"Don't move."
Wes locked the front door, pulled off his boots and socks, then shed his coat, letting it all fall to the floor. Then he stepped in front of her and leaned down to lick a drop of rain from her lips.
Katherine gasped at the feel of his warm tongue on her cold mouth. She leaned back against the door and pulled off the cap she had been wearing.
"I swear, the rain tastes like wine on your lips," whispered Wes as he took the cap from her hands and tossed it on top of his coat.
He crouched down in front of her, placed his hand on her right ankle and said, "Let me take these off."
She watched, silently, as he removed first her right boot and sock, and then her left. The marble tile felt cold beneath her feet, a sharp contrast to the heat from his lingering touch. As Wesley stood back up he pulled the t-shirt he'd been wearing up over his head.
Katherine smiled at him. His hair was mussed and he was breathing heavily, lust and desire rolling off him in waves. She reached down to undo his belt buckle. Her fingers, having boldly developed a mind of their own, unsnapped the top button of his jeans. She looked back into his eyes, green meeting blue, searching for assurance, for confirmation that what she was doing was right.
"Lift up your arms," he demanded in a low voice, giving her a sexy smile.
She paused, her hands on his zipper. Katherine lifted her arms up, her eyes locked on his. She felt it as he gathered up the edge of her sweater and raised it. She lost eye contact for the briefest of moments as he pulled it over her head and tossed it onto the rapidly growing pile of clothes.
Wesley placed his hand around her neck and, ever so slowly, slid it down, gliding it over her dampened flesh, heating it, warming her.
"Wes?" she asked, hesitantly as he brushed his fingertips across the tops of the full mounds of her breasts.
"White lace," he said, as he reached down to palm her still covered breast. "It looks so innocent, pure, virginal. It's giving me horrible, nasty thoughts."
"Horrible?" squeaked Katherine as his hands found the zipper to her jeans and slid it down.
"Well," admitted Wesley with a rakish grin as he pulled her wet pants past her hips and watched them fall to the floor, "maybe not so horrible. In fact," he added as he watched her step out of them and sweep them aside with her foot. "I'm rather enjoying this train of thought."
"Are you now?" she asked in a breathy voice.
"Oh, yeah!" he nodded as he quickly shed his own jeans.
"Very ... very ... much," he confessed before leaning down and crushing his lips to hers in the heat of passion. He could feel the lace of her bra scratch his chest as he pressed his body flush against hers.
She parted her lips, and he slipped his tongue inside. He boldly explored the warm, wet cavern, holding nothing back. Kate released a moan into his mouth. He slid his arm around her waist and then snaked his hand inside her matching lace panties to caress her bottom.
Katherine lifted her knee, rubbing her calf along the inside of his leg as she returned the kiss with equal ardor. She shivered in pleasure as his kisses followed the path to her neck and he nibbled gently at her pulse point.
"Tell me you're cold," he said, stepping back.
"I wasn't shivering from the cold," she replied, flush with arousal.
"I'm going to go get your robe. I've ... I've got to get some distance," he explained as he began to walk backwards, increasing the space between them.
"Or what?" she teased.
Wes was on her in a second. His face a hairsbreadth away from hers as he slapped his hands on the door above her head, pinning her in. She could feel the cold, hard wood of the door against her back. He leaned down and brushed his lips gently across hers, the feather light touch causing her breath to hitch. "I spontaneously combust from all this pent up sexual tension or I throw you onto the cold marble floor and have my wicked way with you."
"I vote for..." she was interrupted as a gust of ice-cold wind passed through the entryway. Katherine shivered as gooseflesh rose on her skin.
"Did you feel that?" she asked as the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. "That cold gust of air?"
"That would be my cue," he replied, pulling away.
"No," she clarified as she stepped into the living room. "It's just that it feels like a window is open."
"I'll be back in a flash. Then I'll start a fire and get the chill out of the air," he said as he dashed up the stairs.
Her eyes darted about the now familiar room, trying to discern the direction that the draft was coming from. The ambient light in the room was dim, so she switched on a lamp. She glanced over at the window by the piano, expecting it to be open, only it wasn't. It was so cold she could see her breath. She heard something behind her, a rustle of fabric, then she felt something brush up against the back of her calves. She let out a terrified scream as she spun around and it rippled, echoing throughout the room.
"Christ!" yelped Wes, stepping back, now wearing a pair of black sweatpants.
"Sorry, you ... you startled me," she gasped placing her hand over her heart, trying to catch her breath.
"I called to you. You seemed lost in thought," he said holding out her robe.
Katherine looked past him, into the large mirror that hung on the wall in the entryway. In it she could see Wes' beautifully sculpted back, she could see her own face, looking over his shoulder, and she could see the silhouette of a woman, standing next to the piano, looking out the window at the rain. She turned around quickly, her wet hair sending out drops of water to stare into an empty space that had just moments before...
"What is it?" he asked, puzzled.
"Wes, do you believe in ghosts?" she whispered as she scanned the room, her heart racing.
)
