Chapter 26
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
brETT
Jane Evangeline: Entry#13
I made a huge mistake asking Hudson to remove his mask. As soon as the words passed my lips, he fell into a fit of rage, smashing his fist through walls and breaking all the plates in his kitchen.
Then he turned on me.
No, no! He didn’t hit me—though I admit, his fist did come pretty close when he slammed it through the wall next to my temple.
But I know Hudson. He is kind and gentle. His reaction was merely a product of his upbringing, not who he is on the inside. It’s really the Sanctum’s fault for his outburst, and the sooner I take them down, the better .
I wake a few hours later to something hard poking me in the back. I look over my shoulder, my body tensing as my nose brushes the cool black metal of Ghost’s mask.
Oh shit. Oh fuck. What have I done?
I try to lift his arm off my shoulder, but it’s heavier than it looks, and ultimately, my efforts are for naught. I huff, trying to wiggle out from underneath instead, but Ghost tightens his grip, almost as if his subconscious knows I’m trying to escape.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. This is the opposite of good.
I lay my head back, forced to look up at the ceiling as I listen to Ghost snore next to me. My mind is a mess of colors, feelings, and sensations, all twisting together in a tangled ball of fuckedupness.
I let the Phantom eat me out. Not just that, but I fucking liked it. The way his tongue worked against me, the highs of pleasure I’ve never thought were possible…
And the fact he didn’t care that I was bleeding… I’m just not going to think about that part. If I do, I might realize that was the hottest part of all—and that would make me insane. Certifiably, lock-her-up-and-throw-away-the-key insane.
As long as I don’t think about it, it should be fine. I can go back to hating this man with every fiber of my being, and things will return to normal.
A small part of me screams that I crossed that line about a mile back, but I dutifully ignore it. The alternative is too messed up to consider.
“Did you enjoy your nap, darling?”
I jump, frowning as his fucked-up chuckle sounds out next to my ear. The lower half of his mask presses against my temple—almost as if he’s giving me a kiss—and my cheeks flame.
It also doesn’t help that the python in his pants poked me again as he said it.
“Yes. Thanks,” I murmur, fire coursing through my veins as he adjusts his grip, cupping one of my breasts in his massive palm. “What are you doing?”
“Just feeling you,” he murmurs, nuzzling that cold metal against my neck. “It’s never enough. I want to be in your skin, Brett.”
Welp, here’s to hoping that’s just an exaggeration. Although, with the way he’s gripping me now, it seems like he might actually be serious. I gulp, forcing the thought from my mind.
Ghost takes a deep breath, followed by a low, growling moan as he flicks his thumb over my nipple. “ I love these.” His voice shudders from his voice mod, the low, scratching tone giving it a demon-esque quality. My body quivers, though it’s not from fright. Lord help me, I don’t know what’s wrong with me. But I sure as shit don’t want to stop feeling this… this…
My mind goes blank as Ghost rolls on top of me, and I realize he’s still in a full suit. I tug at his jacket, desperate to see the rest of him, but Ghost shakes his head.
“Why not?” I whine, shoving my bottom lip toward him. Ghost’s mask slides up, and before I know what’s happening, he lunges forward, capturing my lip between his teeth.
I let out a squeak as he bites down, eliciting a deep, rumbling moan from him.
“I love when you cry for me, darling.” His tongue darts out, licking the small injury. “Those little sounds you make get me so fucking hard. Feel.” He grabs my hand, placing it directly on the straining bulge in his pants.
“Ah, fuck,” he curses, leaning his head back and letting me get a good look at his large, bobbing Adam’s apple. “Fuck, please don’t stop. Please. Please, touch me.”
My chest constricts at his insistence. The fact that this man is begging me for anything seems surreal. It’s why, as soon as he says it, I reach out, releasing his cock from its confines.
“Fuck yes,” he groans, his abdomen shuddering as I lean forward, taking the thick length in my hand. One hand is not enough to envelop him fully, but I try my best, running my hand slowly from the tip to base. Ghost lets out a choked noise, lowering his head so he can watch what I’m doing to him.
“That feels…” His voice cuts off as another strangled moan pours from his mouth. The next thing I know, Ghost is between my thighs, his cock straining toward my center. A drop of precum is pooling at the tip, and I flick it off with my thumb before raising it to my mouth. I plop the digit between my lips, rolling my eyes back with a moan as the taste of him coats my tongue.
“My God, Brett,” he chokes. His hips buck forward, yet his cock doesn’t touch me. From the way his mouth is twisted, it must be taking an incredible amount of willpower.
“I can’t wait to fill you,” he groans. “I want to hear the sound you make when my cock enters you for the first time. I want to fucking split you, to ruin you for any other man. I’m going to take everything, Brett. Everything you are, and what’s left after that, too.”
He dips his head to my breast, taking my nipple between his teeth and giving it a gentle nip. I cry out, jerking back instinctually—but this only makes him bite harder.
“Ah, fuck!” I scream, my head falling back as waves of pain and pleasure flow from the area.
“Shh.” He releases his jaw just in time to lap at the affected area, soothing the liquid fire pulsing from my nipple. “You like the pain, Brett. Look how your body craves it—cries for it.” He reaches down, running his fingers through my dripping folds. It’s then that I realize I still have nothing down there to stop the flow, and I try to squeeze my thighs together, a wave of mortification overwhelming me.
Ghost growls, seemingly displeased with the change in me. He grips my knees, prying them open so they slam into the mattress. “Do not,” he snarls, leaning his face in so were nose to nose. “ Ever, close yourself off from me. Do you understand?”
“Yes.” I nod, a small mewl tumbling from my lips at the infuriated rumble in his chest.
“Yes, what? ”
I frown, not quite understanding until I remember what I called him the other day. Oh, no way in hell! That was a joke!
He reaches up, curling his fingers around my neck and squeezing hard. “Yes, what, darling?”
Black spots form in my sight as my oxygen is cut off, and I know I’m not winning this fight. “Yes, sir.”
“Much better.” He releases his grip, only for it to travel back down between my legs. I squirm but don’t dare shut my legs before. I watch his cock strain toward me, but Ghost never gives in to whatever urges he’s feeling. A part of me wishes he would, but that’s the crazed part of my brain, I’m sure.
After a few more minutes of pleasuring me, Ghost pulls away, his mouth a thin line. With a swoosh, his mask closes back in place, and I try to ignore the flood of disappointment that comes with it. He zips his rock-hard cock back into his pants, the motion seeming uncomfortable.
Maybe he thought about last night, and now he thinks I’m gross. Hell, I probably am ? —
“If you are thinking negative thoughts about yourself, I suggest you stop. I had to pull away because…”
Because he wasn’t going to be able to hold back anymore. The reality of the situation hits me like a bucket of ice water, and I glance up meekly, biting my lip. “Okay, no more negative thoughts. Although… I do feel a little gross right now. Is there any chance you have sanitary products? ”
Ghost tilts his head. “That is one of my oversights. I’ll have Orion drop them off within the hour.”
“Oh. Thank you.” I’m not too sure how happy I am to see the kid that dragged me back here, but I guess I can forgive him if he’ll bring me tampons. “And… I probably need another shower.”
Ghost tenses, his head moving ever so slightly as he takes in my body. “I can help with that.”
I sigh, rolling my eyes as I swing my legs over the side of the bed. “Uh-huh. I’m sure you can.”
After another shower—and, though I hate to admit it, one or two more orgasms—Ghost exits the shower to grab my supplies from where Orion apparently left them while we were busy. When he returns with the box of tampons, I nearly squeal with joy. That is, until he insists on putting it in for me.
I’m finding out that I’m down for a lot of things, but my God, is there no line this man won’t cross?
After much disagreement, Ghost eventually lets me do it myself—though I swear, if I could see his face, he’d be pouting .
The sicko.
Tampon in place, I step into the bedroom where Ghost waits with a towel, ready to wipe off the residual drops from the shower. His hands travel slowly over my shoulders and neck before traveling south, where he lingers between my legs though he just spent well over an hour exploring me. My whole body is pruned and exhausted, but he seems like he’d like nothing better than to take me back to the bedroom and spend the rest of the day touching my body.
I admit, the orgasms are helping with the light cramps I’ve been experiencing since I woke. And he hasn’t said a single thing about the blood—like he doesn’t realize it's there—so I guess I’m just going to enjoy it.
Until I find a way out of this place, that is. Though I’ve definitely started to warm to the Phantom, I haven’t forgotten my mission. I’m still a federal agent, and a few lousy orgasms aren’t going to stop me from hauling this guy away in cuffs. I just have to get on his good side, get him to trust me, and then I’ll finish the mission.
Yeah, right. What a load of shit.
I know it’s a lie as soon as I say it, but I can’t come to terms with what it means. Am I actually falling for Ghost? The idea seems preposterous, yet…
Yet you let him make you come. Multiple times.
I almost groan aloud, notice Ghost's face trained on mine, and hold it back. I shift my gaze, looking anywhere except that black oval, desperate for him to stop looking through me like that. Like he knows exactly what I’m thinking.
A shiver runs through me, but then my eyes catch something rectangular on top of his dresser, and my mouth pops in surprise.
“You read romance books?” I squint my eyes, and–-sure enough—I recognize the title on the spine. The Best Week. That’s so funny, I was reading that before he kidnapped me…
“Ghost…?” I look up at him, but his head is trained on my core, his hand clenching and unclenching at his side. “Earth to Ghost.”
“It’s given me many ideas,” he murmurs, stepping between my thighs and pressing his hardening cock against my core. “I can show you if you’d like.”
I squirm against him, wishing I could open my mouth and tell him, yes, that is exactly what I would like. But no. I need to stay strong. I need to remember my ultimate goal. Taking down the Sanctum .
Luckily, I don’t have to say anything because the rumble of my stomach is the perfect answer. Immediately, Ghost steps back, holding out his bare hand for me to take.
“You’re hungry. Let me feed you.”
For some reason, this makes me blush. Yes, he’s tried to cook for me before, but considering I thought he was trying to poison me, I never got to appreciate the sentiment. I could be wrong about Ghost—Stockholm syndrome will have you thinking some whack-ass things—but my gut tells me he really isn’t going to harm me. In fact, I believe the opposite—that he will do everything in his power to protect me.
He put himself in danger for me when he took out those other masked men, and his actions here at the lair only serve to strengthen my assumption. That Ghost wants to protect me—take care of me, even.
When I place my hand into his and let him lead me into the kitchen, I’m not afraid. When he pulls out a barstool and helps me up, I get a fuzzy warm feeling deep in my gut. If I don’t think about the person doing these things for me, it almost feels… good.
“What would you like for dinner, darling?” he asks, bending to retrieve a pan from one of the lower cabinets.
This is so fucking surreal. I look around the massive kitchen at the fresh produce lining the island. “Kraft Mac and Cheese?”
Ghost whips his head toward me. “Is that really all you would like?”
I shrug, my heart leaping into action as he fixes me with that faceless mask. “Um… If you have it, that is. I could also do, like, cheese cubes and crackers.”
“There is no nutritional value in cheese cubes and crackers, Brett ,” Ghost says, his voice slightly aghast. “Much less in boxed mac and cheese. This will not do.”
I frown, crossing my arms over my chest. “Listen, buddy. Boxed mac and cheese got me through most of my adult life. Don’t knock it.”
Ghost shakes his head, pulling open the fridge and pulling out a myriad of ingredients. “I will make you chicken lo mein. I have seen you eat that many times. At least that has some protein.” He grumbles the last part under his breath, and I have to stifle my giggle.
Ghost begins chopping vegetables, staring intently at his hands the whole time he does it. I’m so enamored by his concentration that I don’t realize I’m staring until he whips his head up, meeting my gaze head-on.
“Is something the matter?” he asks, returning his gaze to his hands as he makes another chop.
I mull over the thoughts running through my mind, debating whether I should tell him. “No. I was just thinking how hot you look when you’re cooking for me.”
A choking noise leaves Ghost’s throat, and he whips his head up again. “I—what did you?—”
“Holy shit!” I screech, holding a hand over my mouth as I stare down at Ghost’s hand. Thick crimson liquid pours from his hand, pooling onto the countertop and coating the vibrant veggies in that same dark shade. “Ghost, your hand!”
He’s still looking at my face, unmoving. After a moment or two, he visibly shakes, then turns his eyes to where my finger is outstretched, pointing in horror.
“Shit.” He lets out a heavy sigh, placing the knife down before grabbing a dishcloth and pressing it to the wound. Bright red coats the cloth in minutes, and Ghost lets out another irritated sigh while I watch on, frozen.
“You… I’m so sorry,” I whisper, a tremor of guilt sh ooting down to my bones. “I didn’t realize you had to look to stop that from happening.” I’m the worst. I knew what those words would do to him, yet I still teased him.
Remembering I have legs, I hop up from the barstool and race around the island, taking Ghost’s wrapped hand between mine.
“Here,” I murmur, pulling him toward the sink. “We have to clean it so it doesn’t get infected. Then I’ll bandage it for you. I’m no doctor, but I’ll try my best,” I promise, pulling the cloth away to get a better look at the cut. Immediately, thick red begins pooling from the wound, and I hiss through my teeth. It’s deep. Probably going to need stitches.
“I’m so sorry, Ghost,” I whisper, tears pricking the corner of my eyes even though he’s the one who’s hurt. “I never would have said that if I knew?—”
“Please… please don’t say that,” he murmurs, turning his face from mine. “I would rather go through this than to never hear you say those sweet words.”
My pulse spikes, and I have to focus on taking even breaths as I start to wash his hand under the sink. I take a dime size of soap into my palm, gently rubbing the streaked blood from the rest of his hand. I know he can’t feel anything, but it would still feel wrong if I started going to town with the cleaning. Though he can’t feel pain, his skin is still sensitive and needs to be treated as such.
Ghost watches my movements, his body rigid. “Why are you being so kind to me?”
I shrug. “Because the world is not.” I pull his hand from the water, grabbing a fresh cloth and pressing it to the wound to quell the bleeding. “Where’s your first-aid kit?”
Ghost points under the sink. “All over the house. But I do have one right here. As you’ve seen why.”
I wince, wracked with guilt at knowing I’m the cause of this injury, even if he says he doesn’t care. Pushing the guilt aside, I place the kit on the counter, my mouth going wide as I take in the myriad of equipment stuffed inside. This is not a normal first-aid kit. It almost looks like a mini crash cart.
“Sutures should be at the top, along with the bandages.” Ghost nods toward a small rectangular package dressed in nondescript white paper. “They’re already threaded, so you don’t need to worry about that.”
“Right. Gotcha.” I pull out the pack, and I’m in the process of opening it when Ghost pulls it from my fingers.
“As much as I would love for you to do this, I have much more experience, darling.” As if to prove his point, he pulls out a suture with one hand and begins threading the needle into his skin. Within minutes, he has a ladder of perfectly straight stitches running along the length of the wound, which he ties off and cuts with his teeth.
“Damn. Guess you do know what you’re doing,” I say, digging into the box for the aforementioned bandages. My fingers curl around the large cotton wrap, and I hold it against my chest when he attempts to pull this from me as well.
“Not a chance. I know how to wrap a wrist. Put it here,” I say, holding out a hand expectantly. Ghost sighs but still places his hand in mine, and I wrap the wound. The real reason I want to do it is because I fear he will be too rough with the wound. I know he’s done this thousands of times by the state of his hands, but it also looks like he’s given zero care to his skin’s comfort.
Once I’m done with the wrap, I place my lips gently against his knuckles, holding his hand tight when he tries to flinch back reflexively.
“I still can’t believe it,” he murmurs, pushing into the embrace now that the initial shock is over. “You’re a goddess, Brett.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” I mumble, my cheeks flaming. I release his hand, turning to close the first-aid kit and place it back under the sink.
When I straighten, Ghost is looking at the countertop, his shoulders shaking. “Ghost?” I ask, stepping up next to him. “You okay?” I reach out, but as soon as my fingertips touch his shoulder, he reels back.
He places his head in his palms, his chest heaving as shudders wrack his entire body. “ I’m so sorry. I ruined it.”
I frown at his tone. I’ve never heard anything like it before. He sounds… tortured. I look at where his gaze is trained and find he’s staring at the vegetables, now coated with his blood. Dinner. He’s upset because he thinks he ruined dinner for me.
“Ghost, it’s okay,” I murmur, approaching slowly like you would a spooked horse. “We can make something else for dinner. Everything is oka?—”
“ I ruin everything,” he whispers, that same cracked voice echoing off the walls. “I just want to be good. Why can’t I do something good? ”
Okay, something is seriously wrong. “Hey, hey, hey. It’s okay,” I whisper, placing my hand carefully on his cheek. When he doesn’t try to jerk away from me, I slowly slide my arms around his shoulders, hugging his head into my chest. He shudders, but he lets me hold him, and after a few minutes, his breathing evens.
“It’s okay,” I whisper, rubbing soothing circles on his back. “I got you. Everything’s okay now.”
His chest shakes slightly as he wraps his arms around my waist, pushing his face into me. “ I’m sorry, Brett. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I don’t know why I thought I could ? —”
“Ghost, it’s okay,” I tell him, Grabbing his mask between my hands and pulling his face up. “Tell me—did someone die?” He shakes his head slowly. Though I know masks can’t have expressions, I would bet money that he’s frowning right now. “Okay… are me, you, Rupert, and Venom okay?”
He nods, his breathing slowing further. “Yes.”
“Then I don’t see what the big issue is.” I grin at him playfully before swooping in and pressing my lips to his mask. “See? If everything was ruined, I wouldn’t do that, now would I?”
Finally, Ghost straightens, still keeping his arms wrapped around me. His body still quakes, but it’s so much better than it was a few minutes ago—like he’s finally in his right mind again.
“I apologize,” he murmurs, turning his face down to look at me. “Sometimes I… forget where I am.”
“You don’t need to apologize. Not for that,” I whisper, pressing my cheek to his chest. My heart cracks thinking about where he went just a moment ago—about what caused him to react so strongly to a little blood on some vegetables. A moment later, rage takes the place of my sorrow, aimed entirely at the person who would abuse him in such a way. Suddenly, I wish I had access to my gun and their name. I would deal with them accordingly.
The thought shocks me, and I pull back from Ghost with wide eyes. What the fuck? That’s not me. I’m not a killer.
“Brett? What’s wrong?”
“Ah, nothing.” I shake my head, then try to give him a convincing smile.
“You’re a terrible liar, Brett.”
I sigh, crossing my arms and dropping my eyes to the floor. “I’m just hangry, that’s all. Any chance you get delivery around here?”
Ghost chuckles, the sound causing my mood to brighten. “Not a single one. Luckily, I think I have something better.”
He swoops over to the freezer, pulling out a slim cardboard box. He places it on the counter happily, waiting for my response. I look down at the package, noting the large, smiling dumpling on the front.
“I’ve never had soup dumplings before. Let’s give them a try.”
I expect Ghost to chuck the box into the microwave as soon as I say it, but to my surprise, he doesn’t move. I look over, my brows raised at the tenseness in his shoulders.
“You… have never had soup dumplings? How could this be?” He seems aghast at this information, and I can’t help but laugh. “I will rectify this immediately.”
Ghost makes quick work of the dumplings, returning from the microwave with the small plastic tray and a large soup spoon. “Here,” he says, placing the spoon in my hand. “It’s best to eat them in one bite.”
I shrug, picking one of the dumplings up and popping it in my mouth. Immediately, a burst of flavors coats my tongue, and I moan as I swallow the bite.
“My God… I’ve really been missing out.”
“Indeed,” Ghost murmurs, pushing the plastic tray closer to me. “They are all for you.”
I turn my head, narrowing my eyes. “What about you?”
“I only have one box left. I would much rather you ate it.”
I shake my head with a sigh, picking up another dumpling on the spoon and shoving it toward his mouth—or rather, where his mouth is under that mask.
“Open,” I command, shoving the tip of the spoon closer for good measure. “I’m not going to sit here and eat the entire tray in front of you. That’s hella rude, so open.”
Ghost grumbles, but a moment later, the bottom half of his mask slides up, revealing his stubbled jaw and full, pink lips. In a moment of insanity, I consider reaching up and planting mine on his, but luckily, it passes.
I press the spoon against his bottom lip, and he opens, taking the dumpling. He makes a contented noise as he chews, his Adam’s apple bobbing heavily as he swallows it down.
Jesus, I must be really fucked in the head if the sight of him eating is sexy to me .
“Want another?” I ask, lowering the spoon to the tray. Ghost shakes his head, stepping behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist.
“It would make me much happier to see you eat something,” he murmurs, burying his face in my neck. His lips are still exposed, so he takes the opportunity to trail punishing kisses along the crook of my neck.
I have to focus on chewing so I don’t accidentally choke on the rest of the dumplings, and I nearly breathe a sigh of relief once the tray is empty. Finally, I can focus on Ghost’s lips ? —
He pulls away from me, and I want to scream in frustration. Why does he always pull away? Doesn’t he realize that I like what he’s doing to me?
I turn my head, noting how his hand is covering his crotch, desperately trying to cover it from my view. Oh shit. That’s why.
My face flames, and just when I think I can’t get any more embarrassed, Ghost’s apprentice waltzes into the kitchen.
“Ah, damn. Am I interrupting something?” His dark brows wiggle suggestively, and I have to turn my head to hide my mortification.
“If you keep making her uncomfortable, I will skin you alive.”
I look up at Ghost, his shoulders shaking lightly from thinly contained rage. Instinctively, I reach out and press a hand to his chest, and he seems to calm down slightly.
“You’re no fucking fun,” Orion whines, stepping over to the freezer and grabbing a box of taquitos. “Plus, I’d like to see you try, old man.”
I slap my hand over my mouth as a giggle threatens to break free, and I cast my head down as Ghost whips his face to mine. “What? It was funny.”
“Pleased I could be the butt of everyone’s jokes this evening,” he grumbles, though I swear I can detect a hint of amusement in his tone.
“Hah! You said butt. ” Orion keels over, his hands on his knees to keep him somewhat upright. “Loserrrr.”
If I could see his face, I’m sure Ghost would be rolling his eyes. “ Fucking teenagers, I swear.” He steps closer to me, hauling me tightly to his side. “And what did I tell you about that garbage?” Ghost nods at the box of taquitos in Orion’s hands. “If you want to be a Reaper, you need?—”
“ A proper diet for the mind and body. Yeah, yeah, whatever. These taste way better than those shitty smoothies you’re always trying to pass off on me. I’m here for a good time, not a long time.” This time, I giggle, which pleases Orion and equally pisses off the scary Phantom at my side. “See? She gets it!”
Ghost huffs, mumbling something under his breath that sounds a lot like, “Now it’s two against one… fantastic.”