Ghost's Sight Read Online Free PDF Page A

tightening in the cool air. He shivered a little as Gerry pulled him closer, dragging the blanket up over them both, Gerry’s strong arm dropping over Ghost.
    “G’night,” Gerry mumbled as his breathing evened out and his eyes closed.
    Ghost waited, not wanting to move, just breathing in the scent of this man. He felt the roughness of Gerry’s stubble against his skin as he dared to nuzzle his face into Gerry’s shoulder. He thought his heart would do that ridiculous skipping thing again, but it beat steadily. It was not until his own eyes were closing that Ghost realized that his heart was beating in time with Gerry’s heart.
     
    Chapter 3
     
    Gerry woke to the unaccustomed weight of a body in his arms. He looked at the snowy head burrowed into his shoulder, the younger man’s breathing slow and even. He felt the heat coming off the smooth skin under his arm, and he felt Ghost’s thigh where it was thrust between his own thighs. Gerry bit back a groan, realizing that he was hard. No way would Ghost miss that, unless Gerry could ease himself back a bit.
    The hunter moved back with deliberate care, not wanting to wake Ghost or alarm him. As Gerry shifted, Ghost turned, his face revealed as he wriggled to rest his head on Gerry’s shoulder. His thigh moved away from Gerry’s groin, and Gerry offered the Lady a quick prayer of thanks. It gave Gerry a chance to truly study Ghost’s face without fear of making the younger man nervous, without Ghost ducking his head to hide behind his long, white hair.
    Cautiously, Gerry reached up to smooth a bit of that snowy mane. The strands slipped through his fingers like silk to reveal a witch’s mark, a spiral of olive-green stones that seemed to be a part of Ghost’s very forehead, shining against the translucent skin. Gerry had seen such marks before, peculiar glyphs burned into a witch’s skin in vibrant jewel-tone inks to offer protection or enhance their power, or so the witches claimed. This was the first time he had seen actual jewels used, though. He thought it was beautiful, exotic like all of Ghost, with that white hair and those ice blue eyes. Gerry returned to admiring the peaceful face resting on his shoulder.
    Ghost had no beard growth, Gerry realized. Ghost’s cheeks were bare without even a hint of fuzz, making him look younger than his eighteen years. His nose was straight and thin, his cheekbones high, his lower lip plump and succulent, begging to be captured in a kiss.
    The tea had made Gerry hazy at the end, after his healing, but he was sure he remembered Ghost saying there had never been anyone that Ghost had cared for. The thought of being able to teach Ghost the pleasure of making love was enough to make Gerry want to steal that kiss. There was something beguiling about the Witch’s young dependent, or apprentice, or whatever Ghost was to her, and Gerry felt a rising heat in his belly.
    Ghost wriggled again as the dawn light crept through the window, the only shade coming from the tree in the yard. He flung one arm up to cover his eyes, a pink nipple peeking out from under the blanket. Gerry had to bite back another groan, this one coaxed forth by Gerry’s desire to tease that tender nub with tongue and teeth until Gerry had Ghost writhing, eager and willing to be loved.
    As if in response to that mental image, Ghost turned back toward Gerry. Gerry’s eyes widened as he felt the hard bulge in Ghost’s breeches. Ghost’s pale blue eyes opened slowly as Ghost’s arm fell away from them. A perfect pink bloomed on Ghost’s cheeks.
    “Oh,” Ghost said, which seemed to sum it all up in a single word.
    “You stayed,” Gerry said, touching Ghost’s cheek. “Thank you.” He meant it. He had thought Ghost would slip away in the night, and it only now struck him how glad he was that Ghost had stayed.
    Ghost looked at Gerry, his fingers reaching up to touch the back of Gerry’s hand. “I fell asleep. You were warm and I felt safe.” He