Possession

by Linda Mooney

  She was wrapped around him like a cocoon. His partially deflated erection was still deeply embedded within her and still feeling the aftershocks of her muscles quivering around his shaft as they tried to both expel him and swallow him even further within her depths. Her warmth penetrated into his very bones, if he still had them.

  He hadn’t known if he could make love to her. He only knew that he had prayed for it to be a possibility. If he could solidify enough for others to be able to touch him, if he was capable of kissing her, then his hopes of taking her physically had seemed very likely. At least, that’s what he had kept telling himself all day as his mind never strayed too far from her.

  The argument of whether or not he deserved her had been dismissed long ago. J had been right to tell him that he had to live for the now, for what he had now. Not whine about what should have happened. “Should have happened” was wasted time. “Now” was what they had. Together. If he wasted that, Kiel knew he would never have another chance.

  J loved him. As incredible as it was, this brave yet vulnerable woman was willing to give him her most precious gift in the little time they had. Her sacrifice not only humbled him, it devastated him. There was nothing he could give her in return that would equal it. There was nothing he could do, or say, or offer that would equal this precious part of her life that she willingly let him have.

  He tasted the salt of her sweat, and a brief thread of regret went through him. Spirits have no blood, no body fluids, no sweat. He couldn’t spit or moisten his dry lips. Neither could he give her anything that would remind her of his possession of her. Yes, he’d had an orgasm—an ingrained memory and bodily reaction that his mind had replayed over for him at the exact instant he needed it. With her it had been the perfect moment, the most perfect release, but there had been no semen. No sperm. Thus, there was no chance of impregnating her, despite the secret wish that he could give her some small token of himself to remember him by after he was gone.

  He was not disappointed as much as he was saddened by the absence.

  At this moment her heartbeat echoed inside his chest like a second rhythm. Her breathing labored in his lungs. The cadence of her blood rushed through both their bodies. In the end, however, it was all a mirage. No matter how detailed he made it appear that he was still living, in the end he was just as dead.

  Carefully he disengaged himself from her limbs and dematerialized until he was standing beside the divan, looking down at her. If he was gone too long she would get cold and possibly wake up to find him gone. That would terrify her. After pulling the small afghan over her, Kiel vanished from the room.

  Quickly, he checked the yard and grounds outside the house to make sure all was safe and secure for the night. The streets were wet from a brief shower. Curls of steam rose from the damp tarmac like miniature fogbanks, sending a sharp reek into the air. The moon was nearly at the first quarter and on the downward slope. Dawn was a few short hours away. Good. That meant there was time to love her again.

  Sam’s reminder to him that he was supposed to spend the night with her hadn’t been so much a reminder than it had been a shove. Both he and his brother had struck out repeatedly in the romance department, but neither one teased or joked the other about it. They had pretty much assumed they would remain solitary, leaning only on each other for support until the job finally got to them. Sam must have seen the connection growing between him and J. He had rejoiced in it, and his nudging had been his way of letting Kiel know he was backing him one hundred percent, even if he was dead.

  It was, to say the least, an unusual circumstance. A blind psychic in love with a dead man, who had come back as a spirit to find the person responsible for his death and/or his body. Good heavens, it sounded like the plot to a bad B-rated horror movie. Kiel smiled in spite of the irony.

  J shifted on the divan. Kiel felt her movement and instantly reappeared back in the parlor. Gradually, like smoke, he resumed his place in her embrace, into her body, fitting her as though she had been made for him. Delicious warmth filtered through him.

  Closing his eyes, he draped his free arm around her back and held her. She shifted again until she was snug under his chin. A deep sigh feathered over his chest. If he could have cried at that moment, Kiel knew he would have.

  What was going to happen to her when he was gone? It was a question he had wrestled with ever since J had told him she loved him. Eventually he would have to discuss it with Sam. Hopefully, the two of them could come up with some way of making sure she was taken care of after he departed the realm of the living. Someone had to give her comfort when she mourned. Kiel trusted no one else but Sam to be there for her. No one else but Sam would understand what she was going through. And J would be the only person who would understand what Sam was facing, as well.

  “You are my dearest love,” he whispered into her hair. “I stopped looking long ago for someone to share my life with. My work kept me too busy. And then, hell, I died. I’ll never understand what brought us together, but I’ll never forget you. I’ll take the taste and smell of you into the afterlife with me. I’ll always remember the sound of your voice and the look in your eyes. You may be blind, J, but your eyes tell me everything.” Pressing his lips again to her forehead, he let his mouth slowly slide downward, past her temple and small ear, stopping when he reached her cheek. J moved again in his embrace, accompanied by an involuntary clenching of her muscles around his softened erection. Immediately, he reacted, until he was as hard and heavy as before.

  The sensation awakened both their libidos.

  Of the handful of women he had made love to during his brief lifetime, Kiel had never brought anyone from the depths of sleep with the act. But every moment he remained on this earth was too precious to waste, especially now that he and J had found each other.

  Careful to keep her from falling off the divan, he rolled her onto her back and propped his arms on either side of her shoulders. Instinctively she folded her arms over her chest and sighed.

  He tasted her cheek again, luxuriating in the sweetness of her body. Her warm silkiness was intoxicating, more potent and heady than a strong drink. Oh, God, she was absolutely the most beautiful thing he had ever encountered in his whole life. Before he was aware of his own actions, his hips thrust slightly, burrowing himself deeper inside her. The movement elicited a tiny moan from her. He could feel her muscles firming beneath and around him as she fought the heavy pull of sleep.

  “Kiel?”

  Her earlobe was velvet. The skin below it was a thin film of silk covering her pulse. Kiel drew a deep breath to savor her, and he dove back into her body. “I’m sorry, J.”

  Small hands traced his chest and shoulders, then rounded his neck to cling to him. “For what?

  “For awakening you. I know you must be exhausted.” His lips skimmed her throat until he found the hollow where a slight moistness lay. Eagerly he tongued her sweat, and J moaned again. Steadily he continued to move in and out of her where their joining was fast becoming hotter and wetter with every thrust.

  “Kiel, I do love you.”

  The simple confession tore at him. “I know, honey, but it can’t compare to how much I’m in love with you.”

  Raising his head, he gazed down at her lovely features as they reflected dark gold in the pale light of the oil lamp. Shifting slightly, he waited for J to readjust her legs around his waist before continuing his plunges. No further words passed between them as the maelstrom of feelings expanded and contracted like a rising heartbeat—promising, retreating, growing, retreating. The gentle roughness of her inner channel walls rasped across the thin sleeve of skin, over heightened nerves, forcing the sensations to shoot through him like fireworks. Until finally their climax suddenly broke through, exploding like a geyser, rising higher and higher, spreading outward with far-reaching tendrils, and covering them from head to toe. J jerked as she gasped and clutched at Kiel’s shoulders. Burying his face against hers, Kiel dug his hands underneath her and trie
d to remain as deeply embedded in her as possible. His whole body shuddered in the aftermath.

  For long, long minutes they simply lay there, wanting to extend this precious, perfect moment for as long as possible. It was a tug on his hair that finally made him lift his head from the curve of her neck where he had made his pillow.

  “Am I too heavy for you?”

  He watched as J opened her eyes and started to answer him when her brows suddenly jerked downward. A second later, her hazel gaze widened in shock.

  “Oh my God! Kiel! I can see you!”

  He froze in disbelief. “What?”

  “I mean, not see see you, but…” A trembling finger touched the tip of his nose with unerring accuracy. Tears filled her eyes, forcing her to blink them away so she wouldn’t lose sight of him. “In your aura your face is outlined, like it’s covered with a thousand tiny lights.” She ran a fingertip over his brows, paused, then touched his lower lip, skimming the surface of his mouth. “Where did you get the scar?”

  “Which one?” he whispered. Her touch was like magic, filling him with tenderness.

  A finger tapped the top of his right cheek. “Two puncture wounds. Right here. Old scars.”

  “Mr. Hindell’s English bulldog bit me when I was six. Can you really see me, J?”

  Her smile widened, encompassing him with such love it left him breathless.

  “You are the most wonderful sight in the world. Kiel, my love, you’re beautiful!”

  Somehow he managed to scoff. “Men aren’t beautiful. Handsome, yes. But you don’t use words like beautiful to describe a man.”

  “You’re beautiful to me,” J argued with a playful little pout.

  Seeing how her lips pursed petulantly was too much for him to resist, and Kiel bent down to kiss her. To his delight she no longer hesitated to tease him with her tongue. Angling his mouth over hers, he drank of her offerings both physical and emotional.

  It wasn’t until he felt her hands patting insistently against his sternum that he broke away from her. Raising his head, he started to ask her what she needed when J began to wriggle out from underneath him. Reluctantly he pulled out and away from her, rolled onto his side, and watched as she tossed him a mischievous grin and got to her feet.

  “How fast can you move?”

  “Huh?” Standing in the soft glow of the lamp, her skin glistened from their previous lovemaking. Her pale pink nipples were still erect. She was as perfect as any sculptor’s statue.

  “How fast can you get upstairs? Betcha I can beat you to the bedroom!”

  Before he could answer her, J turned and dashed out of the library. A moment later he could hear her pounding up the carpeted stairs. Giving a loud laugh, he vanished from the divan and materialized at the top of the staircase scant seconds ahead of her.

  She collided with him with a shriek and a sigh of giggles. He tried to put his arms around her, but she danced to the side and dashed off to the right, around the railing. She didn’t stop until her hand slapped the doorframe leading to her room. “Beat you!” she crowed.

  “No fair. You knew which one it was. I didn’t.”

  Instead of answering him, she disappeared inside. Kiel followed to find her jerking back the covers off a canopy bed as she crawled underneath the remaining sheet. He paused long enough to take in the massive old furniture and the little touches which spoke of this room as being her personal sanctuary. With his ghostly vision he could see every detail as clearly as if it were day. He really didn’t need light. The lantern and fireplace had merely been ambience.

  There was a soft pat on the bed. “Are you going to stand there the rest of the night, or are you going to keep me company?”

  Crawling into the bed beside her, Kiel gasped in surprise to feel her hand reaching for him between his legs. “My dear, what kind of upbringing did you say you had?” he teased her before he chuckled.

  It was the wrong thing to say. Immediately J jerked back her hand. A look of consternation crossed her lovely features. “I’m sorry. I’m not supposed to do that?”

  Laughing softly, Kiel grabbed her hand and brought it back to where she had been touching him. “I was kidding. You can touch me all you want. In fact, you might notice I kinda like it.” Her caresses over his member were having a direct affect on him, and there was no way she could misinterpret its movements in her palm.

  “Kiel?” She snuggled closer to him. Her free hand continued to explore his body, memorizing him.

  “Yeah, honey?”

  “If you’re still around tomorrow night…”

  He saw her biting her lower lip. “If I’m still around tomorrow night…” he echoed to urge her on.

  “Would you spend the night with me again?”

  “J, if it were possible, I’d make it a point to spend every night with you for the rest of our existence.”

  The stroking stopped. He could hear the wavering in her voice as she asked, “Honestly?”

  “Or until you kick me out,” he replied, trying to make light of the situation. It was either that, or be reminded of the hopelessness of their situation.

  The tug on his now fully engorged erection made him groan. “Is that a proposal, Mr. Stark?”

  “I wish it was, honey.”

  “Well, can we at least pretend it was?”

  “For whatever time we have together, yeah.” He placed a tender kiss to her forehead. “Yeah, J. It was a proposal.”

  “Then my answer is yes,” she breathed softly, giving him another tug.

  They sealed their promise with more than a kiss.

  “He’s a cop! He’s a fuckin’ cop!”

  There was a scream and a strangled cry, both muted by the confusion. Fire and firepower combined into one intense roar of hate and anger. Bodies passed beyond the burning lab, casting shadows over the scene.

  Sam threw a hand over his eyes to shield them from the glare as he stared into the mass, trying to find the one person he feared for. Trying to find some evidence as to where he was. Rancid smoke filled his lungs and stung his eyes until tears rolled down his cheeks. He coughed, struggling to breathe.

  Gunshots echoed in the abandoned garage. A bullet passed by with a high-pitched whine, like a giant mosquito. He stumbled over overturned chairs and other unidentifiable debris.

  “Kiel! Kiel!”

  “Sam!”

  It was his brother’s voice, weak and filled with fear. There were some muttered curses, not from him, and the smacking sound of something hard meeting flesh.

  There were shadows off to his right. A flash of Kiel’s face reflected in the firelight. Blood was running down the side of his face and his eyes were closed. Two men Sam didn’t recognize were dragging him by the arms toward the rear of the garage.

  “Halt! Police! Let him go!” He aimed for the biggest one and fired. The guy flinched when the bullet found him, but he continued to drag his hostage.

  Someone came up beside him, an undercover cop by the name of Uvalde, looking ragged and soot-streaked. He held his service revolver at shoulder level.

  “They got Kiel!” Sam snapped.

  “Who did?”

  “Two of ’em. I didn’t recognize them. They went out the back.” Instead of waiting for the man to answer him, Sam started off in that direction. Vaguely he was aware of a call being sent out to the officers surrounding the garage to be on the lookout.

  Outside the air was fresher. He dragged the stuff deep into his lungs to clear out the stench. In the dark he could see nothing. The growing fire behind him played tricks with his eyes. Pulling his flashlight out of his back pocket, Sam scoured the gravel for some sign of where they had gone. He finally found footprints which led from the back, away from the garage. A twin trail of scuff marks ran between them. Kiel’s. He had to be unconscious or else he would have been walking, if not trying to fight them.

  The tracks led down a small rise to a dirt patch wide enough to park a car. Only there was no vehicle there, just a fresh wet patch in
the center. Sam fingered the stuff and sniffed it. Transmission fluid.

  Uvalde came jogging up next to him as the sounds of the bust gone bad faded behind them.

  “Whatcha got?”

  “Nothing.” Sam shook his head as he stood and faced the nearby empty street. “Not a fucking thing. There were two of ’em, and they got Kiel, but I managed to tag one of them. There’s no telling who they were or what they were driving.”

  “Kiel can take care of himself,” the undercover cop tried to sound upbeat.

  A coldness trickled through him. For some reason he couldn’t explain, Sam knew that this time Kiel wouldn’t be getting out of this situation alive. “Let’s hope so,” he answered anyway.

  Sam jerked awake. His body was coated with sweat. The sheets and blanket were lying in a twisted heap on the floor beside the bed. He lay there for several long moments and willed his heart to slow down. He was gasping for air just as he had done the night of the bust. Damn, but he could still taste the acidic stench of smoke in his mouth.

  It was daylight. A quick glance at the bedside clock read a little past seven. His muscles eased a bit as the world gradually came into focus. Then it slammed into him, and he sniffed long and loud.

  No coffee.

  Oh, fuck! No!

  His feet hit the floor with a thud. Sam hurried into the kitchen to verify what his nose had told him. The coffee carafe sat upside-down on the drainboard where he’d left it yesterday. There was no fresh brew waiting for him, which meant there was no Kiel. His knees threatened to give way.

  A bitterness roiled in his gut, threatening to throw him into upheavals. Sam forced his stomach to settle, unaware that he was clenching his hands into white-knuckled fists.

  Kiel was gone.

  The tightness in his chest nearly blindsided him, until he remembered.

  Kiel spent the night with J.

  Sam gasped for breath and heard it whine in his throat. He scrambled for the wall phone, nearly dropping the receiver in his haste to punch in the department’s number.