Too many thoughts crowded into Jeremy’s spinning head. He couldn’t grab one long enough to analyze it.
His friend’s name echoed in his mind, but he couldn’t get a sound past his throat.
Am I dead?
Weight pressed on his chest, making breathing difficult. He stared up at the twisted remains of the suspended ceiling, mesmerized by the fact that there was still light. A blast like that should have taken out the electricity.
Then he looked out the corner of his eye. The light was coming from outside
the lab area. The other rooms in the huge basement seemed to be safe, though, and since the house hadn’t caved in on them, that meant it stood as well. Maybe things weren’t as bad as they seemed.
Then why couldn’t he move?
Still no voice. The explosion must have deafened him. Everything felt muffled, like he was underwater. He could have screamed and not have heard it. Panic set in at the thought of being permanently deaf. He tamped it down. That
might be the least of his problems.
Why couldn’t he catch a good breath? His skin crawled, and his heart raced a mile a minute. What the hell had he done? If he’d killed Cristían…
His vision shimmered. Tears. Jeremy’s fear lessened. He had to be alive. Dead people didn’t cry, did they?
Definitely no sound. He would have felt the vibration in his throat. Damn it, why the hell couldn’t he talk? Oh shit… Was he paralyzed? That’s why he couldn’t breathe, why his arms and legs and everything else felt like he was in a vise--squeezing, releasing. Tears trickled from his eyes and settled in his ringing ears.
He couldn’t let panic overwhelm him. Paralyzed meant he wouldn’t feel anything, and Jeremy could damn well feel. He just couldn’t move, talk, or breathe.
Trapped. Yes, I’m trapped under something.
Not that it made him feel much better, but at least his fear ebbed. Barry would have heard the blast and gotten help. The hovering pain in the ass was finally good for something. All Jeremy needed to do was hang in there. Which would be a lot easier to accomplish if he knew Cristían was all right.
He focused on moving his hand, trying to feel for obstructions. It felt four times heavier than normal. He couldn’t get his fingers to work. Everything felt…squishy beneath his hand.
Oh God, a body? Lupe?
He’d had the cat cradled in one arm before the accident, his laptop in the other. There was no way either could have survived. Damn, he loved that cat.
He forced his hand to move again. Pain sliced through his palm. He jerked away from the shards of glass. He could move! It’d be great if he could have heaved a sigh of relief to go along with that revelation.
Jeremy slid his hand to his stomach, hoping he could find and remove whatever was on top of him. It was soft and warm. A body? Panic rushed in.
Too light to be Cristían. Too heavy to be Lupe.
He refused to entertain any possibility that it might be a part of Cristían.
No no no!
Frowning, Jeremy focused his attention once more on moving his left hand. His fingers tingled with that pins-and-needles feeling, as if they’d been asleep. He waited for the feeling to subside. It grew instead, crawling up his arm, over his shoulders, and down the other side. His arms felt like they were swelling, compressing…like he was being squeezed by a giant. His vision shimmered again, golden this time, with not a tear in sight. Like a mist surrounded him. Or magic.
Or the other side?
Jeremy let the thought remain. It wasn’t so bad after all. A part of him longed to escape his body, and he realized that’s what was trying to break free. His soul wanted to soar. All he had to do was let go.
Beautiful. So beautiful.
Weight eased from his chest and torso. He could breathe now. A chill shuddered over him. He missed the warmth. Something brushed over his stomach. Hair. Soft, silky.
Where were his lab coat and T-shirt? As soon as that thought occurred, small hands pushed both items farther up his torso. A hot tongue rasped over his ribs. Jeremy tried to move. His body refused to cooperate.
More licks followed the path of each rib and stroked his nipples. His cock recognized the action long before his brain kicked in. He was being loved. And damn, it felt good! God, it’d been a year since he’d had sex. He’d been too absorbed with work and uncovering the mysteries of the world to nurture a relationship. Too focused on actually using the intelligence he’d been born with, rather than squander it. Too thankful at the second chance the universe had granted him to waste it chasing sex.
And God, how he’d missed it! Jeremy didn’t realize it until this moment. The touch of another, sweet and caring. He hadn’t lied to Barry--his hand had been more than sufficient. How could he have been so foolish to think he didn’t need human contact? He’d gone from one extreme to the other--lazy, woman-chasing bum to reclusive genius. Until Cristían, he hadn’t developed any friendships, and he’d had no real ones before. No one wanted an irresponsible asshole for a friend, and women wanted him only for the size of his cock. So had more than a few men. All had the same goal--to see if his dick was really as big as rumor claimed and if it could fit in their bodies. The answer to both was a resounding yes!
and Jeremy had no problem pounding it in wherever and whenever they wanted.
It was a sad way to live. Jeremy was glad he’d finally seen the light and changed his ways. If he lost Cristían and that little cat…
Jeremy tried to call out again. The attempt choked off as a tongue dived under the waistband of his jeans. His cock lengthened, searching for the source of heaven. Long hair tickled over his stomach; his muscles rippled under the caress. Those small hands again--a woman’s hands--curled into the waistband and tugged. When they went no farther than his hip bones, she stopped.
He managed to stare down his nose. Her long hair was a riot of color--black and red, with some white thrown in. Quizzical sage green eyes stared at his swollen crotch.
A human Lupe? Impossible!
Now Jeremy knew he was hallucinating. That was the only logical explanation. Hurt from the explosion, paralyzed, clearly in shock, hovering on the brink of life and death, and he’d conjured up a hot nude woman who looked like the human version of Lupe. If he were on his way out, heading for the great beyond, the other side, whatever, well then, he was going to enjoy this last fantasy before he went.
The woman--Lupe--drew back and pressed her hand against his cock. Again and again and again. Like he was a fucking pop-up toy. The pressure was killing him. He would have given just about anything to be able to move, to get the zipper down and shove his cock down her throat.
Not content with her sweet torture, Lupe knelt between his thighs, pressed both hands to his crotch, and kneaded him. She was driving him insane.
Jeremy snarled. The sound frightened him as much as it did her. She jerked up, head cocked, her fingers poised like claws over his erection. The threat wilted his hard-on, but not for long.
She quickly discovered his zipper. She flicked the tab a couple of times, then pinched it between thumb and forefinger and pulled.
He felt every tooth release, and his cock surged into the gap it created. A gap she explored with the tip of her finger. He tried to thrust into the touch… Nothing. He still couldn’t move. He was hers to do with as she pleased, and he wished she’d do it now, because he was loving every second. She jammed her hands under the fly button and tugged. Its release earned her smile. She hooked her nails into the waistband again and dragged his clothing down. His cock sprang into blessed freedom. Lupe jumped, her eyes wide and locked on his penis. Then she laughed.
The sound seemed to surprise her as much as Jeremy’s snarl did him. She lifted one hand to her mouth but stopped short to stare at her fingers.
“I’m…different.” Puzzlement masked her heart-shaped face; then wonder filled her eyes. Fingers fluttered to her lips. “I can speak.” She laughed again and pressed her fingers against her throat. “Speak, speak, speak.” More laughter.
She stretched her hands in front of her and slowly turned them to study her palms. Her wide-eyed gaze drifted down her arms and to her small, pert breasts. She cupped them, flicking her fingers over the hard nipples.
Jeremy managed a sigh. He’d once bragged to a woman that he’d die with a hard-on. Little did he realize…
“I like these.” Her broad smile chased the confusion away. “It feels so
good to touch them.”
And looked so hot, he was ready to die a semihappy man. What sane man wouldn’t want to breathe his last watching a woman play with her tits? Even an imaginary woman. Right now she was real enough for him.
“You like it too, don’t you?” Still tugging one nipple, she reached over and tweaked his.
Jeremy growled, the sound rough and raw in his throat. She leaned closer, her long hair tickling his chest. She flicked her tongue around each nipple, then lapped downward to where his dick wept with anticipation.
Wiggling between his thighs, she tucked her small breasts against his balls, tripling his agony, and licked the precum away. A year without sex, without any touch save that of his hand, played havoc with Jeremy’s control. He listened as she smacked her lips and approved his taste with a soft mmm
The pins and needles were back, this time all over his body, tingling, burning, arrowing down to his aching balls. His body undulated from deep inside. Not like he rode the tide, but as if he were
the ocean. He closed his eyes against the golden mist. Clenched his jaw when her breath washed over his cock. Jeremy felt her warm lips before they touched him. His cock jerked when she suckled at the base. His balls crawled deep into his body.
Goddamn, my toes hurt!
That’s what happens when a guy goes so long without sex, an inner voice taunted.
Jeremy wasn’t laughing. It hurt--everything hurt--and yet felt so damn good at the same time. She worked her lips with hot nibbles up to the tip of his cock. His orgasm pooled behind each one. She paused at the crown. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t move. Pain…pleasure.
Her mouth closed over him. Fire. Ecstasy.
Jeremy screamed with the force of his orgasm. No…yowled
. Everything inside him poured out. Power…strength…fear…panic.
His eyes flashed open to see that golden mist. The woman backed away, her eyes wide more from curiosity than fear. All he wanted was to drag her back and pound his cock into her. His feet hurt so much. His arms and legs felt crushed. This was it. This was death.
So unfair, when he’d finally found a real life. God, he was going to miss Cristían. And the real Lupe too. Where were they?
Let them be okay.
He squeezed his eyes shut against the inevitable as another wave of pain overcame him.