She put her hands on his broad shoulders, wanting to knock him back onto his bed, but resisting. She could have him inside her in seconds. This was torture. The most exquisite, erotic, pleasurable torture she had ever endured.
“Look at me,” he said again.
She didn’t know when her eyes had rolled shut or her head had listed against her shoulder, but she snapped herself back to attention. She didn’t want to miss a single nuance of what he was doing to her.
She shifted her weight and let out a moan. Even that small movement sent shivers up from between her legs to her breasts, intensifying the effect of his touch. With his right hand, he dusted the backs of his knuckles along her stomach. His left lovingly traced the curves of her backside before he rested his forearm firmly against it.
She wasn’t sure what he had in mind until he slid his right hand past the waistband of her panties, his wrist stretching the elastic down to give him access. His fingers raked through her curls, finding her core and sliding in effortlessly.
She had known she was ready for him, but not how ready. She could only imagine what it would feel like for him to bury himself deep inside of her, to feel her body expand to welcome his shaft.
She groaned as her body clenched around him instinctively, her grip on his shoulders tightening as well. His hands were so large he was able to press the heel of his hand against her most sensitive spot, rubbing it in slow circles while his fingers stayed buried deep.
Her knees weakened as the pleasure he had been building in her burst into a bright flame. He was already helping to hold her up, pulling her closer as he scooted to the very edge of the bed.
Her body was on fire, sparking, more alive than she had ever felt. Her nerve endings sang his praises with every languid thrust and pull of his fingers.
He brought his mouth to her breasts again, his kisses more aggressive, demanding. She lifted one knee to rest on the bed, bringing herself closer to him. She wanted him buried inside of her—as deep as he could go. She had never wanted anything or anyone with such intensity.
“Garrett, please,” she moaned. “I need you. I want you.”
“Look at me.” His voice had devolved practically to a growl.
She blinked her eyes, staring down at him as if becoming aware she was dreaming while it was still going on. His fingers kept moving, palm pressed firmly against her.
Watching his face while he was pleasuring her made it even more intimate. Her quim was already starting to pulse around him, the sensations building to a tipping point.
“Come for me.”
“I…thought we would do that together.”
“Please, Rachel. I need this.”
He increased the speed of his fingers, arcing his hand away from her so he could press his thumb against her sweet spot, gently circling it. He stared into her eyes the whole time.
She held his gaze as long as she could, letting him see how his touch affected her, hoping that sharing this intimate moment would help him believe.
She was done running. This was the life she wanted. In his arms, in his bed, in his life. She rocked her body against him, letting the sensations flow through her, push the pressure building between her legs and deep in her abdomen higher than ever before.
On a gentle breath he said, “I love you.”
Her body seemed to collapse in on itself and then explode with infinite energy. She threw her head back and screamed as the release tore through her body, a shockwave of ecstasy that left her panting and writhing in his hands.
He finally stopped thrusting, but left his fingers buried within her, his chest heaving in time with her own. She felt her body continue to clench around him, sending aftershocks rippling through her.
He pulled her closer and she draped herself across his chest. She nuzzled his ear, then ran her tongue along its edge and nibbled his earlobe. As amazing as that orgasm had been, she still wanted more. Wanted to be closer, to feel him inside her. She wanted to share the deepest intimacy with him that she could.
When she thought she could speak again, she whispered, “I love you too.”
Chapter Twenty-One
The relief Garrett felt made his heart pound. That and watching Rachel’s uninhibited, absolutely open responses to his touch. There was no faking what she had felt, what he felt from her body through his hands.
The look in her eyes… He had almost lost control so many times, wanting to slide his shaft into her.
There was no need to rein himself in anymore.
He slid his fingers from her and pulled down her panties in one stroke. Most of her weight was already on his chest, and his arms were long enough that he only had to bend sideways a little to get the thin cotton fabric out of the way.
He stood, bringing her with him. The soft cotton of his waistband held his erection tight against his stomach. When her feet were firmly planted on the floor, he lifted her shirt over her head and tossed it aside.
He went to pull off his pants, but she was already there. She tore them off about as eagerly as he had stripped her, barely waiting for him to step out of them before leaping up and wrapping her arms around his shoulders.
Pulling him down a bit, she crashed her lips against his, tongue hungrily seeking his out. He met every thrust, savoring the velvet feel of her mouth.
He loved that she was tall. He still had over half a foot on her, but he didn’t loom over her like he did most women. She had to be pushing six-feet. He cupped her backside, squeezing and kneading the firmness of it.
She pressed herself against him, rubbing her stomach against his shaft. Her skin was so soft. She worked one arm between them to grip him, wrapping her fingers around his erection and starting to work her magic. Then she stopped abruptly and pulled away.
This was not happening. No way after everything they had just done was she stopping this. He couldn’t believe it.
“I’m not going too fast am I? Do you want me to go slower?”
He let out a laugh that took the tense energy with it. That had scared the crap out of him.
“I want you to do whatever the hell you want.”
Her lips pulled into a smile that was pure sex. His breath rushed out as if he’d been kicked in the chest. She let go of his shaft, then put her hands on his shoulders and pushed him down so he was sitting close to the edge of the bed.
As much as he wanted to feel her lips on him again, nothing could compare to being inside of her. And he wanted that so bad he was bursting at the seams.
She must have felt the same, because she put her knees on either side of him, using her grip on his shoulders to keep her balance. He grabbed her backside to help.
“You should know I was always smart with the few guys I slept with,” she said. “We used protection and I get tested regularly.”
“Okay.” Of all the times to bring that up. Yeah, he supposed this was a pretty good one. “Well, my experience is the same.”
“I just want you to know because I was serious with that talk about kids. I want them. Tons of them. I don’t want to wait.”
He swallowed hard. What she was suggesting…
It was fast and sudden, like everything with Rachel. He started to do the math, calculating their ages and thinking about genetic risk factors, how many years they had left and how long they should wait between each child. Then there was the danger the ghosts presented.
No. He wouldn’t let fear make up his mind. He thought about what he wanted instead. The decision was obvious.
A house full of children, a life full of love. With Rachel.
They would always face challenges—ghostly and otherwise. But they would figure them out together.
He couldn’t force words around the lump in his throat so he nodded.
Without any more of a prelude, she lined herself up on him and slowly inched down. Bliss cascaded
through him, a buzz of pleasure cantering along every nerve fiber.
Her flesh parted around him, unbelievably soft and slick. And the heat… It soaked into him, flooding his body as she pushed him deeper, taking all of him in.
For a moment, she stayed still, her hands gripping the back of his neck, gazes locked. His heart was pounding, his blood rushing through his body. His hands were trembling.
She loved him. This was what the rest of his life looked like.
He let his gaze slide down her body, lingering on the fullness of her breasts before grazing her flat stomach and finally resting on where they were joined. He took a deep breath to keep himself from getting too worked up. He wanted it to last—this first time of complete intimacy.
She started to move again, slower than he’d expected after the way she mounted him. She lifted herself up onto her knees, sliding along his length as far as she could, then lowered herself back down. He brushed his thumbs along her hips and squeezed her backside as he watched.
So. Fucking. Erotic.
She clenched her sheath around him, as if asking for his attention elsewhere. He was more than happy to oblige.
He let his gaze climb again, lingering only for a moment on her breasts as they swayed with her movement. He swallowed hard and kept going.
Her cheeks were flushed, her lips bright pink and full. Her eyes were open wide, like she was as moved by the experience as he was and didn’t want to miss a thing.
She leaned forward to kiss him. Slow and deep, same as her hips. She was savoring him—giving him the chance to savor her. This was night and day from the recliner. Not that there wasn’t a time and place for quickies.
His imagination went crazy with possible scenarios. The kitchen counter, the shower, the couch… Any horizontal surface was fair game. Hell, the vertical ones, too. He wanted her anywhere he could have her. He knew she could satisfy him, but he’d never get enough. He wanted her—forever. Just like she’d said.
He broke off the kiss and said, “There’s a Justice of the Peace I know. He could hitch us this afternoon.”
She laughed, the vibration traveling through her body and into his. His fingers tightened on her backside reflexively and he took another deep breath to calm himself.
“I want a big wedding, Doctor Wolfstrom.”
“That is the first time I’ve ever liked being called that.”
She bent down and nibbled along the length of his ear. Goose bumps scattered over his skin, heightening the sensations everywhere they touched. Especially where they were joined.
She whispered into his ear, “I promise I’m not going anywhere.”
Rising back on her knees, she wrapped her arms around his neck again and quickened her pace. “Lean back on your arms. I won’t fall.”
“Yes ma’am,” he drawled.
She grinned—her nose crinkling up the way he liked. When he placed his palms on the mattress, she gripped his shoulders for balance and upped her pace again.
The view was unbelievable. With the better leverage, he thrust up into her, meeting her hips with his own. It deepened each stroke, amped up the friction. His skin was thrumming with sensation, nerves lighting up everywhere.
The pleasure coaxed him to move faster, land harder. She matched him perfectly, taking everything he had to give her. He bent his head forward far enough to kiss her breast and she gasped, arcing her back so he could reach her nipple.
He ran his tongue around the tight circle, then sucked it deep into his mouth till she groaned. He had no idea she was so flexible. He was definitely going to have to work on his core strength after this.
He released her breast as she increased her pace again, focusing on matching every movement. She held on tight, eyes clenched shut as she pumped him even faster.
His hips rose to meet her, crashing into her as more sparks ran through his body, pressure building until he felt her spasm around him. She threw her head back and screamed his name.
The pressure within him exploded and he rammed his shaft into her as fast and hard as he could, spilling himself deep inside of her. Her muscles pulsed around him, coaxing everything out of him, everything he had to give.
It was hers. He would always give her everything he could.
She let out a moan and her breath hitched. She was still writhing on him. He kept on thrusting, even as he felt himself growing soft.
She dug her nails into his shoulders, eyes shut tight, head back. Another climax?
She let out a huge breath and finally sagged against him. He could still feel her pulsing around him.
Good Lord. And he thought he had trouble keeping up with her before…
Chapter Twenty-Two
After the incredible afternoon she had spent in bed with Garrett, Rachel didn’t expect to wake up from a nightmare. She shot up in bed, glancing around the room frantically. For a few moments, she was disoriented, trying to figure out where she was and what was going on.
Garrett sat up and wrapped his arms around her. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She shook her head. “Just another nightmare.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“I don’t know. It felt so real.”
He shrugged. “It might help.”
What a novel concept. Talking openly about something she had been keeping secret for decades. The chill of the dream receded at the thought of sharing this with Garrett—something she hadn’t told anyone about.
“It isn’t just from recent events. I’ve had nightmares for about as long as I can remember. Not every night, but more often than I’d like.”
“That sounds awful.”
“It used to be standard ghost stuff. I had actually acclimated to it. But since what happened with Michael, they’ve changed. Now there are two men reaching for me. One of them feels cold and…twisted. Like Michael. But the other one is warm and loving.”
“Maybe that one’s me.” Garrett nuzzled her neck and she leaned into him.
“No. There’s definitely a different feel to this one. More…familial.” She shook her head. “It’s strange, even for me. It felt like the warm energy was trying to find me, but couldn’t because of Michael. Like Michael was keeping the other one away.”
“Is it possible your powers are trying to tell you something?”
“I hope not.”
Garrett leaned far enough to the side that she could see his quizzical expression.
“There’s an urgency to the dreams that has been building. And this last one…” She shivered at the memory. “Whoever was trying to find me, the warm energy, it was grabbed by Michael’s energy and…absorbed or something. It was awful.”
She leaned into Garrett’s chest to calm herself down. The fear from her nightmares usually faded quickly. This one left her with a lingering sense of anxiety.
“I hate to keep asking this, but—”
“Michael is gone. He has to be. Spirits need a corporeal connection. I have it from people in-the-know.”
“Don’t ghosts ever lie?”
“Of course they do.” She thought of Misha and her suspicions. This didn’t seem the best time to bring up the topic. “Hiram isn’t the only one I talked to about it.”
“Another ghost?”
“I keep telling you, it isn’t always about ghosts.”
“Who then?”
“The woman who owns Bookwyrm is a medium named Chloe. She does readings in the store sometimes. She’s into the showmanship of the whole divination thing and really dresses for the part.” Rachel laughed and said, “You should have seen my mother’s face when Chloe showed up at the house the first time.”
“Sounds like you should have sold tickets.”
“Yeah. Chloe’s the one who taught me about poppets and how to use a witch’s ball. She still sometimes sends me books, but
we have to be careful.”
“Why?”
“For one, my mother threatened to sue her. I didn’t take that threat lightly. Lillian would have found a way to ruin Chloe. And Chloe and I were trying to keep the ghosts from figuring out I could hear them so they would stop bothering me. Hanging out with her would raise their suspicions.”
“She doesn’t have your problem with ghosts?”
“Chloe isn’t clairsentient. Not like me, anyway. She has to do all sorts of ritual preparations to contact the other side.”
Chloe had always told Rachel what a gift her powers were. Now that things had changed, maybe Rachel could go to Chloe and learn more. For the first time since Rachel was a child, she was actually excited about what she could do.
“Can she help us with Michael’s victims?” Garrett asked.
“I was just thinking something along those lines. I think she can. She’ll be very happy I’m away from my mom.”
“We’re all happy about that. Especially me.” He kissed the side of her neck—a small nip, but then he nuzzled her ear and moved to her lips.
This was much better than talk of nightmares and dysfunctional families. Rachel wrapped her arms around Garrett’s neck and kissed him back. She was about to push him flat on the bed when her stomach growled loudly.
Garrett broke off the kiss.
“Sorry,” she said. “I think we forgot to eat.”
“We should take care of that.”
He slid to the edge of the bed, holding on to her hand as she followed. He didn’t let go while they walked to the kitchen. She stood on her tiptoes to kiss him, and finally dropped his hand so she could open the fridge.
“Sandwiches?”
He laughed and retrieved some plates from the cabinets. “What is it with you and turkey sandwiches?”
“They’re nature’s perfect food.”
Rachel rooted around in the fridge for what she needed, then set everything on the counter. They worked in silence, exchanging a few sidelong glances and smiles. Garrett filled a pair of glasses with a sports drink and his grin turned wicked.
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