this morning. When I was done, he put in the holder next to his and said I could keep it there for next time.”
Trish raised her eyebrows and grinned. “He’s planning a next time. That’s a good sign.”
“I asked him that—if he was planning a next time—and he said he hoped there’d be lots of next times.”
“Emily has a boyfriend,” Trish sang like a schoolgirl.
“We haven’t made anything official yet.”
“Oh, please. You have a toothbrush at his house. I’d call that official.”
“I hope—” Her phone buzzed on the table, and her heart did a little flip. Could it be Sean? She picked it up and looked at the screen. “Oh, crap. I’m not answering that.”
“Who is it?”
“It’s Phillip. He keeps begging me to see him again. Claims he misses me, he made a mistake, yada yada yada.”
“You’re not going to, are you?”
“Absolutely not. Nothing good would come of seeing him again. I’ve moved on.”
“I’d say you have. You’ve got Dreamboat now.”
“Damn right I do.” She clinked the neck of her beer bottle against Trish’s and took a drink.
She let out a slow breath. “He was married before. Did I mention that?” Sipping her beer, she said a silent prayer that her deflection would work.
Trish shook her head. “What happened?”
“She died in a car crash a few years ago. We talked about it briefly, but he didn’t want to dwell on it.”
“Oh, man, that’s sad. So, then you told him about Jessica?”
Damn it, she’d only delayed the inevitable. She shrugged. “Jessica didn’t come up in the conversation.”
“It’s going to eventually, and you’ll have to tell him why she died. How are you going to handle it?”
“I don’t know. He hasn’t talked much about his job or seeing dead people, or anything related to it. And I’ve done my best to avoid the issue. I guess I’ve been enjoying him so much, I’ve let myself forget about his fatal flaw.”
“You don’t know if it will be fatal for him.”
“It was for Jessica.” She downed the rest of her beer.
“He still thinks you don’t believe in ghosts, doesn’t he?”
“I don’t believe in them. Not anymore.” As long as she kept telling herself that, she would stay convinced. “I don’t want to think about this right now. Let me bask in the excitement of Sean for a while, okay?”
The doorbell chimed, and she jumped from her seat, saved by the bell. Peering through the peephole, she saw the back of a man’s head receding down the steps. As she opened the door, she found a small package lying on the mat. The mail carrier gave her a wave before climbing into his truck and driving away.
She carried the box to the table. “It’s from Robert. He said he found a key that might fit the box.”
Grabbing a knife from the kitchen, she slit open the tape and pulled a wad of tissue paper out. “At least it’s not those stupid packing peanuts this time.”
“Is there a note or anything?” Trish reached into the box and pulled out a slip of paper. “‘This is all I could find. I hope it’s what you’re looking for. Robert.’ He’s a man of few words.”
Love & Ghosts: Crescent City Ghost Tours Page 15