Authors: Jessi Gage
He made sure a pillow cushioned her back. Curling one arm around her, he patted her lap and said, “Put your hands here.” When she did, he draped a thin towel over the backs of her hands and rested the ice pack on top. The cold seeped through the towel to soothe her painful knuckles.
“You didn’t have to do that,” she said even though the gesture was like an injection of cozy joy straight to her heart.
He nuzzled the side of her head. “Yes, I did.” He sighed through his nose, a sound of self-incrimination.
“It wasn’t your fault,” she insisted.
“Yes. It was. I was a coward. And an ass. Unwilling to see what was right in front of me.”
She leaned forward, offended he could possibly think he’d done anything wrong. “You did what any sane person would do. It’s not normal to have strangers appear out of nowhere in the middle of your bedroom.”
“You have a point,” he conceded. “But it’s not like you sprang yourself on me. I had plenty of opportunities to figure out you were here. I was just being dense. Can you forgive me?”
“There’s nothing to forgive.” It was sweet he thought he owed her an apology, but she was eager to get back to the kissing. Her gaze kept darting to the clock, which insisted on counting down her time with him.
“Hush. Let me do this,” he said, placing a finger over her lips. When he continued, he traced that finger down her chin and throat and dragged it across her collarbone, making her shiver all over. Okay, she could handle him apologizing as long as he had other things in mind, too. “When I thought you were imaginary, it didn’t bother me to…” He forced air out his nose and cupped her cheek. “Use you like I did last night.”
She gasped. “Use me? How was that using me? I practically jumped you. I should have been more sensitive–you’d just had a terrible dream, and there I was, kissing you and grabbing you. I should be asking your forgiveness.”
He pinched her lips closed. His eyes twinkled with mischief, but sobered as he said, “Sweetheart, there was nothing wrong with what you did to me. Nothing. I only wish I had returned the favor. It’s an oversight I plan to correct. Now.”
He lowered his mouth to hers and paused a breath away. Their eyes locked. Everything from her lips to the soft place between her legs plumped up in anticipation of the wicked promises in his gaze. He attacked her mouth with a growl.
Nothing like the apologetic kiss from before, this kiss demanded. It took. This kiss was the best thing to happen to her ever, and that had to include whatever she’d experienced before the fog. The ice pack forgotten, she twined her arms around his neck.
He withdrew only enough to change his angle and seal their open mouths more perfectly. That second of separation had her gasping his name.
“I’ve got you,” he murmured, and he hauled her onto his lap, encouraging her to straddle him.
She held on for dear life while he ravaged her mouth. Liquid heat gathered between her legs, and every feminine part of her ached to be fondled.
His desire was evident too, as his sweatpants did nothing to disguise the erection pressing at her bottom. She remembered how it had felt in her hand the night before. The fog could not have her back until she’d known the bliss of that magnificent length buried deep within her, where it was meant to be.
Keeping their bodies smashed together with one strong arm, Derek flipped her onto her back. His weight on top of her was the sweetest security, his hot, wet kisses the deepest comfort.
She wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling their pelvises into alignment.
He tore his mouth from hers to trail kisses down her throat while he worked the buttons down the front of her shirt. “Let’s get you out of these clothes, sweetheart.”
Yes, yes,
she thought, but it came out as a desperate mewling sound.
He chuckled, but the smirk dropped from his face when he exposed her lacy, white bra.
“Beautiful.”
Was she? She still didn’t know what she looked like, but was glad Derek approved. “Thank you,” she said, trying to tug him down for more of those fantastic kisses.
His smirk returned. “Oh, no you don’t. This is my show now, and I want to put my mouth somewhere else.”
If his words didn’t send her body into sensual shock, his hungry gaze certainly did. She couldn’t believe she was the object of such intensity. It should frighten her, but it filled her with confidence, instead. That confidence guiding her, she ran her hands along his hard arms and shoulders. Nothing in this strange existence, not even comforting him through his nightmares, compared to petting him like this and watching his breath catch and his face relax at her touch. She did something to him. Having that kind of power over this magnificent man was worth every long, lonely minute of the fog. Maybe it was even worth dying for.
He peeled her shirt off and dragged her bra straps down her arms. When the lace gave up her breasts with a buoyant jiggle, he groaned and lowered his mouth to one mound. At first, he nipped at the pale flesh around her areola with his lips. She panted with the sweet torture and encouraged him toward her nipple. He resisted, that mischievous chuckle of his humming over her skin.
“Please,” she begged.
“Please what?”
“You know what.”
He responded with a wolfish grin. “What, this?” He flicked his tongue and struck the painfully-tight bud.
She gasped, and her whole body tightened.
“Oh, yeah, sweetheart. You like that, don’t you?”
All she could do was whimper.
Finally, he took pity on her. He took her nipple into his mouth and sucked gently. She felt the pull all the way to her womb and nearly came right there. Somehow, she managed to hold on. After a leisurely exploration of one nipple, he turned his attention to the other, and pushed his hand into her panties at the same time. When had her shorts gotten unbuttoned? She didn’t know and didn’t care.
His finger found ground zero, circled it twice, then rubbed directly over it while he suctioned the aching peak of her breast to the hot, hard roof of his mouth. She exploded with a scream.
Her dread of the fog, her loneliness, her fear, it all blew like a volcano, scattering into the atmosphere in tiny bits that couldn’t hurt her anymore.
Her body pulsed with sexual heat while Derek rubbed his cheek against hers and whispered, “That’s my girl. My sweet dream girl. You are so perfect.”
Despite the wonderful little aftershocks of her release, she bristled. He’d said he no longer thought she was imaginary, but those words made her wonder if he truly believed it.
“I’m not perfect,” she said, not caring if she ruined the moment. She refused to let him believe she was some fantasy. “And I’m not a dream. I’m as real as you are.”
“Yes,” he agreed. “You are.”
She breathed a sigh of relief. With that settled, she tangled the fingers of one hand in his hair and tugged his mouth to hers. With her other hand, she tried to divest herself of her panties. She wanted more of him, and she wanted to give him more of herself.
He closed his strong hands around her wrists, stilling her movement. “Which is why this has to stop here.”
Chapter 9
Her heart plunged into her stomach, leaving a trail of hurt all the way down. He didn’t want her. He only wanted to clear his conscience. An orgasm for an orgasm. An ice pack for her knuckles. And now he was done with her.
How stupid she’d been to think those hungry looks had been because he cared for her. She turned her head to hide her hurt. She should slip out from under him and jump off the bed to leave him in peace, but even with her heart deflated and aching, nothing short of him commanding her out of his bed would make her leave before the fog stole her back again. So he didn’t care about her like she cared about him. He was still her only friend.
“Hey,” he said, cupping her face in his warm hand and bringing her gaze back to his. “None of that. I’m not rejecting you.” He combed his fingers through a thick sheet of her hair. “Definitely not rejecting you. It’s just, I don’t even know your name. Before this goes any further, you and I need to do some talking. That’s all.”
She blinked. He was being completely reasonable. She’d just overreacted big time. How embarrassing. She wanted to crawl under the covers and hide, but Derek’s hips pinned her in place. “I’m sorry,” she said, hoping her blush wasn’t as obvious as it felt.
He framed her overly-warm face with his hands. “I don’t want to hear that word out of your mouth again, understand? You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Yes. I did. I’m being too emotional. I
am
sorry. You’re being very sweet and I’m being all–”
He cut her off with a slow, close-lipped kiss. When he’d finished, she couldn’t remember what she’d been about to say. Or what she’d been so embarrassed about. This was Derek. She should never have to feel embarrassed with him. She was his dream girl. And he was her everything.
“Do you remember your name, beautiful?”
She shook her head and reached up to stroke her fingers through the hair at his temple. He leaned into her petting, and she felt him hard against her hip as he braced over her. With her next breath, she arched her back enough to scrape her nipples over the hairs on his chest. Purring at the abrasive sensation, she realized she hadn’t licked that delicious-looking chest yet. She’d definitely have to do that before returning to the fog.
“
Ah-hem
.”
Her gaze snapped back up to his. She had an impulse to apologize for getting distracted, but his grin filled her with confidence. “What were you saying?” she asked with an answering grin.
“Name?”
“Oh, yes. I’ve been thinking of myself as DG, short for dream girl.” She went for brevity and honesty. The quicker she answered his questions, the quicker he’d feel like he knew her well enough to help her out of her panties.
His eyebrows shot up a good inch. Apparently, she’d surprised him, and judging by the amused tilt to his mouth, her answer pleased him as well.
“It’s the closest thing I have to a name,” she added with a shrug.
“Seriously?”
She nodded.
“Do you have an address?”
“Does your address count?”
He gave her a look that said it didn’t. “Phone number, email address, place of employment, driver’s license?” She rocked her head from side to side for each one. “Well, what do you remember?”
That was easy. “The fog. When I’m not here with you, I’m there. That’s it. That’s all I remember.”
“Me and fog.”
She nodded and concentrated on not thinking about how much time she had left before she had to go back there. At least the clock was behind her now. She couldn’t keep torturing herself by checking it every few minutes.
Derek’s eyebrows drew together in concern. “You don’t remember anything–uh, like, anything bad happening?”
“Anything bad? Oh.” He meant, did she remember dying. “No.”
“Well that’s something, right?” he said.
“Yeah,” she said, but she didn’t feel as optimistic about it as he looked.
“Hey.” He kissed her forehead. “Don’t look that way. We’ll figure this out, okay? We’ll figure it out together, and whatever this is, we’ll fix it.”
“Really?”
“Really. And for what it’s worth, you don’t seem…you know, dead to me.”
Hope lifted her spirits, but they crashed down again. Despite what he said, she couldn’t think of any other explanation for this strangeness than her being a ghost. If they figured out what was happening and found a way to
fix
it, she’d have to leave him.
She’d had enough talking. And she’d lost her enthusiasm for anything more. “Why don’t you try to get some sleep? You must be exhausted. I’ll stay as long as I can and keep those nightmares at bay.” She wiggled out from under him, pulled her bra straps back into place, and grabbed her shirt. Forcing a smile, she buttoned up.
Hopefully, he would agree to sleep. He really did need his rest. And she needed some time to distance herself. Their time together would eventually come to an end. The dead didn’t belong with the living.
She should have known he wouldn’t cooperate.
* * * *
“Are you hungry?” Derek asked his dream girl–DG. What a cute name. Until he helped her learn her real name, he’d be more than happy to call her that.