Sixth Grave on the Edge(24)

“Agreed,” he said instead, a second before he lowered his mouth to mine, fusing us together like an arc welder. He wrapped his arms around me, the hold viselike, unyielding. The heat was blistering and surreal at once, and I felt it all the way down to my toes. He broke off the kiss and nipped at my ear. “I guess it’s a good thing you can have a relationship with a departed,” he said.

“Why’s that?”

“We can still see each other after I die.”

I tried to lean back to look at him, but Reyes went from cruising at a solid twenty-five miles per hour to flying faster than the speed of sound. In an instant, he had me pinned against the wall, the long fingers of one hand bracing both wrists above my head while the other slipped beneath my sweater. His hand slid around my waist and up my spine, his fingertips tracing the hollow line of my vertebrae.

“Probing for a weak spot?” I asked him softly, well aware of his penchant for severing spines.

“I know exactly where your weak spots are,” he said, and he proved his point by slipping his hand underneath my bra and cradling Will Robinson, teasing her crest with a soft squeeze.

Arousal leapt inside me so fast, I felt the world spin.

“And I know exactly where to probe,” he continued. He pushed my legs apart with his hips and pushed against me, the friction of our jeans causing a nuclear heat to build in my abdomen.

I tore one wrist free of his grasp and planted my hand on a steely buttock to pull him closer. He let a husky growl escape him. The deep sound reverberated through my bones, crashing like spilled wine against them. And like wine, the effect was intoxicating.

Someone, a man, cleared his throat nearby.

It took me a moment to realize we had company. When I did, I broke our hold with a startled jump. “Uncle Bob,” I said, smoothing my clothes and straightening to face him. “You’re early.”

“I’m late, actually.” He stood there in a brown suit and loosened tie, looking both uncomfortable and cautious.

I glanced at my watch. It was 6:10. “Oh, wow, the time must’ve slipped away from me.”

“Must have,” he said before raising the bag he was carrying. “Hungry?”

“Famished.” I looked back at Reyes, who was back to scowling, this time at Uncle Bob. “What about you?” I asked him. “Want to join us?”

“No, thank you,” he said, stepping back into his apartment. A burst of cool air rushed between us with his absence. “I ate at the bar.”

“Okay, well, we can discuss our business for tonight later?” The card game didn’t start until nine, so we had some time to come up with a brilliant plan that would keep us both alive. And hopefully one that would let us keep our souls as well.

I didn’t want a demon supping on my soul.

Uncle Bob’s timing could not have been more perfect. Right as we turned to go into my apartment, Cookie’s date rose in the stairwell beside us. He nodded to us and went straight to Cookie’s door to knock. Uncle Bob stopped in his tracks. He surveyed the man from the top of his neatly trimmed head to the tips of his wing tip toes. It was funny. Kind of. On one hand, I felt sorry for him. On the other, it was his own fault. Cookie wasn’t going to wait around forever. She needed snuggle time.

He turned back to us as he waited for Cookie to answer the door. I winked at him. Barry was an old friend from college. We’d had a couple classes together, including one on jazz appreciation. We’d bonded over the fact that going in, neither one of us was particularly fond of jazz, but we’d learned to love it. Especially the history.

I stepped to my door and turned the knob slowly, taking my time, waiting for Cookie to answer hers. When she didn’t answer immediately, I began to get a little worried. But when she did answer, all my fears dissipated. She looked fantastic. She wore a dark burgundy pantsuit with a cream-colored throw around her shoulders. If that didn’t get Uncle Bob’s attention, I didn’t know what would.

Uncle Bob made a point of speaking to me in a louder-than-necessary voice. He asked me once again if I was hungry.

I chuckled and said just as loudly, “Why, yes, I am, Uncle Bob. Like I said before. But thanks for the recap.”

“Oh, hey, Cookie,” he said, pretending to just notice her. As if his eyes didn’t almost pop out of his head the minute they landed on her. He was so bad at this flirting gig.

Cookie offered him a brilliant smile as she shook Barry’s hand. “Hello there yourself, Robert. I see you brought dinner. I’m sorry I’ll miss it.”

Uncle Bob followed me inside, almost stumbling when I paused at the threshold of my apartment to give him more time. He cleared his throat in embarrassment and said, “I’m sorry, too.”