Through His Heart (Mind's Eye Book 3)

by Deborah Camp

In the next moment, sexual heat shimmered between them. As if reading her mind, Levi raised his arms so that she could pull his sweater and t-shirt up and over his head. She kissed his chin and jaw as she tossed his clothes onto the floor. She bit one of his nipples.

  He hissed, but naughtiness sparkled in his eyes. “You want to play rough?”

  “Maaaybeee,” she drew out the word while looking at him through her lowered lashes and then licked his other nipple. “Would you like that?”

  “Maaaybeee.” Cupping her backside, he steadied her as she gave a hop and wrapped her arms and legs around him. He carried her from the kitchen, through the dining room, and into the living room as he trailed kisses up her neck.

  Trudy glanced around, confused because she’d expected him to take her to the bedroom, but he’d headed in the other direction. She let out a little laugh when he dropped her onto her burgundy and gray striped sofa. The laugh ended in a gasp when he unceremoniously rid her of her yoga pants and panties in one long tug.

  “Levi!” She looked toward the windows and glass-paneled door. “Anyone could come up on the porch and see us!”

  “Let them look and learn.” He peeled her flannel shirt up over her head and tossed it away. Her bra quickly followed. “Christ, you’re such a beauty.” His lips skimmed along her shoulder. He straightened away from her to divest himself of his boots, socks, and black jeans. While he undressed, his gaze devoured her and heated her skin everywhere it touched.

  Fluttery feelings bombarded her stomach and scurried up her spine as he rested one knee on the couch cushion. He caressed between her thighs and a sly grin claimed his lips when he found her slick and pulsing. He sat next to her, his erection standing high and proud. Hooking an arm around her waist, her hauled her up and over onto his lap.

  “Ride me, Trudy. Ride me hard and make me beg for mercy.”

  His gruff order spiked her desire. Facing away, she eased onto him and gasped as he filled her. Her eyes closed slowly as her arousal ramped up. He was a tight fit, but she knew her body would adjust and welcome him as always, sheathing him, clutching him, claiming him. She rose up, letting him almost slip out, and then took him back inside, eliciting his pleasure-laden hum. Wiggling her hips, she seated him further within her before lifting again and coming down harder, her skin slapping against his.

  “Oh, yeah. Fuck, yeah.” His lips and tongue warmed her nape and traced a line from shoulder to shoulder. “Do that again – a couple dozen more times.”

  She tried, moving up and down, his hands assisting her by holding onto her waist to steady her, but her thighs began to burn. Always sensitive to her body’s reactions, Levi slipped his hands under her backside and took over, bucking up into her in swift, friction-spawning deliciousness that made her head spin and her eyes drift shut. Trudy moaned as her arousal suddenly exploded and fireworks burst from the center of her, singeing every nerve ending.

  “Levi, Levi, Levi,” she chanted his name, her breathing ragged and her heart thumping in her chest. Before she could even gather a decent breath, Levi was moving her off his lap and positioning her so that she was lying face down on the couch. He pushed a pillow under her stomach and palmed her, two long fingers sliding inside, stroking in and out as his thumb circled her throbbing clitoris. She squirmed and arched her back.

  He leaned over her, his warm breath fanning her cheek. “Get ready, baby. I’m coming in hot.”

  His words thrilled her. He plunged into her, releasing a grunt of pure, male possessiveness. She gave a little yelp, partly from surprise and partly from the immensity of him.

  His driving, almost frenzied pace and heavy breathing sent a message to her foggy brain. His lovemaking was always intense, but there was an underlying emotion playing itself out in him. A desperation or need to purge. Years of boarding up his feelings and protecting his heart had left him with two outlets – fighting and sex.

  His relentless pace pushed her up, up, and she came again in a deep shudder that started in her very center and spread out to her fingers and toes. As passion loosened its grip, she felt the telltale quiver race through him, followed by his sudden stillness. He groaned and pumped into her in rapid release. Then he seemed to melt over her, his long limbs falling around her, his chest and stomach warming her back. He dropped soft, seeking kisses on her neck and cheek.

  With a sigh, he shifted onto his side, pressing his length against the back of the couch as he pulled her into his arms. He didn’t actually hug her – he clung to her as if she were his security blanket.

  Trudy blinked away the moisture that stung her eyes at that realization. She raised her head to meet his unwavering gaze. Guilt coated her. “You don’t have to go to Missouri with me,” she whispered, lifting her hand to allow her fingertips to trace his full lower lip. “I can do it by myself. Maybe it won’t take too long.”

  He lowered his brows and determination firmed his jaw. “No. I’ll go with you. I won’t let him keep you from me. I won’t.”

  Chapter 3

  “I’m glad we have a chance to talk before you and Levi head for Missouri.” Dr. McLain straightened the paisley scarf loosely looped around her neck and stared straight into the computer’s camera with practiced ease. “It’s prudent to get a few things crystal clear about what Levi will probably experience. I’ve discussed this with him, but although he has an academic background in psychology and he knows his triggers, it’s likely that he won’t realize that he’s regressing. It’s human nature to downplay and even disregard danger signs.”

  Danger signs? Regressing? Trudy clenched her hands together in her lap and stared intently at the laptop screen.

  “You’re frowning,” Dr. McLain noted. “What’s troubling you?”

  Trudy leaned closer to the screen. “Do you really think Levi won’t be able to handle being in the vicinity of his father? He isn’t planning on even seeing him. And there isn’t any reason why he should. He won’t be working on this case.”

  Dr. McLain’s smile bordered on indulgence. “Being near his father will stir up all kinds of feelings and memories Levi has become adept at stuffing deep, deep down inside of him. Think of it this way – Levi is like a prisoner of war, except that, instead of entering prison as an adult, he was imprisoned as a child. He was subjected to brainwashing and different forms of torture. Therefore, he now suffers from PTSD.”

  Post-traumatic Stress Disorder. This wasn’t news to Trudy, but hearing it said aloud by his psychiatrist made it more real to her.

  “His parasomnia will probably worsen while he’s there, which means he won’t be able to sleep well and that will ramp up his stress.”

  “His what?”

  “Parasomnia. His night terrors. Nightmares. He told me that you’re aware that he has them.”

  “Yes, I am.” Her thoughts scurried back to one night when his dreams had transported him to a dark root cellar where he’d been placed as a child and kept for hours and even entire days and nights along with rats. She shivered, remembering how the night trauma had affected him. Her heart ached for that terrified little boy who had screamed so long and loud that he’d damaged his vocal chords.

  “I must tell you that he’s made astounding progress in the past few months.” Dr. McLain smiled and leaned forward a little so that her face almost filled the whole screen. “Since Key West he has improved by leaps and bounds.”

  Trudy felt her cheeks warm as her lips stretched into a smile. Ah, yes. Key West was special because it’s where the intensity of their attraction for each other had taken them both by storm. She wiped the smile from her face as a sobering thought sliced through her. “I don’t want to jeopardize his progress. If you think he shouldn’t go to Missouri, then—.”

  “No, I’m not suggesting that, Trudy,” Dr. McLain interrupted her. “In fact, this might be beneficial. We just won’t know on which side the coin will land – it could be good, could be bad.” She shrugged and glanced at her wristwatch, a habit no doubt honed by her profession. �
�What I want you to do is to be alert for behavior that demonstrates that Levi is in over his head. He’s naturally intense, but if he becomes overly agitated and combative, then you should tell him to pack up and head for Atlanta. Get him out of his father’s orbit before he crashes and burns.”

  Trepidation coiled in Trudy’s stomach and she squirmed in the office chair. She glanced toward the door, making sure that Levi wasn’t listening in. She could hear him talking in the kitchen where he was doing psychic readings for a radio station. Focusing on Dr. McLain again, she lowered her voice.

  “You don’t think he’d do something like get into a brawl if he happens to come face-to-face with his father, do you?”

  Dr. McLain sat back and tapped the bridge of her gold-framed eyeglasses with her forefinger. “I would like to say that isn’t a possibility, but I honestly don’t know. That would depend on his father’s behavior, as well, and I don’t know anything about John Comfort, other than what Levi has told me and what I’ve seen of him on his television program.”

  Trudy nodded. “I know nothing about the man either. Levi doesn’t talk about him to me.”

  Dr. McLain stared at the screen for a few seconds before heaving a quick sigh. “Good luck with your case, Trudy. I hope you find the little girl.”

  “So do I.” The woman knew when to keep her counsel, Trudy thought, not missing the psychiatrist’s refusal to reveal anything that Levi had told her about the Rev. John Comfort. “Thank you for your time and advice. I’ll keep an eye on Levi.”

  “He knows he can call me and I’m sure he will.” Dr. McLain checked her wristwatch again. “Good to talk to you, Trudy. I’m signing off now.” And with that, her image disappeared from the screen.

  Trudy blinked, then gave a short laugh. “Good-bye to you, too,” she murmured. She could certainly understand why Levi felt comfortable with Dr. McLain. She was a no-nonsense, no bullshit, no wasted words sort of gal. And she knew when to keep her trap shut. All qualities Levi admired.

  Closing the laptop, Trudy stood up slowly and left her office. She entered the kitchen where Levi sat with his back to her, his shoulders rounded and . . . shaking? Her heart stuttered at the sight and she took a step toward him, but then paused when he sat up straight and tall.

  “She was taking drugs, Mary. She was addicted to something.” His voice was whispery, his words spoken as if each had weight. He cocked his head to one side and Trudy could see the wire curling from the bud tucked into his ear as he listened to the caller. The other end of the wire was attached to his cellphone. “I understand it’s upsetting to hear this, but it’s what she’s telling me, what she’s showing me. She acknowledges that she hid it from you. But that’s what killed her. The autopsy was correct. There was no foul play.” He sat back in the kitchen chair, his shoulders slumping as he listened to the response. “The news isn’t always pleasant, Mary.” He was quiet for a minute and when he spoke again, his tone was more clipped, all business. “Certainly. It’s been my pleasure, Skip. I hope I’ve helped some of your listeners.” He lifted his hand slowly, laboriously, and yanked the bud from his ear, flinging it onto the kitchen table and then jabbing at his cellphone to disconnect the call.

  Trudy eased closer, sensing his dark, gloomy mood, marveling at his many jobs and commitments. He was definitely a workaholic – but not as much of one since they’d been together. She rested her hands on his shoulders and he tensed, but then settled when she began massaging his muscles. “These radio station gigs are tough on you.”

  He closed his eyes. “It’s always harder when I don’t have anything of the deceased’s to touch.” He lifted one hand from the kitchen table and fanned his thumb across his fingertips. “The spirits seem to be farther away and it’s difficult for me to hear them when I don’t have something of theirs to hold.” He rested his chin on his chest, allowing her easy access to his neck muscles. “So, how is the good Dr. McLain? Did she tell you to make me hightail it back to Atlanta if I start eating cockroaches or threaten to bite my old man’s head off?”

  Trudy winced. “Something like that.”

  “What else did she tell you?”

  “You already know. I’m sure you discussed what to say and what not to say with her.”

  He sighed. “It’s not like that, Tru. We don’t get together and get our stories straight. There are simply confidences she isn’t allowed to discuss and some I’m not ready to share.”

  “Will you ever be ready?”

  “I hope so. That’s the whole point of paying her a lot of money.”

  “What about me? You think you’ll ever trust me?”

  “I do trust you. This isn’t about trust. There are certain things . . . I don’t want to dredge them up.”

  “Do you think you’ll regress by coming with me to Missouri?”

  “Regress?” He rocked his head from side to side as if to unknot his muscles. “Is that a word she used?”

  “Just answer me.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  She massaged his shoulders for a few minutes and listened to a cardinal outside singing its heart out. Her thoughts circled lazily and came to rest on the reason he was so uptight. “Why do you do the radio shows? You have enough money, right?”

  A scoffing laugh rumbled across his lips. “I sure as hell don’t do it for the money. It’s good publicity. Keeps my name in front of people so they’ll buy my books and buy tickets to see me when I come to their city.”

  “But you’re well known. You’re famous. You don’t need the extra exposure, do you?”

  “I spent years building my reputation. I’m not going to take it for granted. There are always other psychics out there vying for attention.”

  “Not me.”

  “Not you, but you’ll be famous anyway.”

  She frowned. “I intend to stay in the background.”

  “I hate to burst your bubble, but you’re on the brink of fame, baby.”

  His prophesy chilled her and stilled her hands. He tipped his head back against her breasts and stared up at her.

  “You don’t realize how special you are, do you?”

  She smiled. “Special to you.”

  “Yes, and special as a psychic.” He straightened, stood, and threw his leg over the seat, sitting backwards in it to face her. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he hauled her up against the back of the chair. “What I do isn’t anything special. Talking to the deceased is a psychic staple. But what you can do . . . connecting with the thoughts of a living being . . . that is rare. In fact, I don’t know of anyone else who can actually do it. I know a couple of people who claim to be able to, but you’re the only psychic I’ve ever met who is the genuine article.”

  She listened, but found holes in his argument. “What you do is special. You told me yourself that your accuracy sets you apart from other mediums.”

  “Yes, that’s right. I’m good. Damn good.” He winked at her. “But you’re a diamond among crystals. You sparkle so brightly, you blind the rest of us.”

  Her heart melted into a puddle as he gazed at her with undisguised admiration. “I’m not . . . am I? You really don’t know anyone who can do what I do?”

  He shook his head slowly, deliberately, his blue eyes shining. “Nary a one.” He regarded her for a few moments before his lips twitched into a grin. “Does that freak you out?”

  “A little.” She swallowed the lump in her throat so that her voice would emerge stronger. “Quintara has told me that I’m one of a kind, but I figured she was exaggerating – as she’s known to do.”

  “This time your flamboyant mentor wasn’t embellishing the truth.” He rested his hands on her hips, his long fingers spreading across her jeaned backside. “At the risk of freaking you out more, I think you’ve only begun to reveal the extent of what you can do. You’re holding back because you’re afraid. I understand. I’ve been there.” His fingers flexed on her hips. “Take your time. Let it come to you gradually and don’t be scared. You’re stron
g and brave. You’ll be able to handle it.”

  “Handle what?” She shook her head as a ball of nerves grew in her stomach.

  “Your gift. Your incredible gift.”

  “You said you’d help me.”

  “And I will. I’m here for you.”

  She framed his achingly handsome face in her hands and her heart doubled in size. “How’d I get so lucky?”

  “I’m the lucky one.” He turned his face so that he could kiss her palm, but not before she saw darkness pass through his eyes like a specter. “And you’ll agree with me whole-heartedly once we’re in Missouri.”

  Chapter 4

  The mighty Mississippi River lapped at the edge of Cape Giradeau. Even in the car with the windows rolled up and the heater on, Trudy was sure she could smell the river. She gazed out the window at the cold, white-capped water and the snow covering the grassy levy. A shiver blew through her that had nothing to do with the weather. Switching her attention to the man driving her car, she noted Levi’s furrowed brow and the muscle ticking in his jawline – dead giveaways of the tumult of his closely held emotions.

  Rubbing her hands up and down her coat sleeves, she cleared her throat to snag his attention. He cut his eyes to her, looked away for a second, and then his gaze snapped back.

  “What?” he asked, his hands gripping the steering wheel more tightly.

  “I can already tell we’re closer to him . . . and closer to the little girl.”

  “How?” His black brows arched above his cobalt eyes.

  “I feel cold inside.”

  His lips quirked. “It’s winter. It’s snowing.”

  “This is different. It’s like my insides are crusted over with ice.” She shivered again and turned her face away from him. “How much farther?”

  He steered the car onto a tree-lined street. “Almost there. You okay?”

  She nodded, then flinched when his warm hand suddenly covered her cold ones clasped tightly in her lap. His warmth and concern seeped into her, calming her, imbuing her with confidence. She drew in a deep breath and then let it out slowly. “Thanks.”