Out of Body

Chapter 30

When Gray’s phone had rung, just after Marley left to see her uncle, the last person he had expected to hear was Sidney Fournier. They had talked briefly—she had done all the talking, or the ordering—for a few minutes, before she had lowered her voice and said she had to go.

Other than to tell him she wanted them to get together where they would definitely not be interrupted, she had refused to explain why they should meet tonight at Myrtle Wood, one of the smaller River Road plantation houses.

He thought it was pointless drama to go to such lengths, but had agreed. The possibility that he might finally get a useful lead on Liza and Amber gave him hope.

As soon as Marley left him to go to Pascal’s, he had used her shower, given up on doing anything about looking like a wild-haired pirate, and tucked himself back into her bed. He hoped she would return alone, but if not, he was a big boy and he’d think of something to say—like, “I was just testing the mattress.”

He snickered.

The front door opened and racing toenails sounded like an army of rats on a rampage.

The bedroom door flew open and Winnie charged in, her giant bone clenched between her teeth.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Gray said to Marley. He glanced at Winnie. “Your dog’s frowning.”

“Probably at you,” she said.

“I like your topknot.”

She felt the crazy pom-pom on top of her head and turned up her palms. “Everyone should have a distinguishing feature.”

Winnie jumped on a chair, and from there onto the bed. She drooled slightly around the chew.

Gray did his own frowning. “The dog’s on the bed,” he said.

“I’ve always admired an observant man,” Marley said. “It’s her bed, too.”

“I’m waiting for you,” Gray said. “We weren’t finished.”

“You must be a masochist.”

“There’s pain, and then there’s pain,” he told her. “I figure the more I practice pain control the better I’ll get at it.”

She narrowed her lovely eyes. “Just what does that mean?”

Gray could tell when he was entering deep water. “Sit right here by me.” He patted the bed beside him.

Promptly, Winnie placed herself where he’d indicated and panted, working on the bone.

It wasn’t easy, but Gray kept the smile on his face and patted the other side of the bed. “Come on. I want to talk.”

The look she gave him suggested she thought he had something other than talk in mind.

Winnie hopped clean over him and settled in what was to have been Marley’s new spot—really close to Gray.

She smiled as if she was very amused. But she also took off the yellow sweatsuit in about two rapid motions, ran, took a leap and landed on the bed beside him, kneeling so she was all sweet curves in her skimpy bra and panties.

Winnie crossed his body again, planting her feet hard on some of his unprotected parts as she went.

Gray winced and said, “Ow, ow, ow,” but the dog looked smug and put herself between him and Marley.

“I’ve just seen my father,” Marley said, and Gray thought her expression was one of the oddest he’d seen. She appeared amazed, disbelieving, a little bit sleepy and a lot cross. “First time in fifteen years.”

He sat up, letting the sheet fall to his hips and making no attempt to hike it up. “Is that right? I thought I was the only fatherless child around here.” Damn, his mouth never got that loose. It had to be her effect on him. “I meant motherless.”

“I was talking about fathers,” Marley said, inching a little closer.

He stroked her thigh and played his fingertips in the dip just beneath the leg of her panties. She jumped. But so did he.

“I met your dad,” she said. “He hasn’t been away, has he?”

“Nope. He’s been right here in New Orleans. And whenever I needed him, he was there for me.”

“That sounds nice.”

“It is.” He scratched Winnie between the ears. “Gus adopted me when I was eight. I was a lucky kid. I’m glad you got to visit with your dad today.”

“I’m not sure I am.”

He could see she wanted to ask more about his own history, but was too polite to push. He’d tell her more eventually—if he had to.

Marley flattened a hand low on his belly and stroked back and forth. She shuddered and half closed her eyes. Gray’s gut turned to fire and he was a man with a body on full alert.

“What did you mean about pain control?”

He needed a tongue transplant. “I should probably have said pain management. The way to manage this wonderful pain of ours is through immersion therapy—translate that into pain management.”

“Is it too much for you? Be honest, please.”

He hesitated. Winnie stood up, watching first one of their faces, then the other.

“Marley, if I can’t have you, why bother?” he said, watching every word, aware of how easy a pitfall would be. “There’s no way I could be satisfied with less. Could I kiss you before I go crazy?”

“Just a minute,” she said. “We—my family—has something called a Bonding. It’s when one of us meets the right person to share…sex with. We tell if it’s happening by the heightened senses. But it can be pretty overwhelming.”

He nodded sagely. “I am so lucky. And I’m so ready to be overwhelmed with you.”

She frowned as if there was more she wanted to say, but kissed him instead. She leaned over him, pushing him down and slipping her tongue between his lips.

Gray began to stroke her all over. He liked the bra and panties. They were a special kind of sexy—forbidden, maybe. When he looked sideways, it was into Winnie’s shiny black eyes.

“Sweet lady,” he said. “Maybe Winnie could go take a nap somewhere.”

Marley laughed. “Off, Winnie. And wait.”

Apparently that meant the dog did just that. She got off the bed and waited beside it. Gray could imagine her upturned face ready for the signal that she could return.

He forgot the dog.

Marley stood on the mattress. She laughed down at him and bent forward at the waist so that her breasts all but slipped from the bra. He reached up for her, but she shook her body from side to side, evading him.

“Oh, baby, come on down,” he said.

“Wait.” She put a foot on his stomach, balanced herself with outstretched arms and slowly moved her toes until she tangled with hair around the base of his penis. That was one thing he couldn’t subdue, and didn’t want to.

Marley ogled him. “Oh, my, I think I should be scared.”

Then her face softened again, and Gray couldn’t find any more smart quips.

She unhooked the bra and tossed it on the floor, and then she took him completely by surprise and settled a knee on either of his shoulders. Curling over, she passed her breasts across his lips and gasped each time his tongue and teeth caught a nipple.

A thumb slipped inside her panties, slid easily where he got the most response for very little effort and he felt he could go mad when she climaxed.

With her mouth, Marley drew him to the brink, all the time rubbing him and murmuring, but when he knew he couldn’t hold on another second, she spun around, pulled off her panties and guided him into her.

They made love with him lying over her back and holding her breasts. Every stroke was raw bliss. He climbed to a pinnacle of aching awareness and just when he would have begged for mercy, he emptied himself and they rocked until they fell, spooned together and damp all over.

There was something he wanted to tell her. He parted his lips on the back of her neck where her hair rested in damp curls. “Marley?”

“Mmm?”

It was way too soon. Everything about the two of them was too fast and too soon. If he said what he’d like to, she might bolt and he couldn’t bear that. “You’re really something,” he said.

“Only with you,” she said. “Only ever with you.”

He liked the sound of that. It wasn’t enough, though.

His phone vibrated on the bedside table. “Ignore that,” he said.

“It could be Gus looking for you.”

Gray closed his eyes. There wasn’t anything about the woman that he didn’t like—except having her dog in bed with them.

“Okay,” he said, sitting up. He had a text message. “Text message from Nat Archer,” he said. “It can wait.”

She rolled over, pushing hair from her eyes. “Find out what he wants. Just in case.”

The message was, Call me. Trouble just got bigger.

He showed it to Marley who pushed at her pillows and sat up beside him.

Gray called Nat. “Okay, buddy. Let’s have it.”

“Shirley Cooper sang with a street band when she wasn’t working as a maid at that club.”

“Yeah?” Gray massaged his temples. “Another singer after all.”

“And Pearl Brite isn’t a brand name. It’s the name of another missing singer. This one rode a bike to work at Alexander’s.”