Double Dating with the Dead by Karen Kelley (best fiction novels to read .txt) 📗

my kitchen. You have as much right to be here as I do.” He acted as if he’d rather be anywhere than in the same room with her. Fine. It was no skin off her nose.

He barely hesitated before going to the cabinet and bringing down a glass. She picked up the wine and handed it to him. Technically, it was his bottle.

“Thanks.” He took it, started to pour a glass, but stopped at the last second. His face lost some of its color.

It took her a moment to realize what he was thinking. Must be all those dust bunnies she’d inhaled in the attic, but her psychic ability was really getting weak not to have realized sooner what he thought.

“I didn’t drug you if that’s what you’re wondering.” She grabbed the bottle from him and splashed some of the dark liquid into her glass, then swallowed a drink before handing it back to him. She raised an eyebrow. “There, are you satisfied?”

He poured the wine into his glass. “I didn’t think you’d drugged me,” he growled.

“Ha! Didn’t you? Wouldn’t that neatly explain everything away? Like the fact you felt Wesley possess your body?” She waved her hands around. “Do you think you were on a bad trip? LSD or something?” She sighed. “Sorry, but I’m on the council for public awareness to stop illegal drugs. It just wouldn’t look right if I went around giving narcotics to people who really piss me off.”

“Did I say you had?” His frown only deepened. “I told you I don’t believe in ghosts, and that little episode in the attic hasn’t changed my opinion.”

“So how have you explained it?” She boosted herself up on the counter, swinging her feet. “Please tell me. This should be good.”

He shrugged. “What’s there to explain? The clothes, the antiques, add a hot, stuffy attic. I got a little dizzy. Embarrassing, but it doesn’t mean I was possessed.” He took a drink, then lowered his glass as he ambled closer to her. “Unless you count that I was possessed by your beauty. That your eyes captured and held mine. That the heat from your lips sizzled all the way down to my toes. Is that what you want to hear?”

She could barely breathe as he set his glass down and eased his body between her legs. The nylon material of her shorts slid easily across the tiled surface of the counter as he brought her closer to him.

“There’s something about you,” he murmured as his gaze caught and held hers. He slid his hand behind her neck and pulled her toward him.

She should wrench away, slap his face…or something. He certainly had his nerve.

But his breath was hot on her face, and suddenly she couldn’t breathe. Her heart pounded in her ears as his lips drew closer to hers.

Run! her mind screamed.

In a minute, she told herself. In a minute, there would be plenty of time to stop. But first she had to taste the heat of his lips. As soon as she did, then she would tell him to go to hell.

Chapter 18

Trent called himself every kind of a fool, but damn it, he couldn’t stop himself from kissing her again, and she wasn’t pulling away. His lips met hers.

The first touch, the first whisper of her breath, her sigh against his lips, bathed him with desire. He ached for her. He wanted to see all of her, touch all of her, taste all of her.

He moved his hands to her shirt, unbuttoning each button, his hands brushing against the lace of her bra, then fanning the sides open.

He ended the kiss and leaned back, staring at the lacy pink cups of her bra. Only Selena could wear lacy pink and make it come off sexy as hell. He hardly noticed when she placed her hands on his chest.

“Trent, we can’t,” she said on a breathless whisper.

“Why?” He barely recognized the raspy words as coming from him. He lightly rubbed his thumbs over the thin swathe of material that covered her breasts. Her nipples immediately tightened into hard little nubs. He continued to outline them in a circular movement.

She moaned, her eyes closing as she bit down on her bottom lip. Then she seemed to rouse with valiant effort.

She met his gaze head on. “Stoppp….”

“Are you sure?”

Silence.

“Stop what? This?” He flicked his fingers over her nipples. “Or this?” He lightly pinched them between his thumb and forefinger, rolling them back and forth.

She jumped. “Trent…please…”

“That’s exactly what I’m trying to do…please you. Maybe you’ll like this better.” With one snap, he’d unhooked her bra and slid it, along with her shirt, down her arms so that she was bare to the waist. “Magnificent.”

He cupped her breasts. They fit perfectly into the palms of his hands, the aureoles dusky, the nipples not too small. Just the right size for him to roll one around on his tongue, pulling against it with his teeth.

“Do you still want me to stop?” He raised his head. “I will if you insist, but you have to tell me the truth.”

“This is so wrong.”

“But it feels so right.” He continued to fondle her breasts. “I want to do everything I’ve dreamed about since I first met you. I want to kiss every inch of your body.”

He lowered his hands, sliding them over her ribs, over the satiny pink nylon of her shorts. He didn’t stop until his fingers were pressing against her sex. She arched her back, her breasts thrusting toward his face. He didn’t lose the opportunity to take one ripe nipple into his mouth and suck.

“Oh, oh, damn.” She grabbed his head, pulling it tighter against her breast.

He slid his fingers beneath the hem of her shorts, wiggling inside until he touched her sex. He drew in a deep breath. Damn, she was already hot and damp.

He buried his face between her breasts. “Do you want me to stop?”

“Stop now and you’re dead meat, buster,” she hissed.

“If I stop