Page 38 of The Other One

“We’re more than halfway done but suit yourself.” He takes the money, and I go back to Abigail as he resumes the walk.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we’ll be heading to the Unitarian Cemetery for our final destination. The cemetery is believed to be home to the ghost of Annabel Lee, the lost love of Edgar Allan Poe. It’s believed that she appears to visitors next to her unmarked grave.” The guide goes further into the tragic tale of young Annabel and her death.

The overgrown foliage of the cemetery lends to the creepy factor enough so that nervous anticipation at what we might encounter runs through my body. Not that I would admit that out loud.

Abigail must see the apprehension on my face. “Are you scared of ghosts, Jackson?” Her incredulous tone doesn’t go unnoticed, and I narrow my eyes in her direction.

The guide continues with his speech about the lady in white, thought to be the ghost of Lavinia Fisher, the first female serial killer.

“Oh, come on,” I begin. “I know you have brass balls and all, but this doesn’t creep you out in the slightest? I don’t know about you, but I can go my whole life without meeting the ghost of a serial killer.”

Abigail laughs at me and links her arm through mine, pulling me tightly to her side. “Don’t worry, honey, I’ll protect you.” She shakes her head, and we continue following the small group until we make it out of the cemetery and the tour guide lets us know we’ve reached the end. We hear a couple people grumble that they didn’t get to see anything. Personally, I’m not disappointed in that fact.

We part ways with the guide and make our way back to the hotel. Abigail’s lips are pressed tightly together like she’s holding back her laughter, and she keeps glancing at me out of the corner of her eye.

“Out with it,” I tell her.

Laughter bursts from her, and she stops on the sidewalk for a moment, putting her hand to her chest as she tries to catch her breath.

“Sorry,” she exclaims, waving her hand in front of me. “It’s just that it was your idea, and I swear to God, at one point, I thought I was going to have to hold you upright if you fainted,” she wheezes out, laughing some more at my expense, but quickly composes herself. At least she tries to. “If you’re afraid of ghosts, why did you suggest we go on a ghost tour?” For this right here. To make her smile and laugh. I don’t care that it’s at my expense, just seeing her happy is why I’ve been doing a lot of things on this trip.

I shrug my shoulders. “It sounded like a good idea at the time.” I grab her hand as we continue our walk back to the hotel. “And for your information, I was only holding on to you so tightly so that you wouldn’t trip in your heels. There was never a chance of me fainting.”

Another laugh escapes her. “Keep telling yourself that. I’m sure you’ll somehow figure out a way to regain your manhood.” More laughter falls from her lips as we make our way into the hotel lobby toward the elevator.

Stepping inside, I’m overcome with the need to taste her laughter. I might get shut down, but she did just insult my manhood. If I don’t try, I’ll never gain any footing with her.

When the doors close to the elevator, I grab her hand and pull her in front of me, spinning us so her back is against the wall. Her hands go to my chest and mine cup her cheeks.

“What are you doing?” she whispers as I bring my face just an inch from hers. Her eyes are hooded and darkened with lust.

“Proving my manhood.” I crash my lips to hers, and to my surprise, she doesn’t fight her desire like she has so many times before. Her hand travels up my chest and loops around my neck, pulling me tighter into her kiss. Running my hands down her back and over her ass, I pull her harder into my thickening erection. Abigail moans at the feeling and lifts her thigh around my hip, rubbing herself over the bulge in my pants.

I break the kiss to trail my mouth down the smooth skin of her neck as we grind against each other.

“That’s it, baby. Do you want me to get you off just like this, with you rubbing yourself all over me?” Her answering moan has the rest of the blood in my head running south, making me almost light-headed with a desperate need to be inside her. It’s been too long, and her lips are too damn delicious to think about anything other than the feel of her body writhing against mine.

The elevator doors open on our floor, and I’m momentarily worried that the interruption will bring Abigail back to her senses and all the reasons she’s so determined to not sleep with me again. She pushes me back, and I think this is the moment she tells me it won’t go any further.

Turning to me with a wicked glint in her eye, she holds the elevator door open. “You coming?”

I tip my lip up in a half smile. “Lead the way, Red.”

Chapter 15

Abigail

Imakelongstridestoward the door, Jackson following close behind. When we reach the hotel room, I dig through my purse for the key as he swipes my hair to the side, running his nose along the column of my neck, breathing me in.

“Fuck, Abigail. You smell delicious. I’m going to taste every inch of your skin just as soon as you get that damn door open.” His voice is gravelly and delicious, sending shocks from my neck to my core.

I laugh a little at his impatient growl as I search for the room key.

“Dammit, woman, hurry up.” He nips my earlobe while one of his hands slips inside my dress, caressing the underside of my breast. God, that feels so good I almost lose track of what I’m doing. When he plucks a sensitive nipple with his long finger, I’m shot back to reality.

“You’re distracting me,” I complain weakly.

“I would say I’m sorry, but we both know it would be a lie,” he whispers in my ear.

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