Stolen Dreams Page 3

  The ghost didn’t follow me and I was glad. I needed some space, time to return to reality, or to pleasure this need out of me. Any of that would do.

  Within only a few minutes, I arrived home and grabbed the keys from my purse before I even hit the stairs. The need hadn’t vanished. If anything, it had grown. My body pulsated. The wetness in my panties was a constant reminder of his words.

  I hit my key pass against the reader. When the door beeped, I rushed in and ran like a bat out of hell toward my condo. At the door, I fumbled with my keys. Eventually, I got the damn thing to open, slamming it closed behind me.

  Not bothering to lock it, I did the only thing my mind could comprehend at the moment. I ran to the bedroom, stripped out of my clothes, grabbed my vibrator from the drawer to give myself pleasure and finished what the ghost had started.

  ***

  Chapter Three

  Ring ring...ring ring...ring ring...

  Without lifting my head, I reached out to the telephone, which sat on the bedside table then pressed the phone to my ear and croaked, “Hello.”

  “Wakey, wakey, rise and shine!” Caley’s amused voice was loud. “Do you mind explaining why you looked ready to hump that stool last night?”

  Rolling onto my back, I put my hand over my eyes in mortification. “You wouldn’t believe me even if I told you.”

  “Oh yeah? Try me.”

  Caley was the only one who knew about my ability to see ghosts, but just because she knew, didn’t mean we talked about it often. The idea scared Caley and I could understand it―at first it had scared me too. But one thing that was a constant between us was the truth. She asked, therefore, she was about to get what she wanted. “It was a ghost.”

  There was a long silence before Caley finally said, “A ghost who made you almost orgasm in public?”

  I nodded then realized she couldn’t see me so followed up by saying, “He was talking dirty.”

  “He was what?” she exclaimed so loud, I had to shift the phone away from my ear. “And it turned you on?”

  After a deep sigh, I brought the phone back and answered her, “Apparently.”

  Another long silence hit before she said, “That’s sexy.”

  My hand dropped from my face and I bolted upright. “It’s not sexy―it’s sick.”

  Caley didn’t seem to agree, and moved along dismissing my earlier statement. “So, he’s hot I take it.”

  “Just a little bit.” Hot didn’t define what he was. Sexy, smouldering, downright delectable was more like it.

  Her voice was tinged with laughter just waiting to explode. “You should have seen yourself last night.”

  “Please, don’t remind me.” I must have looked ridiculous, red-faced and all.

  Caley giggled. “So, is this ghost with you now?”

  The thought hadn’t even crossed my mind. I lowered my hand and looked out in front of me. “I don’t know if he’s here.” A loud clearing of a throat came from beside me. I screamed like a girl seeing Justin Timberlake, dropped the phone, and jumped out of bed to see the ghost sitting in the chair in the corner of the room. “Don’t do that,” I yelled at him.

  He laughed, grinning with thoroughly amused eyes. “My apologies.”

  The phone had fallen to the floor, I spun around, bent down, and the ghost groaned. Snatching the phone up, I stood and glanced back to him. He appeared tense, straining almost. His eyes deep, his lips in a thin line and his fists tight floating above the arm rests.

  Caley’s screams erupting through the air snapped me away from him, I raised the phone to my ear. “Tess, Tess,” she shouted.

  “Sorry, I’m here.”

  “Is he there with you now?” She sounded shocked, yet curious.

  My gaze moved back to the ghost lounging in my old wooden rocking chair, his fingers now laced behind his head. “Yes, he’s here. I have to go.” Without giving Caley a chance to respond, I hung up the phone.

  “Sleep well?” the ghost asked.

  Yes, in fact I had the best sleep of my life. After being turned on to high, then left to simmer, then brought to a boil, when my head hit the pillow I was dead to the world. Not that I’d tell him. “Don’t you go being all Mr. Nice Guy after the stunt you pulled last night.”

  He smirked, relief flashed across his face. “She finally decides to stop ignoring me.” Amusement twinkled in his eyes. “I thought that might grab your attention.”

  I glared at the suggestion. Like I would have been able to do anything but acknowledge him. “How could I ignore you with all the smooth fantasyland talking? What are you some type of phone sex operator?”

  He threw his head back, let out a loud laugh, then met my gaze again. “No, but was I good at it?”

  “No,” I snapped, but even as I said it, knew it was a lie. He had gotten to me as no one ever had. If I let myself be reminded of his words, I was sure I’d end up reaching for the drawer again.

  “Now that’s a lie,” he said, quite proud of himself.

  Oh, I had reached the last straw. Now he was calling me out. I took a step toward him and noticed when I closed in on him, he did a full once over on my body. His gaze came slowly back up to mine. Powerful sparks of reaction lived there. It didn’t stop me from still being annoyed with him. “That’s it! Who are you?”

  “Kipp McGowan,” he answered, calm and so sure of himself.

  “Well, Kipp McGowan...” I placed my hands on my hips, lifted my chin to dignify myself, “what do you want?”

  “Finally, she asks the right question.” He gave my body the once over again then gave a sexy smile. “I’ll wait for you out in the living room to discuss it.” He stood and headed for the door, but before he exited, glanced back with a raised eyebrow. “You might want to put some clothes on.”

  Immediately, I glanced down to realize I was naked. After settling myself last night, I was so exhausted I went straight to sleep without dressing―something I apparently forgotten until now.

  As the door shut, his laughter came deep from the other side.

  Mortified, without pause, I got dressed in jeans and a cotton tee, mumbling obscenities the entire time. Once done, I gripped the door handle while I attempted to find some balls.

  After an obscene about of time, I decided on a different way to handle this situation. Ignore it. I took a deep breath, opened the door and made my way out to the living room.

  Kipp rested on the couch, the grin still very prevalent on his face. My hand shot up as I gave him a glare which clearly stated I’d Ghostbuster his ass if he said a word. “Not discussing it―never happened.” His low chuckle echoed around me as I made my way to the kitchen.

  Day old blueberry muffins from the bakery around the corner were where I’d left them on the marble counter beside the sink. I snatched one up before going back to join him. “So, lay it on me, how do I get rid of you?”

  Kipp ran a hand along his scruffy chin and I wasn’t blind to it―blind to the fact I had an urge to feel his face myself. But it was a want which was impossible. I needed to get my head screwed on straight. Why was I even thinking these things?

  Luckily, he spoke and it focused me away from my inner hell. “I’m a cop with the Memphis Police.”

  “A cop,” I repeated, pulling the wrapper off the muffin and placing in on the glass coffee table. “Never had one of you before.”

  He lowered his hand from his face with a curious glance. “So this happens to you often?”

  I took a bite of the muffin, the flavour exploded in my mouth as the blueberries added a little sour to the sweet muffin, then I nodded. “All the time.” After swallowing, I asked, “I’m surprised you have figured out that you’re a ghost. Normally when ghosts come to me they have no idea.” They always needed a little help to figure out what happened to them and to admit the fact they were no longer among the living.

  “It took a while to realize something was wrong. But when I talked to people and no one responded it was pretty clear cut.�
� Then, he examined me again with more curiosity. “You only see dead people?”

  “No, I don’t see dead people, I see spirits.”

  His eyebrow arched up in question. “There’s a difference?”

  Stupid sexy ghost! “Of course there’s a difference. If I saw dead people it would be their bodies, you know bloody, stiff, blue―that kind of stuff.”

  “Lovely image,” he said in a snort.

  I shrugged away his bothered look. He shouldn’t have asked if he didn’t want to know. Besides, he was a cop, he should be used to guts and gore. “The ones I see are like you. Who look entirely normal, but are stuck here, needing to do something that will free them and allow them to cross over.”

  “Cross over to where?”

  “I would guess Heaven.” I gave a nonchalant wave of my hand. “I don’t really know where you go after here. All I know is after I help the spirits do whatever they need, they up and vanish.”

  He shook his head, clearly in disbelief. “And how long have you been able to see and talk to spirits?” He ran his gaze along my face as if he was searching for something.

  Probably the truth.

  “I was in a car wreck when I was seventeen. Almost died, but a doctor was in the car behind us when the accident happened. He worked his magic and saved my life.”

  He went quiet a moment, thoughtful, then he asked, “Have you looked into why you hold this ability?”

  Been there, done that. “Read a couple books about it. When someone dies, like I did for a total of ten minutes, then is revived sometimes they take part of the...” I hesitated, trying to find the right words, “the place between Heaven and earth with them.”

  “And that is where I am now?” His voice was unwavering. Nothing about him was readable. He never let on by his expression or his voice what he felt.

  “I suspect so.”

  He fell silent as he glanced at his hands. When he looked up there was sadness in his unusual coloured eyes. “I don’t feel dead.”

  If I could have hugged him, I would have. He might have been bugging me or arousing me into unknown territory, but I did have a heart and he was tugging on my heartstrings. “I’ve never met a ghost who did.”

  The sadness in the ghost’s eyes always got me. I couldn’t refuse them when I saw it, hence, why I always avoided talking to them. Suddenly, my appetite fled. I placed the muffin on the coffee table to sit with the wrapper. “What is it you need me to do, Kipp?”

  He gave his head a shake, apparently to gather himself as his eyebrows drew together to focus. “My partner, Zach Foster and I were working cold case files within the department.”

  “Oh, I’ve seen that show.”

  “Trust me, it’s nothing that exciting. The cases are old and digging into them is exhausting. Out of the hundred cases we have sifted through, we’ve probably solved two.”

  There went my images of grave digging, solving mysteries and fighting crime. Television, the devil’s play toy―nothing was ever as it seemed. “Shitty,” was my only response.

  He nodded, his eyebrows furrowed deeper. “Exactly.”

  The sudden urge made me want to run my fingers along those stiff lines between his brows to erase the worry there. A moment later, I realized where my mind was going. I dug my nails into my palms to focus away from the ridiculous line of thinking just as he said, “The last case we were working on was the disappearance of a twenty year old woman who went missing five years ago.”

  That seemed familiar. I flittered through my memory, then something came up to the surface. “Are you talking about Hannah Reid?”

  “You’re aware of the case?” Curiosity filled his tone.

  “Of course I am, wasn’t everyone?” The case was everywhere, hundreds of volunteers came to aid in the search, but even after weeks, Hannah was never found.

  He inclined his head, his questions to how I knew about the disappearance was apparently settled. “Anyways, we were beginning to break ground with the case. Leads were developing. The last thing I can remember was going to a house that may have been the last place Hannah was.”

  I went quiet for a moment, examining him. Something was off here―he seemed so...coherent. Confused, I asked, “How do you remember all this?”

  His gaze swept with pure amusement, before he looked at me as if my head was screwed on backwards. “How do I remember my life?”

  “Yes, exactly that.” He remembered details about the case he was working on, the house he went to, and he knew he had died. Nothing about this made any sense. “How do you remember that?”

  He chuckled, arched an eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t I?”

  “Because the ghosts I’ve met never do. They only know what they need to do to cross over.” Maybe this was funny to him. To me, it wasn’t. It was too weird to be funny. I had never come across this before. I’d gotten used to my peculiar little world I lived in and here was this ghost stirring it all up. It made me uncomfortable.

  His eyes went wide with obvious puzzlement. “Really?”

  “You’re the first ghost I’ve ever met who can remember anything from the past.”

  “I can remember everything―right down to what I ate on Sunday.” Then, his gaze was probing. “What does that mean?”

  “Got me.” I shrugged. Silence filled the room with a bunch of the unknowns, I grasped on the only thing I did know. “So, since your last memory was of the house, I take it you died there?”

  “I was shot,” he replied without hesitation.

  Yuck, not a nice way to go. I was only too glad when the ghosts appeared their manner of death hadn’t followed them. Seeing someone’s insides on the outside held no appeal to me. I cleared my mind of the revolting thought and went on. “Do you know who shot you?”

  “I suspect it was whoever killed Hannah Reid. Apparently, I was closing in on a suspect and whoever it was didn’t want me to find out their identity.”

  Guess that made sense. “All right, I get it, but what do you need me to do?” For the life of me, I couldn’t see where this was going. He had been quite persistent I acknowledge him. As interesting as this all was, I was at a complete loss as to what he wanted from me.

  “I need you to go to the station and talk with my partner. Fill him in on what I know so he can move along with the case.”

  My mind processed his words, then I burst out laughing. “Oh, that’s a good one.” He said nothing and my laughter ceased. “Please tell me this is a joke?”

  He shook his head, his expression severe. “It must be why I’m still here. Obviously, I was on the right track since apparently I’m dead. The only way to solve this case is to tell my partner what I know, and the only way to do it is through you.”

  Again, I processed this. My thoughts ran wild as I went over his words just to be sure I understood him. “Are you seriously suggesting, I walk into the police station and tell them the friend they have just lost is actually not gone, but here with me as a ghost and wants me to relay information which will solve a cold case?”

  “Sounds as if you got it right.”

  Pushing against the couch with my hands, I rose to my feet and crossed my arms across my chest. “No.” Dammit, this was over the top. I had no interest in looking like a fool in front of a bunch of cops. This was my secret, one I kept bundled up and hidden from the world. None of me wanted to expose it to be laughed at.

  “You want to get rid of me?” The side of his mouth arched as he attempted to show me my choices were limited. “Well, this is how.”

  I exhaled a low deep sound, pondering his words. It annoyed me to find part of me wanted to say no because the thought of him gone unsettled me, which was just disturbing. The situation was beginning to turn into some sick movie I’d watch because I didn’t have a choice, but then I’d complain about how morbid it was afterwards. This had to end now.

  “Fine, I’ll help you. But just so you know, they’re not going to believe me.”

  He winked and aimed a grin my way w
hich nearly swept me off my feet. “You won’t see me arguing that point with you, gorgeous.”

  ***

  Chapter Four

  The thing about downtown living is everything is just a short walk away. G E Patterson Avenue was the road which leads to anything that matters here in Memphis. Kipp stayed beside me, quiet as we made our way toward the station. Didn’t even say a word when I called in sick to work to handle this little problem. Doris, as always, wished me well. After turning my cell phone off to not be disturbed, I placed it in my back pocket. I needed to break the awkward silence around us. “So...how long have you been dead?” I clamped a hand over my mouth, horrified. Of course I blurted out something so inappropriate since I was feeling uncomfortable. “Sorry, that came out all wrong.”

  He laughed my indignity away. “Nah, it’s all right. It’s a valid question. If I woke the night I died, it’s been a week.”

  A week didn’t really seem long. To a dead person, it must feel like an eternity, no one to talk to or acknowledge your presence. It couldn’t have felt good. “And you’ve just been wandering the streets since then?”

  “Went home for a few days actually, but when that got me nowhere I decided to venture out.” He winked. “Then, luckily I stumbled across you.”

  Yeah right, lucky me!

  Another block passed under my feet before Main Street came into view. The downtown core was busy tonight, which was why every person I passed gave me a look of oh that poor crazy person since I was having a conversation with myself. “It was the glowing bit wasn’t it?”

  He arched his eyebrow. “Glowing bit?”

  “The golden aura.” I waved my hand across my body to prove my point. “It’s what made you approach me, right? You know, made you know I could help you?”

  The arch of his eyebrow fell as he smiled. “Initially it was, yes.”

  His vague answer left me a little puzzled, but the intensity of his stare when he said it, meant I wasn’t about to dig deeper. Plus that sexy grin left me all too aware he was once a man—a smokin’ man with a dirty mouth. One I apparently was quite fond of. I focused back on the street, changing the subject. “How long have you been a cop?”