Page 53 of Ghosted (The Ravenwood #1)

FORTY-ONE

“Oh my god,” I groan. I’ve never felt this relaxed before in my entire life. I sink further into Dean’s giant jacuzzi tub, the steaming water cloaking me up to my neck. He convinced me to take a bath with him once we were done dancing. I didn’t have it in me to argue with that, so here we are.

He’s eyeing me from the other side of the tub, and somehow his gaze is both sweet and sinful. I close my eyes, savoring the languid lust brewing between us. “I’m glad you’re enjoying this. Other than food, I miss this tub the most,” he says wistfully, tracking a finger along the line of my shin.

I crack open my eyes when I feel his grip firm around my legs, massaging up my calves. I sigh into the simple pleasure of it. He applies deeper pressure as he works his way up to my thighs, digging into the muscle and finding knots I didn’t even know existed. “Turn around,” he asserts quietly.

I lift myself up and turn, draping my arms over the side of the tub, exposing my bare back to him.

The air outside is cool, making me shiver while tendrils of steam float off my skin in languid coils.

His hands slide up and around my back in lazy strokes, coaxing my muscles into relaxation and sending waves of heat between my legs.

“Did I ever tell you how much I love this tattoo?” he asks, tracing a finger down my spine where the phases of the moon are laid out from just below my neck to my mid-back.

I smile sleepily against my crossed arms. “No, but I never told you how much I love your sleeve either, so I think we’re even.”

He glides his hands over my sides and around the front until he’s cupping my breasts, lifting the heavy weight of them.

I inhale slowly with pleasure when his fingers slide over my nipples, slippery with water and the aromatic oils we put in the bath.

“Is this okay?” he asks, tracing a hand slowly down my stomach and between my legs.

“Yes,” I breathe. He leans into me, using the pads of two fingers to trace decadent circles where I need him most.

I open my legs wider, and he nips my earlobe. “Look at you, riding my hand like a good girl.” My eyes flutter at his filthy words, even while my cheeks burn. “Do you want me?” he asks, his hardness nudging my backside.

I lean forward in answer, bowing my back so he has a better angle. He grabs my hip with one hand and guides himself to my entrance with the other. He pauses, so I rock back into him, feeling him slip just barely inside. He tsks, pulling back. “You should know by now, Alderwood. I need your words.”

“Yes, I want you inside of me,” I pant. I can practically feel his smile as he seats himself fully. We both gasp as our thighs slide together. I rock my hips and meet him thrust for thrust, water sloshing against the sides of the tub in waves .

He wraps an arm around my waist and another over my chest, directing me to lean back with him until he’s seated and I’m on his lap.

He’s managed to stay inside me the whole time, and the new position brings a deeper feeling of fullness.

My eyes roll back as he positively surrounds me, guiding my hips the way he wants.

His hands are everywhere—between my legs, over my breasts, possessively against the pulse point at my throat.

I keep the motion going that has me forgetting the world outside this moment exists.

He whispers praise in my ear and against my neck.

“I want you like this all the time for me,” he bites out between clenched teeth.

“Look at us,” he says, chin on my shoulder, looking down at the blurry vision of us beneath the water.

“Feel how good we are together,” he demands, taking my hand and guiding it to where we’re connected.

It’s too much. I feel everything inside me tighten.

“You’re mine, Rae Alderwood. For eternity. ”

He guides our hands to rub against where I’m the most sensitive, and before I can catch my breath, I shatter.

It’s so overwhelming, I let out a string of curses and praises, his name and the promise of forever on my lips over and over.

His thrusts lose their rhythm, and then he speeds up until he shudders with his own release, water sloshing over the edge of the tub.

Eventually, I stand on shaky legs while he drains the tub and gets a towel off the heated rack for me. He wraps me in it, and I feel so exhausted suddenly, I could fall asleep standing up. Dean carefully squeezes my hair with a different towel, wringing the water out like he’s watched me do.

He guides me to his bed, coaxing me to drop the towels and slip beneath the softest sheets I’ve ever laid on. I can barely keep my eyes open, so I don’t. I close them and feel Dean wrap himself around me like a heavy, tingling vine, luring me into a deep sleep.

Buzz. Buzz. I snuggle deeper into Dean’s chest, chasing the dream I was having. I really need to be back on that ship. I was being called a wench, and I was very into it.

Buzz. Buzz. “Rae?”

“Ungh,” I complain, screwing my eyes shut.

“You should probably get that. Whoever it is has called you like three times now,” Dean says.

I sigh grumpily, reaching my bare arm out towards the nightstand where I threw my phone last night.

“Hullo?” I ask, putting the phone up to my ear before I even check who’s calling.

“Rae?” Jack’s voice blasts in my ear.

“Jack, hi.” I sit up, taking the covers with me. “What’s going on?” I ask. I pull my phone away from my ear to see it’s just after 8 A.M on Saturday.

“Remember Amari? The other associate at my firm,” he clarifies.

I put my phone on speaker for Dean’s sake and say, “Yeah. Dean told me a little about him.”

“Well, he just went to the police station last night. I guess Richard had gone to him back in July, asking if he wanted to help him kill Dean.”

“What?” I all but shout.

“Yeah,” Jack bites, the steel in his voice sharp enough to cut, “Amari laughed it off, so Richard pretended it was just a joke. About a week before Dean died, Richard brought it up to Amari again. He said something along the lines of ‘Wouldn’t it be great if Dean were gone? Then we’d have a fair competition for partner. ’”

Anger licks white hot flames up my spine. “Why didn’t he come forward until now? It’s been months!”

Jack sighs long and deep. I hear the clinking of a glass and the splash of what sounds like something being decanted.

Jack takes a drink and replies, “I know. He thought Richard was joking. And when Dean was found dead, it looked like a suicide, so he brushed it off. It wasn’t until Richard got caught with these drugs that Amari realized he was being serious.

He saw that Richard is a shitty person, totally capable of heinous behavior, and his gut told him he needed to come forward. ”

“So, just to confirm, this guy passed the BAR, right? Like, your coworker says, ‘OMG wouldn’t it be so funny if he were dead?’ And then he winds up dead, and you don’t say anything?!” I screech.

“He probably didn’t want to get in trouble, or be looked at as an accomplice,” Jack states, his weariness clear over the line.

“Oh, and I also spoke with my P.I. yesterday. He said the GHB finding in the autopsy was bogus. It definitely should have been a urine sample. But the county coroner has been in practice for decades, so it’s unlikely they could or would do much to prove he intentionally botched the report. ”

I take Dean’s hand in mine and squeeze. He’s worrying me with his faraway look. “So, what now?” I ask.

“I just got off the phone with the detective. We’re in luck because the one who got assigned to this case is a young guy who hopefully hasn’t gotten the chance to get wrapped up in all the corruption.

He’s putting in an order for a search warrant for Richard’s house and is going to try to get it pushed through today so Richard doesn’t have a chance to hide anything. ”

I slowly exhale the breath that had been stuck in my chest. “Okay. I hope they find something.”

“Me too. And listen, Rae, I know you aren’t one to run your mouth, but keep this whole thing between us.

No one knows Amari went to the police, and they want to keep it that way so they can hopefully surprise Richard.

I called mostly so you can update my son, who I’m sure is within arm’s reach as we speak,” Jack says, amusement lightening his tone.

I feel my cheeks redden when Dean laughs a little, muscles bunching in his stomach in a very distracting manner. “You got it,” I quip. “Keep me updated.” We say our goodbyes and end the phone call.

I stand up and stretch, reaching my arms up above my head. Even with the rude wakeup, that’s the best night of sleep I’ve gotten in a long time. Dean’s eyes stay trained on my chest, and I snap my fingers to get his attention.

“What? You thought you could just be naked and sexy in front of me and I wouldn’t look?” he asks incredulously.

“Well, I thought you were kind of used to it by now,” I say, tossing my shirt from last night back over my head.

“I’ll never be used to it, Alderwood. You will always be the best thing to look at in the room.”

“Even when I’m old and saggy?” I ask. It’s something I’ve thought about with the whole tether thing. He’ll stay the same, but I’ll age. One day, I’ll look old enough to be his grandmother.

“Even then,” he says, dimple peeking out. “A beautiful woman is a beautiful woman. Age is but a number. I’m ready for you to be whatever the female equivalent of a silver fox is for me. ”

“Silver vixen?” I supply.

Dean nods his head. “Yup.” He chomps his teeth and winks.

“Well, we have at least a few years until then,” I say.

“You’re not even thirty,” Dean counters with a scoff. “I think we have more than a few years.”

“Whatever. I feel closer to sixty than twenty these days,” I complain. “You’re knocking years off my life.”

“Maybe that’s been my plan all along so I can have you over here sooner,” he says, bouncing his eyebrows. I slip on my sweats and laugh.

“Well, lucky for you, I have something else going on today that takes years off my life,” I say.

“What’s that?” Dean asks, standing and suddenly clad in a casual t-shirt and jeans.

“It’s the second Saturday of the month, which means it’s time for a Main Street Business meeting,” I say with a sigh.

“I fucking hate public speaking. And it’s worse now that my secret is out and everyone knows.

They’re all going to be looking at me.” I shiver, hating the idea of it.

If I could have chosen my Gift, invisibility would have been high on the list.

“Does it help to know that I will also be looking at you?” Dean asks, flitting in front of me.

I tilt my head side to side. “Maybe a little.”

“Good,” he says, leaning in to kiss me so thoroughly, I forget all about my social anxiety.