Page 38 of Ghost's Obsession

Ghost nods once. “Always. If I don’t have the answer, I’ll find it for you.”

I tilt my head up to look him in the eyes. “Do you ever need to get out of your own head?” I ask. “Like, just do something to take your mind off everything?”

His eyes don’t leave mine. “Yeah. All the time.”

My heart flutters in my chest. “Would you like for us to help each other do that, tonight?”

He stills completely and his gaze turns heated. “Are you sure that you want to have sex with me?”

I nod. I can’t think of anything I want more right now.

Ghost doesn’t speak. He just cups my cheek again like he did before. His palm is rough and warm. His thumb caresses my skin like touching me too hard might injure me. But I don’t feel scared of his muscles or strength. I feel loved, cherished, and protected.

Then he leans in and kisses me. Not softly. I don’t think Ghost even knows how to kiss softly. His lips are rough, insistent, demanding even. It feels like he’s been holding back and finally decided not to anymore.

After a few seconds, his mouth slants more fully over mine. From the start, there’s nothing gentle about it. I don’t want it to be gentle. I want him—his strength, his weight, his heart. The kiss pushes any lingering anxiety out of me and replaces it with fire.

My hands find his shoulders, and my fingers flex against solid muscle. I open my mouth more fully, letting him take more. His tongue slides against mine. I moan quietly into his mouth before I even realize I’m doing it.

When we finally break apart, I’m breathless. My lips are tingling. And my chest is rising and falling too fast.

“You sure you want what I have to offer, sweetheart?” he asks again, voice thick with need.

“Yes. If I hadn’t been sure before, you’ve totally convinced me.”

His lips twitch in something close to a smile, but it’s dark, possessive. “Then lie back.”

I do as he says. My back sinks into his bed, and he moves over me, one knee pressing between mine as he settles above me. His hands skim down my sides. I feel his callused fingers slip under the hem of my shirt.

His eyes never leave mine as he pushes my shirt up. I know he’s on guard for any sign that I want him to stop, that I’ve changed my mind. He doesn’t get anything of the sort from me because I want this more than I want my next breath.

He pulls the shirt over my head, tosses it aside, and looks down at me like I’m the most beautiful thing in his world.

“Fuckin’ hell, Heather,” he says. “You’re beautiful.”

I reach for him and pull him back down for another kiss because this sexy biker has convinced me that we’re making a good decision here.

Ghost kisses me again, slower this time. His tongue delves deeper. I melt into it, letting my hands roam across the hard lines of his chest. Every inch of him feels like tension and heat. I trace one of his tattoos with my fingertips, following the black ink over his ribs, and he shudders slightly under my touch.

“You okay?” he murmurs against my lips.

“I just love everything about being with you,” I say.

His eyes flick to mine. “Like what?”

“The way you kiss,” I tell him quietly. “The way you touch me, take your time.”

His thumb strokes the curve of my waist. “We don’t have to rush it.”

“I don’t want to,” I say. “I just needed to say it out loud. This feels different, better than anything I’ve ever known before.”

His gaze doesn’t waver. “It’s different for me too.”

That settles something between us. It gives me a sense of peace that I didn’t know I needed.

I sit up a little and reach for the hem of his shirt. He lifts his arms without a word, and I pull it off, dropping it to the floor beside the bed. And then I just look at him. His chest is broad and solid, layered in tattoos and scars. My hands find the edge of one just below his collarbone and trace it slowly.

He lets me explore, seemingly proud of his muscles and tattoos.

---