Wild Men of Alaska Collection - By Helmer, Tiffinie Page 0,89

real. She struggled to her feet, pinching herself even though she had no desire to wake up and leave.

Where was she?

“Limbo. And how the hell did you get here?”

Slowly she turned. There was Lucky in full Technicolor. A tight-fitting t-shirt with some climbing gear company’s symbol scrawled across the chest showed off heavy, defined muscles in his torso and arms. He was lean and hard, his skin smooth and golden, his eyes the softest brown. Cargo shorts and hiking boots completed his outfit. Is this how he was dressed when he visited her? The man was a walking advertisement for REI.

“Gemma, what did you do?” A scowl darkened his face.

“Took a sleeping pill,” she admitted, her eyes devouring the sight of him.

There was a pause. “Sleeping pill or pills?”

“My mom gave them to me. I just took one and ended up here.” She looked around again. “Got any ideas how that happened?”

He pursed his lips in thought, the scowl furrowing deep lines in his forehead.

“What is it? You know, don’t you?”

“I have a theory.”

“I’m not dead, too, am I?”

“No. You and I are connected. Destined.” He rushed on when she went to interrupt. “I know you don’t like that word, but it’s the only explanation for why, after I passed away, that I was drawn to you. I’m thinking taking a sleeping pill allowed your spirit to astral project to where it wants to be. To me.”

Astral project?

Hadn’t she been warned about that? What had Siri said? Gemma had the sneaky suspicion she was in trouble.

“What are you thinking?” Lucky asked, looking as though he wanted to reach out and touch her but was afraid to move.

“You can’t read my thoughts?”

“You’re doing that mile a minute thing, but your expression is freaking me out.”

“Well, I’m a little freaked.”

“That explains it then.” He stuffed his hands in the front pockets of his cargo shorts. She followed the movement, and his eyes widened. “Can you see me?”

“Yes.” Her throat thickened with emotion. This was so much more real, being with him here, seeing him. She reached out to touch him, and he sucked in his breath.

Softly her fingers traced the bones in his face. His eyes shuttered closed on a groan. “Gemma, tell me you can feel me too.”

“Yes,” she whispered. “It’s as though you’re really here with me. Alive.” She cupped his jaw, the stubble raspy against her fingers, and placed her other hand on his chest. Unbelievably, his heart pounded fast under her palm. His skin was hot like he had an internal sun heating him from the inside out.

Slowly he grasped her shoulders. “Let me—I have to—” His mouth was on hers, kissing her, plundering, groaning as he yanked her into his arms. She melted into him. All of her soft curves linked with his hard angles, like puzzle pieces always meant to be together.

“Gemma,” he moaned. “Please, I need—”

“Yes, I need too,” she rushed to finish for him.

“Are you sure?” Warm rich brown eyes stared into hers.

“God, yes.”

“I don’t know how much foreplay—”

“No foreplay.” She flipped the button free on his shorts, besides who knew what kind of time they had together? “We’ve had weeks of foreplay.” She slid his zipper down. “I need to see you. Really see you. All of you. Now.”

In a flurry, he stripped off his clothes.

Her eyelids threatened to close from the sheer beauty of this man, but she forced them to stay open, not wanting to miss a minute of viewing his body.

There wasn’t an ounce of fat on him. She’d guessed this from feeling him in her dreams, and dancing with him the night before. But in the flesh he was magnificent. Worship worthy. Muscles corded and hardened every inch of his skin. His upper body bunched as though he could easily shoulder the weight of the world, angling down to a solid waist with muscles defined in a way she’d never seen illustrated outside of a book. Her eyes traveled lower, hoping the promise of his torso extended to other parts as well.

A choking sound came from him, and too late she remembered he could read her thoughts when they weren’t jumbled. They weren’t jumbled now. Call it a one track mind. She had it. Regardless of the blush heating her face, she had to look, and then stared. Her mouth fell open in a silent “O”.

His penis jutted out from the V-line of his groin, proud and unapologetic of its size and thickness. He flexed the muscles of his