Jill Shalvis - Out of This World

A sticky-note program suddenly opened, and a pop-up sticky appeared in a pretty pink color and fancy font:

Did you really think it’d be that easy?

Stunned, I sat back, staring at the computer screen. “She knew. Whatever’s going on here, Gertrude knew all about it.”

“Strange family you’ve got, Rach.”

“Tell me.” I chewed on my lip for a moment, considering. My great-great-aunt Gertrude had always been a loner. I could remember my mother sighing in frustration when another invitation to a family gathering was politely declined.

“Just as well,” my mother had always said. “She’s too looney to mainstream.”

“Looney how?” I’d asked on any number of occasions.

“We don’t discuss it,” my mother had always replied. “Let’s just say she thinks she can…do things.”

I had to wonder what things. Like see through stuff? Like using superhuman strength? I picked up the Blackberry and turned it on.

“Check her calendar for the entries before she died,” Kellan said.

Not surprisingly though, her social engagements were nonexistent. She’d kept track of her grocery list, and of requested supplies, of the number of guests going in and out-

“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” Kellan asked over my shoulder.

I looked at the entries again. “What?”

Reaching his arms around me, he took possession of the Blackberry, pointing out the Fridays of the last month. “Each has a star.”

“So?”

“So yesterday was Friday. What happens on Fridays that would warrant starred entries?”

We looked at each other.

“The swap,” I whispered.

“And there are dots on Sundays. Fuck.” He shoved his fingers through his hair. “What’s going to happen tomorrow?”

I got up, went to the bottom file drawer and pulled out the whiskey. We each drank two fingers straight from the bottle.

“Jesus,” Kel said, blowing out a breath. “Strong stuff.”

I could have used two more fingers. “Kel?”

He’d gone back to fiddling with the Blackberry. “Yeah?”

“Let’s get the hell out of Dodge.”

He looked up, grimaced at the fear that had to be written all over my face and pulled me in for a hug that felt more real than anything had since…since he’d kissed me. Burrowing in tightly, I closed my eyes and just held on. “I mean, maybe we could hike out of here.”

“Rach, it’s too far.”

On the other side of the closet, door someone rattled the handle.

Kellan set me aside and quickly moved through the clothes in the closet, putting his hand on the door handle, holding the door shut. With his other hand, he lifted a finger to his mouth, signaling me to be quiet.

Marilee had just walked in, not concerned with being seen. Whoever this was clearly didn’t want to be seen.

I put both my hands over my mouth and concentrated on breathing. We watched the handle turn from side to side as someone very quietly tried to come in.

Kellan kept his hold, his T-shirt stretching at the shoulders, his jeans falling off his narrow hips, his hair wild as always, easily preventing the door from opening in such a way that the person on the other side of it probably imagined it was a jammed lock.

“Who’s there?” Kellan mouthed to me

I focused on the wood, and gasped. “Serena and William,” I mouthed back.

Kellan blinked. He hadn’t expected that, and truthfully, neither had I. What would two guests want in Gertrude’s secret office?

And, if they’d never been here before, how did they even know this office existed?

On the other side of the door, the two of them looked at each other, shrugged and walked away.

“They’re gone,” I whispered.

Kellan came out of the closet, looking lean and rangy and spoiling for a fight. “I want to know what the hell is going on.” He paced the small office, which meant he could stride two whole steps before having to whip around and repeat the process. Tension and grimness rolled off his broad shoulders, and so did unused adrenaline.

I stood, and stepped into his path. “Hey.”

He didn’t look at me, so I held on when he started to stalk past me. “Hey.”

He wasn’t happy when his gaze met mine. Not even close. “What?”

“Maybe we’re keeping the new abilities. You ever think of that?”

“What? No.” He thrust his fingers into his hair, making it stand straight up. “I am not putting my hand through doors for the rest of my life, or worrying about how I touch things for fear of breaking them. Jesus, Rach.” He looked me straight in the eyes, letting his own worry show, and behind that, the fierceness of his desire for me, and something deep inside me physically ached.

“What?” I whispered. “What is it?”

He looked away, then back. His jaw tightened. “What if I accidentally hurt you?”

There was an actual tremor in his voice, and in tune with it, my heart quivered. “You wouldn’t,” I said softly, shaken by his fear.

“I’m not thrilled with any of this shit. I’m not.”

I was beginning to see that. I just didn’t know what to do about it, or about another, new revelation I had. “Truth or dare?” I whispered.

“What? Rach-”

“Pick one.”

He sighed. “Truth.”

“Okay, here’s my truth. I really like the Kel you are, right here, right now. So much that that scares me more than anything that’s happened to us so far.”

He stared at me for a long beat, then turned away. “I’m different here.”

“Kel, you have the same heart.” I put my hands on his arms and tried to turn him back to face me. I say tried because the guy dug in his heels and was nearly impossible to budge. Only when I made a sound of frustration did he allow me to turn him. “I want you,” I whispered. “You, Kel.”

His baby blues met mine, and I let him see everything I was feeling. With a groan, he dropped his forehead to mine, his broad shoulders eclipsing the light so that it was just him and me and nothing else.

His hands came up and gripped my waist, not pulling me in, but not pushing me away either. His eyes were stubborn, but softening, as he just looked at me.

“This thing between us is temporary,” he said, in the old refrain.

“How do you know?”

“Your own motto, Rach. Nothing good lasts forever. Remember?”

I stared at him. “I remember,” I whispered, wishing I didn’t, wishing that I’d never believed such a thing. But I did…“I want this to be different. God, I wish this could be different. Just this one thing.”

He closed his eyes, then opened them again. “Don’t you dare regret this,” he said fiercely, his hands already gliding down my back, cupping my butt, pulling me close so that I could feel his reaction, at which it was impossible to hold back my sigh of pleasure.

“Love that sound,” he murmured, and lifted his head, noting the desk behind him. Turning me, he used his body to press me back against it, those eyes darkening with things that made my belly quiver.

Other things quivered, too, and I bit my lower lip. “Are we going to…”

“Up.” Then he lifted me, plopping me down on the desk.

I could tell myself he was the same guy I’d always known, the slightly goofy, always sweet, unfailingly steady Kellan, but the evidence told me otherwise. The old Kel wasn’t this bold, this daring, this sexually sure of himself.

And God help me, I liked this bold, daring, sexually-sure-of himself Kel.

Very much.

In fact, I could hardly breathe, I liked him so much.

“Here, Kel?”

Reaching around me, he swiped a hand across the surface of the desk, knocking the telephone, files and paperwork all to the floor in one motion, then looked at me, silent, letting me draw my own conclusion.

Oh. My. “Okay, here,” I said shakily.

He pulled off one of my tennis shoes, tossed it over my shoulder.

“Hurry,” I whispered.

His eyes cut to mine as he gave the other shoe the same treatment.

“So you like it when I completely lose it?”

I liked it so much, I couldn’t speak. I think I managed a nod.

“Yeah? Then try this.” Putting a hand on each of my thighs, he nudged them open, then stepped between so that I couldn’t close them.

He’d turned into every badass I’d ever fantasized about. “Um. Kel? Now?”

He pulled off my sweatshirt.

I couldn’t breathe. “Are you going to say anything at all?”

“Now.”

The air stuck in my throat, and a shiver of thrill raced down my spine, as I gripped the desk on either side of my hips for dear life.

Kel reached for the hem of my camisole. “Arms,” he said in a gruff whisper.

I lifted my hands up and felt my breasts spring free as he pulled off the shirt. His gaze was still holding mine, but then he let it drop, drinking in his fill of me with a sigh of pleasure so real, so deep, that I felt the answering tug in my womb.

His fingers went to the waistband of my pj bottoms.

“Um,” I said, momentarily sidetracked by the thought of being bare-ass naked to his fully clothed self, but he didn’t give me much time to dwell on this, because he slowly but firmly began to tugg my pj bottoms down over my hips.

“Um-”

“You already said that.”

Another tug had the pj’s to my thighs.

Then to my knees…

I was wearing a smiley-face thong with lace trim that made him go utterly still for a beat.

“Oh man,” he groaned, and abandoned my pj’s, dangling off one ankle, to trace a finger over the lace. “You take my breath. Every single time.”

“There’s been only one time.”

“Every single time I look at you.”

I stared down at his bent head, a little stunned by this revelation. “Kel-”

But he surged up and kissed me, long and wet and deep, and that, combined with his questing finger, drained any thoughts right out of my head.