Through His Eyes (Mind's Eye Book 1)

by Deborah Camp

  “Good night to you both,” Quintara said, wiggling the fingers of one hand as she sashayed out of the room and across the hall to her own.

  “I’ll book you on an afternoon flight, Quintara,” Levi called after her.

  “Yes, darling, not too early. You know how I hate mornings.”

  Trudy heard the door across the hall close before Levi shut the one to his room and turned around to face her. His eyes were hooded. He looked coolly dangerous in that dark suit, she thought. Like an ad in GQ or Vanity Fair. She glanced around and was acutely aware that the bed they’d had sex in earlier took up a good portion of the room.

  “You have a cell phone, don’t you?”

  She stared at him. She hadn’t expected that! God, she’d never be able to know where he was going next or what was going to come out of his mouth. “Yes.”

  He held out his hand. “Let me have it, please.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I want to program my cell phone number into it. We need to be able to communicate better.”

  “Oh. Right.” Yes, communicating better would be good, she thought, collecting her purse and pulling her cell phone from it. “Here you go.”

  He took it, flipped it open, then turned it over and over. “Wait a minute . . . this doesn’t have a camera . . . or a keyboard.” He looked at her, incredulously.

  She nodded. “That’s right. It’s just a phone. It’s all I need. I hardly ever use it.”

  “No, no, no.” He flipped the phone closed and gave it back to her, a disgusted look on his face as if he was handling road kill instead of her trusty, little phone. “We’re going into Key West tomorrow to confer with Detective Sinclair. While we’re there, we’ll get you a proper cell phone. You need a netbook, too.”

  “I don’t need any of those things.” She shoved the phone back into her purse. “What do I need a camera for? You have one.”

  “Because I won’t always be with you. You need the ability to snap photos of important things that trigger something – places, people, and objects. Then, you can file those photos on your netbook.”

  “That’s how you work. That’s not how I work.”

  He shook his head in denial, refusal. “Although you believe I can read your mind, I can’t. Therefore, you need a system for storing and filing things that I can share. You’re purchasing a new phone and a netbook.” He held up a hand to block her protest. “What is it with you and modern electronics? You worked in a pawn shop, so I know you were around the latest gizmos all the time.”

  She shrugged. “I’ve never been interested in those things. I . . . like antiques.”

  He chuckled. “Well, I’m here to drag you into this century.”

  “My expense account is obviously a lot smaller than yours for this little adventure.” She folded her arms, mirroring his posture, and tapped one sandal for good measure. Then she wished she hadn’t when the action drew his lambent gaze from her face, down, down, down her. She moved, trying to escape his sight, but there was really nowhere to hide, so she sat at the table again and drummed her fingers on the top of it. She sensed him moving, coming closer, standing behind her.

  “You know, I can buy those things for you.”

  “You can go to hell, too.”

  He chuckled. “Do you have a credit card?”

  She puffed out a breath. “Of course, I do! Several, in fact.” She turned in the chair to glare at him. “Will you sit down and quit lurking behind me?”

  He complied and lowered himself into the chair next to her. The room grew quiet as the air-conditioner cycled off.

  “I’m going to check out a few museums while we’re in Key West tomorrow.”

  “Oh?”

  “I made a list this afternoon. There are three I want to go to and see if I can locate the exact one the killer was in yesterday.”

  “I’ll go with you.”

  She glanced at him through her lashes as questions crowded her mind. There was so much she wanted to know . . . to learn . . . and he had the answers.

  “What?” He regarded her, intently as usual. “What’s wrong?”

  “I want to ask you something.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “I don’t want you to take it the wrong way and get all pissy with me.”

  The corners of his wide mouth twitched with amusement. “I’ll withhold my pissyness. Ask me.”

  “How does it work between you and Gregory?” She saw suspicion tighten his features and she reached out and grasped his sleeve. “No, really. I want to know what he does for you. Does he give you clues or does he speak to other spirits and tell you things? How long has he been with you? You said he was real old, right?”

  He settled back in the chair and his gaze dropped to her hand on his sleeve. Trudy let her fingers slip away to rest on the table top. She thought she saw him hitch in a quick breath.

  “It’s a strange relationship,” he said, his words emerging hesitatingly, as if he wasn’t sure how much he wanted to reveal to her. “I don’t actually get clues from him, although he does manage to give me insight. Sometimes I can ask a direct question and get a direct response from him, but not often.” He tipped his head, his gaze sliding to her again. “How long has he been with me? Since I was nine.”

  “Nine!” She blinked at him. “Since you were a child?”

  “Yes. He came to me when I was in crisis mode and on the verge of spinning out of control.”

  “At nine years old?” she repeated, shocked, incredulous. What the hell could have happened to him that would send him over the edge when he was nine? It must have been something to do with his paranormal abilities, she thought, and hoped he would be forthcoming with the details, but she suspected he wouldn’t.

  “Gregory was there for me. He counseled me and showed me there was a way out and a better path to take. And that’s primarily what he does for me. He settles my mind, mends my feelings, and reins in my emotions so that I can think clearly and rationally. Then I’m able to do the work that’s important and vital to me.” He lifted one broad shoulder in a shrug. “He guides me back to spiritual sanity.”

  “Your spirit guide.”

  He smiled. “That’s right.”

  “And he’s very old?”

  “That’s the sense I get from him. I believe he lived centuries ago.”

  “Why did he pick you to guide? Why is he a guide for mortals?”

  “I don’t know.” He frowned. “I’m not sure if it’s a penance or simply his task as a spirit. He hasn’t shared that with me, so I assume it’s none of my business. I think it has something to do with his understanding of how it feels to be an outcast.”

  “Oh? You felt like that, too?” The insight of their shared experience bound her closer to him.

  “Yes. Most of my life. Up until I met Quintara, I suppose.”

  “Were you ever suicidal?” she asked.

  “No. Although, I’m sure I was drinking myself to death when I met Quintara, but I didn’t see it that way. My ego is too huge for me to ever seriously consider offing myself.”

  She shook her head, smiling at his honesty. “So, you think Gregory was an outcast?”

  “He hasn’t told me he was. I just sense it. I believe he’s homosexual. Back when he lived, that would result in instant death.”

  “One of the reasons I haven’t been able to believe much in spirit guides is because of how Billy and Jerrod act in the Roundtable. They have spirit guides – or so they say – and they are very dramatic about them.”

  “Oh, right. Billy and Jerrod.” He chuckled. “They’ve talked to me about their guides. They’re full of shit.”

  Trudy giggled. “I’m glad we agree on that.”

  “Anything else I can help you with?”

  She gave a little shrug. “That’s all for now.”

  Flicking back his cuff, he consulted his Rolex. “We’ll go to the police station and museums tomorrow after we see Quintara to the airport. Are you staying here with me
?”

  “No.” Trudy rose and gathered her purse.

  “Why not?”

  “I need to get back to Stirring Palms.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I do.” She started for the door, but he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her around to face him. The hint of vulnerability around his mouth sent longing through her.

  “What were you playing at this afternoon?”

  She ran a hand down his tie, opting for coyness. “I thought I was playing with you.”

  “You know what I’m talking about,” he rasped. “Why did you rush out of here?”

  “I told you . . .”

  His grip on her arm tightened and he cupped her chin in his other hand and brought her gaze up to his. “I wanted to spend the afternoon in bed with you.”

  “I had things to do, Levi. We’re here to work. Remember?”

  He lowered his mouth to hers slowly and placed lingering kisses on her parted lips. “I remember how you feel underneath me and how you sound when you come. That’s what I remember.”

  Passion simmered in her belly and she closed her eyes, feeling the weakness steal through her, robbing her of her good sense. He lifted his mouth from hers and tipped his head back to stare at the ceiling.

  “Jesus God, I want you,” he groaned. After taking a couple of breaths, he looked down into her eyes again. The resolve stamped on his features made her shiver. “And you want me, too. You’re staying.”

  Chapter Seven

  With a nod, she loosened his tie and unbuttoned his shirt while he shrugged out of his jacket and pulled her shirt up over her head. In a matter of minutes, they had their clothes off and were on the bed again. Trudy clutched at his hips and he clamped his lips around her straining nipple. She drew in a shuddering breath and felt the wetness between her thighs. One touch and she was ready for him. Amazing.

  She parted her legs, wanting no more preamble. What was it about him that made her crave his closeness and yet feel that she could never get close enough to him? “Inside,” she panted. “I want you in me.”

  “Wait one sec.” He reached across her to the side table and opened the drawer, withdrawing a condom from it. Ripping the packet with his teeth, he sheathed himself with practiced ease, grinning down at her.

  “Hurry,” she ordered and then groaned his name as the fullness of him consumed her. Her body clamped around him, creating a friction that was delicious and daunting, all at the same time. He was big and powerful and her body felt stretched to its limit. It felt so good she wanted to cry. But then he moved and she wanted to scream as an orgasm twisted in her stomach and burst forth. She trembled and heard his rasping breath near her ear. There was nothing in the world but him and how he made her feel. He was magic.

  “Jesus, Trudy.” He moved inside her like a surging tide, increasing the tempo with each thrust and retreat, thrust and retreat.

  As she came down off her orgasm, she opened her eyes and stared into Levi’s gorgeous face, which was a study in erotic concentration. His cobalt eyes blazed with pent-up passion as he continued the relentless rhythm, lifting her up, up, up. He was a connoisseur of orgasms, she thought, incoherently. Finding previously undiscovered erotic triggers on her body to touch and rub and suck, he made her tremble with longing and burst with passion.

  The wide crown of his penis rubbed incessantly on a spot inside her that sent flames shooting through her. She opened her mouth and garbled sounds escaped.

  “Ah, yes,” he growled, opening his eyes to slits to watch her. “Explode for me. Just for me. Let me see it.”

  Trudy’s body quickened and clutched violently at him and then she knew she was going to come apart and the shattering came, scattering her like ashes. She heard herself chanting his name in a hoarse, primal cry, begging him to stop and pleading with him never to stop. Never, never, never stop!

  “That’s right, that’s right,” his voice drifted to her like from a fevered dream. “Sweet. Feels so fucking good, doesn’t it?” The words poured over her like warm honey. He grew still, waiting for her body to cease its throbbing and desperate clutching.

  “Oh, my God, Levi,” she whispered, sweeping her damp bangs off her forehead. “That was incredible. I never . . . I don’t know what to say.” She knew she wasn’t making sense and she didn’t care. Her body hummed happily and her mind was nice and foggy so that she didn’t have to think clearly about what had happened and that she was naked and slick with perspiration and that she’d all but screamed his name over and over again. What power did he have over her? How could she ever think that she could be with him like this and not want more and more? Not cringe when she thought of it being over?

  He sandwiched her upper lip between his and sucked gently, then nipped it. “I love your mouth, Trudy. Someday I want to fuck it . . . but right now –.” He slipped his arms beneath her and pulled her up to sit on his lap so that they were face to face. “Ready?”

  She stared into his stormy eyes and realized he was still hard, still primed.

  “For what?” she asked, dubiously. Hadn’t he come yet? After all of that? Every man she’d been with had ejaculated before she came or maybe right after. Actually, the majority of the time, they didn’t even care if she’d come or not. But Levi paid attention. He made sure she was satisfied. It was important to him.

  “I’m going to take you higher, Trudy.”

  She shook her head, not believing that she could experience anything more and worried that she wouldn’t be able to live through it. But then he wrapped one arm around her waist and lifted her and let her settle back down onto him. She convulsed around him, feeling him sink deeper into her. Impossibly deep. Her eyelids fluttered down and a firestorm of sensations burned through her. God, had she ever really had sex before? Did she actually have another orgasm in her? This was . . . was . . . crazy and oh! He rocked his hips, pumping into her faster and harder, driving in and out like a relentless, flesh-covered piston. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held on, her breath escaping in choppy huffs and little moans with each powerful thrust.

  She squeezed her eyes shut as the intensity of her climax climbed higher and higher. When she felt him slow to a long, quivering caress inside her, she shuddered and came again and again, her insides on fire and melting . . . melting.

  “Ahhh, Christ,” he bit out, his face pressed against the side of her neck, his breath hot and rapid on her skin. “Too much. It’s too goddamned much.”

  She draped herself over him, her bones liquefied. After a minute, she managed to raise her head and look at him. His eyes were closed, but opened slowly to smoky blue slits.

  “I think you just blew off the top of my head,” he said, his mouth quirking.

  Trudy laughed under her breath and leaned her forehead against his. “I’ve never had that many orgasms. I don’t know how you do that, but you’re very, very good at it.”

  “Why, thank you, Miss Tucker. I aim to please.” He cupped her breasts in his big hands and ran his thumbs over her tight, sensitive nipples. He blew gently on them and they stiffened and strained to find his lips.

  “Oooh,” she breathed and strove to steady her voice. “I’m not even sure that I ever climaxed before today.”

  His eyes sparkled and she knew she’d pleased him. He kissed the tip of her nose and lowered her back onto the bed. He pulled out of her slowly and stretched beside her. She was vaguely aware of him removing the condom, tying a knot in it, and dropping it into the waste basket beside the bed. And then his hand smoothed over her belly and he drew her closer so that he could nuzzle the side of her neck. “You smell so damned good. What is that? Euphoria?”

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  “When I smell it from now on I’ll get an erection,”

  She laughed as her body and breathing resumed normal functions. But her heart still raced a little and she glanced at Levi from the corner of her eye. From the look on his face, he was satisfied, but had she reached any other part of him besid
es his penis? She wanted to know him. She wanted him to really know her. And that was dangerous thinking. She knew it, but she couldn’t help it.

  He pulled her closer and his mouth claimed her lips as he kissed her deeply, ardently. His tongue caressed hers in long, slick strokes. She twisted her fingers in his hair. God, she loved the ebony silkiness of his hair! And his hands. Those big, commanding, tender, tormenting, consuming hands of his! They covered her breasts possessively, urgently. He tore his lips from hers and fastened them on her straining nipple. Instantly, fire shot to her groin and she moaned. His mouth and fingers were everywhere, sucking and tweaking, licking and flicking until she could not bear it another second. She arched into him.

  “Levi!” she breathed his name.

  “I can’t get enough of you, Trudy. I just can’t.” He ran a hand over her belly and between her legs. He pushed two fingers inside her. “So fucking wet,” he murmured, and then he was on his knees and he had another foil packet. “Turn over onto your stomach.”

  She blinked up at him, not sure she liked the idea. He was suddenly assertive and terse. “What are you . . . what are we . .?”

  “Don’t worry. You’ll like it.” His eyes were dark, dark blue and his lips curved into a tense and predatory smile. He tore open the packet and removed the condom. “Flip over,” he instructed again and sheathed his lengthening cock.

  Unsure of her next move, she stared at him, amazed that he was erect again. “How can you still be hard?” she asked, shaking her head.

  “This is what you do to me, Trudy. I was still hard when you left me this afternoon.” Impatience drew his brows together. He gripped her hips and unceremoniously flipped her over.

  “Levi, wait!” She propped herself on her elbows as panic billowed through her. “What are you going to do?” He wasn’t going to . . . She shuddered. No!

  “Take it easy,” he whispered, running a hand down her spine and cupping her behind. “We’re going to do it doggy style. You’ve done it like this before, right?”

  She shook her head. She’d actually only had sex the old-fashioned way, front to front, and she wasn’t at all sure she wanted to experiment yet. But he was already leaning over her, kissing and sucking all the way from her nape down to the small of her back where his tongue drew lazy circles.