Shiver and Spice

by Kelley St. John

  “Yes, I am,” she argued, and before she decided to press her tightness farther down, and force him to lose all control, he shook his head.

  “That’s not what I mean. I know you’re ready emotionally, but you aren’t ready physically, and I think I can help.”

  She pressed both palms against his chest, then slowly moved back up his cock. “How?”

  Dax shifted his hips to remove his length from her. “Let me help you come, Celeste. That’s what you need to take me inside.” He licked his lips. “Let me taste you, chère, and help you come.”

  She sat up and tilted her head as though trying to figure out exactly how to situate themselves on the blanket to let him do what he wanted.

  “Turn around,” he said.

  Her dark eyes grew big, but she did as he asked. And then, to his complete shock and delight, she announced, “If we’re doing it like this, then I want to taste you, too.” She shifted forward, bringing her mouth to the tip of his penis and placing her sweet center exactly where he wanted it, close enough to taste. She was already wet, and Dax had no doubt he could make her drenched and more than able to let him in, deep inside. He just prayed that she could stay on this side, stay with him, after he took her where she wanted to go.

  She licked the base of his cock, then kissed the length of him, swirling her tongue around the tip before taking him in, and while she did, Dax kissed her intimate center, then licked, nibbled and kissed his way to the sensitive nub that he knew would give her what she needed. He concentrated on each sound she made, the moans that told him where she was the most receptive of his touch, and the sharp gasps that said she was ready to soar. Those, as he’d learned last night, were produced each and every time he flicked his tongue over her clitoris, so he did it again and again, then reveled in the tightening of her entire body, and then the pulsing convulsions and sweet juices produced by her orgasm.

  She’d long since forgotten tasting him, her senses apparently completely absorbed in what he was doing to her, which was just as well. This time, he wanted to come…right here. He licked the very spot, and then was welcomed with another gasping climax.

  Another kiss to her center, and then he asked, “Do you think you’re ready to take me now, Celeste?”

  He didn’t have to ask twice. This time, when she moved down on him, to Dax’s delight, she eased him all the way in, her center slick and hot and right. Then she looked at him, and her eyes had moved beyond charcoal into a carbon color that was way too close to the black he was dreading. “Celeste, we need to—”

  She braced her hands on his chest and lost herself in the rhythm, moving up and down his length with exquisite friction, her gasps and moans escalating with every push, every pull, every clenching of her intimate walls. “No,” she said. “I can’t stop. I want to feel it—when it happens—and when you fill me up completely. Let me—have it all. I want you inside of me, coming inside of me. Let me feel it. Let me have—you.”

  Her words pushed away his reserve, and the spiraling tension built higher and higher, hotter and hotter, until Celeste tossed her hair back, thrust her breasts out and yelled his name.

  The sight of her, the woman he’d wanted more than any other, losing complete control—with him—and giving him everything she had, everything he’d wanted for so long, sent Dax over the edge. “I love you, Celeste,” he said, desperate to tell her now, desperate to make sure she knew. “I—love you.” His orgasm rocketed through him, and through her, and then the illumination of her spirit blinded him, and her black eyes bore into his soul. She screamed his name once more…and was gone.

  13

  CELESTE COLLAPSED on the cold stone floor and closed her eyes. She was drained, emotionally and physically. He’d made love to her and it’d been the best thing she’d ever experienced, so wonderful, so magical, that she hadn’t been willing to let him stop, even though she could feel her spirit being pulled away. She’d wanted to be with him so much, just once, that she’d given everything she had. And now she had nothing left. No way to fight the pull of that light.

  Or could she?

  She lifted her head from the floor and glanced at the doorway to Dax’s world, closed solid, and she knew better than to expect Adeline to open it for her anytime soon. Besides, even if it were wide open now, Celeste didn’t think she had even enough energy to crawl through, much less walk. And what about the light?

  She looked toward that middle wall and half expected the big, golden door to open and swallow her up, but amazingly, it remained closed…for now. She shut her eyes again and hoped it stayed that way, long enough for her to rest and to get back out of here, back to Dax.

  How long would she have to rest this time before she could make it back through? Or would she ever be able to go back again?

  Tears trickled down her cheeks, but she didn’t bother wiping them away. She was too tired for even that. She was so cold. Her body shivered, and the coolness of the floor against her tear-dampened cheek seemed to intensify as she lay there, wallowing in her misery. She’d had Dax, and she’d lost him.

  “I love you, too,” she whispered, but she knew he couldn’t hear her.

  Would he ever?

  Celeste heard laughter, then sensed a hint of warmth in the room. She opened her eyes to see Angelle, giggling as she watched the pinprick of light on the middle wall grow.

  “Look!” she exclaimed. “It’s nearly time!”

  Like before, the light grew bigger and bigger, until Celeste’s cold spirit was bathed in blissful warmth. It felt so good that she couldn’t stay away, and she inched closer to it.

  “I thought I’d see you at my program, but Dax said you were gone. He looked really sad,” the little girl said. “Hey, are you hurt? Do you need help going in?”

  Celeste blinked. Did she need help? Yes, she did, though not the kind of help the sweet girl was offering. She wasn’t ready to go into that light, not yet, no matter how good it felt. And Angelle had seen Dax at her program. Celeste was supposed to have gone to the play with Dax, or she had planned to, but she hadn’t been able to resist the temptation of truly being with Dax in order to stay longer.

  More tears fell, and she let them.

  “I’ll help you.” Angelle walked toward Celeste, then moved behind her and wrapped her arms tightly around Celeste’s chest. “I’ll get you there,” the little girl said, slowly pulling Celeste backward toward the ever-growing light.

  Celeste tried to drag her feet and slow Angelle’s surprising progress, but she was so weak, and the little girl was suddenly very strong. “No, Angelle,” she whispered. “Don’t—want—to go.”

  Angelle loosened her hold, but they were already so near to the light that Celeste could feel the pull of its warmth, and another draw, one that was so forceful that she was having a very difficult time fighting its allure.

  But she would. For Dax.

  “I can’t go in yet,” she whispered, then she turned to see Angelle’s face, and gasped.

  Several children’s faces had formed within the light, and they all smiled and reached for Angelle.

  “You should come with me,” Angelle said. “They say it’s amazing there. We’re going to go play. Isn’t that awesome?”

  “How—how do you know them?” Celeste’s voice was so weak that she could barely hear herself speak, but Angelle heard.

  “From the hospital. We all knew we were coming here one day, and we promised to help each other when it was time to go. Now they’re here to take me inside. Don’t you want to come?”

  Celeste shook her head. “No, sweetie. Not yet.”

  Angelle eased Celeste back to the floor. “You sure you’re going to be okay here? I really do think you’re supposed to come with me, you know.”

  “I’ll be okay.” Celeste assumed that was the truth. She really didn’t know whether she’d be okay or not. Would she languish here in this room forever because she was fighting that light?

  “Okay.” Angelle squatted next to Celeste
and hugged her. “Thank you for everything. And you know what?”

  “What?”

  “I’d have liked you for a teacher. You’d have been a really good one.”

  Celeste’s eyes watered, and she nodded, not knowing what to say.

  Angelle stood, and Celeste watched several of the children in the light reach out and touch her arms, then pull her inside. “Bye!” she yelled, then her glowing body joined the light, and all of their faces disappeared.

  But the light didn’t go away, and Celeste soon saw why. Another hand reached out and moved toward her face, and she was too weak to even back away. If it pulled her in, she’d have to go. She simply had no more strength to resist.

  “Not yet,” she whispered. “Please, not yet.”

  The glowing hand came closer and slowly pushed her hair away from her face, then one finger tenderly brushed a tear away, then another. The palm moved to her forehead, then gently smoothed down the length of Celeste’s hair.

  She knew that touch, could almost picture the man who’d always caressed her hair that way.

  “Granddaddy?”

  The hand moved to Celeste’s cheek, and brushed more tears away. Celeste had no doubt that her grandfather, the kindhearted man who had died when she was fourteen, was now taking care of her once more. Stroking her hair. Drying her tears.

  “Not yet, Granddaddy. Please. I want to be with him. I can’t leave, not yet.”

  Pausing for a moment, the hand touched Celeste’s cheek once more, then disappeared. The light disappeared with it, leaving the middle room—and Celeste—in complete darkness.

  She heard the voices down the path to the right. They were screaming something, but she was too spent to determine what the words were.

  Was it her name?

  Maybe, maybe not. She couldn’t concentrate enough to be sure.

  Was it possible to actually end it all in the middle? To stay right here, freezing cold and unable to move, unable to speak, and then simply stop existing? Because that’s what she felt like right now, like if she stopped thinking, stopped listening, that she would merely fade away. No more voices. No more light.

  And no more Dax.

  She couldn’t let that happen, Celeste realized as her eyes grew so heavy that she couldn’t keep them open. She fought that, too. How would she have a chance at going back down Dax’s path if she couldn’t even keep her eyes open to see the way?

  The shivering intensified and reminded her of that type of uncontrollable shaking that occurred when individuals were in shock, or intense pain. She’d seen a lot of people go through that on the day of the bus wreck. Was that what was causing her to tremble from head to toe, her teeth audibly chattering and the chilling sound echoing off the walls of this room? Or was she simply cold? Or tired?

  Or fading from existence?

  Don’t! she mentally screamed, trying to force her eyes to remain open. But in spite of all her efforts, her spirit lost all ability to fight the inevitable, and her lids slid closed.

  14

  DAX WIPED his forearm across his sweaty brow and stared at the piles of brown and gold magnolia leaves lining the driveway. He could have waited until Saturday, when all of the cousins would come to the plantation for their weekly workday, to rake the mountains of leaves. No doubt the job wouldn’t have been so difficult with a few more hands, but then his muscles wouldn’t be aching, his back wouldn’t be hurting and his body wouldn’t be covered in hard-earned sweat.

  Right now, he wanted to ache, hurt and sweat. He wanted his body to feel, the same type of misery that his soul was feeling.

  For the past three weeks, since the day Celeste had disappeared, he’d worked sixteen-hour days six days a week, in an effort to keep himself so busy he wouldn’t remember how badly he hurt.

  It hadn’t helped. He’d only had more time behind the wheel to think about the precious few hours he’d spent with Celeste, and to think about how barren his life would be without her.

  What if they’d permanently exhausted her spirit from that last visit? Had she crossed over completely because she didn’t have the strength to fight it anymore?

  He dropped the rake, took off his gloves and flung them away, then saw Nanette’s car heading up the driveway. She slowed as she neared, rolled down her window and cleared her throat.

  “It’s Wednesday,” she said.

  “Right.” He really wasn’t in the mood for small talk, or even a sarcastic “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  “Okay. So, it’s the middle of the week, and you don’t look as though you’ve been to work today.” She glanced behind her. “And judging from those piles of leaves, you’ve been raking all afternoon.”

  When Dax didn’t comment, or ask her point, she continued, “Well, I’m glad you finally decided to take a day off. You’ve been working yourself to death ever since—well, for the past few weeks.”

  “Working myself to death?” he questioned, scoffing at her odd choice of words, particularly when their family dealt with the dead on a regular basis. “Not quite. And I didn’t willingly take a day off. My regional rep ordered me to take the rest of this week and all of next week off to relax. Seems he was tired of explaining why I was showing up twice as often as normal.”

  She smirked. “Well, good for your regional rep. But if you’re supposed to be relaxing, you’ve got a funny way of going about it. Why didn’t you wait until we could help you with all of that?”

  “Didn’t want to.” He could have said more, but of the things he didn’t want to do right now, talking about Celeste topped the list.

  “Fine. Well, I’m going in to start dinner. I had a heck of a day at school, by the way, in case you’re interested. It started with one of the sophomores accidentally stepping on the gas instead of the brake when he was trying to park his car, and sending the thing into the building near my classroom.”

  Dax’s eyes widened. “He okay?”

  She laughed. “He’s fine. Shook up, but okay. So don’t worry, he shouldn’t be visiting you anytime soon.”

  “That’s good.” Dax was glad the boy was all right, but he did hope that he got another ghostly visit soon. He figured it would better his chances of seeing Celeste.

  “Leave the piles, and we’ll bag them later,” she said, then drove off.

  Dax decided to take her up on that offer. He’d been raking the majority of the afternoon, and he was ready to head inside and cool down. True, it was November now, but in Louisiana, while some months might be cooler, they all fell pretty much under the same classification—hot.

  He picked up his discarded gloves and slapped them against his jeans to remove the excess dirt, then he grabbed the rake and started heading toward the work shed behind the house. Rounding the corner of the porch, he stopped walking to take in the scene. Red. Everywhere. His grandmother’s prized poinsettias blazed crimson and towered against the side of the house in a brilliant hedge that would be worthy of a Southern Living cover photo.

  Grandma Adeline would be proud. And Celeste would be awed.

  “I told Nelsa that when I got married one day, I wanted a Christmas wedding. The bridesmaids would wear red, and they’d carry poinsettias. I didn’t even know they could grow this big, or I’d have wanted to get married in a place where they could surround me, like this one.”

  With Celeste’s words echoing in his thoughts, Dax turned away from the poinsettias and continued to the shed. He deposited the gloves and rake, then used the rear entrance of the house. He didn’t want to walk past those poinsettias again.

  Nanette stood near the stove and spooned rice into two deep bowls, then covered it with gumbo out of a huge black iron pot. Her smile beamed as she turned. “You cooked, and it smells fabulous.”

  Dax nodded. He’d done plenty today to keep himself busy. Cooking the gumbo had only been one small part of it. He’d also started sanding the floor in the front room that used to be a formal parlor. Right now, it was merely another empty room in need of repai
r. Good thing the place had plenty of them; he’d find an ample supply of work to keep his mind off Celeste. Then again, that hadn’t worked today, had it?

  Nanette moved the bowls to the table, then got some drinks from the fridge. “Come on, I’m starving.”

  “I need a quick shower first, then I’ll head back down.”

  “Well, hurry, before the gumbo gets cold.”

  He nodded, left the kitchen and started toward his room, but he didn’t really care if the gumbo was cold. He had no appetite, for gumbo or anything else…except Celeste. His hunger for her was palpable, and quite possibly would never be satisfied.

  With that still on his mind, he entered the shower. As each hot droplet of water covered his skin, he remembered Celeste’s trembling hands, her warm mouth, her sweet kisses. It’d been three weeks, and he hadn’t gone one minute of that time without thinking of her. Right now, in fact, he could see her so clearly, the way she’d looked when they’d made love. Those golden curls tumbling wildly around her as her body moved over his, her mouth caressing his neck, nuzzling him as her sweet, hot center accepted every inch of him.

  He could almost hear her softly moaning, then those moans turning into sharp gasps as she thrust her hips and brought him deep, deep within her. And he could feel the tensing of her flesh around him, holding him so tight as her climax grew imminent.

  Dax bowed his head and closed his eyes as the hot water pelted him. Then he circled his cock with his hand in an effort to reproduce what was happening in his mind. There, she was riding him, fiercely determined to claim every inch of him and to bring him to the same kind of powerful orgasm that was building within her.

  In reality, Dax was finally succumbing to his baser needs. Three weeks was way too long to go without a release, and one minute was way too long to go without Celeste.

  He thought of her again, of the way those dark eyes closed slightly as she came, and the way her mouth parted in sweet, delicious abandon…and his body tensed, his erection pushed forward as though trying to get inside of the woman in his mind, and his hips jerked in orgasm.