Read Online Soldier of Love by Gabrielle Holly - Free Book Online Page B

confident yank sent a half-dozen buttons clattering to the kitchen floor. Toni’s pussy throbbed and grew wet at the promise his action made. She felt pinned by the yards of fabric that made up her skirt and she reached down and began hoisting up the hem. As soon as it cleared her knees, Thomas pushed between her legs and began grinding into her. Dropping her hands between them, she tugged at the brass closure, freed the button, then groped for the tongue of his zipper. Before she could pull it down and free his erection, he jerked away from her. Toni was instantly mortified by her behaviour and wondered if she’d done something wrong.
    She forced herself to look up at him. His head was turned and his chin was tucked. His eyes were fixed on her as if he were a lion and she a gazelle. This did not look like a man who didn’t want her to free his raging hard-on from its confines.
    Thomas was panting. He held up one finger, as if to tell her to hang on for just a moment. He reached behind his back and pulled his vibrating cell phone from his pocket. He blindly slid his finger across the screen, then glanced long enough to hit the speaker button.
    “Mike?” he said, still panting.
    “No, this is Brad. Are you all right, man? You sound like you just ran a marathon.”
    “Yeah, I’m fine. What’s up?”
    “What’s up? It’s a boy, man! I’m a freakin’ daddy!”
    Mike called moments after Thomas had congratulated his cameraman and hung up. Thomas left the phone on speaker and laid it on the kitchen table. He and Toni leaned in for the update. Bridget was in the recovery room. She was still groggy, but she’d come through with flying colours. She’d spend the night at the hospital then be off work for at least a week. Mike planned to stay with her.
    Thomas thanked Mike for the update, then sat down hard on a kitchen chair. He rested his forehead in his hands.
    “What time is it?” he asked.
    Toni tilted the phone towards her. “Four-seventeen. We should go to bed.”
    Thomas looked up at her. “Listen, I’m sure that would be amazing, but I’m exhausted.”
    “To sleep. We should go to our separate beds, to sleep.”
    Thomas shook his head. “Sorry. I’m just punchy, I guess. Yeah, sleep sounds like a great idea.”
    Thomas slung his carryon bag over one shoulder and gathered up the infrared and night-vision cameras—both still mounted to their tripods. Toni was exhausted when she led him upstairs. She stumbled on the bottom step and righted herself against the loose banister. She showed him one of the guestrooms at the top of the stairs.
    “They all have private baths,” she said, “and this one is actually working.”
    Thomas dropped his carryon inside the guestroom door, but remained standing in the hallway, cameras and tripods in hand.
    Toni paused. “Did you need something?”
    “Where’s your room?” he asked.
    “Excuse me?”
    Thomas held out the equipment. “I need to set these up in your room. Buckman is obviously drawn to you. The theory is that ghosts do their thing when the subject is most receptive, either during a heightened emotional state, or in a deep sleep. I’ll set up the cameras and see if we can catch Mr Tall, Dark and Transparent on the thermal-imager or on night vision.”
    “No,” Toni said.
    “No?” Thomas asked, raising his eyebrows and locking her in a disbelieving stare.
    “That’s right, I said, ‘No’,” Toni confirmed. “I’m not comfortable with that.”
    Thomas leant back hard against his guestroom doorjamb.
    “Let me get this straight. You’re okay with calling complete strangers and telling them that you’ve been seeing ghosts. And you’re fine with inviting those strangers into your home and going on camera to recount the thrilling tale of how said ghost dry humped you doggie-style over your kitchen sink. And, presumably—since you signed a release—you don’t mind if any of that information is recorded for posterity and broadcast over