“Is that supposed to be romantic?” she asked, raising her hips up to meet his, grinding slightly.
He groaned.
She focused on how his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. His breath came in short pants. “It’s about as romantic as I can get.”
He hadn’t been too great with the sweet nothings as a kid, so she really didn’t expect him to be wonderful with sentiments today. His hands roamed her body, bringing her a combination of torture and pleasure.
“Oh, good Lord,” she said, digging her heels into the bed. She bit down on her lower lip.
He smiled, rolling over her faster. His thumbs running over her cheeks as he rested his elbows next to her head. “Amazing chemistry,” he whispered.
“The best.” She tried to control her breathing, but kept gasping, choking on air. Digging her fingers into his backside, she arched her back, begging for him give her release.
When she thought she couldn’t take it a second longer, he stilled and stared down at her, his eyes heavy with longing. He ran a hand across her forehead, through her hair, then down her cheek and across her lip. “Beautiful,” he said before he thrust himself deep inside her.
Right word, right time.
The room spun, and a wave of dizziness blurred her vision. She couldn’t see anything but him. Hear anything but the deep rumble of his moans. The intensity of his gaze cut through her like a knife slicing into soft butter.
This was her man.
The soul she belonged to.
Her destiny.
She tightened her legs around him, holding him as close as she could. The experience was more powerful than she’d been prepared for. Her climax ripped through her body like a tidal wave crashing against the beach. She’d barely noticed his own release spilling into her as he called out her name.
“Courtney,” he whispered between deep moans. “Sweet Courtney.”
Moments later, he collapsed on top of her. She welcomed his weight, stroking his sweat that beaded across his back. She’d worked so hard to get to this point, she wasn’t quite sure what to do next. Getting him in bed was only half the battle. Making him realize they were meant for each other would be a little harder. Having him embrace his unique talent might be impossible.
Her grandmother had told her about how disillusioned he’d become as an adult. Cynical had been the word she used when describing him. Something about when your heart isn’t near the one you need, you become lost.
Didn’t she know it. Her life had spiraled into one bad decision after another. Once she moved back, she began to feel like she had a future. But did she really have a future with him?
She feared he might fight it.
“Something wrong?” He shifted to the side, pulling the covers over their bodies and holding her close.
“No.” She raised up on her elbow and ran her fingers through his chest hair. How did she explain this without scaring him away? He didn’t believe in ghosts, the spirit world, or that you could call on them for help, like she did with her grandmother. Grandma had always been there for her, even when Courtney had turned her back on everything she knew to be true. “It’s just, you’re kind of complicated. Or maybe it’s more like you’re a contradiction of sorts.”
He wrinkled his forehead, narrowing his eyes. “Not sure what that means.”
She patted his chest, then gave his pec a kiss before resting her head on his shoulder. “Stay with me tonight?”
He didn’t answer in words, just pulled her closer. She closed her eyes and tried not to think about forever. She couldn’t get ahead of herself. People didn’t fall in love overnight. Even two people who would never be whole without each other.
3
Owen stretched, inhaling a combination of coffee and French toast mixed with an ocean-beach smell. It was as if he woke up on some tropical island that included a free breakfast. Odd, it kind of reminded him of a dream he’d had a few times. He reached for Courtney, but she wasn’t there, hence the intoxicating aromas.
A faint glow from the rising sun peeked through the window. He punched the pillow, rolled to his side, and buried his face. He didn’t want to feel anything for her because it was based on stupid teenage… Hell if he knew what. A trip down memory lane maybe? Hell, he liked her. Liked her a lot, always had. But that wasn’t the point. This was crossing the line.
No, it’s not. You’re connected to her. Don’t fight it.
I doubt this is what you had in mind when you asked me to watch over her when she returned.
Actually…
“How did you know she’d be back?” he asked out loud, as if that would make him feel better about having a conversation with a dead woman.
“Who are you talking to?”
He jumped the moment he heard Courtney’s honey-drenched voice. Damn woman drove him nuts. “I didn’t say anything.”
“And I’m Miss America.” She handed him a cup of coffee and slipped in next to him. Her bare legs rubbed against him under the sheets.
“Pretty damn close.” The coffee smelled like she’d drizzled something other than sugar and cream in it, but he couldn’t place it.
Nutmeg maybe.
She nuzzled her head in his shoulder while he sipped his coffee. The scene was hauntingly familiar, and way too comfortable for his liking. He’d never been comfortable when he’d been living with Nicole. But he hadn’t loved Nicole. Hell, he didn’t love Courtney. He’d just had great sex with the first girl he’d ever kissed. Just being a stupid, sappy old man, nothing more.
True love isn’t sappy.
You’re not real.
Yeah. I am.
Prove it.
Something chilly pressed against his hand and then a few hot drops of coffee spilled out on his chest. “Damn.” He jerked.
“Careful,” Courtney said. “That’s hot.”
“I know.” He rubbed his chest, cursing silently.
Big oaf. I proved it, and you’re still being a stubborn mule.
Oaf? Mule? Right.
Long
