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Authors: Gabrielle Holly

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BOOK: Soldier of Love
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Thomas thanked Mike for the update, then sat down hard on a kitchen chair. He rested his forehead in his hands.

“What time is it?” he asked.

Toni tilted the phone towards her. “Four-seventeen. We should go to bed.”

Thomas looked up at her. “Listen, I’m sure that would be amazing, but I’m exhausted.”

“To sleep. We should go to our separate beds, to sleep.”

Thomas shook his head. “Sorry. I’m just punchy, I guess. Yeah, sleep sounds like a great idea.”

Thomas slung his carryon bag over one shoulder and gathered up the infrared and night-vision cameras—both still mounted to their tripods. Toni was exhausted when she led him upstairs. She stumbled on the bottom step and righted herself against the loose banister. She showed him one of the guestrooms at the top of the stairs.

“They all have private baths,” she said, “and this one is actually working.”

Thomas dropped his carryon inside the guestroom door, but remained standing in the hallway, cameras and tripods in hand.

Toni paused. “Did you need something?”

“Where’s your room?” he asked.

“Excuse me?”

Thomas held out the equipment. “I need to set these up in your room. Buckman is obviously drawn to you. The theory is that ghosts do their thing when the subject is most receptive, either during a heightened emotional state, or in a deep sleep. I’ll set up the cameras and see if we can catch Mr Tall, Dark and Transparent on the thermal-imager or on night vision.”

“No,” Toni said.

“No?” Thomas asked, raising his eyebrows and locking her in a disbelieving stare.

“That’s right, I said, ‘No’,” Toni confirmed. “I’m not comfortable with that.”

Thomas leant back hard against his guestroom doorjamb.

“Let me get this straight. You’re okay with calling complete strangers and telling them that you’ve been seeing ghosts. And you’re fine with inviting those strangers into your home and going on camera to recount the thrilling tale of how said ghost dry humped you doggie-style over your kitchen sink. And, presumably—since you signed a release—you don’t mind if any of that information is recorded for posterity and broadcast over international basic cable.
However
, you’re ‘not comfortable’ with me setting up a thermal imaging camera in your bedroom to record you while you sleep. Which, can I just say, is evidently the only time you’re
not
going to make some psychotic claim about your close, personal relationship with a one-hundred-and-fifty-year-old ghost. Does that about sum it up, Miss Bianchi?”

Toni took a step back as if Thomas’ words had dealt her a physical blow. A sudden, terrible realisation dawned on her.
He doesn’t believe it. Not any of it. He doesn’t believe in what he’s been selling the public for the past four seasons.
Her stomach knotted. Her eyes and nose stung with the cresting tears as she realised the worst of it.
And, he doesn’t believe me.

“Fine! Set up your damned cameras!” she said, then turned and stormed down the hallway.

She wondered how he’d feel when he reviewed the tapes and found out that what she’d been experiencing was real. She also wondered how she would feel if it weren’t.

Thomas followed her into the master suite where he set up the cameras to the left of the bathroom door on the wall opposite the bed. While he made adjustments to the setup, Toni went into the bathroom to get ready for bed. She slipped into her standard bedtime ensemble—an oversized T-shirt—washed her face, brushed her teeth and looked at herself in the mirror. Free from the confines of a bra, her breasts seemed freakishly large. She yanked her robe from a hook on the back of the heavy oak bathroom door, pulled it on and tied the belt tight. She drew in a deep breath.
I’ll get through this.
She’d brought the entire thing on herself. If she’d just thought things through and hadn’t been such a reactionary hothead, she’d still be back in the city with a lux condo and a fat bank account…and a raging case of stress-induced acid reflux, a ninety-hour work week, and a bum of a boyfriend whose only talent was spending her money.

Toni looked at her reflection in the mirror.
You chose this path, now you’ve got to make it work.

When she stepped out into the bedroom she saw Thomas looking through the viewfinder of one of the two cameras. He heard her and straightened. He seemed to be concentrating on keeping his voice even.

“Okay, so this is a thermal imager camera and that one is just standard night vision. I’m running them both directly into ginormous hard drives, so they can go all night without having any storage issues.”

Toni crossed her arms under her breasts and glanced at the tripods standing sentry across the room from the foot of her bed. The cameras were pointing to where she would try to sleep.

She kicked out one hip and raised her eyebrows. “Anything else?”

“Nope, that should do it,” Thomas answered.

She glared at him until he finally asked, “Problem?”

“I don’t have a problem,” Toni replied.

“Are you insinuating that I have a problem?” Thomas shot back.

“Well, if the insinuation fits.”

“Lady, you don’t even know me!”

“I know that you’re a phony. You prey on people who believe in the supernatural and you just pretend to believe in all this stuff so you can collect a pay cheque!”

“Yeah, a big, fat pay cheque. And those naïve idiots are going to believe in this stuff anyway. I used to. I wanted it to be true more than anyone. But I’ve been at this for years now. I’ve travelled all over the world, investigating the most credible reports with the most advanced equipment available. And you know what we found? Nothing! Nothing that couldn’t be explained away by a gust of wind or uneven floorboards or mice in the walls or lonely people with overactive imaginations!”

Toni shook her head as if she’d been slapped. “‘Overactive imaginations?’ Was that directed at me? Is that some kind of euphemism for ‘nuts’?”

Thomas held out his hands. “If the euphemism fits.”

Toni balled up her fists. Her eyes stung with tears of frustration. She felt a scream boiling up in her chest.

“Get out!” she shouted as she uncrossed her arms, flattened her hands and thrust her palms against Thomas’ chest.

The instant Toni’s hands made contact with Thomas’ body, a deafening crack caused them both to duck. Thomas wrapped his arms around Toni with such spontaneity that she allowed herself to be pulled in against him. They both turned towards the sound of the crack. The bathroom door had slammed shut and the thick oak was split down the centre and splintered away from the hinges. The halves teetered for a moment before falling into the bathroom and crashing onto the tiled floor.

Still clinging to one another, Toni and Thomas backed up until they were stopped by end of the bed. They untwined until each had an arm behind the other’s back, then they slowly sat on the mattress.

“Gun smoke,” Thomas whispered.

Toni could smell it too.

“I can hear his boots and the jangle of metal—like brass buttons and spurs. Do you hear that?” Thomas asked.

Toni shook her head. “No.”

Toni watched wordlessly as the bathroom began to glow and a thick fog rolled out through the doorway.

“Amazing,” she said.

“What do you see?” Thomas asked.

Toni wrinkled her forehead. She turned to face Thomas. He was staring into the bathroom as if searching for anything unusual. She noticed that his eyelids were half closed. He looked like he was struggling to stay awake.

Toni glanced at the cameras. They were between the bathroom door and Toni’s bed, trained on where Toni and Thomas sat, not on the spectacle she saw unfolding in the bathroom. Toni noted that a tiny red light glowed on each of the cameras. She found herself at once dreading what would emerge from the bathroom and wishing that whatever it was would get on with it already and walk into the frame.

“Aren’t you seeing this?” she whispered without taking her attention away from the bathroom.

Thomas didn’t speak. He answered her by stroking her back. His hand swept a lazy figure-of-eight from her tailbone to the base of her neck. Toni felt her shoulders relax and she realised that she’d been shrugging them up around her ears. Thomas continued the slow, sensual pattern over her back and she began to sway under his touch.

Toni kept her gaze on the bathroom door but was struck by the thought that this was like watching a movie. But, no, it was more intimate, more immersive.
This
is like watching a stage play.
Her body felt heavy and deliciously warm. Her eyelids dropped to half-mast and she felt a gentle smile draw up her cheeks. She slid her arm from behind Thomas’ back and laid her hand on his thigh. The warmth of his skin radiated through the denim. A soft sigh escaped with her next outward breath, as if she’d tasted something heavenly.

Thomas didn’t stop his rhythmic backrub when the soldier stepped into the bedroom. Toni realised that only she could see the ghost. She felt no fear. She somehow knew that John Buckman meant her no harm. She stole a glance at Thomas and saw only intoxicated bliss on his face. The soldier strode from across the room and stopped in front of them. He removed his hat and flung it on the wingchair near the bedroom window. The hat passed through the seat and disappeared into the shadows beneath.

John Buckman fixed his stare on Toni and never wavered as he began undressing. He let his weapons drop to the floor. He worked open his brass buttons and shrugged free of his shirt. He stood naked to the waist at the foot of the bed. Toni reached out towards his flat belly and expected her hand to pass through him, just as his hat had passed through the wingchair. Instead, she felt flesh so warm and solid, she wondered if a living, breathing stranger had entered her home. John Buckman disabused her of that notion by stepping back and outstretching his hands. Toni had an irresistible urge to take off her clothing. She wriggled out of her robe and pulled her T-shirt over her head. She wore nothing underneath. She ran her hands over her breasts, pausing to roll her nipples between her fingertips. Every movement was slower, more deliberate, but her sense of touch seemed magnified tenfold.

Beside her, Thomas kicked off the last of his clothes. Toni was unashamed as she looked down into his lap. She licked her lips at the sight of his thick cock standing up against his flat belly. She slowly swivelled her head and found John Buckman standing directly in front of her. He was now completely naked and his erect shaft was just inches from her face. Toni slid her hands from her breasts and slowly filled each with hard cock. She leant forward and took John Buckman’s rod into her mouth while stroking Thomas.

Thomas moaned, then asked, “Are you sucking his cock?”

Toni nodded and murmured, “Mm hmm,” through a full mouth.

Thomas moaned again in response while Toni continued to stroke him. John brushed his hand over Toni’s face, then gently pulled out of her mouth. He spoke to her with his eyes and she understood that she was to lie back on the bed. She moved up until her head was on the pillow. Thomas did the same and when he was lying beside her, he rolled up on his side and began to stroke Toni’s body. She watched Thomas’ hand as it slid up the rise of her breast. She bit her lip when his fingertips squeezed and sank into the plump flesh. John Buckman climbed onto the bed between her feet. Thomas turned and Toni thought for a moment that he could see John.

“I felt the bed move. Is he there?” Thomas asked.

Toni looked down at John and saw a wicked grin tug up the ends of his neat moustache. He bent and began nibbling at her tender thighs. Toni gasped at the prickly rasp of his whiskers against her skin. She propped herself up on her elbows and let her knees fall open. John plunged his face between her legs and ravenously sucked and nibbled at the outer lips. Toni let her head drop back and she cried out.

Thomas didn’t ask any more questions, but covered Toni’s mouth with his and roughly kneaded her breasts even as John Buckman filled her dripping pussy with his frantically probing fingers and tongue. Toni grabbed hold of Thomas’ hair and yanked back his head.

“Suck my tits,” she commanded. The dominance in her own voice heightened her passion.

Thomas moaned as his mouth descended on her breast. He sucked at a nipple and swirled his tongue over the hard nub. John plunged three fingers into her and pulled her clit between his lips.

“Harder! Faster!” Toni demanded.

Both Thomas and John mercilessly worked her most tender places until the orgasm overtook her. She cried out as her body jerked again and again. John slid his fingers out of her and when she looked up he was standing at the foot of the bed, stroking his erection. Toni’s body felt electrified, every sense was heightened. Her pussy throbbed and she longed to have it filled. She’d never felt so sexually greedy and her own wantonness made her euphoric. She pulled Thomas’ mouth onto her own, then guided him on top of her body. Thomas straightened his arms and loomed above her. He centred himself at her opening then gradually pushed into her. Even though she was dripping wet, his thick cock stretched her to the limit. He pressed forward then drew himself out slowly. He pushed inside again, this time not as gently, and the exquisite ache of it made her cry out. As soon as he’d drawn back out, Toni reached around behind him and yanked him back into her.

John Buckman was now at the side of the bed, leaning over her body, sucking greedily at the nearest breast and brutally kneading the other and pinching the nipple. Thomas bent over John’s arm and crushed his lips against Toni’s mouth. Toni reached out her hand and grasped John’s erection. She worked the rock hard shaft as her breasts and her pussy were tantalised by ravenous hands and mouths. She moaned with pleasure and her moaning spurred on both of her lovers. Thomas’ thrusting became manic. She knew she couldn’t have stopped him even if she wanted to. She tried to concentrate on stroking John’s shaft, and her own pleasure was building to an almost unbearable intensity. John slid a hand into the space where Thomas’ and Toni’s bodies met. He laid a thick finger on either side of her clit and began frantically rubbing the aching, engorged nub. The sensations that racked her body were so intense she thought she might faint.

BOOK: Soldier of Love
11.31Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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