Separation Zone

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Separation Zone Page 8

by Mandy M. Roth


  He wasn’t there.

  He’d left?

  When?

  Grandma had told her he was upstairs asleep. How could the woman have missed Jon leaving? She’d said wild horses couldn’t take him from her.

  Guess she’d been wrong.

  Deflated, Tori headed to the bathroom and showered, her thoughts remaining on Jon and his brief visit. How he’d captured her attention so completely and how much it hurt knowing he was gone. Once finished showering, she wrapped a towel around her, collected her art supplies and headed to her room.

  She opened the door to her room and tried to turn on the light with no luck. The darn bulb was out—again. Seemed to happen a lot. No surprise. Her light bulbs rarely lasted more than a month. She suspected it had something to do with how frequently her grandmother visited. Spirits tended to draw on energy and power, causing problems with lighting and electronics.

  Tori stepped forward, never once expecting to find anything in her path since she knew her room well, to the point that walking in the dark wasn’t an issue. When she not only encountered something, but tripped, she let out a yelp, her charcoal pencils flying in one direction and the paper scattering in another. She had a half a second to realize she’d tripped over something that felt a lot like a duffle bag lying on the floor. The bed partially cushioned her fall, but it had something hot and hard on it.

  Not something.

  Someone.

  Her towel came loose, still around her, but no longer tied securely.

  “What the—?”

  She skated her hand over something warm and hard. Her breath caught as she felt the telltale signs of a man.

  A very muscular man.

  Tori gulped.

  A very erect, very muscular man.

  Jon.

  Her eyes widened. He hadn’t left?

  What the hell was he doing in her room?

  She couldn’t think too hard on it now, not with what she felt pressed under her body. All man. All muscle. All mouth-watering.

  The man’s equipment was the stuff dirty movies makers would wet themselves over. Sure, she’d seen a few, wanting to sate her curiosity about sex, but she hadn’t really believed normal guys came built that way. Then again, Jon was hardly normal.

  Her body was still on fire from the shower and her pussy dampened with anticipation and curiosity. It wasn’t as if she’d set out to stay a virgin at her age. It had just sort of happened. She and Oran had come close to doing the deed, but she’d been unable to keep from getting impressions from him when he was in such close proximity, which made for a quick mood killer.

  But Jon was different. The impressions she got when touching him weren’t of passed-on loved ones, but of running free, of the wild, of desire, of raw need. His desires seemed to mirror hers, but were so much more intense.

  Unable to help herself, she stroked the clothed bulge. It wasn’t bad enough the guy had to be drop-dead sexy, he also had to come super equipped as well?

  Of course.

  Why not?

  Gathering control of her hormones, she went to pull her hand away. He caught hold of her wrist, keeping her hand firmly pressed to his groin. With a gasp, she froze.

  He didn’t.

  He grabbed her and flipped her, his body riding over hers, and before she knew it, she was pinned beneath a wall of steely muscle. She nearly screamed yes, but managed to hold her tongue while her body thrummed with need.

  A low growl emanated from the man above her and it turned her on more. “It wasn’t enough to do what you did in the shower only feet from me, making me listen, making me smell you coming? Now you come in here like this?”

  He’d smelled her and heard her? She’d been so quiet.

  He’s not human, she reminded herself, her face heating instantly with embarrassment. She was thankful he couldn’t see her mortification. Heck, he could probably smell it.

  “J-Jon?” she asked, her voice low, excitement coursing through her veins. Her traitorous nipples hardened as they scraped against his bare chest. The second the ridge of his cock pressed against her mound, she hissed and arched her back. She wanted him. Wanted him to ram himself into her and give her what she’d been waiting for from a man.

  Jon applied more pressure to her wrists, holding them high above her head as he ground his hips against her. Tori swallowed hard, doing her best to ignore the liquid pooling between her thighs.

  For a split second, it looked as if Jon’s amber eyes were swirling, seeming to give off a light of their own. That wasn’t possible. Was it?

  She squirmed to break his hold. “Let go of me,” she whispered, but not really wanting him to. Seemed better than to beg him to do it, to thrust into her. She was next-to-naked and trapped under him. Yelling should have been the first thing on her mind, not opening her legs for him and begging him to fuck her.

  He brought his lips close to hers, tempting her more, still grinding his hips. Tori countered his thrusts. The need to give in and accept him was great. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she bit her lower lip in an attempt to keep from moaning. It didn’t work. Pressure built deep within her. Each time his cock connected with her clit, he drove her closer to the edge of culmination.

  What the hell are you doing? Get off her. It’s Vinnie’s daughter.

  The sound of Jon’s voice in her head caused Tori to still. Her breath came in short bursts. He squeezed harder, crushing her wrists to the point it hurt. She flinched and tried to wiggle free of his grasp. “Ouch.”

  Jon let go of her and put his hands on each side of her on the bed, doing a semi-push up. “Tori? I didn’t—”

  Oh God, I hurt her.

  His guilt washed over her, assaulting her senses. Unable to stand it, Tori cupped his face and did the unthinkable. She pressed her lips to his. He moaned, and she couldn’t help but run her tongue along his bottom lip, savoring his minty taste. He countered, stroking her lip with his tongue. She ran her hands into his hair and held his head to her, afraid he’d try to take the pleasure away.

  He rubbed his lower body against her, causing a spasm of pleasure to shoot throughout her lower half. Tori arched her back, moaning softly, unable to remember a time in her life when a man had her worked up by simply kissing her.

  He broke the kiss, his forehead going to hers. “Tori?”

  “Yes,” she said softly, kissing him again. “Yes. Yes. And yes.”

  He growled again, sounding frustrated. “I can’t. You’re the daughter of—”

  She thrust her tongue into his mouth and rotated her hips beneath him, wanting him to give her everything his body seemed to be offering. Her hands roamed with a mind of their own, seeking out his muscular upper arms and then trailing lower, down his back, to the tops of his boxers.

  Boldly, she slipped her fingers under the elastic and she touched his rock-hard ass. Need slammed through her and she whimpered into his mouth. He caught her wrist as she tried to skate her hand around to the front and touch his dick.

  “I’m hanging on by a thread,” he said, his voice gruff and raw. “You’re naked, wet, and under me.”

  “I know,” she returned. “Please, Jon.”

  She’d finally resorted to begging, but she took comfort in the knowledge that there weren’t too many women out there who wouldn’t do the same in her position.

  A soft ringing pierced the darkness and she wished desperately for it to go away. It didn’t. Jon drew back and rolled off her quickly. Grunting, she glared in the direction of her ringing cell. When she realized it was still in the bathroom, she cursed lightly. She wrapped the towel around her tight, securing it.

  A cocky laugh escaped Jon. “I can get that for you if you’re having trouble seeing in the dark.”

  “Oh, you have the ability to see in nearly pitch blackness?” Tori grinned, knowing her cheeks were flushed as nerves got the best of her. She touched her lower lip. It was swollen from their kiss, making her want more.

  “If you keep tugging on that l
ip, I’m going to lose control again, sugar.”

  Okay, maybe he really could see in the dark.

  The next thing she knew, Jon was in front of her, pressing her ringing phone into her hand. His fingers lingered over hers and she could have sworn she heard the beating of his heart, even over the ringing.

  Sighing, she opened her phone. “This had better be good.”

  “Hello to you too, sweetie,” a very male and very amused voice said.

  “You would call the second I…umm…never mind.” She held back from confessing she was with another man. Oran, her on-again, off-again boyfriend wouldn’t take kindly to it. Since he was currently in the ‘not a boyfriend’ category, she shouldn’t worry about it, but she did. “It’s late.”

  “I know. I miss you.”

  A threatening sounding noise came from Jon, and Tori had half a mind to ask if he could hear Oran. She held back, focusing instead on Oran. “You called me at midnight to tell me you miss me?”

  “No, I called because I need your help on a case, Tori. It’s a missing-girl one. It would be a favor for Parnoke’s sheriff. He’s run out of leads and doesn’t know what else to do. He’s heard me talking about how you help every now and then, and called to see if you could help him.”

  Tori stilled. “Oran, you promised not to mention me helping out. You said you’d—”

  “No one here thinks you’re a quack, Tori. Hell, I’ve seen the miracles you can work. Please help her. Her family needs to find her, one way or another. They need closure.” Oran sighed. “The sheriff has to release some vital evidence first thing in the morning. We think it will help you sense her. I could come pick you up.”

  Jon growled. “Tell him you have a ride. I’ll take you.”

  “Is that a man’s voice I hear there with you?” Oran asked, jealousy evident in his voice. “Tori, you don’t let anyone over at your place, let alone a man. Who is he? Why is he there?”

  “We’re not dating anymore,” she reminded him. “And Jon is, well, he’s an old family friend.”

  “Who happens to be next to you at midnight?” Oran didn’t give an inch. Always the detective.

  “No,” Jon said. “Who happened to be sharing her bed, asshole. Something you will not be doing again.”

  Shocked, Tori covered the phone with her hand and stared in Jon’s direction, unable to make out more than his torso with the lights off. “Jon.”

  He plucked the phone from her hand. “Hi, Oran. Why don’t you go ahead and give me directions to where she needs to be. I’ll handle gettin’ her there and gettin’ her home.”

  Tori simply stood, rooted in place as Jon acted as if they had some sort of real relationship and he had a claim on her.

  He let out a sick-sounding laugh. “I’m more than qualified to be involved in this, detective. If you’re looking for credentials, I can supply them to you. Let’s just say, mine are bigger than yours.”

  It was a loaded statement if Tori had ever heard one. She gasped.

  He closed the phone and was on her in an instant, lifting her off her feet and pressing his mouth to hers. The towel that she barely had in front of her was ripped away, leaving her completely naked. Tori gasped and Jon thrust his tongue into her mouth.

  She wanted him to keep going, to keep kissing her and to see where their obvious attraction led, but it was too much, too fast.

  “Jon,” she said between kisses. “Please.”

  He growled, running his hands down her back and cupping her ass cheeks. “You want me to stop?”

  Tori’s breathing was uneven, as were her thoughts. Did she want him to stop? The cream between her legs seemed to think encouraging him to do more was called for. Her mind knew better. It was the portal to her heart.

  You just met him. Don’t hand him your heart too.

  Jon pressed his forehead to hers and exhaled slowly. “We should get you out to help that little girl.”

  Tori should have been shocked she was standing in her bedroom, in the pitch black, naked, with a man she barely knew. But that wasn’t her main concern. “How did you hear what Oran said on the phone?”

  Jon touched her cheek, running his fingers over her skin lightly. “Good ears.”

  “And good night vision?” she asked, arching a brow.

  He touched her lifted brow and let out a soft laugh. “Yep.”

  “Man of many talents and words.”

  “Mmmhmm.”

  “We should get dressed.”

  He chuckled. “If you insist, but I’m not opposed to staying this way.”

  Already knowing his mind was in the gutter, Tori reached out to give him a playful swat and gasped as her fingers scraped over his chiseled chest. “We need to get dressed fast or Grandma will be a very happy woman come morning.”

  “Why is that?”

  Tori rubbed her temple. “Because I’m positive she had you sleep in this room in hopes something would happen between us.”

  Jon advanced on her. “Well, wouldn’t want to disappoint.”

  “Jon. Back. Now.” She laughed as she took a step away from him.

  He snaked an arm around her waist and purred, the sound making her inner thighs tighten. “Damn, woman, you need to stop looking so good.”

  She gasped. “Wait, you can see me? I’m naked!”

  “I know.” Jon pressed his lips to her ear and planted a chaste kiss on her before backing away. He swatted her backside lightly and growled. “Clothes. Now. Or I can’t be held responsible if I pin you down on that bed and have my way with you.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Tori sat before the objects recovered from what the authorities assumed was the scene of the crime. The room was dimly lit, thanks to Oran’s request. The fluorescent lighting had been harsh upon her arrival and left the already sterile room feeling cold and desolate.

  She couldn’t do whatever it was she did under those conditions. Tori actually had very little in the way of control of the gifts she’d been given. Sometimes, no matter how hard she wanted them to work, they didn’t. Other times, it happened without her desire and without warning.

  Like at the memorial when she’d touched Jon’s name. Her gaze flickered to him. He seemed so much like a caged beast that she couldn’t help but reach out to him, hoping to calm whatever had him so riled.

  He paused in his pacing, his hand coming to rest in hers. The warmth she felt whenever they made contact returned, and the tension from being on display in the small town sheriff’s office eased somewhat, freeing her mind to concentrate on the items laid out before her on the Formica table.

  Jon squeezed her hand gently and eased up behind her, drawing a grunt from Oran, who had been giving Jon the stink eye since their arrival. She’d always thought of Oran as handsome—sexy, even—and he was by any woman’s standards, but with Jon in the room that all changed. Oran paled in comparison.

  Her body heated with thoughts of Jon’s kisses and she squirmed slightly in her seat. Jon sniffed the air rather blatantly and then bent behind her, his lips coming to rest against her ear. “Soon, sugar. Soon. But for now let’s help the child and then get to gettin’.”

  Soon?

  What did he mean by soon?

  As her traitorous nipples picked then to harden at his closeness, she got a fairly good idea of what Jon had been alluding to. She gasped and released his hand, sitting up straight, making him laugh under his breath.

  He kissed her ear and stood, staying close to her as Oran stared daggers at him from across the room. Tori did her best to ignore the obvious level of testosterone between the men that seemed to be increasing tenfold with each second that ticked by. She half-expected them to whip out their manhoods and measure.

  She wasn’t sure she could handle it if they did.

  In fact, she was fairly certain she’d pass out from too much manly overload. She wasn’t built for all this alpha maleness and hoped neither of them decided to measure their manhoods or pee on her to mark what they thought was their terr
itory.

  Oran pushed off the wall he leaned against and covered the distance of the room in two long strides. As he neared her, Jon pressed his frame to her from behind. She knew what it felt like to have him hard and against her, and knew she couldn’t handle much more.

  “Jon, please. I need space,” she said.

  Oran’s lips quirked. “Give her space.”

  “Make me,” snapped Jon, sounding much like a child.

  She sighed and looked up at the men from her seated position. “Please. I need to concentrate to help find the little girl.”

  That seemed to do it.

  Jon stepped back, giving her space, and Oran kept his distance.

  Tori glanced up at Jon before moving to touch any of the articles before her. He hadn’t said much on the way to the station, and what he did say revolved around who Oran was and how long she and Oran had been an item.

  Jon’s amber gaze slid over her. He lifted a brow. “So, you see things when you touch stuff?”

  He was surprisingly calm about it all. Tori shrugged. “Not always. I can’t control that particular gift.”

  “Does it hurt you at all?” he asked, stepping closer to her, seeming to second guess giving her space. “If it hurts you, you’re done and not doing it. Period.”

  “It doesn’t.” Lying to him wasn’t something she relished, but telling him the whole truth wasn’t an option. Sometimes she experienced the same feelings and emotions of the person she was reading. And sometimes, that included their pain.

  Tori reached for a small white shoe with pink ribbons on it. She hesitated, locking gazes with Jon. He gave her an encouraging nod and she took hold of the shoe. The instant she touched it, Tori was hit with the feeling of being somewhere dark, cold, dank. She closed her eyes tight, willing herself to see more. The minute she found herself in the role of the little girl, looking out and around, scared and wanting her mommy, Tori opened her eyes and stood quickly.

  “She’s not dead, Jon.”

  Jon was on her in a heartbeat, cupping her cheeks. “Can you see where she is?”

  “It’s dark. Cold.” She tipped her head, her eyes rolling. “Want my mommy. Want….” Her teeth chattered. “C-cold. Mommy? Is that you?”

 

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