Intimate Whispers Page 4

  Her scent wafted to him and he realized she’d moved closer. Not just closer.

  Electricity crackled in the sparse places they didn’t quite touch. Very few places.

  Sabrina wedged herself between his legs, her body sliding against his with casual ease. The gap in her robe widened even farther, exposing a smooth, soft belly. A delicate indentation he wanted to dip his tongue inside nestled farther down in the middle. Below there he didn’t dare look. Not yet.

  “What—” What are you doing, he almost asked, but held his tongue. He knew exactly what she was doing. Hazy eyes, parted lips, suggestive proximity all exposed her intentions. Somewhere between his brain and his mouth, a short-circuit deliberately made certain he didn’t put an end to it.

  Her breath fanned against his skin, tickled along his neck and he opened himself to it. Encouraged her lips to touch down and press delicate kisses. His jaw tightened, his fingers gripping on to the stool beneath him with a determination of a man on the edge of the Earth, ready to tumble over.

  He wanted this woman. Wanted her naked beneath him. Wanted to plunge himself into her wetness until they were both spent and satisfied and desperate for more. And by some mercy, she wanted him too.

  Sculpted nails scraped along his chest, leaving trails of tiny red wheals behind. He didn’t know at what point they’d managed to start the process of discarding his shirt, but the plunk of buttons hitting the floor meant they still worked together on freeing him. His chest would be bare soon, if he had anything to do with it, his lower half to follow suit. He knew damn good and well already she wore nothing beneath the robe.

  But he wanted to kiss her first. He needed to taste her. Feel her lips move along his.

  Make love to her mouth with his tongue. Taste. Feast. Fill this hunger.

  His mind was a whir of thoughts. Of desires. Each one sifting and battling for supremacy. Lust edging out, leading the way.

  Wait…no. They couldn’t…

  Thoughts that should have been foremost. Images of why they were here in the first place rushed him.

  His brother. Teddy.

  They had to…

  Automatic writing. Sabrina.

  Possession.

  “Sabrina.” Her name came out on a gasp, his hands clamoring for a hold on her shoulders. Wrenching her away. “Sabrina, wait. Look at me!” he roared when she persisted. His voice dropped low, soft after she stopped struggling. “Look at me.” 24

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  His reflection appeared in her dilated pupils. He should have asked more questions. He shouldn’t have insisted they try this.

  “Sabrina.”

  She licked her moist lips before biting down on one. “You have the most incredible eyes, you know,” she said on a sigh.

  Damn it. “Sabrina, it’s me. Jason. Your neighbor.” He studied her face for any sign of recognition and found none. “Do you remember me? What we’re doing here?” A spark of life ignited behind her blank stare. “Jason?”

  “Jason Raines. I live in 4B. Who are you?” His heart trickled to its normal pace, his dick slowly deflating. Whatever happened in the past few minutes had never been meant to be. Not like this.

  “Sabrina Turner.” She blinked slowly, her pupils returning to little pinpricks until the beautiful hazel color reflected once again. “And I’m…so…incredibly stupid.” Jason reached forward and pulled tight the lapels of her robe, holding it closed until she could refasten the belt around her waist. They worked together in silence, neither looking at the other. “What happened there?”

  “Another hazard of who I am,” she said dismissively. She withdrew from his embrace, keeping a few feet separating them now.

  He shrugged what remained of his shirt back into place, wanting with every cell in his body to question her more, but now that his senses had returned, he remembered their purpose together. “Did it work?” he asked when he gave up the search for the missing buttons.

  Sabrina looked up sharply. She bent and retrieved the fallen papers from the floor with a strangling grip. Her eyes didn’t meet his when she shoved them in his direction.

  “If your brother came tonight, his message will be somewhere in here. Take this and go.”

  Go? They had a lot to talk about. His brother…their actions. “Sabrina.” Palpable disdain rolled off her. Whatever thoughts she harbored did not paint him in a good light.

  Sabrina walked to the front door and threw it open. Hand on hip, she stood in the open doorway and announced, “Go, Jason. Consider us even.”

  * * * * *

  Sabrina gave up on sleep when the sun crested the horizon.

  Just had to contact the dead, didn’t she? Just had to speak with one of them mere hours after He’d relieved her of their voices. For what? Because a handsome man helped her out when she needed it?

  The hours prior to Jason’s arrival had taken their toll. She’d been weak, physically and mentally, and that had been all the spirit needed to step in and take over for a few 25

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  minutes. Trapped, she watched her own body betray her by kissing Jason. Touching him. After a while, she didn’t know whether it was the spirit doing those things or her.

  Stupid horny spirit.

  Stupid horny her.

  Morning ablutions out of the way, she set about looking for something to eat.

  Saturday mornings were meant for biscuits and gravy, but the thought of cooking for one—again—didn’t sit well with her today.

  Of course, she could make some and do the neighborly thing…

  Oh, for Christ’s sake, get a hold of yourself. If since he’d first moved in two months ago she hadn’t tried to jump his bones, why all of a sudden did she feel the need to explore the inside of Jason’s bedroom now? Well, the reticence might have something to do with his blonde girlfriend whom Sabrina had conveniently forgotten last night.

  Sabrina let out a deep sigh. She had more than enough troubles in her life. The last time she’d tried to establish a relationship, things didn’t go well. He hadn’t taken too kindly to it either, leaving her to suffer with the voices for enough time to almost make her insane.

  Three loud raps amplified through the front door.

  “What now?” she mumbled.

  Except she thought she knew. Opening the door to find Jason standing there confirmed her suspicions.

  “Good morning.” He looked her in the eyes, any embarrassment about last night vanished with the new day.

  She pursed her lips, folded her arms over her chest and leaned against the doorjamb. “Morning.”

  “I was wondering—”

  “I thought we agreed we’re even.”

  “You shoved me out of here so fast last night I didn’t get to find out what we’re even for.”

  She tried hard not to stare at the way his black t-shirt molded against his torso, outlining a lean shape. She’d gotten to know that chest up close and personal last night.

  A quick glance verified formfitting jeans, with his perfect-sized package tucked neatly into the crotch. Last night, what he wore didn’t seem capable of restraining his erection, a nice addition to their play. So used to His touch, she’d forgotten the feel of a flesh-and-blood man beneath her hands, but Jason rushed the memory back.

  “You should leave.”

  “I still need your help.” He raised a white, grease-stained bag in the air. “And I even brought breakfast for sustenance.”

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  The smell of something fried and decidedly unhealthy rose into the air and her traitorous stomach growled in appreciation. Yes, it must have been far too long without a real man because she found herself considering his offer although it made no sense.

  No. It made lots of sense.

  Forget being hungry, who besides Jason offered her company after seeing what one of her episodes looked like? Even without her ability, she had a feeling he would have continued to be nice to her. He was just one of those gu
ys. Nice for no particular reason.

  Then again, all the more reason to stay away.

  “I trust you’ll keep our secret, Jason,” she said and started to back away. The door slid closed on quiet hinges, once more cutting her off from the outside world.

  “Wait!” Jason’s hand shot forward, stopping the door partway. “I can’t decipher this all and you’re in here. Your name is on this page.”

  “What?” That got her attention. The dead never had anything to say about her. To her, yes, but never about her.

  His mouth quirked up in a smile. He shook the bag at her. “So, can I come in?” Turning on her heel, she tossed over her shoulder, “Fine.” He made himself comfortable at the breakfast bar, sitting in the same spot as last night. She tried not to blush at the memory of what they’d done in that very location, what she would have allowed him to do, and focus on the business at hand. Jason had other ideas.

  Unfolding the sack, he withdrew two thick sandwiches wrapped in wax paper. If she thought the aroma was enticing before, its presentation made her mouth water.

  With a flourish, he unwrapped them both to reveal some sort of heart attack on a plate.

  “What’s in there?”

  He looked up with a smirk. “What isn’t? I didn’t know what you liked, so I took my chances. Anything you don’t want, pick out and I’ll happily eat.” She lifted the top layer of toasted sourdough bread and almost moaned. Beneath, two perfectly fried eggs, slices of ruby-red tomatoes, bacon still dripping with grease, some sort of green sauce and melted cheese formed a mountain of decadence. One thing she’d admit about her neighbor—he knew his way to a girl’s heart.

  They ate in silence. Mostly because she sucked down the food with great relish, enjoying every mouthful of the sandwich. She felt the heat of his gaze on her a few times, but ignored it. If she had to face something the dead scribbled in the note, it could damn well wait until she faced it on a full stomach.

  “So,” she said between the last bites, “let’s get this over with. What did you want to show me?”

  “Morning person, huh?” When she gave him her most wan expression, his lips tightened. “Listen, don’t you think we should at least discuss what happened here last night? One minute, we’re doing this trance thing and the next…” 27

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  “And the next we’re locking lips with no plans on coming up for air.” He didn’t have to remind her. The memory of those moments burned images in her mind she had no plans of setting free.

  “You don’t have to sound so disgusted by it.”

  His sulkiness almost made her smile, but she shook off amusement to feign indignation. “You listen. The only reason you’re in here now is because you said you have something to show me.”

  He stared at her a moment longer. Long enough to make her wonder if he planned on answering. Slowly though, he pushed aside their trash and unfolded a familiar piece of paper.

  She hadn’t gotten a good look at it before he left, but a quick glance wouldn’t have been sufficient anyway. Words written in the handwriting of a child stretched from edge to edge. The letters were large, clumsily formed. It didn’t take long to read most of the nonsensical phrases. None of it made much sense to her.

  “You said my name is on here.”

  Jason moved closer. “Yeah, it’s not easy to catch at first, but look here.” He tilted the page until it lay horizontally. “Now read it again.” The letters making up her name drew her eyes almost immediately. “Son of a…”

  “Read the whole thing. It’s beyond eerie.”

  Already ahead of him, she scanned the contents. “This is impossible. Do you have any idea the odds of anyone making this happen on purpose?” When the page lay vertical, one series of messages spread out before her. The moment he turned the page however, an entire new set of messages appeared. Going way beyond eerie, it was genius.

  He tucked the remains of his sandwich into his mouth. “You’d have to tell me what to expect.”

  If only she could. “I haven’t done automatic writing in years. And believe me, we didn’t get anything this…complex.”

  “What do you make of the words?”

  “What do you?” She looked up at him. “You were supposed to call on your brother.

  Does anything in here make sense to you? Something only you and he would know?” His gaze shifted away. “No. Not really. My name. Your name. That’s about it.”

  “In all of this, you couldn’t find something else?”

  “Don’t you think I’ve tried? There are a bunch of names, words I understand and more I don’t. Any of it could mean anything. Do you have any idea how… Never mind.

  Just know if I could do what you do…”

  It struck her then. The irrationality of their situation. “You never questioned it. You accepted what I told you I could do without thinking twice. Why? I could be running some sort of con.”

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  “Because my brother and I had unfinished business. Because you said something so simple, so mundane, so him, I had no choice. I had to believe you.” Leaning back against the stool, she crossed her legs. “Perhaps you should tell me what kind of unfinished business we’re talking about here.”

  “It’s nothing,” he muttered.

  “If you want my help anymore, make it something. I’m not going to try to contact your brother if there’s bad blood between the two of you. It’s dangerous for you and more importantly, me, if I try.”

  A weight lifted from his shoulders. Whether she realized what she just said or not, she at least insinuated she planned on helping him. But where to begin telling her about Teddy? Suddenly eating the sandwich he brought over no longer seemed like such a good idea. It bubbled in his stomach like battery acid.

  “Where should I begin?”

  She shot him another bland look. He’d all but anticipated it. “At the beginning.”

  “Um, I guess we had a typical childhood.” Sabrina settled onto the stool now and gave him a cursory nod. “You know, two brothers sharing a single room. We fought a lot, played a lot. Fought more. Everything was good, so I thought. So my parents thought.”

  “Something changed.”

  “Yeah. We grew up.” After leaving Sabrina last night, he went home with the document of words meant to give him some insight, or some kind of connection to his brother and spent hours poring over the words, trying to make sense of them. He couldn’t have gotten more than three or four hours of sleep as a result and suddenly, he felt every second of those missing minutes of rest. “Thad stopped being the brother I knew. He became listless, some days not even having the motivation to get out of bed and shower. He’d just flunked a semester at school, so we all figured it was just a funk he’d get over sooner or later. But he never did.”

  “What was he like before that? This change couldn’t have happened overnight.” A furrow etched into his brow as he mulled it over. “Actually, you’re right. If I really spend time studying his behavior, he was always a sullen kid. Always brooding over something. Definitely a glass-half-empty kind of person. But then it got bad. So much worse.” His voice took on the same melancholic tone it always got when he talked about Teddy, but it couldn’t be helped. He hated to think of his role in his brother’s downward spiral. “We tried to insist he get help, but you can’t force an adult to do anything he doesn’t want to do and Thad didn’t think he needed help. He just wanted to sleep and be left alone. Only his boat and the ocean ever got him to leave his room.”

  The stool scraped against the tile floor when she shifted, causing him to look up.

  Her expression said she understood his sorrow and her silence was just as telling. If 29

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  nothing else, it prompted him to speak more about his most haunting topic. It came pouring out of him as if he’d spent the night drinking liquor, effectively loosening his tongue. He almost never spoke with his friends about Teddy, yet here he was with
a stranger pouring out his heart. Later, maybe when he wasn’t so desperate, he’d analyze why.

  “We don’t know he’s dead for certain.”

  “What?” Sabrina shot forward. “But…”

  “If there isn’t a body to recover, you have to wait seven years to be officially declared dead. It’s only been two.”

  “So why would you even assume he’s dead? What happened?”

  “He went out on his boat one day and never came back.”

  “That doesn’t mean he’s dead, Jason.”

  His eyes felt heavy. The effort to lift them and meet her gaze sapped his depleting energy. “It does if his boat is found in the middle of the Intercoastal. No sign of him anywhere to be found.”

  Sabrina’s fingers had been drumming along the bar top. They stopped the moment the words left his mouth. With a glance he realized their hands were only inches from grazing. He battled some urge to slip her hand in his and hold on to it for a little comfort.

  She peered at the page again, disrupting the raging thought. “That, by itself, is still not a whole lot of proof. And the fact you didn’t get any messages from him when he had a clear medium for accessing you still gives me reason to pause. I’m not trying to belittle what you’re thinking, but Jason, are you sure you’re not wrong?”

  “You told me you speak with the dead. Is that true or not?”

  “It’s true.”

  “Then my brother is dead, because somehow you gave me a message from him.” Her voice remained neutral, but a shield slipped down over her eyes, separating him from her. “What message? I don’t remember and you still haven’t told me.”

  “You said ‘I’m not your teddy bear’.”

  If he thought she distanced herself before, a chasm separated them now. Her lips tightened, but just as quickly released the echoing look of frustrating. He knew he’d touched a soft spot in her while she tried to remain neutral. “I’m not your teddy bear?

  What kind of cryptic message is that?”