Free The Ghost Shrink, the Accidental Gigolo & the Poltergeist Accountant by Vivi Andrews

the kiss and wriggled against him, making his eyes roll back in his head a little. She snagged his earlobe gently between her teeth. “I missed you,” she whispered huskily.
    “If this is the homecoming I get, I’ll have to go away more often.”
    Lucy leaned back in his arms. With her torso angled away from him, her crotch pressed tighter against his, grinding hard. Jake groaned and closed his eyes in bliss. This woman was going to kill him. Luckily, she’d also be his first stop in the afterlife.
    “You aren’t going anywhere until you have fulfilled your promise,” she said sternly.
    “My promise?” he asked dazedly. He was too horny for riddles.
    Lucy rocked her pelvis against the hard ridge in his jeans. “ This promise.”
    “Sweet Jesus,” Jake gasped out, and waited for his vision to clear.
    “Take me to bed, Mr. Cox,” she purred, his name sounding dirtier on her lips than he had ever dreamed it could.
    “Yes, ma’am.”
     
    There was something deliciously wanton about jumping a man on her front porch. It was even more delicious when that man was Jake. For once, Lucy didn’t care that she didn’t look like a sex object. Feeling like one was far better than looking like one.
    Jake carried her easily, as if she weighed nothing, his hands palming her ass and his body bumping up against hers as he strode back to her bedroom. He sat on her bed and she pressed him back onto the mattress, letting her hands run wild across his chest, shoving his shirt out of the way until he impatiently grabbed it and yanked it off in one quick move.
    He reached for her, but Lucy was enjoying having control too much to surrender it just yet. She batted his hands away and pushed his shoulders back down. She knelt above him, straddling his waist, and stretched her arms above her head, arching her back sinuously. She reached down and slowly raised the hem of her shirt an inch, giving him a teasing glimpse of her stomach. He reached for her again, and Lucy dropped the shirt back into place to catch his hands. He let her pin them to the mattress, though he was strong enough to easily overpower her.
    “Stay,” she commanded teasingly, languidly releasing his hands and reaching again for the hem of her shirt. This time, he made no attempt to interrupt her striptease, though his gaze scorched every inch of skin she revealed. The shirt rose slowly above her navel, her ribs. She paused, giving him a teasing glimpse of the underside of her breast—a little reminder that she was braless, since the one she had put on that morning was probably still on the warehouse floor, if it hadn’t become a banner at the police station by now.
    “Come on, baby,” he murmured encouragingly, and Lucy grinned wickedly.
    “What do you say?”
    “Please.”
    Lucy chuckled throatily and dragged the shirt up farther, shivering a little as the fabric abraded her nipples. She slipped the shirt over her head and tossed it aside with a flick of her wrist. She brought her hands down slowly, sliding them down the sides of her neck, slowly over her collarbone, down her chest to cradle herself, offering herself up to him.
    Jake flipped her onto her back, tangling his fingers through hers as he dragged her hands away from her breasts to make room for his mouth. Lips, tongue, teeth, he scraped, suckled and licked until she was writhing beneath him. She arched, trying to get more. It wasn’t quite enough , but he held her down, held her back, right on the edge of the more she needed.
    His lips pulled at her nipple and she moaned, “Jake.”
    He chuckled, his breath hot against her skin. “What do you say?”
    “ Please ,” she whimpered, twisting against the delicious weight of his chest pressed against her abdomen.
    Jake rasped out a rough laugh that sounded more like a growl and made quick work of her jeans, unbuttoning them with quick, deft flicks of his long fingers and then dragging the clinging denim slowly down her hips, thighs, knees and ankles,