Friday, March 8, 2013

Secrets of the Dead Chpt 14

Chapter 14

Her force still in control of his hand, C.J. lifted curious eyes. “Save you? From what?” His hand moved again as she controlled what he wrote.

From him.

“Your father?” His hand moved quickly to write Yes.

“Are you afraid of him?” Once again his hand moved as she wrote No. He was confused now. “I don’t understand

Andrea.” His hand moved quickly to write He wants you dead.

The angry cold wind stirred around him, stinging his cheeks and with a jolt, shocking his system, Andrea withdrew herself from him and vanished. And just as quickly as the wind had come up, it dissipated. Lifting his hand, giving it a shake, hating the tingling sensation he always felt after an encounter, he tried to make sense of what she had been trying to tell him.

Who did she mean for him to save and what had she meant by her father wanting him dead? He hadn’t done anything to warrant an entity taking vengeance on him. He had the written words of the dead in front of him yet he was as clueless as if he knew nothing.

This whole ordeal was becoming more bizarre by the minute.

“I’m going to bed,” Jessie announced as she stomped past him, moving through the room.

Shaking himself free of the ordeal he had just endured, his head lifted to Jessie. “Alone?” he inquired, still miffed at her. The ghostly encounter hadn’t rid him of the hurt, or the revelation that he was good enough for a quick fuck but nothing more.

“Yes.” Her head held high, she took the steps toward her room.

“Hope you enjoy company, because I have a feeling he’s going to be in a mood tonight.” Okay, that might have been uncalled for, but he wasn’t feeling exactly kind at the moment.

Pulling out a cigarette, his system still unsettled, he flicked the lighter on as the bedroom door slammed shut.

Grabbing his ashtray, he made his rounds, checking his instruments and making sure everything was running.

Taking one of the digital thermometers, and a camera, he headed up the stairs. Grabbing a pillow and blanket from his room, he set up beside Jessica’s door, and made himself as comfortable as possible. It was going to be a long night.

When the bedroom door opened and Jessie stepped out in a t-shirt and white cotton underwear, he nearly swallowed his tongue.

“What the hell are you doing?” Her arms crossed over her chest, she glared at him.

“Protecting you.” Though, seeing her standing a mere two feet from where he sat, he wanted to do more to her than protect her. That was, he would if he wasn’t angry with her.

“I don’t need your protection, Dowling.”

“Fine, I’m not protecting you, Jessica, I’m doing research. And look, the temperature dropped several degrees the instant you opened your mouth.” He held the thermometer up; though it didn’t show a drop in temperature, he could tell that his snide comment hit the mark by the shocked expression on her face. . He rather liked the way her eyes narrowed and got darker when she was angry.

“You know where you can shove that damn thermometer, Dowling,” she countered, her teeth grinding.

He stood now, simply to look her in the eyes. “No,

Jessica, why don’t you tell me where you would like to shove it.”

“Oh, I think you have enough of a creative mind to know where I would shove it.” They stood toe to toe, both too stubborn to back off.

 “You don’t have the nerve.” He dared her, lifting the thermometer in her face.

Her eyes narrowed, never leaving his. “Oh, I have the nerve, pal.” She grabbed hold of his hand.

“Prove it.”

Her hand clasped onto his just a bit tighter. He loved the wicked look in her eyes. She gasped when he yanked her towards him, colliding with his firm chest.

Dropping the thermometer, his hands came up to frame her face. The instant their lips touched, the passion exploded. He backed her into the room, kicking the door shut in the process, fighting with the t-shirt she wore, trying to get it over her head while he still clung to her lips. Not wanting to release her mouth, he gave up and went for her underwear instead.

Clawing at the snaps on his jeans, Jessie yanked them below his hips, then shoved his boxers down. With both hands, she grabbed hold of his firm tight ass and pulled him against her.

Kicking his legs frantically, he managed to free himself of his clothing, nearly stumbling in the process.

When she hoisted herself up, wrapping her legs around his waist, he didn’t waste any time and shoved her down on the bed. He took hold of her hands, yanking them over her head and when she lifted her hips higher, he plunged.

Greedy to take, eager to have, they moved in perfect

rhythm. He released her hands so his could roam over her body, arousing already hard nipples. She scraped short nails along his back, making him shiver with delight. He took her mouth as the climax spiked through them and didn’t release her until their quivering subsided.

“For the record, I’m still angry at you,” she panted.

“Same goes darling.” But he lifted his head with a smile. “Damn.”

“Yeah. Who would have thought angry sex could be so good.” She chuckled lightly.

 “You want me to leave or can I crash here? Because quite frankly, I don’t know if my legs will work.”

“You can stay, but let me clarify something first.

What I meant earlier, before you interrupted and jumped to your own conclusion…”

“Darling, I didn’t have far to jump.” He stroked the damp hair from her face.

Her eyes narrowed. “Shut up for once, Dowling. What

I was going to say was that I don’t normally have sex with men I hardly know…”

“We’ve known each other for close to five years,


Her eyes widened in frustration. “Shut up. Fine, I don’t normally fuck men I don’t date for a few weeks first.

How’s that?”

“Crude, but I get the point. So…being drunk you lose all reasoning and let your body go. Interesting.” He collapsed beside her, drawing her into him and curling his arm around her. “Looks like the place is still standing.”

“Looks like.”

“I could go check the rest of the house.” He probably should, if his legs worked that was.

“Nah, we’ll find out in the morning.” Curling onto her side, she closed her eyes and drew in his scent. “Why do you always smell so good?”

“It’s called hygiene, darling.”

She grunted. “You’re such a jerk.”

Smiling, he kissed her head. “Good night, Jessica.”

“’night, Dowling.”

C.J. waited until he was sure she was fast asleep before he slipped from the bed. He wanted this recorded and grabbed his thermometer and the mini-cam he’d set out in the hallway. Sitting on the edge of the bed, clicking the camera on, setting the thermometer beside him, he spoke. “Pisses you off that I can have her and you can’t, doesn’t it?”

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