Chapter 83

When Noel and Shelby called to invite him over for dinner, he begged off. Yes, he had to leave the house for shopping and to walk the puppy, but that was it, the limit of the time he was willing to spend away from Evie. He hummed a sultry jazz number as he drove to the store.
Tonight he had forty-five whole minutes with a solid Evie.
Though he enjoyed talking to her during the day, he was rapidly becoming addicted to being able to touch her at night. And tonight he had three-quarters of an hour to show her something new and exciting.
He didn't intend to take her, it wasn't enough time for her first experience, but he did plan to make her come - hopefully more than once. His cock pulsed at the thought. Oh yeah, tonight Sam was going to make Evie scream, using his hands instead of her own.
He ducked into a specialty store on his way to the grocery. One night this week he was going to introduce Evie to toys. He was so aroused at the thought, he had to sit and wait in the parking lot for a few minutes before going inside. Once inside, he made his selections, then debated over condoms. Could a ghost get pregnant? It wasn't very likely. She sure as hell didn't have to worry about disease. Ultimately, he opted for a large box, just in case. His parents had drilled the concept of "better safe than sorry" into his skull pretty deeply. As much as he wanted a family someday, he wanted his kids to be planned, not surprises.
And he sure as hell wanted their mother to be living.
His chest hurt when he thought about that, and he stopped right there at the checkout counter, his jaw dropping open.
He was falling in love with Evangeline Bonnell.
A ghost.
Fuck.
He didn't regret having this week with her, he really didn't. He was touched and honored to be the man she'd chosen, after all these years, to grant her final wish.
But how the hell was he ever going to let her go?
That thought stayed with him, lurking cold and dark in the back of his mind as he shopped for groceries, then cooked and ate his solitary supper. Meanwhile, Evie sat beside him and chatted eagerly about the distant relatives who had owned the house during the fifties and the first time she'd seen a television. She'd hovered in the background over a decade later to watch the first man walk on the moon. It amazed him to listen to her tales. She'd seen wars and riots on the news and witnessed couples fall in love, age and die together and others divorce. Apparently one owner had even been suspected of killing his wife, though even Evie didn't know for sure, and the body had never been found. On a happier note, she'd watched generations of children being born and raised in the big, rambling home, some happy, some not.
And yet, through all of it, she'd remained utterly alone.
It was enough to break his heart.
At least in these last few days, she wouldn't be alone. For one last week, Evie was going to know how it felt to be loved.
At 11:14, clad only in his boxers, he waited for her in the hall. As soon as she materialized, he whisked her into his arms for a long, deep, wet kiss. Her enthusiastic response warmed his soul. Unwilling to wait, he picked her up, mouths still fused, and carried her down the hall to his bedroom.
He laid her down on the clean white sheets and gazed at her in the light of the two dozen white candles that filled the room. Her golden hair tumbled across the pillows and over one breast, the blonde tresses glinting in the candlelight. Her pale skin had already flushed with desire and her full lips parted, her tongue peeking out to wet them.
Sam groaned, wishing he had a camera handy. "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."
"Coming from an artist, that's quite a compliment," she said huskily. She reached for the front hooks of her corset and opened it as Sam watched, growing harder with each inch of creamy skin she revealed.
The tip of his cock poked out through the fly of his boxers, already damp with pre-come. Evie looked at it and licked her lips again, making it bob in response.
Sam knelt on the edge of the bed and helped her remove her corset. Then she lifted her hips while he slid her thin cotton drawers down her legs.
He leaned back on his heels, gazing at her recumbent, naked form.
How he wished he could paint her like this. He had his sketches, but he wanted her in oils. Too bad there wasn't time. Perhaps she'd let him take a photo and he could paint her from that. He didn't do a lot of portraits, most of his art was landscapes or abstract, but he wanted one of Evie. It would give him something to remember her by after she was gone.
And he wasn't going to think about that anymore tonight.
He stretched out beside Evie, pulling her close to his chest. She reached up to twine her arms around his neck, pulling his head down for a kiss. Sam took his time, feathering his lips against hers for a while before using his tongue to trace the curve of her mouth. He tangled one hand in her long, silky hair while he glided the other down the soft skin of her arm and hip then around to cup one slender buttock, pulling her closer still. As his tongue invaded her mouth, his erection jutted into her flat belly, and her dainty breasts rubbed against the hair on his chest. Not thrusting inside her tonight was liable to kill him, but he was determined to take it slow. Tonight would be all about pleasure, with none of the pain.