Right Through Me (The Obsidian Files #1)

This conflict was winding her so tight, she wanted to scream, break something. But that wasn’t going to get her what she came here for. Only Noah could do that.

So often, over the past months, she’d felt trapped in a parallel universe. On another plane, some other free, happy Caro still lived, unaware that her ghost self, this current Caro, was trapped in an alt-world version of her real life. It had crossed her mind, in her darker moments, that maybe she had actually died at Mark’s hands on that terrible night and was now imprisoned in an endless nightmare from which she could not awaken. A disembodied soul who floated around, craving human contact.

The kind only Noah Gallagher could give her. Sensual pleasure beyond her wildest dreams.

But ghosts didn’t have dreams. She must be real. Noah, too.

And he was right over there. Waiting for her.



*



Noah’s fingers dug into the bedcover. It was so hard to sit and watch when he wanted so so badly to seize her.

Blown glass. She was much too tense for self-indulgent macho bullshit. He’d have to coax her to where she needed to be, but she needed him to be strong, too. She responded to that. He’d seen it in her sig. It would be so easy to screw this up.

For now, he’d sit, dick throbbing against his pants with every slow heartbeat while she slowly worked it out in her head.

“Take your clothes off first,” she said. “Then I won’t feel like I’m at such a disadvantage.”

“You already are,” he said bluntly. “It’d be worse if I were stark naked. You’re just going to have to trust me.”

Yes. There it was, that hot glow of hopeful pink and violet, blooming outward from her. Trailing off in transparent wisps.

She wanted to trust him. Wanted it desperately.

“You wouldn’t be here with me if doing this didn’t turn you on.”

“This? Could you be more specific?”

He leaned forward, pinning her with his gaze. “Yes. Strip off your clothes. Or else keep them on and think about how it felt when I made you lose it. Move the way you did, but without me touching you. Touch yourself. I want to watch, and imagine how it’ll feel when you come for me.”

Another pink glow over her chest, this one with the sexy orange sunburst pulsing out of it. Responding to heat with heat.

“Why are you looking at me like that? It feels like you’re reading my mind.”

She’d changed the subject on him. So suddenly. He hadn’t seen that coming.

I am reading your mind. He stopped the words, just in time, startled at the overwhelming impulse to tell her the truth about himself. Just blurt out all of it.

Her sig was doing it to him. She wanted him to read her mind. She wanted to be seen, heard, known. She ached for it.

“I’m figuring you out,” he told her. “I can’t help it. It’s just who I am. I observe, gather data, analyze it. I’m designed for that. With no off switch.”

“How can you analyze data if I don’t give you any?”

“But you do,” he said. “It doesn’t matter if you talk about yourself or not. You tell me about yourself with every word, every move, every blink.”

All at once, she flared so bright, he almost winced. Yes. This was the vein of gold he had to follow.

She couldn’t resist her own curiosity. “Like what? What am I telling you now?”

“You sure you want to play this game?” he asked. “It might take you someplace you aren’t comfortable with.”

“I’m never comfortable,” she said. “Besides, you’re just bluffing.”

OK, bombs away. He took a deep breath. Ramped up his AVP to the max, something he almost never did on purpose, but he was already so turned inside out by his reaction to Caro, it hardly mattered. Fuck it.

“You grew up near Boston,” he said. “I hear the accent, but I don’t hear it very often. You’re pretty good at faking Seattle-speak, though. You’ve made an effort.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “OK. I see where this is going now, and I’m done,” she said. “That’s enough.”

She wasn’t done, though. Not by a long shot. Her colors were going crazy.

He pushed on. “You didn’t grow up rich. Lower middle class, at best.” The look on her face made him quickly add, “Just being objective. I grew up dirt poor myself.”

She looked around his bedroom, dubious. “You? Really?”

“Yes,” he said. “But we’re not talking about me.”

“I don’t want to talk about—”

“You’re alone in the world. No one to turn to.” He hesitated, and added, “Until now.”

She took a slow step back. “Lucky me.”

“You’ve been running for a while,” he went on. “I see it in your eyes. I know that vibe. Constantly on your guard. It wears you down.”

“Oh, please,” she scoffed.

“Want me to stop?”

“Yes. No.”

He went with the last word. “You got involved in something dirty by accident. Someone used you.”

She stiffened with shock.

“Tell me his name, Caro,” he said softly. “I’ll kill him for you.”

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