Free Ghost Stalker by Jenna Kernan Page A

ideas bombarded her. She was with him, could be with him without consequences. She could do anything, they could do anything and he would not recall what had passed between them, because nothing would happen. She wasn’t really here; she was back in the chair, sitting across the room from her patient. He was sleeping soundly, sedated, in his bed.
    “Jessie?”
    She gazed up at him, allowed herself the pleasure of appreciating the rugged cliffs of his cheek and jaw, the sharp nose that descended straight as a ski slope.
    She gazed at his hypnotic blue eyes, husky eyes, wolf eyes, and sighed.
    His lips twitched and then broke into a lazy, seductive smile, as if he knew her thoughts. It was as clear as the deep dimples that marked his cheeks, as clear asthe strong white teeth and the new possessiveness of his grip.
    Once more she stopped to consider, assuring herself that it was safe. He would not know…. No one would.
    Jessie returned the smile. Everything was understood between them. His hand snaked up to cradle the nape of her neck, guiding her into position to receive his kiss.
    She closed her eyes and waited.
    His lips were velvet, soft as a whisper as they swept over hers. He nipped at her bottom lip and she kissed him with all the forbidden frenzy he stirred in her soul.
    The ferocity of her kiss seemed to startle him for he tensed for just an instant and then tightened his hold upon her as he matched her sensual assault. Their tongues slid over one another, strong, lithe muscles stroking their desire.
    He caressed her back, descending to the very base of her spine and then pressing them together at the hips.
    She gasped at the electric energy of their connection and the pulsing ache that grew with each frenzied kiss.
    Jessie drew back to tug away her prim blouse, flipping it inside out as she tossed it away. She wore only a lacy pink bra and jeans. He dipped a finger beneath the waistband, releasing the rivet, stripping her out of the formfitting denim.
    She stood in her bra and panties, waiting impatiently as he drew his T-shirt over his head. He was nearly hairless, which allowed her to appreciate the rippling pectorals, which bunched and corded as he freed himselfof his shirt. He stood still for her perusal. She let her gaze devour him.
    Wide, muscular shoulders, rippling six-pack abs and narrow hips all pleased her. He was virile, predatory and dangerous.
    The type of man she would never consider in her life. He would be too unpredictable, too demanding. She gazed into his hungry eyes. Yes, and too possessive, as well. But here she was safe and free to admit to herself that she wanted to be hunted, possessed and devoured. And Nick looked more than willing to make her fantasy come true.
    He grasped her shoulders and dragged her forward, pressing her to his bare torso. The contact was wonderful and terrible. The warm skin and hard muscle did things to her. Her breasts ached and her nipples contracted into painful buds. She relished the contact but found it lacking. His jeans, her bra, they suddenly seemed the most infuriating of barriers.
    His mouth found her neck, drawing a groan of pleasure from her lips. He worked down the column of her throat, nipping, sucking and kissing his way along, following a scent trail and marking his territory.
    His attention drew the velvety moisture from her, making her grow slick and impatient. He unfastened her bra with a skill that should have given her pause. In other circumstances, she would be jealous of his past lovers, but here, now, she was grateful to be the beneficiary of his experience.
    He kissed the swell at the outer edge of her breast, teasing her by not satisfying her need to feel his hotmouth draw on her. He was not rash or young and showed the maddening control of a skilled athlete.
    His broad hands splayed across her rib cage as he moved circuitously toward his destination. Finally, she could stand it no longer and twisted so as to bring her nipple in contact with