Through Her Eyes

by Amber Morgan

  Or had she been brought here? Could it be the next victim's house? Or...his house?

  She drifted through the kitchen, into the living room, and up the stairs. The sound of running water indicated someone was in the shower and she felt a prick of concern. She didn't want to spy on anyone, but how was she supposed to learn anything useful otherwise?

  Upstairs was as normal as down. One bedroom, bed unmade, dirty socks all over the floor. A man's room, she guessed, seeing no women’s clothes anywhere. The bathroom was en suite, and the noise of the water kept her out of there for the moment. There was a second room, the door locked. Curiosity tugged Keira through the door. It was a weird sensation, floating through solid walls like they didn't exist. She felt like a ghost, and the anxiety that she might not be able to get back into her body hit her again. What happened if she couldn't? If she was stuck here in limbo?

  She pictured Dom's confident smile and pushed the thought aside.

  The locked room was a study. At first glance there was nothing unusual in here either, and she was about to leave when she noticed the bookshelf over the desk. It was loaded down with books on true crime, serial killers, cult killings, and human sacrifice. She shivered, an inexplicable chill running through her. It didn't have to mean anything, she reasoned. There was no law against owning books like this.

  But she'd been brought here, hadn't she?

  Or had she? She didn't know how OBEs worked, not really. Who was to say she'd been "brought here," as opposed to, hell, being dragged by a wind current?

  The door clicked behind her. She spun round, heart hammering. A man walked into the study, dressed in tattered jeans and nothing else. He was toweling off his shaggy blond hair, a scowl on his face. Something about him set her on edge immediately. His eyes were bright blue, sharp and intense as he scanned the room. Had he heard something? Sensed something? Keira trembled, chanting Simon's words over and over in her head as the man stared around the room. Nothing bad can happen. Nothing can touch you.

  The man padded into the room, running his fingers over the desk and the lamp, expression thoughtful. He tilted his head to one side as if listening, and then stared directly at Keira.

  There was no doubting it, no mistaking it at all. He stared right at her. Keira froze, staring back, absolutely certain he could see her, never mind that he wasn't supposed to. Her breath came in quick, ragged gasps, and Rudolf's reassuring words weren't so reassuring anymore. He could see her.

  Could he touch her?

  The man stalked towards her, face flushing red, an ugly, angry cast falling over his strong features. Keira stepped back instinctively, her non-corporeal body moving through the desk. She watched him track the movement, icy fear stealing through her. This wasn't possible, this wasn't supposed to happen. The panic she'd felt earlier came back full force. She could only think of one reason this might be happening. It was insane, but it resonated in her, as true as her own name.

  The realization broke something in her. The man lunged for her with a snarl and Keira screamed as blinding white light enveloped her.

  Chapter Four

  She snapped back into her body, thrashing and screaming in the water, hammering on the tank's lid. It popped open and Dom was there, lifting her out of the tank, his arms solid and strong. He sank to the floor and held her against his chest, murmuring things she couldn't quite make out, but it was comforting nonetheless. She clung to him, quaking.

  "What happened?" Simon asked, closing the tank and kneeling down next to them. There was concern in his voice, but more curiosity, a scientific sharpness that she didn't like.

  She couldn't answer at first. Her throat was too dry, the fear still too vivid. He'd seen her, he'd bloody seen her. It shouldn't have happened, shouldn’t be possible, according to Simon.

  She forced herself to speak for Dom's benefit more than Simon's. "I think I found the Slasher."

  "Tell me what happened." Dom eased them both upright, still holding onto her, stroking her wet hair. "Take your time."

  She was hotly aware of their bodies pressed together, of the fact that she was soaking wet and dressed only in a swimming costume. He stroked her back with one hand, playing with her sopping wet hair with the other. The only man she'd been close to in recent years was Dylan, and the feeling of Dom's hands on her was a revelation.

  A thin, inappropriate thread of arousal ran through her, her nipples hardening against his chest, and she was torn between clinging tighter to him and moving away.

  The sexual reaction was a convenient distraction from her panic, and she focused on quelling it, shifting away from Dom with an apology for getting him wet. Simon offered her a towel and once she was wrapped in that, shivering from cold and missing Dom's embrace, she explained, describing the man and his house as well as she could. "I know it was Shoreditch," she said, "but I've no idea where."

  "And you say he saw you?" Simon asked. "Can you be certain of that?"

  She nodded. There was no mistaking it. "He looked right at me – he tried to grab me."

  "Keira," Dom said carefully, "are you sure?"

  "It was him, Dom. I know it. He knew I was there somehow. I don't know how." She glanced at Simon. "After he attacked me, it formed this bond between us, didn't it? That's what started my OBEs. Well, doesn't it make sense that the connection would run both ways? That he's tied to me as much as I'm tied to him?"

  Simon spread his hands. "That's outside my area of expertise," he confessed, "but I can't say it's impossible. We still know so little about how the human mind works."

  Dom released her with a sigh. "I need to get down to the police station," he said, "see if I can do anything with this information. Keira, what do you want to do?"

  She knew what she should do – go home and try once again to put all this behind her. Remove herself from all this weirdness and potential danger. Mark her essays, plan her lessons, and get on with her life. She stared at Dom, already missing the warmth and comfort of his embrace, missing what might happen between them if she stayed.

  "I'll head back to my hotel," she said. "I could do with a nap after all that excitement." She managed a feeble smile.

  Dom shook his head. "You can stay at my place. I'll feel better knowing you're somewhere safe."

  She shivered, not from cold now. "The hotel's safe," she said in objection.

  "Humor me, Keira, okay?"

  She gave in without a fight.

  Chapter Five

  Dom's house was a proper bachelor pad – cupboard full of instant noodles and microwave meals, living room full of boys' toys – hi-tech entertainment system, lots of DVDs on sports, crime, and cars. Keira wandered around, feeling slightly guilty at her unabashed nosiness, but enjoying herself nonetheless. She should call Dylan, she knew. She should assure him she was okay and coming home soon. They'd spoken briefly last night, but it seemed like a long time ago now.

  On the other hand, he had her number. He could ring her if he wanted. In the meantime, she was happy to sit in Dom's house, drink his coffee, and wait for him to come home. She had no idea if he'd be able to use the information she'd given him. The police couldn't just go door-to-door looking for the man she'd seen – they needed probable cause, forensic evidence, something to tie him to the deaths. The likelihood was that she hadn't helped at all. The knowledge made her gloomy.

  She wondered if Dom had brought other women here since his divorce. It was an uncomfortable thought. She'd met his wife – ex-wife – just once, and instinctively disliked her. But that was surely because of her own barely-hidden attraction to Dom, rather than because Angie deserved to be disliked. Keira had known she was in danger of being that woman back then. But now there were no barriers. If they wanted to kiss – if they wanted to do more than kiss – there was nobody to answer to, nobody to hurt.

  She wanted very badly to kiss Dom. But she hadn't been intimate with anyone since her attack. She wasn't sure she knew how to initiate intimacy anymore. And Dom was too much of a gentleman t
o risk stepping where he wasn't wanted.

  The day dragged by. She had no idea when Dom would be back, and there wasn’t much to do to fill the time in until he did. She watched TV, flipping listlessly through the channels. She sent Dylan a text, but didn't get a reply. He'd be busy working on a website, lost in HTML and CSS, ignoring everything else. She smiled wistfully, curling up on Dom's battered old sofa. She loved the passion Dylan had for his job, loved and envied it. She'd never particularly wanted to be a teacher; it had just seemed a sensible option. Teachers were always in demand and the money was good, so why not?

  The front door banged open, shattering her reverie. Keira squeaked in surprise, hating herself for it. She leapt off the sofa, peering into the hall. Relief suffused her when Dom grinned at her, holding up a pizza box. "Knocked off early," he said. "You hungry?"

  "Starving." She took the box, relishing the smell of cheese and pepperoni. "Any luck today?"

  He shrugged. "I've been combing the files, looking at the evidence gathered from last night, trying to fit your guy into it. But there's not a whole lot I can do as it is."

  "I wish I'd found out more." She took up her place on the sofa again and opened the pizza box, snatching a slice. "A name, a house number... I could try again—

  Dom shook his head, slumping down beside her and setting the box between them. "I don't want to risk it, sweetheart. If this guy is the Slasher and he can see you during your OBEs, it's too dangerous."

  "If he kills again—"

  "Eat your pizza," he said firmly. "I'm sure your evidence will help somewhere down the line, Keira, and I'm bloody grateful you did what you did today, but I won't have you doing it again, alright? I didn't realize you'd be at risk."

  They ate in silence then, companionable, as if they'd been doing it for years. Keira dozed off on the sofa afterwards, until Dom shook her awake and told her to go sleep in his bed. "I'll take the sofa," he said. "Won't be the first time." He pulled her to her feet and hugged her goodnight. She let the embrace linger, relishing the feel of his arms around her. He smelt of old books and tobacco. She wanted to wrap the scent around herself, make it part of her.

  He nuzzled her hair and mumbled her name, fingers creeping under her shirt. His fingertips grazed her bare skin, sending sweet shivers through her. Maybe he wasn't as gentlemanly as she'd thought. She hoped not. Almost shyly, she lifted her head, hoping to meet his eyes and figure out what he was thinking.

  His intentions were fiercely clear when he kissed her.

  She gasped into his mouth, thrilled by the heat of his kiss. He knotted one hand in her hair, forcing her head back. At the same time, he backed her against the wall, pinning her in place while he devoured her mouth with his, forceful and almost painfully demanding. She moaned, a mixture of pleasure and pain. His touch, his kiss, his hands... It was all exquisite, but this position – forced against the wall, held firm by a powerful man... It stirred dark memories.

  Dom must have sensed her inner turmoil, because he broke the kiss, stepping back with a groan. "Dammit, Keira—"

  "I don't want you to stop," she said quickly, afraid he'd end things before they'd even begun.

  "I'm not bloody stopping." He gripped her shoulders, pulling her in close. "Believe me, I'm not. But all the times I imagined fucking you, Keira Swanson, I never once imagined doing it in my front room with a half-eaten pizza at our feet."

  She laughed, heart hammering and making her feel bold and reckless. "How did you imagine it?"

  "All kinds of ways." He traced her lips with his finger. "Rough, slow, in silk sheets, in the shower, with blindfolds, strawberries, ice cubes, handcuffs..." He ground against her and nipped her earlobe. Keira shivered in delight, pressing back against him. "Drove myself mad imagining all the things we could do. But pizza boxes were definitely never involved."

  She shivered pleasurably, electricity seeming to zip between her clit and her nipples at his words and his touch. She'd imagined it too – all those scenarios and countless more, and the thought of actually doing it was as surreal as any outer-body experience. It made her fears about initiating intimacy fall away. Dom wanted her. It was plain in every line of his body, in the way he pushed his hips against her, the way he stared at her so hungrily. She didn't need to wonder how to do this. It would be as natural as breathing.

  "So how shall we start?" she asked him, brushing her lips along his jaw.

  He swung her up in his arms effortlessly and carried her up to the bedroom. It was as Spartan and masculine as the rest of the house, but she liked that. She liked the idea of being the first woman here in a long time.

  He laid her down on the bed gently, settling down beside her and curling a lock of her hair round his fingers. She watched, heart fluttering. Part of her wanted to drag him on top of her, tell him to take her hard and fast. But another part wanted to stretch out this moment forever, memorize every second, every glance and caress. She slid her hand under his shirt, running her fingers up and down his chest, loving the feeling of the slight dusting of his chest hair. His breath hitched as if she'd touched him far more intimately.

  "Keira." He kissed her throat, fingers working on unbuttoning her blouse. When his fingertips skimmed her breasts, even through the simple cotton bra she wore, Keira felt a surge of need that made her forget slow and lingering.

  "I want you," she gasped, grabbing his shoulders and pushing him onto his back. "I want you, Dom. I want you inside me." She kissed him greedily and he met her with equal passion, rolling her so she was on top of him. He shoved her blouse off roughly, tossing it aside before capturing her breasts in his hands and kneading them. That electricity raced through her again, sparking a rush of liquid in her cunt. She wrestled with his jeans, relishing the sight of his cock springing free. She wrapped her hand around it, felt it twitch in response, and smiled down at Dom.

  He gazed up at her as if rapt, as if she was the only, the most beautiful, woman in the world. "What are you waiting for?" he asked, voice rough.

  She stripped off her own jeans and was about to take off her bra too, but he caught her hands. "Leave it on. Looks good." He wet his lips.

  She left it and straddled him again, pushing her hips down against his so his cock throbbed against her clit. He moaned and thrust up, seeking her entrance. Keira drew her finger along the tip of his cock and came away with a smear of pre-cum. He thrust against her again, an impatient growl in his throat.

  "You just going to look at it all day?" he asked.

  She smiled. She liked his impatience and she liked this position, her on top, in control. It banished that last trace of uncertainty that had gripped her when they first kissed. No, she definitely wasn't going to just look. She'd waited years for this. The lure of his ready body, close, hot, and ready for her, was far too much temptation. She guided him into her slick channel, sighing as he stretched her. The sensation of weight and fullness inside her was delicious, and for a second she held still, memorizing exactly how this felt. Dom inside her, poised to please her.

  She rested her hands on his chest at the same moment he gripped her thighs. He circled her hips at the same time he thrust his up, creating a deep, aching bliss inside Keira. She flexed her fingernails against his chest, scratching up and down. Dom thrust harder as she did, encouraging her. She leaned down to kiss him again, and he speared his hands in her hair, holding her in place while he moved faster and harder, so she wildly slid up and down his cock. The pressure and friction had her head spinning, had her moaning and whimpering her excitement into his mouth as they kissed.

  He swept his hands through her hair and down to her hips again. He held her firm, suddenly stopping her increasingly frantic movements. She gasped in protest.

  "You keep this up, I'm going to come," he said.

  "Isn't that the point?"

  "Yeah, but I'm not done with you yet." He lifted her up and rolled them over so he was on top of her. He kissed her but didn't linger on her lips, instead swiftly moving down to run his tong
ue over the tops of her breasts while he brushed her nipples with his fingers. She writhed against his hands, wanting the bra gone. She wanted skin on skin.

  As if sensing her needs, he pulled down the cups of her bra and traced circles around her nipples, teasing them until they were so hard it was almost painful. Then he took his mouth to them, laving each in turn with rough, firm strokes of his tongue. Keira closed her eyes, lost in pleasure. When he bit down on one nipple, the gesture sent jolts of shivery heat straight down to her clit, as if he tugged on some invisible wire.

  "Please," she whispered, not sure what she was asking for. "Please, please..."

  "Please what?" He kissed his way down her stomach, quick, light kisses that were almost frustrating. He even kissed her scars, something she'd never imagined letting anyone do. But Dom made her feel beautiful, not damaged.

  "Fuck me." She felt daring. Dirty talk had never been her style. But it was what she wanted, for Dom to fuck her, claim her. They could do slow and tender later. Right now, she needed his cock back in her cunt with a desperation that shocked her. "Fuck me, Dom – Oh!" She twisted in surprise when he swept his tongue over her clit. She propped herself up on her elbows to watch him go down on her.

  He looked primal. All that roughness she loved about him, all that strength and masculine warmth, unleashed for her. On her. It was as intoxicating as the heat of his mouth on her clit, and she felt her climax building rapidly. As his tongue worked, he slipped his fingers inside her. She bucked her hips, words falling from her mouth. Begging, demanding, entreating... She didn't know what she said, but she couldn't stop. His tongue and fingers were clever, but she needed more.

  And just when she thought she'd come, he stopped again. He knelt on the bed, grabbing her ankles and tugging her down until her legs were flush against his chest. He leaned down so she could wrap her legs round his shoulders and then he guided himself back inside her.