Dreamscape (21 page)

Bathed in a moonlit sheen of exertion, Lanie’s back arched, and in that moment Jason could feel her mind—her focused pursuit, the blissful abandon, and the surety that this was meant to be. The gathering excitement that formed in their union erupted like a volcano. He rode her hard now, his own pleasure exploding from his balls and wresting her climax to the fore until they clutched at one another to withstand the tide threatening to wash them both away.

His body fully merged with hers, he poured into her and panted against her shoulder as her body milked him dry. Their heartbeats harmonized as their bodies cooled. Jason’s words, when they came, were laced with the miracle of loving her. He told her, “I love you so, my darling.”

“I love you,” She replied softly. Then, inexplicably, Lanie began to cry.

Lanie woke in silent misery, rolled over and sobbed into her pillow.

She’d had the most wonderful dream. She’d dreamt Jason had made love to her and as if the whole thing hadn’t been amazing on its own, he’d held her after and told her he loved her. And he was dead.

Breaking the vow he’d made to limit his visit only to her dreams, Jason appeared at the edge of her bed and laid a blue-lit hand on her bare shoulder. “Lanie, why are you crying? Tell me, sweetheart, talk to me…”

The realization that she hopelessly loved a man who’d died in 1886 twisted like a knife in her stomach. She sat up, threw herself into the arms of a ghost she couldn’t possibly love as a man, and cried even harder.

Jason pulled her onto his lap, and noted for the first time since she’d moved into his house, touching her didn’t require extreme mental effort. In fact when he looked at his arms around her, his body seemed to have more density. He rocked her back and forth, smoothing her hair and laying kisses on top of her head between comforting words. “Shh, I’m here, nothing will hurt you, shh.” An unbidden thought wrenched him inside. He had to ask, “Did you have a bad dream?” He swallowed. “A nightmare?”

“N–no, I mean yes, I mean…oh…I don’t know
what
I m–mean.” Hearing voices coming from the front yard, Lanie was pulled from her misery. The day had begun. She sniffed. “Damn, they’re here already. I need to get control of myself.” She reluctantly rose and turned to him without meeting his eyes. “Thank you for your comfort.” With that, she quickly washed and dressed for the day.

Jason watched her extremely abbreviated morning toilette with concern. Though Lanie’s eyes never went to him again, he still sat on the bed willing her to look his way. Their coupling had been transcendent. His mind had connected with hers at the same moment their bodies merged, and he knew then and there he’d never experienced anything close since he’d become a man. The bliss of how she fit his cock like a silken glove briefly settled in his balls, but it was how she filled his soul that spoke to him now. Before his marriage he’d had liaisons with women who catered to wealthy men, but he’d never lain with a maiden before. Then it hit him. He was married.
Was that the reason for her tears?
Lanie was well aware of Cathy’s duplicity if not her treachery, but the fact remained she
had
lain with another woman’s husband whether the wife was faithful or not. In the dreaming world Lanie created for them in his time, her sensibilities might be affected that way. However he doubted Lanie as he knew her here would feel the same. Recalling her kiss-swollen lips after her date with a strange man so many weeks before, he frowned and shook his head. He just didn’t know. She’d wanted him at the time. He knew the certainty of that by her body’s response to him. Unlike her waking world where his senses were mere shadows of their former selves, in her dream the man he was possessed full faculties, and as such her aroused state could be fully appreciated. He certainly had. Perhaps she wasn’t ready to give her virginity to a man. No, she had asked him what to do. Didn’t that imply she was ready?

Going to the window, he leaned onto the sash and looked out. Directly below, Lanie stood speaking with Ben, Zack, and two other men he’d never seen there before, workers by the look of them. A loud rumble caused him to peer down the street. A large vehicle was approaching, carrying a massive turning drum. When Ben’s brother went to the curb and motioned to the driver, the workers scattered. Jason couldn’t imagine what was going on.

She hadn’t had time to see to it up here, so Lanie absently braided her hair while she spoke with Ben. When Lanie walked out of sight in the yard, he returned to sit on their bed. Cathy had interrupted the lover’s interlude at the top of the house. Apparently Bertha, no doubt chattering incessantly, had paid little attention to where she put her foot and had fallen over her skirts and straight into a lamp post to knock herself unconscious. Although concussed, she would be fine but no doubt sporting a black eye that couldn’t do worse to her Mason countenance. He remembered treating her the night after the fireworks. That was before he knew of their plot. But still, he was a physician bound by the oath he swore to heal. He’d check on her if Lanie’s dreams took them there again. Mason or not.

He supposed he should be grateful for their untimely return. A gift as he’d been given deserved to be unwrapped as it was. On her bed, with special attention paid to Lanie’s naiveté, he was able to bring her the ultimate pleasure. Loving her like he did, he’d wanted the moment to be all it could possibly be. A thought came to him then that what precipitated her tears was his declaration of love. He didn’t have time to ponder that before Lanie entered the room. Again she averted her eyes. “Lanie...”

Grabbing her cell phone from her night stand, Lanie shook her head and put her hand up to halt his sentence. “I–I can’t…” An instant later as she turned to leave, he materialized in the doorway.

“Lanie, please…
talk
to me.”

Avoiding his face, she hurried past him and ran down the stairs.

Had they been alone, he would have followed. Instead he closed the door, acknowledging the fact the action took as little mental focus on his part as pulling her onto his lap had.

Chapter 19

In his spectral state, time generally held no meaning for Jason. But time had never passed so slowly in life or in death as it had today. He’d waited all day to talk to her. As if her avoidance hadn’t been frustrating enough, she’d gotten into her automobile and driven off the minute Ben left her. After the beautiful experience they’d shared in her dream, he couldn’t imagine her reason. She wasn’t going to turn away without telling him what the matter was again, not if he had to materialize in front of her every step she took. An automobile rolled into the driveway at nine-thirty that night, but when Jason looked out the window he saw it belonged to Lexie. Without thinking, he materialized in plain view on the stairs. Catching himself, he disappeared again before Lexie saw him.

“Come on, you lush. Let’s get you to bed.” Lexie gently ribbed a somewhat intoxicated Lanie. The staircase was long, so the pair took it carefully one step at a time.

“I didn’t drink
that
much,” Lanie disagreed, the words slightly slurred.

“No, you didn’t drink
that
much. The problem is you don’t normally drink
at all
. You
know
you have no tolerance for it.”

“No I don’t.” Lanie giggled. “Remember that time, whatser-name’s graduation party? Tonight I only had…” She let go of the railing to count her fingers.

“
Whoa
there.
Hold
the railing!” Lexie laughed. “You had three margaritas, three too many, you goose.”

She giggled again. “Goose.” Turning to Lexie, Lanie said, “Hey, what about my car?”

“Don’t worry about the car. Pete and I will bring it tomorrow,” Lexie assured her confidently. Her husband was a stickler about not drinking and driving himself and she knew he wouldn’t mind bringing Lanie’s car back in the morning. Lanie had come over with a bottle of pre-mixed Margaritas and proceeded to slam three without ice to water them down. Only after did Lexie hear how she hadn’t had a thing to eat all day. Some pretty crazy things came to light as Lanie grew tipsy, mainly the details of her imaginary life with Jason Bowen’s ghost. While she’d heard these dream details for years, what Lanie was rambling on about tonight was beginning to make her think her friend was going wacky on her.

“You’re too good to
meeeeeee
…” Lanie leaned into her, almost knocking them both down the stairs.

Jason instantly materialized and caught them both. “There now, watch your step, you two.”

Lexie gasped in disbelief. Shaking knees gave way, and she found herself sitting on the top stair with her legs and mind at odds—the legs said run, the mind said stay. Her eyes never left the ghost standing before her when she pulled Lanie to sit down with her.

Lanie giggled. “You see ‘em, too, dontcha? I see ‘em. I see ‘em all the time. Jason, tell Lexie I see you all the time.”

Jason went from Lanie to Lexie. “I take it Lanie’s had spirits?”

“Spirits?
” Lexie asked mechanically, still in shock.

“Ha! A ghost asking about
spirits!
Ha!” Lanie fell backward on the landing, pulling Lexie back with her.

Lexie looked up at him in as he thrust out his hand to help her rise.

“Please don’t fear me,” Jason coaxed. “Please. I won’t hurt you.”

Accepting his slightly substantial hand first, they both pulled Lanie to her feet. Ten minutes later, Lexie had a softly snoring Lanie tucked safely in bed.

Jason waited on the stairs. “May we talk?”

“I–I…” Lexie’s heart was beating fast.

“Please, Lexie,” Jason coaxed. “At least help me understand what happened to put her in such a state.”

She told him, as if he didn’t know. “You’re Jason Bowen.”

“Yes.” He gave her a reassuring smile.

“How is this possible?”

“What, me standing here as I am? Your guess is as good as mine. I suppose my spirit has unfinished business to see to.” The thought of the light coming to take him away gripped his stomach again.

“Lanie came over with a bottle tonight to celebrate the concrete being poured.”

He raised a brow at her skeptically.

She looked at him and understood.
You already know why.
Her friend wasn’t celebrating, she was hurting inside. Hurting and dreaming again. Without preamble she asked, “Why is she dreaming of you? She’s been dreaming about you and this house since she was a child. You’re doing that to her, aren’t you?” Her last words had an edge.

Feeling guilty, Jason assured her, “Believe me when I say I had no knowledge of Lanie before she moved into my home.”

Lexie had seen enough crime shows to know when a guy dodged a question. She asked again, “You’re influencing her dreams
now
though, aren’t you?”

Jason considered her a moment then answered her question with his own. “You say she’s been dreaming of me and this house since she was a girl. What can you tell me about that?”

Lexie narrowed her eyes at him.

The action made him laugh.

The warm laugh completely disarmed Lexie, and she smiled. “Okay we’ll do it your way, but my question is still on the table and I really would like an answer before I leave.” Pulling her cell phone from her pocket she said, “Excuse me a moment.” She proceeded to text Pete to tell him she was staying with Lanie a while longer and would be home later than her note had said.

Fascinated, Jason watched Lexie’s flying thumb. A moment later the little device made a jingling sound unlike any telephone bell he’d ever heard. His eyes went to her face.

Responding to his unasked question lighting his unusual eyes, she explained, “I’m texting my husband to let him know I’ll be late.”

He shook his head. “I’m not familiar with the word.”

“It’s like a telephone, but you write abbreviated words to talk instead of using your voice.”

“How about that.” Jason had seen the world advance around him, watched as electricity and the telephone entered the Mason’s lives. A radio came one year, a television after that. He loathed the blasted machine. There was something about the intrusive sound of the television that made him feel uncomfortable. The modern world was excessively noisy and there were times when Margaret had the damn thing turned so loud he couldn’t hear himself think. He’d seen the changes happening to society on the television and much of it left him confused. He couldn’t understand things like the correlation between near-naked women and the advertisement of sandwiches or automobiles. Margaret had told him about a thing called a laugh track, but he still couldn’t understand why rude words from a child’s mouth would be considered humorous. Shaking away the thought, he repeated his earlier question. “You mentioned Lanie’s dreams…”

Putting the phone back in her pocket, she went on to explain how at age nine she and Lanie became friends while waiting to be placed in their separate foster homes. They kept in touch through letters and phone calls and then Lanie’s foster parents bought a house two blocks away, and their friendship became even closer. As if the declaration were meant to let him know Lanie wasn’t alone in the world and there was someone looking out for her, she told him, “We’re as close as sisters.” Then she explained the first dream. “We were at the same school now and used to walk home together. So one afternoon she tells me about this house. She dreamed that she lived here, but no one knew she was here.”