Once Upon A Midnight

by Stephanie Rowe

  She caught her bottom lip between her teeth, holding back a sigh as Ryan peeled her blouse off her shoulder then grazed his tongue over her skin. Moisture pooled between her legs.

  Ryan lifted his shirt over his head and tossed it away, revealing smooth, tan skin that had been kissed by the sun. “I want to make love to you.”

  His simple yet powerful declaration drew a sigh from her. The notion of losing herself in him—doing what felt good without dwelling upon the consequences—was overpowering. To hell with the fact that he’d unwittingly drawn her back into the occult world. Something about being with Ryan felt more than right. She treated herself to the breathtaking view of his bare chest and his broad shoulders then reached out to touch him with trembling hands.

  She plowed her fingers into his hair. “I want you too.”

  He backed her against the wall and held her arms over her head, pinning her to the spot as he licked the sensitive skin on the underside of her arm then tracked his finger after.

  Quivers of longing racked her body as he pressed his mouth to her neck, biting, sucking, kissing. He traced the shell of her ear with his tongue and she gasped at the sensations rushing through her.

  Ryan untucked her shirt then slid his hands under her shirt, skimming up her sides, raising goose bumps wherever he touched. Pure delight streaked through her.

  A totally masculine growl vibrated in his chest as he undressed her above the waist. His gaze scorched her naked skin. “I knew you’d be this beautiful.”

  She clenched her teeth, hardly able to bear the pleasure when he cupped one breast and drew the other into his mouth. He licked circles around the tight, needy point, teasing and tantalizing her.

  She arched her back, urging him on. God, she practically came unglued when he finally sucked the peak into his mouth. He raked his teeth over her sensitive flesh and she dug her fingernails into his shoulders.

  She rocked against him, felt the hard evidence of his arousal press into her abdomen. He moved his hand between her thighs, rubbing along the fabric of her pants, the erotic friction pushing her libido into overdrive. There was way too much material separating them. She unsnapped her jeans and shimmied out of them.

  Ryan broke contact and skimmed his admiring gaze over her in nothing but her lacy black panties. Her nipples tingled under his scrutiny and her heart thudded double time. She’d never yearned for a man’s touch as she did for his.

  He let out a low groan as she traced the hard ridge of his cock through his jeans. She wanted him inside her, filling her, satisfying the demanding hunger overtaking her. “I need you, Ryan.”

  He stripped off his pants in seconds. His legs were just as roped with muscle as she’d suspected, not an inch of fat. He took a condom out of his wallet and tore it open. His impressive size gave her pause. She wondered if she could handle all of him. She swallowed back the trepidation as she watched him sheathe himself.

  Her craving for Ryan consumed all her doubts. He took a step closer, his eyes homing in on her mouth with unabashed savage lust. Hooking his thumbs under the elastic of her panties, he slid them down her legs ever so slowly, as if he unwrapped a fragile piece of rare china rather than a woman.

  She stepped out of them then molded her soft body to his hard one.

  “I want you so much.” His voice was low and husky, laced with carnal intent. He cupped her mound and her breath locked in her chest. Sliding his hand between her thighs, he stroked her as she rocked against him, taking all the pleasure he offered.

  Her sex clenched in anticipation. But she didn’t have to wait long. Ryan slipped a finger inside her for a moment, testing her readiness. And Lord, was she ready.

  She hooked one leg around his hips and he pushed his cock into her, hissing out a breath. He filled her, inch by glorious inch. She tightened around him, her intimate muscles already climbing toward the precipice of pleasure.

  Something fell off the wall nearby—a small decorative mirror—and crashed to the floor, but neither she nor Ryan paid it much heed.

  His thrusts created the most heavenly friction as he drove deeper, pounding her against the wall. She wrapped her other leg around his hip, giving him greater access for the deepest penetration.

  Nothing had ever felt like this—so primal and natural, almost elemental. Her orgasm hit with a new ferocity, flooding her body with the ecstasy she’d waited for her whole life. She dug her fingernails into his shoulders as she quivered with wave after wave of bliss.

  The strain of holding back was evident on Ryan’s flushed face. Once her orgasm had leveled off, he let go and gave in to his release. Muscles corded on his neck as he shuddered and emptied himself inside her with a few purposeful thrusts.

  Breathing heavily, he captured her stare, then her mouth for a devastating kiss. She eased her feet back to the floor, and her head back down to earth.

  “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.” He pressed a kiss to her sweat-damp forehead.

  “Me too.” She could feel his heart pounding as fast as hers.

  He kissed her face and neck lovingly, reverently. But within minutes the deep furrow returned to his brow. He stepped back, breaking their contact, then picked up her clothes from the floor and handed them to her before disposing of the condom.

  “What is it, Ryan?”

  “I just thought of something.” He wouldn’t meet her stare. “Damn it, I shouldn’t have let my feelings get the best of me. Now you could be in even more danger.”

  She froze. “W-why?” She picked up on a dark force that was attempting to push them apart, but when she tried to home in on its nature, it disappeared.

  He dressed in a hurry. “My visions. I didn’t tell you everything.” The lines around his mouth deepened.

  She quickly put on her clothes and tried to scare up a sense of calm but her heart refused to cooperate. Something bad was coming, something that would change the tenuous new threads they’d wrapped around each other. “Tell me.”

  He nodded silently then gestured at the café table for her to sit. Grabbing his beer, he leaned against the counter, and God help her, she wanted him again. But she swallowed back her desire—for the time being—and concentrated on what he had to say.

  His gaze moved to the broken glass on the floor from the mirror they’d knocked off the wall. Emily’s face warmed when she recalled what had caused it to fall.

  Ryan opened a small closet and grabbed a broom and dustpan. Wordlessly, she held the dustpan as he swept. Then he relieved her of the dustpan and dumped the contents in the trash.

  He faced her and the anguish in his eyes was plain. “I didn’t want to mention the rest of my vision earlier, but now… I pray I didn’t just put your life in more jeopardy. I didn’t think about the connection or I never would have, Emily, I swear.” He hit his fist against the wall. “As much as I wanted you—still want you—I would have refrained. After we just did what we did…”

  She touched his shoulder. “What is it?”

  Tiny muscles around his jaw ticked. “We were making love in the vision, right before…”

  “Before I was killed.” Alarm bucked through her. She crumpled into a chair.

  Had she just sealed her own fate?

  Chapter Three

  The change in Emily was palpable. She hadn’t eaten a bite of the sandwiches he’d fixed for dinner. Sensing her discomfort, he reiterated his offer to spend the night on the couch, but she insisted she was okay with them sharing his bed.

  Now, as he held her against him, he could feel the stiffness of her muscles and hear the hitch of her breath every time he shifted in the bed. He couldn’t blame her for regretting making love with him. He wished to God he’d have realized the significance of the act, the perilous position in which it had put her.

  Yet even knowing the consequences, he couldn’t hide his body’s reaction to having the smooth curve of her backside pressed to his groin. Her hair was still damp from her shower and she smelled like his shampoo. For some rea
son, the notion ratcheted his desire even higher. He forced himself to move to the edge of the bed where he couldn’t reach her.

  She rolled over to face him, her pretty eyes glowing in the moonlight streaming in from the window. Even in one of his T-shirts, several sizes too large for her, she was the sexiest thing he’d ever laid eyes on. “I want you too, Ryan.”

  He clenched his jaw against a rush of emotion. “I don’t want to put you in any more danger than I already have.”

  She shook her head. “You didn’t put me there, fate did. Making love again wouldn’t change anything.” She reached out for him and he gladly pulled her into his arms.

  She gave him a leisurely, tasting kiss then straddled his hips and rocked against his arousal. This time he wanted to go slow, touch her everywhere, turn her on, over and over. She took off the T-shirt and all he could do for several seconds was stare at her loveliness.

  Then he rolled her over so she was under him and he began exploring every delicious inch of her, licking, kissing, sucking until she detonated in satisfaction that convulsed her body. But he continued his campaign with his lips, his tongue and his hands.

  He wanted nothing more than to bury himself in her heat but he hung onto his control with every ounce of restraint he could muster. After he’d brought her to climax again, he hesitated only long enough to slip on a condom before finally allowing himself his own gratification.

  He pushed her thighs apart then slid inside her sheath. Staring into her eyes, he could see the haze of her satisfaction, but there was more. There was fear. She turned her head to the side and a tear spilled onto the pillow.

  He stopped moving and gently kissed her eyelids. “I’m going to keep you safe.”

  She gave him a half smile that melted something inside him. He started stroking again, willing her to believe him, trying to convince himself at the same time.

  She moaned and rocked in tandem with him as if they’d been lovers all their lives. “Yes, oh God, yes.”

  Finally, he let go of his control and exploded in deep spasms of ecstasy. His blood roared as he sucked in gasping breaths. Nothing had ever felt so right, so complete. He collapsed on top of her and kissed her dreamy smile.

  He wouldn’t let anything happen to her. He couldn’t lose her.

  Emily shifted her backside so she was in just the right spot—tucked against Ryan’s body. She’d never expected this, had never dreamed that Ryan wanted her as much as she did him. Everything felt perfect now but what would happen if they learned the identity of Becky’s killer? Would the murderer come after her?

  Even if Ryan could protect her from the fate his vision had predicted, was it wise for her to be with him?

  She liked Raleigh and it was just beginning to feel like home. She was making friends with people who had no psychic abilities and had no idea that she did. She wasn’t sure she was ready to open that door to the occult and put herself in jeopardy at every turn, even for Ryan. She wished she knew what he was thinking but his emotions were closed off to her supernatural senses, something she’d rarely encountered.

  Her mother had usually been able to block Emily from reading her mind. But her mother’s boyfriend’s thoughts were apparent to her, which was why she’d run away from New Orleans. Someday she’d mend her relationship with her mother, tell her the truth of why she’d left, but things were always more complicated—and dangerous—when you were privy to people’s emotions.

  She tried again to get a reading on Ryan’s feelings but nothing came to her. “Ryan?”

  “Huh?” he asked with a yawn.

  “I wonder if I’m too close to the situation to help you find Becky’s killer. If I extricate myself from the whole thing, maybe…”

  He sat up and turned on the bedside lamp. “I know you want to do this for Becky, but maybe it’s gotten too dangerous.” Several emotions played out in his expression. It was the disappointment that cut through her.

  She swallowed hard. “She knew we’d be walking into trouble and she wanted us to be careful. Maybe if we go about our business, pretend to drop it, the killer will leave us alone. I go to work at the salon like nothing’s changed and you—”

  “How the hell am I supposed to protect you if I’m not with you? I’ve already lost Becky. I don’t want to take any chances with you. I have to try to find out who killed my sister. I have to. But I can do it without you. I can find another psychic, as long as I know you’re safe and with me.” He sighed with such sadness that her heart squeezed. “The cops here are pretty much useless. They said they investigated Tommy, her boyfriend, but when he gave them some flimsy alibi about being home by himself that night, they dropped it. Course, it probably helped that he’s related to one of their officers.”

  He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Hell, they investigated me more thoroughly than they did him.”

  Her pulse pounded. She wasn’t aware that Ryan had been a suspect. She recalled Becky’s words.

  Go carefully or else say your farewells.

  “Why did they investigate you?” She hoped he hadn’t noticed the tremble in her voice.

  He looked away. “The last time I saw her, we argued. I could swear she picked a fight with me. She seemed on edge. If I said something was black, she said it was hot pink.”

  Her mouth grew dry. “What was the fight about?”

  He shrugged. “Stupid stuff, nothing important. To tell you the truth, I don’t even remember. It was unlike her. You knew her, she was always in a good mood. Until a few months ago. Something changed but she didn’t tell me what that was.”

  She sensed he was holding back but she couldn’t connect with his thoughts. Maybe she was too close to the situation.

  “I know someone who might be willing to help, and I think he knew Becky, although they were only acquaintances.”

  She didn’t need to call upon her supernatural powers to pick up on his skepticism.

  He threw back the sheets, bolted out of bed and started pacing. “I don’t know if I trust anyone else, especially if you don’t know the person well.”

  She persisted. “You said it yourself. I’m risking everything, including my life, if I get too involved with this. Arnie is a gifted psychic. Mainly he hears voices. It’s called clairaudience.”

  He shook his head. “That could be said about people with serious mental conditions.”

  She slipped out of bed and went to him. “Ryan, I know a lot more about this stuff than you. Would you at least agree to talk to Arnie with me?”

  He gave her a forced smile. “If there’s the slightest possibility of making you safer, I’m willing to do whatever it takes. Yeah, I’ll talk to him.”

  She hugged her arms around him and allowed herself a sliver of hope. Maybe Arnie could help find Becky’s killer without putting Emily’s life in further jeopardy.

  * * * * *

  Ryan had never been to a bookstore dedicated to the occult before, but then he’d never believed in ghosts before either. The scent of exotic spices and musty books tickled his nose. A few of the dreamcatchers, like Becky used to make, hung from the ceiling near the windows. Aside from the rows of books, the place had a display of incense and another of assorted hand-labeled bottles of oil. Several racks of silver jewelry and cases filled with crystals of every shape and color lined the long wooden counter, but there didn’t appear to be anyone minding the store.

  Emily leaned over the counter and glanced toward a closed door in the back with a Private sign on it. “Hello? Arnie?” She faced Ryan wearing an apologetic smile. “I’m sure he’ll be out in a minute. This is a one-man show. Kind of reminds me of my mother’s place in NOLA.”

  He’d never heard her mention her mother. “She has a bookstore?”

  She furrowed her brow as she absently sorted through a tray of polished stones but she said nothing. Suddenly the door in the back creaked open. A lanky man with white-blond hair and fair skin crossed the threshold.

  Emily cleared her throat. “Hey, Arnie.�
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  The man smiled wide when he caught sight of her and a surprising pang of jealousy poked at Ryan’s gut. “Emily!” Arnie sliced a glance at Ryan then shifted his mossy eyes back to the only lady in the room. “It’s been a long time. What brings you in?”

  “This is Ryan Barnes, Becky’s brother.” She touched his arm and the contact stirred up erotic memories from the night before.

  Arnie’s smile slipped a little. “Of course, I should have known. There’s a strong resemblance. I’m so sorry about her…” He hung his head.

  “Thank you.” Ryan shook hands with him.

  “We need your help,” Emily said. “Becky’s spirit appeared to Ryan, and to me. I was hoping you could try to contact her.”

  Arnie narrowed his eyes. “Really? Well, I did offer my help to the Kenton Police on the case, but they turned me down flat. Said they didn’t need assistance from a flake. They still don’t have any suspects, huh?” He folded his arms over his chest.

  “Her boyfriend was their top suspect,” Emily told him.

  “That doesn’t surprise me. Frankly, I thought he was an ass.”

  Ryan’s chest tightened. It made him furious that Becky had died a horrible death and Tommy—or whoever had killed her—walked free. “How do you know him?”

  “He used to come with Becky sometimes when she brought me new dreamcatchers.” He pointed to the brightly colored ones hanging closest to the cash register. “They’re big sellers. Hers are more unusual than most I’ve seen, like works of art.” He drew a sigh. “She’ll be missed.”

  “She is,” Emily said.

  “Why aren’t you helping with the case?” Arnie asked her.

  “Well…” She turned to Ryan for a moment and he noticed she was blushing.

  “She and Becky were too close.” Ryan took her hand. “And so are she and I. Becky warned Emily that she could be in danger.”

  “Would you try?” Emily asked Arnie. “Maybe she’ll reveal something she wouldn’t to me. She won’t find peace until her killer’s caught.”