Kiss And Dwell (12 page)

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Authors: Kelley St. John

Tags: #Sexth Sense

BOOK: Kiss And Dwell
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Have you seen me?

She asked the question on impulse and immediately wished she
could retract the four words, but she couldn

t deny that she wanted to know. Had
he seen her from the other side?

She glanced down at the mesh
nightie
. The thin fabric didn

t leave much, if
anything, to his imagination. If Ryan
Chappelle
had been able to see her
from—wherever he was, had he seen all of her? An incessant prickle of anxiety
burned Monique

s cheeks as she awaited his answer.


Yes,

he said. One corner of his mouth curled upward when he heard Monique

s
sharp intake of breath.

And no.


Are you going to explain that?

She didn

t attempt to hide her irritation with
his smug behavior. How could he invade her privacy that way? And why would
Adeline
Vicknair
have sent him here if she knew he

d been playing Peeping Tom?

Monique pulled the comforter up to her neck then wondered if he could see
through the downy fabric.

Can—


No,

he said.

I can

t see through things. I

m a ghost, not the Man of Steel.

Monique fought the urge to laugh. He

d said he could see her from the middle
realm. Actually, he

d said

yes and no.

What did that mean?

Undeterred by her annoyance, he stood and moved toward the bed, looking at her
intensely.

Monique tightened her grip on the edge of the comforter.

What?


You called me here for something. Remember?

He sat on the bed then leaned
toward her, his rugged face merely inches from hers. Close enough to kiss. The
king-sized bed seemed tiny with his massive presence. What had she been
thinking, calling him—a bona fide ghost—here? And wanting him to give her an
orgasm, no less. She

d definitely been way too long without sex, or she

d never
have considered something so outrageous. Surely she wouldn

t have. Then she
looked at Ryan
Chappelle
, the intriguing glow defining his body, the mysterious
black eyes, the mouth that promised to please…

Oh, she knew exactly what she

d been thinking, and she was thinking it again
.

She wanted this ghost. Bad.


I never tried to see you from the middle, Monique. However, if I had known how
captivating you were, I promise you I would have.

Her mind seemed to clear from the thick fog of lust, and she remembered why
she

d been mad.

Ghosts shouldn

t be able to see everything. It isn

t right.


You didn

t let me finish,

Ryan said, scooting up on the bed, so that his hip
grazed her leg and sent a shiver straight to her uterus. Good thing the thick
comforter was between them.


If I had tried to see you, I could have, but never nude. Ghosts can

t see
through clothing, and they can

t view nudity unless it is expressly allowed by
the individual. Even now, in this room, I can only see you clothed. I cannot see
all of you, unless you allow it. That

s a rule I can

t control. However, even if
I could see every woman in the world completely naked, I wouldn

t. I

m from the
South, Monique, and we tend to lean toward the gentlemanly side of things
.

Therefore, the only women I

ve seen without their clothes are the ones who
wanted me to see them that way.

Good to know, Monique mused.

Another question,

she said, curious about this
new insight into the spirit realm.


Go ahead.


Say I called you here and I wasn

t wearing anything, nothing at all, and then
you came because you were called.

He nodded as she paused.

If you can

t see me
unclothed, what exactly do you see?

Ryan

s luscious mouth twitched. For a moment, she thought he wouldn

t elaborate
about the specifics, what he could see and what he couldn

t, but then his husky
voice commanded her undivided attention.

A privacy veil. Sheer and golden, the
veil illuminates your body, but protects you from my view, or any other spirit

s
view. No spirit can see you unless you want to be seen. I promise.

Before she had a chance to change her mind, Monique crawled out from under the
covers. Easing off the bed, she walked around the end, her feet chilled slightly
from the cool hardwood floor, and turned so she stood directly in front of him
.

Then she crossed her arms in front of her chest and ran her fingers under the
tiny straps of the
nightie
.

And a spirit cannot tell a lie,

she said.


That

s right.

Ryan

s voice faded, losing its steely edge. His hands fisted
around the fabric of the comforter as he studied her fingers, toying with the
top of her
nightie
.

Monique

s eyes never left his as she slowly shifted a strap down one shoulder,
then the other, and let the soft fabric caress her body as the material puddled
to the floor.

A blue mesh thong. She stood in front of a spirit wearing nothing but a blue
mesh thong.


What do you see now?

Her voice was shakier than she would have liked. She
wanted him to view her as strong and brazen, as a woman who would remove her
clothes within an arm

s length of a virtual stranger.

Within an arm

s length. Ryan

s muscles rippled against the soft cotton of his
shirt. His hands, long-fingered and strong, could easily reach forward and brush
against her skin, against her breasts and lower. He

d been so cocky that she
wanted to torture him a little before letting him have what he wanted, and what
she wanted as well. But the torture was twofold. She wanted him to see beyond
that privacy veil, and at the moment, she wanted him to touch.

Ryan shifted on the bed, his eyes grazing her body sensually from head to toe
.

Monique wondered if she had been wrong. She speculated whether he could actually
see her, all of her, now. Maybe she didn

t have to verbally give him permission
.

Maybe, since she really wanted to be naked with him, he could already see her in
her entirety and this was one big joke to the gorgeous ghost. But she hadn

t
given him permission, even in her mind.


Do you really want to know what I see?

he asked, and her momentary
embarrassment at her spontaneity escalated.

She swallowed, nodded.


I see golden hair shining in the moonlight, flowing down a slender back. I see
green-gold eyes searching for answers, longing to know more about the man who is
tempting her sensual, baser needs. I see a heart-shaped mouth, nervously bitten
by a woman who is apprehensive and anxious and curious and sexy and intrigued. A
delicate face with high cheekbones, straight nose and exotic arched brows. And I
see a body that is hidden beneath a curtain of gold shimmer, only feeding my
vivid imagination of what lies beneath.

A bold blaze of lightning invaded the room and illuminated those dark, dark
eyes, examining her with riveting intensity.


Ryan,

she whispered, finding it difficult to speak in her extremely aroused
state.


Yes?


Close your eyes.


Yes, ma

am,

he said, and obeyed her command.

Monique

s breath caught in her throat as she slid the thong down her legs and
let it fall to the floor. She swallowed thickly, made her decision, then put all
her attention on one thought.


Open your eyes,

she directed, then watched him drink her in.

Now what do you
see?

He moistened his lips, swallowed visibly.

I see perfection. Beautiful and bold,
curved and silky, tantalizing and tempting perfection. I see you, Monique, all
of you, and you

re as exquisite as I

d thought,

he said.

More.

Her pulse skittered, her skin tingled with delicious desire.

I want you—

She
paused.


Damn, it sounds like there

s a

but

coming,

he said, crooking one corner of
his mouth.

Monique, you

re not going to stand there and show me—everything—then
tell me no, are you?

Pierre

s words from earlier, his reference to her being a tease, found their way
back into her mind. But she wasn

t a tease, and she wasn

t trying to tease Ryan
Chappelle
now. She wanted him, wanted him more than anything she could remember
in a very long time, but—the rules.


We can

t touch,

she said,

And I don

t know how we would…

His brows lifted, mouth curved upward.

Hell, is that all that

s bothering you?

He stood then tilted his head toward the bed.

Get back in, Monique, and let me
show you what I think of that rule.

Taken aback, she stepped past him and eased into bed, then pulled the cool sheet
over her naked flesh.

I do want you, Ryan, but I don

t want the whole family to
pay for it.


We

re not going to break those
Vicknair
rules,

he assured her.

Trust me.

Trust him. She barely knew him, and all he had to do was touch her, and she

d be
throwing the whole family heritage right out the window, she guessed. No one had
ever said for sure what would happen, but she didn

t want to risk it, even for a
round of wild and wicked with the hottest man—make that ghost—on the planet. But
she wanted to trust him, really she did. She wanted to trust him and let him do
anything he wanted. As much as he wanted. She just had no idea how he

d pull
that off without touching her.


You won

t need that sheet.

He slowly pulled the soft fabric down her body,
studying and apparently appreciating every exposed inch along the way.

Monique realized with sudden clarity that she was completely naked, completely
displayed for his thorough perusal, and he was still clothed.

I want to see
you,

she said.


You will,

he promised,

But not this time. This time is for you.

Careful not
to touch her skin, he ran his hand down the outer edge of the bed then leaned
over her to scan the other side, squinting his eyes as he searched the mattress.


What are you looking for?

she asked.


There it is,

he said.

I believe you had a name for it, didn

t you? Baby
.

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