Wild Men of Alaska Collection - By Helmer, Tiffinie Page 0,66
fingers dived into the softest, silkiest hair. She had a picture of sun-bleached wavy strains left too long without a trim.
This was different. More interactive.
He groaned. The sound vibrated throughout her like a plucked guitar string. “Yes, touch me,” he said. “It’s been so long since someone has touched me.”
She could feel him, hear him. He was more than just a sensation this time. “How is this possible?”
“Don’t question. Just do.”
“Who are you?” Please don’t say Dreamweaver.
“Lucky.”
What did that mean?
His hand, large and calloused cupped her bare breast and her nipple pebbled, stealing her breath. How was he doing this? And was she naked again?
“Yes.” There was a smile in his voice as he switched attention from one nipple to the other.
“Okay, how?” Did she really even care as his clear expertise in seduction ratcheted up her need for him?
“That’s a loaded question, Gemma.” His lips traveled lower over her collarbone.
“I need some answers.” Boy, did she ever. And quickly, before her mind gave up and let her body embrace the sensations he enticed her with.
“I know. But could we just...enjoy each other first?”
He did have a point. A very impressive point.
“Why thank you.”
“Are you reading my mind?”
“Sorry, bad habit I’ve recently gotten into.” His lips traveled to her breasts, and one rogue hand ventured lower. Much lower. Any articulate thought evaporated.
He gave a husky laugh. “Good to know.”
He went to church, worshipping, lavishing her nipples while his fingers teased and tormented until everything inside her melted with wanting. Why was he doing this to her?
“Because you’re the one.”
“The one what?” She needed to stay coherent, present, and not drift with him.
“Not what. Who. You and I were meant for each other, Gemma.”
“How do you mean?” A shiver of unease intruded.
“You were my future.”
“What do you mean ‘were’?”
“We are destined, Gemma.” His mouth traveled lower, and she started to see stars.
“Wait...what?”
“Do you really want me to stop and explain?”
Nooo. Yes.
She didn’t know what she wanted. She wanted him. Wanted to be filled, consumed, and thoroughly loved by him.
“I’m here willing to do it all, babe.”
Babe?
“Gemma,” he rushed to cover.
Had that been a slip? Most men called women ‘babe’ as a cover because they couldn’t remember the woman’s name. “How many other women do you visit?”
“There is only you.” There was a long pause. “But to be honest, there have been many. Before.”
“Before what?”
“Before I...died.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Gemma rushed to let Tern inside the bookstore. They had an hour before anyone would be reporting to work, and before the store was scheduled to open.
“I stopped and picked up cinnamon rolls from Bun on the Run.” Tern held up a bag. “Not that the café food isn’t great, but I’m sure you get tired of it.”
“Bless you.” Gemma relocked the door and led the way to a little bistro table in the back of the café. If people saw them from the large plate-glass windows, there would be knocking and begging for her to open early. Coffee goers were a wired group, as she was learning herself. Never had she been this agitated. When this “situation” was over with, and she cut back on her consumption, the caffeine withdrawals were bound to be legendary.
But that wasn’t today, and she needed the hit, feeling more zombie than human. Gemma veered toward the café to pour mountainous cups of coffee, adding a few too many shots of espresso to hers. Getting through today was going to be an experience.
“So, tell me what happened last night? You didn’t sleep, did you?”
Gemma placed their coffees down on the table and sat. “Uh...some.” Not that it was enough sleep to count since she’d been participating in other activities at the time.
“Did your Dreamweaver visit?”
“Yes.”
“Gemma!”
“I tried to stay awake. I really did, but after two in the morning, I gave it up.” Thinking she was crazy to be afraid of going to sleep. Boy, had she been proved wrong.
“So what happened?”
Gemma’s face heated. “Okay, first off—I feel nuts for talking about this—but, Tern, you have to understand. He is really sexy and really adept at seduction.”
“How far? Was there inter—”
“No.” But it had been close. So close.
“Did you get his name?”
“No.” What did Tern think of her? She sounded so easy to her own ears. Some random guy, spirit, or whatever, shows up and puts the moves on her, and she just lays there and takes it. Participates, even.
“Gemma, if he shows up again you have to get his name. There is power in a name.”