Kiss And Dwell (8 page)

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Authors: Kelley St. John

Tags: #Sexth Sense

BOOK: Kiss And Dwell
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Regardless of the fact that he had no intention of going, he still wouldn

t mind
sharing a span of time with Monique
Vicknair
. Even better, she wanted the same
thing.

Adeline
Vicknair
had told him that he would share a bond with his medium, as
soon as that medium accepted Ryan

s assignment. But he hadn

t expected that tie

to be so strong, so intense, so sexual.

He

d felt Monique the minute she opened the envelope, sensed her irritation at
having her evening cut short, as well as her reluctance towards helping any
spirits. But he

d also detected a hint of excitement, of a certain inner pride
at her family

s responsibility. True, she didn

t like having to heed a spirit

s
call, but she reveled in the power to help in crossings. Whether she admitted it
to the rest of the world or not, she couldn

t deny it to Ryan. It was a powerful
emotion. So powerful, in fact, that it almost seemed his own. Almost. This

bonding

that they shared was going to take some getting used to, particularly
with Monique

s emotions so exceptionally strong, so potent and mesmerizing.

And when he entered the room, he also recognized another powerful sensation
emanating vigorously from the sexy female. Lust. Toward him.

Unfortunately, Adeline
Vicknair
had also told him about the rules for mediums.

Monique

s arched blond brows drew together and her sweet little mouth opened and
closed for the second time as she tried to determine how to respond to his
declaration that he wouldn

t cross over. This should be good. Obviously she
hadn

t met any ghosts who liked their in-between status; then again, she hadn

t
met him.

He liked his life the way it was, and if she thought she was going to change
that, she

d better think again. He

d tried to explain things to Adeline, but the
sweet older lady wouldn

t take no for an answer, and she seemed to believe she
had the

perfect grandchild

to help him out. Well, no doubt about it, Monique
was perfect physically; however, if she expected to change his mind about
heading toward the light, she was about to be disappointed. Sure, he might have
stopped breathing fourteen months ago, but he hadn

t stopped living, and he
didn

t plan to now.

He was having way too much fun.


You don

t want to cross over?

she finally asked, her eyes, like green-gold
marbles, wide at the realization.


No, ma

am,

he said, laying on the accent that had charmed a throng of dreamers
thicker than sorghum syrup. An audible gasp escaped her exquisite lips, and Ryan
smiled. Monique
Vicknair
wasn

t immune to Southern charm.

Good to know.

Her mouth quirked to the side as she seemed to process the facts. She took a
deep breath. The action caused her already-tight dress to stretch even more
across two beautifully high breasts, and from the firm little points pushing
forward, she was either very cold or very excited—or, perhaps, both. Then she
shivered, and Ryan

s protective nature took over. You could take the guy out of
the South, but you couldn

t take the Southern manners out of the guy, or so his
Aunt Elsa used to say.


Obviously you were out in the rain,

he said, reaching for a lush pink-and-sage
throw folded neatly across a nearby chair.

How did you get so drenched? And why
didn

t you get out of your wet clothes?

He leaned toward her and draped the
fuzzy cloth down the length of her body, cloaking those tempting nipples, that
flat stomach and all that silky smooth skin.

Ryan

s groin tightened. She really was exceptional.

Her hands gripped the top edge of the blanket, holding it against her chest
while she hummed her contentment.

Ryan let the lower edge drop from his hands to rest against her legs. It was too
short to cover her bare feet, and her red toenails and diamond toe ring stood
out in stark contrast to the gleaming honey-toned floor. He frowned.

You didn

t
have shoes?


I was hot.

It

d have been so easy to ignore the innuendo behind the three little words, but
Ryan wasn

t into skipping out on fun. He moved his attention from her feet, and
from wondering what it

d be like to kiss each of her toes, to her face. Then he
scooted toward her on the settee and took quite a bit of pleasure in the way her
throat pulsed in response. She may have been cold, but she was damn well
excited, too. He could feel it so clearly, and that tantalizing knowledge
brought his desire to near-combustible status.


Trust me, Monique
Vicknair
, you

re still hot,

he said, and watched a red flush
that nearly matched the bright hue of her dress tinge her cheeks.


No,

she said, visibly swallowing.

I meant that I was hot from my
grandmother

s summons, and my feet burned too much in my shoes.

She looked at
him as though waiting for a bounty of questions regarding her statement, but
Ryan only had one.


You were hot for me?

he asked, inching one brow up.

Ms.
Vicknair
, you hadn

t
even met me yet.

He gave her an easy grin.

I knew I made a decent impression,
but I had no idea I was that good.

She gave him an incredulous look that was downright adorable.

You have to be
the cockiest ghost I

ve ever met, Mr.
Chappelle
,

she said, matching his formal
salutation and teasing his senses with the way that sweet mouth said his name.


I prefer confident, ma

am,

he said with a wink,

but cocky will do.

The tension in her body eased, and he could tell that Monique
Vicknair
was

growing more and more accustomed to having him here, to having him near. Good,
because he enjoyed being near Monique, and he planned on getting much, much
nearer if she wanted. Judging from the way her body responded just to his
suggestive teasing, and from her earlier proclamation that she really needed a
good bout of sex, Ryan figured it was definitely what she wanted, even if she
wasn

t quite ready to take what she wanted…yet.

No problem. Ryan
Chappelle
was a patient man.

She laughed softly.

You realize that

s the second time you

ve called me that.


Called you what?

he asked.


Ma

am. Around here, that

s typically something kids call the elderly, or at
least someone older than twenty-four. It

s not something anyone

s ever said to
me before,

she admitted.


So, you

re twenty-four,

he said, nodding.

I

m twenty-eight, or four in dog
years.

Her responding laugh was exactly what he was hoping for. Monique
Vicknair
was becoming more relaxed around him, a ghost with a passion for
pleasing women and an even stronger desire, at least for the moment, for
learning what it took to please this particular female.

And for the record,
where I come from, ma

am is a term of endearment.

He edged forward and ran a
finger down the cool curved handle of a silver teapot, placed to one side of an
elegant tea service in the center of the coffee table.

So,

he said,

are you
going to ask me?


Ask you?


Where I

m from?

A loud clap of thunder caused her to jump and reminded Ryan that the storm still
churned outside, while another equally potent storm also raged within Monique
.

She wanted to know more about him, but she wasn

t about to ask.

Monique doesn

t want to know any details, Adeline had said. She tries not to get
too close to spirits, doesn

t want to get attached, the lady had explained, then
she added, It isn

t anything personal.

But it was personal, because Monique

s determination to keep herself at a
distance was exactly the kind of thing that had been missing in Ryan

s current
lifestyle, or
deathstyle
, as the case may be.

A challenge.


I don

t need to know where you

re from,

she said matter-of-factly. Then she
scooted up on the settee, and the action made the papers balanced on the armrest
fall to the floor. Monique dropped one edge of the blanket to reach for them,
which exposed one breast, still very excited, from the look of things. His
attention moved to the full globe pushing against the clingy red fabric of her
dress. Was that hard little point pink? Blush? Cinnamon? And would he find out?


I

ll get them,

he said, moving in front of her to gather the sheets of paper
from the floor. When she reached for them, he didn

t release his hold. Instead,
he looked at Monique, saw the way her eyes smoldered and knew that, unless he
was reading her totally wrong, he would definitely find out the color of those
perfect points, maybe not tonight, but soon. Unfortunately, unless he was
reading her totally wrong, he also saw more in her eyes. He saw hope. And he
wasn

t about to mislead Monique
Vicknair
.


I

m not crossing over,

he said, releasing the papers.

I don

t want you to
think that you can fix things for me, because in all honesty, nothing

s broken
.

However, if you want to spend some time together, I

m more than interested.

She blinked, glanced at her grandmother

s letter.

Why don

t you want to cross?
And why haven

t you crossed already?

Shaking her head, she added,

I really
don

t understand.


It isn

t so bad in the middle. It

s pretty damn good, in fact,

he said,
smiling. Truth was, he

d worked too hard to get the most out of life early on,
to keep from making the same mistake as his parents made. But then…the accident
.

He swallowed, determined not to think about it. Now he was making the most of
his current situation, enjoying the fact that he hadn

t crossed over and
enjoying even more the fact that he could still please women. Right now, he very
much wanted to embrace that ability with Monique.


So why are you here?

she asked.

Ryan had no choice but to give her the truth; ghosts couldn

t lie.

Adeline
.

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