Текст книги "Lost Souls"

Автор книги: Delilah Devlin

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Текущая страница: 7 (всего у книги 15 страниц)

Cait grinned, surprised when his frame shimmered. She blinked and realized her eyes had filled. She swallowed hard against a dry throat.

“Dammit,” he said under his breath, then strode toward her, his arms opening.

She snuggled against his chest. “I’m sorry I hid it.”

“I know.” His hand cupped the back of her head. “But you told me. That’s something, Cait.”

She wrapped her arms around his back and rubbed her hands on his naked skin. “I love you. I’m trying.”

“I know.”

A kiss landed on her temple, and she turned her head toward his mouth, which gently pressed against hers. Arousal swirled in her belly, but she pushed it aside.

He growled. “Better get on with whatever it is you’re making.”

The reason for his surliness was trapped between their bodies, nudging at her belly. She smiled and leaned away. “Won’t take long. There’s a bell jar in the cabinet above the stove.”

“A bell jar?”

“A domed thingie with a handle on top. Need it for the butterfly.”

“That poor thing’s still in the cup?”

“He’ll be fine. The jar?”

With his cock fully erect and bobbing, he padded to the cupboard, which afforded her a very nice view of his back and bottom. Sam’s frame didn’t have an ounce of pudge. Everything was hard, ladders of muscles rippling between his shoulders and down his back as he reached for the jar. His ass made her sigh. Hard, round…

Hard, hard, hard kept repeating in her mind.

He turned and caught her ogling. A dark brow arched over wicked blue eyes. “Thought you were supposed to be naked.”

Well, that specification wasn’t written in her mama’s book, but Cait wasn’t above a little fibbing if it meant Sam would look at her the way she did at him. Her clothes melted away, and she kicked them to a corner. Laundry, she’d worry about later.

Naked as he, she held out her hands for the crystal, then nodded toward the cup. “Uncap the lid, but don’t let him out. Then hold it under the jar.”

She slid the jar across the tabletop, leaving a gap beneath where he held the cup, and slowly slid off the lid. The butterfly flew upward, and she slid the jar to close it against the wooden surface.

“What’s next?” Sam asked.

She quickly combined the saffron and the thickener with the alcohol, stirring with her fingers. The liquid turned a warm honey color.

Then she tilted the jar, slipped her hand beneath the edge, and held her fingers still.

The butterfly landed on a fingertip.

She smiled and glanced at Sam, who was smiling too, but whose furrowed brows indicated he didn’t understand the point of what she was doing.

She fluttered her fingers and the butterfly took flight, wings brushing against her wet fingers. Small specks of green dust were left behind. “That should do it,” she said, easing out her hand and lowering the rim to the table again.

Returning to the chalice, she stirred and stirred, imagining Sylvia Reyes as she’d looked, flicking back her hair and smacking her lips before entering the hotel. The horror in her face as she faded against the yellowed walls of the hallway.

When she finished, she poured the liquid into a vial.

“That’s it?” Sam asked, coming behind her and resting a hand on her shoulder. “No words?”

“The words are meant to be written at the time of summoning the spirit.”

“The butterfly?”

She produced a twig with blossoms she’d snapped off at the butterfly farm. “It’ll be fine until you hand it off to a uniform to deliver.”

“Then you’re done.”

She didn’t complete a nod before he swung her up into his arms and marched to the bedroom.

Laughing, she clung to his broad shoulders. “Did I ever tell you I love it when you go all caveman on me?”

His lips twisted into a smug smile. Then he tossed her onto the sheets.

9

“You’ve been a busy boy,” she murmured, noting he’d already pulled back the covers to the end of the bed. Two pillows were stacked in the center beside her hips. “Should I be worried?”

Sam shook his head, then leaned over her, grabbing her wrists and then wrapping her fingers around the wooden spokes of her Mission headboard.

His expression, so tight and dark, sent a thrill through her. She tightened her fingers and stretched out her body, ready to let him arrange her any way he wanted.

Sam knelt on the mattress and grabbed the pillows, sliding them closer to her hips.

Without a word, she lifted them, giving a little helpless moan as he quickly gripped her and centered her just so.

Then his hands glided over the tops of her thighs, stopping at her knees. He spread them and looked down, his smoldering gaze locking on her intimate flesh. His chest rose with a deep inhalation. His eyelids dipped before he speared her with a challenging glance.

Cait swallowed hard, her body tensing, liquid seeping from inside her. She tried to close her thighs to squeeze away the ache, but his hands settled on her knees and pushed them farther apart.

She opened, cool air brushing her warm, wet sex. An exquisite tension caused her belly and thighs to quiver, intensifying when a ripple tensed Sam’s square jaw as he stared down.

Everything slowed. Her breaths. Her heart. Her thoughts. Like the times when she tossed up crushed herbs and waited with an eagerness that burned through her for the murder of crows to explode into the air.

She waited. At his mercy. Her damp fingers slipping on the spokes.

And then his large palms glided from her knees up her inner thighs. His thumbs parted her. His head bent.

Before his mouth touched her, she rolled her hips and let loose a moan. “Oh God, Sam.”

The tip of his hardened tongue dove inside her, swirling in her depths before slicking upward to flick her burgeoning clit.

Her back bowed, and the tips of her breasts tightened. Deciding his silent command to grip the headboard was more of a suggestion not to interfere with what he was doing, she cupped her small mounds, massaging, giving herself comfort as his clever tongue lapped and spanked and his teeth nibbled away.

“Sam… Sam…”

Two thick fingers entered her, and she squeezed her inner muscles to trap them. Fluid gushed and coated them as they began to plunge inside her, and he continued to torture her clitoris.

Her orgasm erupted, an explosion of painful pleasure—so quickly, she arched and screamed. Her eyelids drifted shut.

His body shifted, climbing over her, his knees bumping her thighs in his haste to be inside her. The moment he thrust forward, her eyes shot open and their gazes locked.

Sam tsked and shook his head, pushing up her hands to rest beside her head. “Can’t seem to obey the rules, sweetheart.”

She’d have answered, but her throat was thick, her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. Her heart outpaced her thoughts, thudding strong against her chest. “Just fuck me, please,” she managed to grit out.

His torso lowered, his hands slipped beneath her, cupping her ass, and he ground into her, deep, barreling thrusts that shook the bed and her to the very core.

Lord, how he filled her. In every way a woman could ask. His size dwarfed her, sinking her body deep into the mattress. His cock stretched her walls, his girth enough all by itself to incite another orgasm, which was quickly overtaking her. He understood her. Loved her despite the fact she thwarted him, lied to him, kept secrets. Despite her many weaknesses.

His face burrowing into her neck, Sam grunted, deep masculine gusts as his chest and belly rubbed against her skin, the fine dark hairs abrading her pebbled nipples.

The fingers cupping her, dug into her fleshy bottom, massaging her, nails dragging on her sensitive skin. She’d have bruises, scrapes, but she didn’t care. His passion was earthy, ardent—an extension of his overwhelming masculinity.

Cait lifted her legs and hugged them around his waist, pushing up her hips to grind against his strokes, heat building inside her as he continued to churn and thrust.

Sam withdrew his hands and leaned on one elbow. Without slowing the rocking of his hips, he slipped the other between their sweat-slicked bodies and burrowed one finger into the top of her folds. “Again.”

Not a question as to whether she could, but a command.

She stared upward, her mouth open as she panted. Her eyelids fluttered, and then she was there, writhing beneath him, coming undone. The pleasure overtook her slowly this time, radiating outward from where he rubbed and circled to shiver through her belly and limbs.

When her agonized cry echoed against the walls, he cursed, rising on his hands to power into her, unrelenting, stretching her orgasm into a glorious explosion of light and sizzling nerve endings.

When at last he shouted and slowed, she hugged him close, wrapping herself around him, squeezing to keep him there inside her, to make the moment last and last.

A kiss grazed her cheek. “You okay?” he murmured softly.

Tired, replete, she smiled, letting her head fall back as her hands roamed his sturdy body. “You killed me.”

“Twice, I think.” His grin was boyish. Beautiful against his strong, harshly etched features.

She bracketed his face with her hands and reached up to kiss his mouth, nuzzling his nose afterward. The scent of her arousal filled her nose. “I’ve never had better, you know.” And that fact was true. As luxuriously sensual as lovemaking with Morin had been, the raw intensity Sam brought to her bed made her tremble.

“You are not thinking about him in this bed,” he growled, lifting himself on one stiff arm.

“Jealous?” A thrill shot through her at his tone. “You shouldn’t be. I chose you.”

Sam gave a sharp shake of his head. “Better sleep. You and I both have to hit the ground running in the morning.”

She hadn’t wanted a reminder of the difficulties ahead, and made a face. “You had to kill the moment.”

His grin was roguish. “I could make you forget again…”

The wicked gleam in his eyes made her laugh. And then his cock twitched inside her, and she knew he wasn’t exaggerating one little bit. She blew a breath into his ear, then whispered, “Round two?”

“Someone should have paid closer attention in math class. The lady can’t count.”

Cait laughed. Her mother wouldn’t have agreed.

Cait wasn’t sure what woke her just before dawn. A tingling feeling that made her want to scratch her skin, but not really a physical thing.

She glanced beside her and smiled. Sam lay on his side, his shoulders broad and as high as a mountain. The urge to rake her fingers through his chest hair was strong, but the tingling persisted. Not that she thought something was wrong—the hairs on the back of her neck didn’t prickle—but something was definitely up.

As quietly as she could manage, she slipped out of the bed, dragged Sam’s white T-shirt over her head, and pulled on a pair of sweatpants. Then she tiptoed from the bedroom, through the living room, her gaze scanning the rooms. Nothing caught her attention. She opened her front door and stepped outside.

Already the sun was rising, with not a cloud in the sky. The air was balmy and would be hot as hell today. She sat on the stoop, her legs stretched out straight to watch the first cars whiz by.

“Finally!”

Cait’s head swiveled toward the voice. Her eyes widened. Beside her, a woman stood with blonde chin-length hair and dressed in a slim gray skirt and gray silk shell. Cait recognized her instantly. Gray-girl had been her first encounter with a ghost when Cait had accidentally barreled right through her on the sidewalk in front of her apartment.

“You do see me!” the woman exclaimed.

“No, I don’t,” Cait said, her voice flat. She didn’t have time for a conversation with a ghost who’d inevitably want something. And just because Cait could see her didn’t mean she owed gray-girl a thing.

“I’m Evelyn.”

“And I’m busy.”

The woman drew closer, eyeing her clothes. “You don’t look like you’re in a hurry to be anywhere.”

“And you do,” Cait said, giving the other woman’s business attire a similar sweep.

“I always do. I wake up, and I’m walking.” She shook her head. “I don’t know where. But I’m always on this street, heading to the trolley.”

Cait sighed. Chatty Cathy wasn’t going away.

“You see me.”

“Do you always repeat yourself?”

“No need to be rude,” the woman said, frowning. “I just can’t get over it. It’s been… I don’t know how long. Anyway, no one has ever seen me before.”

“Don’t you see other ghosts?”

She shook her head. “They don’t count. They have so many problems. If I stop to say hello, I get the whole story about how they passed, who they’re haunting. It gets tedious.”

“I can’t imagine,” Cait drawled.

“I saw you with a man the last time. You left together. Is he your husband?”

“My ex.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “And you still sleep with him? Isn’t that awkward?”

“Not a bit. We both like sex.”

The woman’s cheeks blushed. “I would never sleep with a man if I wasn’t married to him. Not even if I had been married to him.”

Cait felt a lecture on sinning coming and pushed off the step. “Look, it’s been nice chatting.”

The woman reached out to grab her forearm, but her hand passed right through. “But you can’t go. You see me.”

“So you’ve said three times now.”

The woman’s head dropped but then lifted again. A small, sad smile curved her pretty mouth. “I’m sorry to have bothered you.”

Guilt settled like a heavy stone in Cait’s stomach. The ghost was obviously lonely and confused. “Look, this is where I live. You’re welcome to bother me again the next time you see me.”

Gratitude shone in Evelyn’s soft gray-blue eyes. “I’d like that.”

Cait tilted her head to look into Evelyn’s face. “So, how did you pass?”

A slight frown wrinkled the woman’s smooth forehead. “I don’t like to think about it. If I don’t for a long, long while, I forget the details. And the memory’s not quite as painful.”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to bring you down.”

“You didn’t. You can see me,” she said, one side of her mouth quirking up. “Well, I have to go.” She lifted her arm to check the slender silver watch on her wrist. “I have to catch the trolley.”

As the woman set off at a brisk pace, Cait shook her head. Another mystery left on her doorstep. Literally. But she didn’t have time now to pursue it. And she didn’t know what she’d do with the knowledge if she ever figured it out. Seeing the dead seemed to bring a wagonload of unseen responsibilities. Ones she simply couldn’t ignore or she’d be forever wakening, itching with a feeling of something left undone. Which reminded her, she couldn’t forget about retrieving Gladys Digby.

She went back inside, made a quick pot of coffee, and headed to the shower. Wouldn’t Jason be shocked to see her dressed and ready to go? Glancing toward the bed, she found Sam watching her.

“Where were you?” he asked, then gave an enormous yawn.

“I stepped outside for some fresh air. Didn’t want to wake you.”

Eyebrow quirked, he patted the mattress.

But she shook her head. “We both know where that will lead.”

He rolled to his back and put his hands behind his head. The movement edged away the sheet, revealing more of his stunningly ripped torso and the top of his dark, happy trail.

When her glance slid back to his face, she spotted a self-satisfied smile rimming his mouth.

“We could conserve,” he murmured.

She arched a brow, and her pulse beat faster. “As in share the shower?”

“I’ll wash your back.”

“I’ve got some other places that might need a little soap.” Desire swirled in her belly.

He whipped back the sheet to reveal his erection. Long, heavy, and pulsing against his well-toned belly.

“Well, color me green,” she murmured. With Sam a step behind her all the way, Cait figured Jason would just have to wait. Wasn’t like he wasn’t used to it.

“What are you so happy about?”

As Leland’s loud bark drew every gaze in the murder room, Sam flinched. He leaned back in his swivel chair and cleared his face. The last thing he’d admit was that he’d been smiling at the image of Cait in a ponytail hopping through a greenhouse after a butterfly. “Just waiting for uniforms to bring in Reyes for questioning. Should be here any minute.”

“Stopped to tell you dogs and sonar are at the hotel now.” Leland rubbed the back of his neck. “Really think we’ll find more bodies?”

“We found a license from a woman who’s been missing for decades. We’ll find something.”

Leland dropped his hand. “Damn strange. I’ve gone years without having anything this fucking weird happen, and now twice in one year. Your ex-wife attracts some crazy shit.”

Sam gave Leland a quelling stare, but Leland didn’t appear to notice.

His chin tipped to the doorway. “Think your witness just arrived. Better get through the interview, and then back over to the hotel. No tellin’ what they’re gonna find, and I want a lid kept on it. Tighten it down.” His fist clenched at his side. “Can’t have word leakin’ out and every nut-job news rag descending. Might not be as easy to explain away as the last one.”

Sam eased out of his chair. “Want to sit in on this one?”

“Nah, but I’ll watch from behind the glass. Have to make sure no one comes in anyway. Too many details get around, your rep’ll be toast.”

Like Cait’s had been when rumors spread she had taken her full-moon cases a little too much to heart and started believing some of what she investigated.

Sam didn’t really give a flip about what the others thought but understood the need to keep a professional gloss on everything he did. Respect allowed him freedom from prying eyes, gave him the ability to come and go without a lot of questions. Discretion was key to getting the job done.

Sliding into a chair across from Oscar Reyes in the interrogation room, Sam summed up the man in a single glance—a thug with a temper. He flipped open a thick file, crammed with details about the man’s previous arrests. “I see you’ve had scrapes with the law before.”

Oscar’s gaze was dark, flat, soulless. “In my youth. I’m a respectable businessman now. I pay my taxes.” He glanced at the door. “Is this gonna take long? I have things to do.”

“Sir, your wife’s dead.”

“Ain’t that a damn shame,” Oscar said, his narrow pig-eyes widening. “I cried myself to sleep last night, but hey, life goes on.”

“Not for Sylvia.” Sam shook his head in disgust.

“She was a whore. I tried to rescue her from that life, gave her a good home.” His hand flattened on the table. “But I guess some habits are hard to break.”

“So, you believe your wife was seeing another man?”

“Yeah, got the proof on her computer. Had a couple of PIs follow her around. They can vouch for the fact the puta was steppin’ out.”

Sam aimed a deadly glare at the man.

Oscar’s lips pursed, and he leaned forward, clasping his hands in front of him. “I don’t mean to speak ill of the dead, but I gotta cope somehow. Better anger than grief, eh?”

Sam kept his expression neutral, although the effort caused him heartburn. “Have you ever been to the Deluxe Hotel?”

Oscar pushed out his lips. “Not that I can recall.”

Pulling a printout from the folder in front of him, Sam snorted. “Then can you explain how your credit card got charged for beers there on multiple occasions?”

“Don’t know.” Oscar’s gaze hardened. “Syl musta took my card.”

“Sylvia didn’t appear to drink beer. Her card shows charges at various restaurants and bars for mixed drinks. Why would she order only beer at the Deluxe?”

Oscar’s lips turned down, and he lifted his hands. “Not a clue. Maybe she was buyin’ her boyfriend drinks.”

“If I show the bartenders your picture, will they recognize you, Mr. Reyes?”

At last, Oscar twitched. Sweat broke out on his forehead, but he still tried to brazen out the situation. “Maybe I have been there a time or two. A business meeting, maybe.”

“A meeting where you made arrangements for a man to seduce your wife?” Sam stared hard, waiting for Oscar to betray himself by expression or action.

Oscar’s jaw ground shut. “We’re through talkin’ without my lawyer.”

And the conversation ends. Sam closed the folder and smiled. “That’s all right, Mr. Reyes. You get that lawyer ready. I’ll have more questions after I’ve done some more digging around.”

Oscar heaved up from the table, shot Sam a glance that looked panicked and furious all at once, and charged out of the room.

Leland was waiting in the hallway, his hands planted on his hips. “Sure you shoulda tipped your hand so soon that we think he’s involved?”

“Doesn’t matter. Reyes knows enough to be good and scared. He knows we’re on to him.” His finger tapped the folder. “I’ll bet money he’s heading straight to the boyfriend to warn him.”

“I’ll have a detective tail him. See where he ends up.”

Sam nodded. “I’m heading to the hotel. I don’t like Cait there on her own.”

“Me neither. Something hinky’s sure to happen.” Leland’s eyebrows lowered ominously. “Make sure the place doesn’t get blown up.”