He pushed up off the bed to help her. “When you called me an ineffectual moron with the teaching skills of a single-celled organism?"
Her nimble hands got his belt open and tugged at the button on his jeans. “I wasn't red because I was angry. You were wearing that f**king tight little T-shirt.” Her fingers dragged the zipper down, over the aching bulge of his cock. “I kept thinking about f**king you. Riding you on the floor of my office or bending over the desk and begging you to take me."
"So you yelled at me and called me names.” He rolled away and kicked at his boots, then swore and sat up. “Why didn't you just tell me?"
She cursed slightly behind him. When he glanced back, he found her trying to wiggle out of the tangled straps of her bra. “Because we work together, and I'd just gotten dumped. Rebounding on the hot guy in the office who is my biggest damn rival seemed stupid."
His boots hit the floor, and he tore off his socks. “Right. Better to make me miserable every chance you got.” He stripped off the rest of his clothes and reached out to help her. In seconds, she was na**d, too. He lay back on the bed and pulled her on top of him. “That's brilliant."
Sara braced her hands on his chest to catch her balance and stared down at him through the disheveled fall of her hair. The heat hadn't faded from her eyes, but something else overshadowed it—vulnerability. “Fine, you want the truth? I thought you'd laugh at me."
His heart thumped painfully. “You what?"
"You're the hottest man in the department,” she whispered. “Every woman wants you. Why would you be interested in me?"
He grasped her h*ps and arched up against her, groaning when her wet cunt slicked over his cock. “I'm pretty damn interested in you, Sara.” She shivered, and he did it again. “I would have done it, you know."
"Y-you would have?” She lifted her h*ps a little, trying to draw him into her body. “I thought you hated me."
One small movement and a quick flex of his h*ps brought him inside her, and he clenched his jaw for a moment as heat shivered through him. “N-No. But you seemed—"
Her moan cut him off, low and needy as she lowered her body and took him fully into her. She was just as hot and tight as he'd imagined, maybe more so. She rocked down once, grinding her h*ps into his, and when she moaned again it was his name. “I-I might come again."
He pulled her down against him and held her still. “Not yet. Let me come with you."
Sara whimpered and writhed in his grasp, her expression one of slack pleasure and need so intense it made him breathless. Her hands moved to his arms and she clung to him as she gasped for breath. “Feels—you feel so good—"
"Like this,” he whispered roughly, guiding her h*ps in a slow roll. She rippled around his cock, and he bit the inside of his cheek. “Fuck."
"I-I can't stop.” Her eyes found his. “I'm going to come, Reed. I'm going to—God, just f**k me, please—please—"
He arched up, thrusting as hard as he could. At the same time, he moved his hand to press his thumb against her clit.
Her reaction nearly undid him. Her back bowed and she ground down against him, pressing her h*ps into his hand as she moaned. Her moan changed to a whimper, high pitched and breathless, and then he got to feel one of those delicious orgasms as she came again, this time with his c*ck buried inside her.
"Dammit.” He could feel the beginnings of his own release, a white-hot cascade of pleasure shivering up his spine. Incredibly, it didn't stop, just kept on as he gripped her h*ps and thrust harder. “Sara—"
"R-Reed—” She swayed above him, still making those choked whimpering noises, and he swore she came again. “Fuck—f**k it just—it isn't stopping."
She threw back her head with another hoarse cry, and her cunt convulsed around his cock, dragged his pleasure higher. He rolled over, bringing her under him, and braced his arms by her head. His control fled, and he drove into her. She shuddered again, and the sustained bliss ignited, dulling every sense not focused on Sara and sweeping him away with a hoarse shout.
Her soft moans filled the air, filled his ears as the world faded away. Being inside of her was perfect, especially when he stilled and felt her trembling arms wrap around his body. His name fell from her lips, hoarse and hazy from pleasure, and he shuddered when the aftershocks of her final cl**ax rippled through them.
"Oh—oh God—"
He couldn't manage to raise his head, so his words were muffled by her damp hair and skin. “What the f**k was that?"
"I-I don't—” She turned her head, and her lips tickled against his cheek. “Either something weird just happened, or I have been doing this very, very wrong my whole life."
He panted for breath. “Ditto. I'm pretty sure what just happened isn't physically probable. For me, anyway."
Her arms tightened a little and he shivered when her fingers brushed against his lower back. Then she froze. “Jesus Christ. I just f**ked you in the middle of a house I'm supposed to be investigating.” She sounded disturbed, alarmed even, but she didn't release him. “II don't think that's normal."
"For you, probably not.” Not for him, either. Not usually, anyway, but he was willing to allow that Sara might have been an exception in any case. “You're too uppity."
She let out a little laughing groan. “I am. So why can't I let go of you?"
"Excellent question. Maybe I'm just that damn good."
Sara didn't answer, but another voice did. “You are quite good. I'm rather impressed myself, and I wager I've been around a lot longer than she has."
Reed sprang up, tearing at the bedspread in an effort to cover Sara. “What the hell?” A dark-haired woman stood by the window, her diaphanous white gown barely brushing the floor. “Let me guess."
He'd expected Sara to look at him blankly, or panic. He hadn't expected her head to whip to the side, her gaze going directly to the ghost in the corner. “Holy shit."
"You can see her, Sara?” he asked tightly, not taking his eyes off of the newcomer.
She sat up, apparently having completely forgotten that she was na**d. Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. “I—am I—is that a—"
The ghost laughed. “She's prettier than she is bright, isn't she?"
"You're her first manifestation,” Reed countered. “Cut her some slack."
Sara's mouth snapped shut and she turned that wide-eyed shocked look on him. “Did a ghost just insult me?"
"Yeah. She seems a little crabby.” He studied the spirit. “Celestina Montera, right?"
The ghost spread her voluminous skirts and dropped a proper curtsey. “The pleasure is all mine. Well ... mostly mine.” Celestina winked at Sara. “Lucky girl."
Sara seemed to suddenly recall her state of undress. She yanked the bedspread back up to cover her body, her cheeks flaming.
"Terrific.” Reed rubbed the heels of his hands over his eyes. “Did you enjoy the floor show? Is peeping your thing?"
"Quite the contrary.” She drifted over and lifted her skirts so that she could poke at the fallen DVR with one slipper-clad foot. “I'm only here because of you. With the sexual energy the two of you released ... Well, suffice it to say I wouldn't be surprised if every ghost on the block got a bit of a jolt."
"Or maybe just the pervy ones,” Reed suggested, willing himself not to flush.
"Pervy?” She tilted her head to the side. “You find sex perverted? You are rather enthusiastic about it for someone who finds it unappealing."
He snorted. “Sex isn't perverted. Peeping is."
Sara shifted beside him, rose to her knees and crept forward a little. “Are you really Celestina Montera?"
The woman frowned and sat on the end of the bed. “No. Is that what you wish to hear? That I'm an impostor? An actress, perhaps?"
"It would be more logical,” Sara acknowledged as she inched toward the edge of the bed. “I can't see ghosts. My magical powers are practically nonexistent.” She spoke those last words with the same edge of pain Reed had heard in the car.
Celestina snorted, an oddly inelegant sound. “I would venture to say most people could see me right now. I feel rather ... fully charged.” She winked at Reed. “Too bad you broke what I can only presume is a camera. I might be devastatingly photogenic at the moment."
"I have another one—” Sara found her shirt and tugged it over her head then rose to her feet. “Don't—don't go anywhere."
She was gone before Reed could say another word.
Celestina tilted her head to the side. “She's enthusiastic. I'm not sure she has her priorities completely in order, though."
He shrugged. “Sara's into quantifying things. I probably would be, too, if I didn't have a fair bit of inside information."
Her gaze drifted over him, lusty and approving. “I can only think of one thing she should be concerned with quantifying at the moment, and it isn't me, darling. Perhaps you should try a second time."
Reed cleared his throat and ignored her admiring stare. “Or maybe you had something to do with the first time?” he prompted. “C'mon, Celestina. Spill. Did you lay the whammy on us?"
"Oh, maybe a little,” she said in a cheerful voice. “Only at the end though. It wouldn't have been so easy if you hadn't already wanted to touch each other in such a delightfully naughty fashion, though. Surely that can't have been the first time?"
It was none of her business, and he told her so. “Isn't your curiosity a little inappropriate?"
She tilted her head to the side as if he'd asked an odd question. “Do you think I get many visitors? I should think I've earned the right to be curious about whatever I like."