by Various
“What is it you’re reading?” he asked, grinning mischievously at her obvious embarrassment.
“Just some old journals I found up in the attic,” she said, glancing down at the book as though she had forgotten she held it.
“Ah. Your father’s?” Luke asked, studying her closely, keeping an easy smile on his face, though nothing inside him felt easy as he studied her. He had been watching, and waiting, for a long time.
It was her.
So very different.
But her.
CJ laughed. When she did, it had her golden brown eyes sparkling. Her skin had a naturally dusky hue to it, and Luke wondered idly if the flesh of her torso was the same sun-kissed tone. Dragging his eyes back up, he had to smile in return as CJ said, “My father keeping journals? Not in this lifetime. You usually keep a journal to write down your innermost thoughts and feelings. And my father had no thoughts or feelings that didn’t pertain to his studies.”
“Sounds like a rather sad man,” Luke noted, wondering what such a father had been like for this girl.
“Yeah. I guess he was.” Her mouth pursed thoughtfully as she studied the journal she held. “Actually, the journals all belong to a girl who lived more than a hundred years ago. My father would probably have me beaten simply for touching them.”
“Things were meant to be enjoyed, not locked in a museum,” Luke said, eyeing the journal with interest. “I imagine your father probably felt otherwise.”
“Yes.” CJ’s head came up and she looked him square in the eye. “Would you like to come up and see the house?”
Yes…
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That, he wanted more than anything. But the walls were still there. He could feel them, in his soul, in a way Luke really couldn’t describe. It just wasn’t time yet. It would be though, and soon. And that evil, foul soul that lingered to this day wouldn’t be able to keep him out.
A slow, sweet smile came to his face and he shook his head. “I’d love to, but I’m afraid I’ve got some things to get done.” Holding his hand out, he said, “I enjoyed meeting you, Chelsea Jane.” More than you can possibly know…
Moments later, he disappeared down a path that led into the trees, glancing back only once, meeting her eyes. The look in her eyes had heat racing down his spine, striking him square in the groin. Interest, very female interest.
Luke wanted to meet up with Chelsea Jane again, and soon.
Very, very soon.
The flowers were blooming well, cared for and happy.
His mother wasn’t there anymore. She had moved on. And Luke was happy for that.
Katie wasn’t there anymore either. She hadn’t moved on, though.
She had finally, finally, come back to him.
Now he just had to convince her of that.
After so many years of waiting for her to get past the pain, the violence, the fear, she was back.
And so much stronger.
Ah, these times though, it seemed they bred stronger women.
Rising, his pants stretching tight across his thighs, Luke looked around. Nobody was out. None ventured to the cemetery at night. With a smile, he thought, none except a ghost, that is.
CJ dreamed again that night, of Lucas and Katie.
Of CJ and a man with wind-tossed blond hair, gray eyes, a wicked grin, Lucas…
Luke.
She jerked awake in the bed with a yelp. “Luke. Lucas.”
“I’m going crazy.”
You’re not Katie. He’s not Collin Lucas.
Then why do you still remember his touch on your body, the way the stream looks and you’ve never even been there? The house he built? I bet you could find it and it will look the same.
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“No, it will be falling to ruins, already gone, or made into a subdivision. Or you’re even more crazy than you think for talking to yourself, because it won’t be there. It doesn’t exist.”
Are you afraid to find out?
So she climbed from bed…early, early. The angry, oppressive presence weighed down, heavier than before the moment she climbed from bed, almost as if it was holding her in her place. A lesser-willed person may have stayed in bed, under the covers. Lifting her eyes, she stared at where it felt the heaviest. “Peter Davenport, go straight to hell. You can’t stop me from trying to find him. And if it’s him, if I’m not crazy, I’m bringing him here, bringing him home.”
A cold wind slammed her in the face, knocking her back a step. “Yes, home. This is his home. And you’ve always known it. He will come back here.”
Doors started to slam as she got dressed, and she could feel wind whipping all around her. The calm, soothing presence tried to gather itself around her, as though to calm her, but CJ shook her head. “I’m not afraid of him. He’s a dead body in the ground. He can’t actually hurt me. I’m here, he isn’t. Lucas is here as well, and he knows it. That is what really burns his ass.”
And she walked out of the house, wearing khaki shorts, a tank top for when it warmed up, a zip-up sweater over it for now. With her backpack slung over her shoulder, she headed away from the house, hopefully for the last time alone. Some of the later journals were inside the backpack, including the one from Katie’s birthday.
Doors were still banging, but once she got past her car, they stopped.
She just walked, letting her feet and some source of buried memories guide her.
Reliving other memories, memories of strong hands on her body, Lucas chasing her through the woods as she squealed with laughter. And he would catch her, pin her against her tree and kiss her breathless, sliding his hands up her skirt, shredding her pantaloons, driving his stiff cock inside her while she screamed out his name.
His soft, husky voice rolling over her as he licked and ate from her pussy, “Soft sweet, creamy thing you are, Katie, I want you. Love you, always mine.”
And Katie, kneeling before him, taking his cock in her mouth as he stared down at her with dark, shuttered eyes, his face, that beautiful face locked in a mask of ecstasy that made her scorch and burn as she started to plunge her fingers into her own dripping core.
Rushing water…in a daze, CJ blinked her eyes and looked around. She was here.
The stream.
And tears filled her eyes. With the back of her hand pressed against her mouth, she stared at the spot under a towering oak. It had just been a sapling then, but it was there, right there, where she had lain, as Katie, while Collin Lucas Frost had made love to her for the first time.
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More than a hundred years ago.
Damn it, she had been here before.
And yet, she had never seen this place in her life.
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Chapter Four
Luke moved through the kitchen, chewing absently on a tasteless sandwich.
Tasteless, bland. Everything was tasteless, colorless. Lifeless.
Except for the woman.
CJ.
She had color and life.
It was her, his love, reborn into that body. Yet something was different. Of course, he was different, too.
He had woken in this body—not quite his, different, but not—decades and decades ago, and shambled through nearly thirty years without thinking, not aging, not changing, not remembering. And then he had seen a woman, older, but still vaguely similar to Katie. Megan Graham, her niece. And he started to remember. Once he had remembered, he found the graves. Oh, they were cared for. Basically. Very basically.
He couldn’t go home, not to the plantation. It was closed to him. Once Katie was back at his side, he could go home. How he knew that, he wasn’t sure, but he knew.
And Davenport… Davenport… Rage flooded him even now as he thought of him. He knew what had happened. Through the years he had learned, though for the longest time he had thought the worst.
Poor Mama.
Both of them lost to him.
Davenport, you fucking bastard.
It was one night while he was putting flowers down on Katie’s grave that he felt her whisper his name. “Lucas? Collin Lucas?”
But she wasn’t here…
It was like she was lost.
And searching.
So he just had to wait.
And keep waiting.
For more than a century and a half, he had been waiting, and finally…
Glancing up, he saw her. A flash of gold on her upswept ponytail. She was walking across his land, calmly, slowly, confidently. Looking around like she knew vaguely where she was…like she remembered…
Slowly, Luke stood up and moved away from the table, over to the door.
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And now he waited again, but just for a few minutes. As she got closer, crossing the acres, he left his house and stood on the porch, leaning one shoulder negligently against a white post as he watched her.
Chelsea Jane moved with the confident easy grace of a modern woman, one who knew where she was going in life, what she wanted from it, and how she would get it.
And as she met his eyes, she studied him appraisingly, with masked eyes, and he wasn’t sure he liked that part. Katie had always been so easy to read. He didn’t like knowing that this woman hid thoughts from him. Why she wanted to.
When she came to a stop in front of him, her first words were delivered blandly, casually, as she dusted her hands off. “You’re most likely going to think I’m insane.
And up until recently, I’ve been the picture of normalcy in life.”
Quirking a brow at her, Luke decided that wasn’t exactly what he had been expecting from her. “Well, I’ve seen quite a few odd things in my life, Chelsea Jane.
Why don’t you give me a try?”
“Actually that’s just what I’m here to do.” Then she blushed and she clapped a hand over her mouth as if mortified. “Oh, man. I can’t believe I just said that.”
Heat shot through his body and his cock stiffened as he straightened, pushing away from the post. Sliding his gaze down the length of her body and back up again, he met her eyes levelly and said gruffly, “I’d be more than happy to oblige. Care to come inside first?”
“Damn it, that’s not what I meant to say…at least not first,” she said, flustered, blowing her bangs out of her eyes. Her eyes, warm and golden, were glittering in her embarrassment and she shifted from one foot to the other. “I’m trying to…to find some information about somebody. His name was Collin Lucas Frost, and his bride’s name was Katherine Greene.”
She’d pieced together quite a bit, Luke thought as he moved down the stairs. “I don’t go into town much. And I’m no historian. I’m afraid I can’t help you much, Chelsea Jane. But why don’t you come inside anyway—”
He reached for her arm just as she stepped up to him and whispered against his mouth, “Don’t tell me that, Lucas. I dream of you at night, before I even saw you. And you know why. I can see it in your eyes.”
Any attempt to speak died as she slanted her mouth across his.
The taste of her, after so many years, flooded his senses and Luke was lost. With a savage groan, he grabbed her roughly and pulled her against him, yanking her hair down and burying his hand in the masses of sunlit caramel blonde as he took her down to the sun-warmed grass, struggling out of his shirt and tossing it down on the grass before jerking the straps of the backpack down her arms and urging her backward, all without breaking contact with her mouth.
Keening hungrily in her throat, her arms locked around his neck. Luke wanted to bellow out with triumph as he slid one hand inside her shorts and found her, wet and waiting for him. Stripping her shorts away, he freed himself and drove inside, pushing 122
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relentlessly deeper until he was lodged balls-deep in the sweet, wet well of her pussy, the slick, satiny tissues closing eagerly, tightly around him and hugging him in a snug hold as he tore his mouth from hers to suck air into his starving lungs.
“Lucas, Luke,” she sobbed, pressing her brow against his as her body shuddered under his.
The sweet, silken grasp of her creamy sheath convulsed and Luke groaned, pulling out and sinking back in, shuddering as she caressed each throb of his aching cock.
“Shhh…it’s okay. You’re here. That’s all that matters now. My love, my own true love.
You’re back, and you’re mine, always.”
“Luke, please.”
With a wicked grin, he teased, “Do you remember what to say?”
“Fuck me,” she moaned, drawing her thighs up and hugging his hips, tightening the muscles in her pussy around his cock and making him shudder. His eyes crossed at the sheer pleasure of it and he groaned. “Baby, don’t do that.”
“Damn it, Luke, please!”
“Oh, I’ll please you,” he purred into her ear, pulling his cock out and sinking back in, shifting his weight so he could stroke his thumb over the tight, swollen bud of her clit, over and over again, the sweet cream coating his thumb, scenting the air and driving him mad. “I’ll please you, I promise.” He plunged in, deep and hard, her scream echoing in the air as she started to come around him in quick, hard waves that stole his breath.
He held back, gritting his teeth and riding her through it, and then he pulled out of her, still stiff, hard and aching. “I’m not done…” he murmured against her ear.
Scooping her into his arms, he carried her into the house, up the stairs and into the bed.
CJ stared up at him as he spread her thighs and settled on his belly between them.
“I’ve dreamed, for years, and years, of doing this again, Chelsea Jane,” he murmured, pressing his mouth, that firm, sculpted mouth, against her thigh as one hand slid under her thigh, her bottom, cupping the cheek of ass in his hand and holding her. “I can’t tell you how much I’ve needed this.”
The heat in his eyes, the sheer, unadulterated hunger, stole her breath and had her heart hammering against her ribcage as he lowered his mouth to the wet, aching folds between her thighs. One long slow lick, and then he flicked his tongue around the bud of her clit, before stroking up and down her slit again. One stroke of his thumb opened her folds and he pierced her with his tongue, pushing it deep inside and she whimpered, his hands spreading the cheeks of her ass apart, stroking down the dark crevice there as his mouth moved lower and lower.
His hand moved between her thighs. Shifting again, he fastened his mouth on her clit and started to suckle, drawing it deep as he started to slowly fuck her with his fingers. And his other hand…it had moved and was gathering cream from her pussy, spreading it lower and lower.
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Oh…pushing ever so slowly inside the tightly puckered hole of her anus. So slowly…stretching her gently, the bite of it arching her up against his mouth as she started to come.
She screamed and arched, bucking against his mouth and riding his fingers, unaware she taking more and more of his finger slowly inside her ass as she rode him.
“Luke! ”
“Shh…” he murmured, pushing slowly in and out, stretching her, working her as she came.
Her lashes fluttered open in time to see him stripping out of the jeans he had tugged back up when he had carried her inside. Coming down on her, he drove inside, catching her thighs wide and surging deep, driving into her hard and fast, covering her mouth with his and swallowing the scream that started to fall from her lips.
His chest, pressed against hers, was hot, burning, his heart, slamming against her, his chest moving raggedly with each breath he took as he drove deeply inside her cleft, riding her roughly, holding her thighs wide and open. CJ could taste herself on his mouth, and underneath it, him, a taste that was so bizarrely familiar and so damn necessary, she didn’t know how she had survived this long without it.
&n
bsp; Her heart trembled as she felt herself start to come again.
And he moaned her name against her lips as he started to jet off inside her.
“When did you start to remember?”
Snuggling her cheek against the warm, smooth vault of his chest, she murmured,
“About a week after I came back. I started having dreams. Then I was reading one of her journals and I started daydreaming. I knew how it ended before I finished it—
exactly how it ended. I thought I was losing my mind.”
Threading his hand through her hair, Luke pressed his lips to her brow. “I’ve been waiting so damn long.” A soft laugh escaped him and he murmured, “I think I’ve lost track of how long I’ve been here.”
“You have to come home, you know that, don’t you?”
With a slow, feral smile, and his eyes gleaming, Luke responded, “I’ve just been waiting for the doors to open to me again.”
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Chapter Five
Their hands linked loosely together, Luke and CJ stood at the back gate, the closest he had been to the plantation in more than a century. “He knows who I am,” CJ said softly. Fear, remembered fear, was started to brew in her gut as she stared at the house.
Even though the day was bright and it was just past noon, a shadow had seemed to cast itself over the house and the oppressive weight of it was already spreading to her.
“Of course he does, love. But he wasn’t able to scare you away. That must have pissed him off something awful.” Glancing at her, his dove-gray eyes softened as he studied her face. “I’m sorry I didn’t come back sooner, and keep him away from you completely.”
CJ flushed. It wasn’t right, that he apologize for that. What Davenport had done had been Davenport’s wrong. “Don’t. Katherine Greene had other people she could have told, other people she could have spoken to. She could have gone back to her parents’ house, or to stay with family in another county. She chose to stay at the plantation. It wasn’t his…or your fault for her silence.”
He laughed. “It was another life ago, wasn’t it? Even for me. And we will leave it that way…after I settle an old score.”
Through the gate they went, and CJ’s grip on his hand tightened and the weight on her shoulders, in her chest, grew with every step. More memories from that last night flashed through her mind—hearing the gunshots from outside, watching Davenport swagger back up to the house through the rain, seeing him staring at her through the thin cotton of her nightrail as she stared at him, horrified, shocked, and grieving.