Extrasensual Perception

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Extrasensual Perception Page 8

by Rayna Vause


  “Ready to go?” Jack held out his hand.

  Chris looked at the long, slim fingers and smooth palm for a long moment. Then he slid his hand into Jack’s, letting Jack help him from his chair. Jack continued to hold his hand as he led them through the club, weaving through the tables and patrons, and exited through the walkway to the hotel lobby. He caught sight of Angelica out of the corner of his eye. She smiled and waved as Jack tugged him along.

  “Jack, are you sure this is a good idea?” Chris dragged his feet.

  “Do you generally have concerns about the concept of an evening meal?” He led Chris through the lobby to the private elevator bank that serviced the family suites.

  “That’s not what I mean, and you know it.” He pulled his arm away. “I meant this, us, together. This is feeling like more than a conversation. I’m sort of getting date vibes here.”

  Jack stopped and blew out a hard breath. “Just come with me. I promise it will be fine.”

  He hit the call button, his unwavering silver gaze holding Chris’s as they waited. Chris couldn’t resist Jack’s magnetic lure. He told himself that he couldn’t let this man be more than his boss or maybe a friendly acquaintance. Yet at every turn, he found himself yearning for more. That’s why, when the elevator doors opened, he stepped in and allowed himself to be whisked to Jack’s suite.

  He followed Jack down the short hall and into his lavish suite, but this time the coffee table in the living room had been draped with cream-colored linens and set with gleaming flatware and crystal wine glasses. He studied the casual romance of the scene and looked at Jack.

  “What is this?”

  “It’s a chance to talk and get to know each other in a relaxed environment. Have a seat.” He gestured at the couch.

  Chris hesitated, then lowered himself into the offered seat. Relaxed? Yeah right. Butterflies were performing precision stunts in his stomach at the moment.

  “What exactly did you want to talk about?”

  “Not much for small talk, are you?”

  “Jack.”

  “To start, the shooter from last night sent Angelica flowers and a taunting note today.”

  “What! Are you kidding me? How do you know it was him?”

  “He told her he wouldn’t miss next time.”

  “Well, shit.”

  “That’s putting it mildly. It also tells me you were right. There is danger coming. It’s been coming since you came to warn Angelica.”

  “Does this mean you believe that I’ve had precognitive dreams?”

  Jack laid a hand on Chris’s thigh, which set Chris’s heart pounding. “It means I don’t know how you figured out that someone is after my sister and me, but I want—no, I need—to learn more.”

  “Okay.” Chris all but stuttered out the word.

  Jack pushed to his feet and rounded the couch. “Before we dig too deep into serious topics….” He wheeled in a service cart. It held bottles of root beer, mugs, and a collection of domed dishes.

  “I thought that after your shift you might be hungry.” He opened the bottles of soda, poured it into frosted mugs, and then handed one to Chris. Next he revealed what the domes covered. White paper Chinese food cartons.

  Chris laughed. “You’ve got fine china, expensive linens, and sterling silver flatware laid out and we’re having take-out Chinese?”

  “Where it is written that you can’t serve Mr. Wong’s pepper steak on bone china?”

  Chris laughed again and Jack started serving. “Why don’t you tell me more about Christopher Vincent?”

  Chris hummed in delight as he ate. Take-out Chinese really did taste better on fancy dishes. He swallowed and shook his head. “Why don’t you tell me about Jack Whitman for a change? You’re a master at avoiding talking about yourself.”

  Jack set down his plate, sat back, and stretched an arm along the back of the couch. “My story has been in the media enough, I figure everyone has heard it by now.”

  “I have a sneaking suspicion the media has only reported what you’ve allowed them to know.”

  “Then you credit me with more power than I actually possess. Story is simple. One sister, Angelica. My mother is deceased. She passed on when I was young. Dad couldn’t deal with her loss or the two children that reminded him so much of her. So he put us out of sight and mind. Promptly found a trophy wife and started over with her. Sadly for him, his new family didn’t go as planned either.” Jack fell silent, staring at the silverware that gleamed in the light spilled out by the mini chandelier in the living room.

  Chris ground his teeth as he listened. What kind of person does that to two innocent, grieving children?

  Over the years, Angie had told him bits and pieces of her past, but he’d never pushed her for more than she’d been willing to share. Now, he understood why she struggled when speaking of her parents. He reached out and laid a hand over Jack’s. Offering comfort, taking some for himself. He let the simple touch wick away the anger churning through him. Jack flipped his hand and linked their finger together. They sat there palm to palm, Jack’s soft smooth skin warm against his.

  “I’m sorry that happened to you. I can’t imagine essentially losing both parents in the blink of an eye.”

  Jack rolled his shoulders and forced a smile. “Thanks, but that’s ancient history at this point.”

  “Where’s your father and his family now?”

  “Last I heard, Father and the trophy were happily holed up in a villa in the south of France. As for my half brother, he’s in jail, as I’m sure you remember.”

  How could Chris forget? It remained one of the most memorable days of his life, and probably the one Jack wished he could forget—the day Jack’s half brother, Kyle, had been sentenced to prison for embezzling from the company.

  Chris had come by the hotel to check on Angelica. He couldn’t imagine how much it hurt to have her family torn apart once again. Instead he wound up in Angie’s private suite with Jack. If Angie hadn’t come back when she did, he’d have had more than just an amazing make-out session to relive in his fantasies.

  The temperature in the room seemed to increase as he recalled that day. Chris reached for his soda, needing to wet his dry throat and overheated body.

  “Did, uh, did you always want to run a major hotel chain?” Chris rasped out the words.

  “Yes, I liked the idea of being the boss.”

  “Knowing you, you wouldn’t be suited for any other position.”

  “I paid my dues before I got handed the reins of the company, though. When I was in school, I worked in the hotel every summer. I was a bellhop, worked the front desk, and I even helped out housekeeping. Some of it I enjoyed, some I didn’t, but it made me realize how much I love the hotel.”

  “I find that hard to believe. I can’t picture Jackson Whitman working as a housekeeper.”

  “It’s true. My grandfather believed that a president had to have experience in all aspects of running a hotel. He set me on the path and made damn sure I knew this hotel inside and out before he turned the reins over to me when I graduated business school. God, I miss him.” Jack’s voice went wistful. His gaze turned a little sad, a little distant.

  Jack scooted closer. Their legs brushed against each other, and Jack’s hand settled on the back of the couch right behind him. Jack’s thumb stroked his neck. Something hot and dangerous began to bubble up inside of Chris. Damn, it had been a long time since someone had put him so off balance. Still, he couldn’t resist tilting his head to give Jack better access.

  “Your turn. How does it work exactly, your abilities?”

  “That’s not an easy question to answer. I touch someone, or they touch me, and I can see into their past or future. It’s like flipping through a photo album that can go either forward or backward in time. I’m not really sure how I know when I’ve gotten to the right life event based on the person’s question. I just do.”

  “So our futures are predetermined?”

  “I
didn’t say that. Life events and circumstances can change things. No one’s future is set in stone. My visions aren’t always perfectly clear, and depending on the decisions you make in life, they’re subject to change.”

  “How much do your visions show you?” Jack shifted close enough for Chris to feel the heat of Jack’s body radiating from him, warming Chris’s skin and starting a slow burn deep inside.

  “S-Sometimes I get them in bits and pieces. There’s no real rhyme or reason to what I see. My ma, she probably has better control of her visions, but then she’s actively used her abilities for years.”

  “You haven’t?”

  “When you’re freaking out the kids on the playground and getting their parents all up in arms, you learn to shield your mind fairly quickly. I wanted to be just like everyone else. Kind of hard to do when your mother is Madam Melina, legendary mystic. At least on a local level. I did my best to turn off my abilities and fit in with the crowd.”

  “Now here you are standing out from the crowd.” Jack worried the end of Chris’s hair between his fingers.

  Chris’s scalp tingled from that simple touch.

  “Bills need to be paid. You do what you have to to take care of your family. I was less than thrilled by the idea of using my gifts in any capacity, especially one so public, but I can’t say that I regret it.”

  “Chris, you are definitely something very special.” Jack turned on the couch so he could hold out both hands. “Would you be willing to read me again?”

  “Okay, but why?”

  “Please?”

  Chris searched Jack’s eyes. He saw curiosity and a touch of trepidation. Taking both of his hands, he opened his mind to Jack.

  He found himself back five years, sitting with a pensive and vulnerable Jack. He offered silent comfort, his hand on Jack’s arm. Then his thigh. His eyes met Jack’s mercury eyes and he couldn’t breathe under the weight of the emotions shining back at him. Pain, attraction, vulnerability. The air around them practically crackled.

  Then Jack’s mouth pressed to his, and Chris lost all ability to think. His world became all about sensation. Jack’s firm lips sliding over his. His hands caressing him, sliding under his shirt and over the muscles of his stomach, leaving sparks of sensation in their wake.

  Chris snapped back to the present, his heart racing, his breath panting.

  “I hope you didn’t intentionally take me there. You wouldn’t be that cruel, would you?” He couldn’t meet Jack’s gaze.

  “Cruel?”

  “Why would you force me to go back to that night, Jack? A night that meant so much to me, but was just another night to you.”

  “Chris, that’s not true. That kiss. It was the one bright spot in an otherwise terrible day.”

  “How am I supposed to believe that when you’ve gone out of your way to avoid talking about it? You acted as though it didn’t matter. That I didn’t matter.”

  Jack took Chris’s hand. “I don’t talk about that day at all. That’s the day Kyle got sentenced. It’s the day that I finally accepted I’d never have a relationship with my father. That Angelica and I were on our own.”

  “Then why would you have me see it?”

  “I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately, and I wanted you to know that. I’ve been thinking about what it meant to me.”

  “And?”

  Jack slid closer, threading his fingers into Chris’s hair.

  Chris shivered, his body swaying forward as sparks of electricity danced along his scalp and down his body.

  “And I’m starting to think that I made a mistake walking away from you that day.” Jack pulled him in flush against his firm body. They fit together like two halves of a whole coming back together at last. “I’d like to try and correct my mistake.”

  Chris leaned his forehead on Jack’s shoulder, breathed him in. Jack wasn’t wearing cologne, he didn’t need to. He smelled of soap and a spicy scent all his own, and it intoxicated Chris, made the room spin. Chris held on, clutching him close.

  Jack leaned away, tilted Chris’s chin up. He stared into Jack’s eyes. Heat simmered in their depths, transforming the color from gray to molten steel. Chris forgot how to breathe as Jack lowered his mouth to his. The kiss wasn’t tentative and it wasn’t sweet. He claimed Chris’s mouth, demanding a response. Chris’s head spun. Heat exploded through him. His heart raced as he pressed even closer, wanting more. Before the kiss could go any further, Jack drew back, pressing one last kiss to Chris’s lips. Chris licked his lips wanting one last taste, then opened his eyes and met Jack’s gaze.

  “You really are very, very special.”

  Chris held on and tried to suck in enough oxygen to help his brain function return to normal.

  “Can I talk you into staying the night again?”

  He cupped Jack’s face and caressed his lips with his thumb.

  “I can’t. Mom.”

  “Right.”

  “But I wouldn’t be against an escort to my car.” He offered Jack a tentative smile.

  Jack linked their fingers as, together, they headed for the door. They rode the elevator to the lobby and crossed the walkway between the hotel and club, then into the garage. As they approached Chris’s car, he noticed Jack scowling.

  “What?”

  “You need to have a car at your disposal.”

  “Why? My car is just fine.”

  “With everything going on, using one of my sedans would be much safer, plus it would keep you out of the garage. After what happened, I just don’t want you and Angelica getting stuck in here again.”

  “No. Really Jack, that’s not necessary. I need to be able to come and go in case something happens with my mother. Besides, how would it look to the other employees?”

  “Quite frankly, I don’t care how it looks. My concern is getting you wherever you need to go safely.”

  Chris turned to Jack and laid his hands on his chest. “Jack, I appreciate it, but I’ll be fine with my own car.” He leaned in and kissed him. “I have to go. Thank you for tonight.” He slid into his car and Jack closed the door behind him. Chris rolled down the window. “Get back inside. You shouldn’t be alone out there either.”

  Jack nodded.

  As Chris eased out of his space, he kept an eye on Jack in his rearview mirror. Damn, the man looked sexy in his dress pants and shirt.

  Chris blew out a slow breath. He hadn’t planned on Jack coming into his life. The timing couldn’t be worse, and it messed with his head. He needed to think. Needed to figure out what exactly he wanted from this burgeoning relationship with Jack and if it even made sense to pursue it, considering everything that had happened.

  Chris stopped at a red light and leaned his head back against the headrest. God, this is going to get complicated.

  CHRIS frowned at the knock on the door at eleven in the morning. He didn’t expect his mother and her aide back from therapy for another hour, and they never had visitors. He pushed up from the living room floor where he sat sorting through some of the boxes of stuff he’d brought back from his mother’s shop. Some of the items he thought Ma would like to have on hand. The rest he’d planned to discard or store somewhere. Making his way to the front door, his eyes went wide when he saw Angelica through his peephole.

  He unbolted the door and slid back the security chain. “Ang, what are you doing here? Is everything all right?”

  “Everything is fine, Chris. You and I are going to have a chat.” She stood in the doorway a moment longer. “Are you going to let me in?”

  “Sorry.” Chris stepped back, letting Angelica enter his apartment. Once he lost his job and his mother fell ill they’d been forced to move, and Angelica hadn’t seen his new place yet. Seeing his high-fashion friend in his modest, simply furnished living room made him self-conscious. He didn’t possess a single designer label. His furniture and decorations were decent, but nothing like what he’d seen at Angie’s place or in Jack’s suite. Then again, his current circumstances
didn’t exactly lend themselves to making expensive purchases.

  A plain beige couch sat along one wall with a matching chair and ottoman angled next to it. All faced a flat-screen television, Chris’s one splurge, atop a small entertainment unit. A bookshelf held speakers with an iPod connector, an assortment of books, and some DVDs. Small clay pots lined the windows, housing a variety of thriving plants.

  “Your home is really lovely, Chris.” She crossed to sit on the couch.

  “It’s not much, but it gets the job done.” Chris claimed a seat on the ottoman and faced Angelica.

  “I think it’s homey and very comfortable. So different from my family home. I grew up in a museum. Surrounded by priceless, breakable items. It didn’t help that I was a bit of a clumsy girl.” She rolled her eyes.

  Chris smiled. “I bet, since you’re still a bit of a klutz. I remember the first time you came to see Ma for a reading. You tripped over the welcome mat on your way out of the shop and almost took a header.” Chris chuckled.

  Angelica glared, but a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.

  “Can I get you anything? I just put on a fresh pot of coffee.”

  “No, thanks. I’m good. Is your mom here? I’d love to say hello.”

  “Sorry. She’s got therapy every day at this time.”

  “Well, tell her I’m thinking about her.”

  Chris nodded.

  Angelica paused for a moment, staring at her lap, and then she lifted her amethyst gaze to meet his. “I’m sure you’re wondering why I dropped by.”

  Chris nodded.

  “I wanted to talk to you and didn’t want to risk anyone overhearing. Plus, I just wasn’t ready to go to the hotel and face all the chaos and crazy at the hotel, and it’s going to be nuts. We’ve increased security all over the property. Jack wants me to go into full lockdown. Not happening.” She shot him a wry look. “But, since you’ve already gotten caught in the middle of some psycho trying to hurt me, we are also concerned for your safety.”

  “I’m just glad I was there to help you, Ang.”

  “Me too. But I’m concerned your association with me, or simply the fact that you’ve been there to help when attacks have happened, can make you a target. So I’m going to have some increased security around you too.”

 

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