Intimate Whispers (2 page)

The man backed away, his eyes wide. “You get out of here now. Come back when you’re ready to buy something.”

“Sabrina?”

Someone who knew her name?

Oh please. Help me.

* * * * *

Jason came to a halt at the end of the aisle. He thought he recognized his neighbor standing several feet away with a store employee, so he stopped long enough to offer a tentative wave.

Except she hadn’t noticed him. Kind of like every other time they passed.

Beside him, Kelly asked, “Do you know her?”

He glanced at the petite blonde. “Yeah.”

Except he didn’t know her. Not really. He knew her name simply because he’d tried to do the neighborly thing when he first moved in and introduced himself to the other three tenants on the floor. Hers had been the last stop. When the pixie-like woman with amazing hazel-colored eyes looked up at him, his concentration waned just a bit.

Observing those eyes next to smooth, caramel-colored skin always resulted in a double-take. Every single time.

Sabrina was stunning. Dark, wavy hair framed her heart-shaped face. Her full lips parted in an easy smile after he explained why he was there. Not quite plump, but with a little more meat on her bones than he normally preferred, something about her curves made him wonder, just for an instant, what her clothing might hide.

“Sabrina?” He sidled up to the store employee, shaking off irritation at the man’s aloof and disgusted manner. He’d heard the rumors about her, but with a brother who’d had his own mental health problems, Jason found the compassion he wished others had shown Teddy. “Hey, remember me?”

She held something in trembling hands. A package of food. If she had any recollection of him right now, nothing in her wide-eyed, blank expression reassured him.

“I can’t help.” She spoke with such sadness, his heart clenched.

Taking a step closer, he asked, “Who can’t you help?” 8

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He and Kelly were both dressed for dinner and the theater. Kelly’s heels clicked against the linoleum as she also moved closer. “Sabrina, I’m Kelly. Can we help you with something instead?”

Jason studied her a little better and realized something haunted Sabrina. The fear in her eyes had nothing to do with the people standing in front of her. There was real, perhaps irrational, fear there.

So the rumors might have a ring of truth to them after all.

She lifted her eyes, the motion reminiscent of a silent prayer. They flittered closed a moment later. She shook her head from side to side, dark tresses shifting with the movement. The box of cereal slipped from her hand, falling to the ground with a soft thud, breaking the silence. When she opened her eyes again, unshed tears filled them.

She looked directly at Jason and he thought for a split second she might have recognized him after all, but then the spark vanished. “I want to go home.”

“Sure, Sabrina.” He glanced at Kelly, who nodded. “I’ll take you home.” Saying those words sounded incredibly right. But that made no sense. He didn’t know his neighbor from Adam. Their relationship thus far consisted of tossing out pleasantries as they passed in the hall or elevator. On top of that, he had dated Kelly within the past year and like a man who planned on keeping his balls, never once thought of glancing at the opposite sex while in her presence.

And face it, with his Wonder bread upbringing, acknowledging even physical attraction to a black woman never occurred to him. His father would give birth to a dozen kittens if he caught wind of it. Make that two dozen.

“I need him. Please.”

Jason gently took her elbow and started guiding her forward. “Who? Your husband?”

Was she married? He didn’t think so. He’d never seen her in the presence of a male.

Maybe a visiting father or a brother, though?

Welcome to the new America where no one knew their neighbors. A hundred or so strangers on the Internet, yes, but a person would be considered odd knowing the name of the person across the hall.

“He’ll help— I can’t help you!” She drew back, startled. Tears that hadn’t fallen before streamed down her face.

Jason reached for her again. “Whoa, Sabrina, I’ve got you. You don’t need to help anyone.”

“Is this safe?” Kelly whispered as they started moving forward as one. Behind them, he heard the store clerk mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like

“good riddance”. Bastard.

He nodded. He didn’t know for certain if she suffered from paranoia or delusions or what, but he would see her home. What someone hadn’t been kind enough to do for Teddy, he’d do for her.

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Sabrina trembled beneath his hand. When he pulled her closer, wrapping around her in a tight hug, she molded against him. A gentle perfume, one he recognized from a high-end department store he frequented, wafted up. He focused on it, letting it be the target of his attention instead of the incredible rightness of her body folded against his during the cab ride. What the hell was it about this woman that sent his emotions on a joyride? He didn’t know her. Yet Kelly, who often hinted at reconciliation, sat on his opposite side and almost might as well not have been there.

After they all exited, Kelly paid the driver as he escorted Sabrina inside. She no longer trembled and her tears had long-since dried. Soft sounds, little whimpers, slipped through her parted lips, but at least whatever haunted her a few minutes ago appeared to have eased its attack.

He tucked away a mental note to check up on her again tomorrow, after the mysterious “he” had helped. She never did answer his questions, no matter how Jason phrased them or how softly he spoke.

They stopped in front of her apartment, and he heard Kelly’s muffled steps against the carpeted floor as she hurried to catch up. Keys jangled when Sabrina dropped them, falling into a tidy heap. He scooped them up, withdrew the one that looked similar to his and inserted it into the lock. The tumbler disengaged and with Sabrina still balanced in his embrace, he managed to get the door open.

Seeing the inside of her home was all she needed. She lurched forward, leaving him behind without a backward glance. “Hey,” he called into the closing gap. “Are you going to be all right?”

The door opened once again and he took the opportunity to offer the keys still dangling in his hand. Sabrina’s eyes brightened, but a shadow crossed her face. Some breeze, some chill in the air swept down his back at the same moment she answered him.

“I’m no teddy bear.”

The words, the inflection, the tone…they were all his dead brother’s. He’d know them anywhere.

His heart pounded while his mind raced with a million questions. How did she know that admonition? She couldn’t have. Absolutely, im-fucking-possible could she have repeated the same words his brother often threw at him when they tousled as youngsters. But the eerie way she said them, echoing her brother down to the finest detail, only his brother—only Teddy—would have said it like that.

She closed the door before he had a chance to stop her. The tremor in his hands, the shock paralyzing his voice, kept him from pounding on it and demanding she come back and explain herself.

Jason clenched his jaw and fought the vertigo gripping him. Several seconds passed before he regained his senses and the ability to walk away. Only Kelly’s presence prompted him into doing so. Either way, leaving now was definitely a temporary 10

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retreat. One way or a goddamn other, he would find out more about Sabrina and what she knew about his dead brother.

* * * * *

Sabrina stumbled to the bedroom and the voices almost stopped altogether. They knew better than to come this way. They dared not show themselves when He was about to arrive for a reason that barely made sense. With this perfect silence, she could hear herself think, could maybe form a coherent sentence too. She’d solve the mystery of how she got home from the market some other time. Or maybe not. Too often she found herself in the sanctuary of her apartment with no memory of her travels. Losing time happened more and more lately. She’d ask Him about it, but they rarely talked anymore.

Stripping, she walked to her place of comfort, pulling her shirt over her head and fumbling for her bra afterward. Her bared breasts grew heavy, the nipples tightening into buds in anticipation of what would come. Removing her jeans took a little more dexterity, but she had them and her ballet flats off by the time she crossed the threshold of her bedroom. Simple cotton panties hit the floor before she crawled onto the four-poster bed.

Blessed sanctuary this bed with its sky-blue sheets and comforter. With the smell of fabric softener that bloomed like a cloud the moment she disturbed it. Three large pillows lined the head, in repose against lavender walls. It was a girl’s room—white lace running along the bed frame, matching, lacy white curtains covering a single window. Candles sat in neat rows along her bureau while aromatherapy oil waited for the bedside lamp to be turned on and heat it into wakefulness.

In the middle sat the queen-sized bed. A bed for rest. And for loving.

She knew all too well how He’d take her when He arrived. She didn’t question that He would. He had a sense for these desperate times, almost to the point she wondered if He didn’t orchestrate the attacks Himself.

Cool air passed over her sex after she got into position. It touched the moisture pooled between her thighs, and she almost groaned. She didn’t want this, but at the same time she so very, very did. He treated her well most times, touching with the gentleness of a true lover, loving her body with the expert skill of a wanton lothario.

Most times.

If she touched herself right now, she’d come. Her skin was flushed, her pulse thrumming with anticipation. Cream ran down her thighs, and her pussy clenched with unfulfilled need. He’d take care of her sexually, as He always had, and she’d be rid of the voices for a while. Not a bad price to pay, all in all…assuming He came in a good mood.

It was those bad moods that she had to be wary of. Dark moods that encouraged Him to take out His frustrations against her. Some anger that left her black and blue in the morning and forced her to hide the bruises beneath clothing. Offering a small 11

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prayer of neither thanks, nor quite gratitude, but grudging acceptance that He at least kept her sane for a few days longer.

She looked forward to their trysts. If anyone knew about them, they might easily accuse her of being twisted or some sort of glutton for punishment. Fair trade if you asked her. She got smoking-hot sex without the hassle of a permanent boyfriend or husband impinging on her independence while also putting a temporary hiatus on her curse. Win-win.

Breath held, she waited for the first sign of His presence. Like the other voices, He approached from behind. Another disembodied spirit never to be visualized and she wasn’t so sure she wanted to see what He looked like anyway. If His physical form repulsed her, she couldn’t afford not to accept His attention. The voices were her lot in life. So was He.

She never questioned why He could make himself corporeal while the other voices couldn’t. She never asked why He wanted sex, or for that matter, sex with her. His voice rose above the rest one day, His offered asylum and she grasped on for dear life.

These days, at least once, maybe twice a week He came to her. In the beginning, she expected Him nightly and He delivered. As time passed His lust waned, her curse mellowed. By now, her body knew His in a way that should have been discomforting.

That she could masturbate to a fantasy of Him on one of His nice days should have been disturbing. But sex was sex, right? Who cared if she never saw the face that got her off? In her mind, He could be tall and handsome, maybe with dark, but tender eyes.

Maybe with a small growth of stubble on a strong, cleft chin. Lips that had yet to touch hers were firm, often demanding bruising kisses.

Kind of the way she imagined her neighbor’s kisses might be.

She sighed.

Yeah, the neighbor with the blonde girlfriend. The guy who always waved when they passed. Who was always kind. If she broke down and got a real boyfriend one day, she’d want someone sort of like him. He seemed nice.

Something in the back of her mind tickled around that thought. He was nice. Nice enough to…

She couldn’t remember, but was certain he’d done something nice for her recently.

Something beyond the call of duty. The details of it hovered just outside her recollection, though.

The air stirred, thickening to the point where she felt her body work a little harder to breathe. Goose bumps erupted along her skin a split second before the cool caress of a phantom breeze traveled over her. The steady thump of her heartbeat sped up to a thrilling speed. The door slammed closed of its own accord, hindering any retreat she might take.

He had arrived.

A trail of touch started at her ankles where He traced and circled the fragile protrusion of her bones. His touch moved up her skin, outlining her calves, caressing 12

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the back of her knees. She elevated herself, getting ready for Him to mount her, but He took his time. He slid his hands between her thighs, brushing against them so lightly her pussy clenched, desperate for Him to find it and provide the same delicate attention.

I’ve been away too long.

Eight days. The voices attacked with a vengeance because His scent no longer marked her.

Have you missed me?

No. She’d never miss Him. She’d never admit that aloud either. She did miss His protection.

A soft, noncommittal sound escaped her throat, but caught when the cool tips of His fingers probed her clit, sliding the hood back until the nub lay exposed. His finger drew a small circle around it, pulling all sensation to that singular location. All of her focus, every thought concentrated on that sensitive spot until the pleasure of it was almost too much to bear. Her hips rolled of their own volition, no longer under her command. Chasing, demanding more of that gloriousness.