by S. E. Harmon
Thank God. I sank into one of the chairs sideways with a low groan and propped up my legs on the arm, letting my bare feet dangle. My offer of help had been total bullshit. I had my guy, a cold beer, some hot food on the way, and I didn’t have to lift a finger. Life didn’t get better than that.
Done babysitting his meat children, Danny sat down in the Adirondack next to me. He watched with an upraised eyebrow as I examined the beer label. It was one of those craft beers he swore by. I was more of a make sure it’s cold kind of beer guy, but I gamely took a swallow.
It was strong, crisp, and tasted faintly of apple. At my sound of appreciation, he clicked his tongs in approval and hung them on his chair arm. I chuckled. “How far off is dinner, chef?”
“Steak tacos in five minutes.”
“Sounds good.” I snapped my fingers. “Oh, I almost forgot. If you’re leaving earlier than me, we should probably switch spots now. You centered the driveway. Again.”
“I centered the driveway because you’re supposed to be parking in the garage,” he said, leaning back and lacing his fingers behind his head. “Is that why you’ve been parking behind me? I assumed you just enjoyed playing musical cars in ratty pajamas at the crack of dawn.”
“But your other car is in the garage.”
“I got rid of that car two weeks ago.” His brow furrowed. “Remember? I gave it to my mother.”
“I knew you wanted to,” I said delicately. I tiptoed around all topics related to his mother. She still hadn’t forgiven me for breaking Danny’s heart the first time and didn’t mind letting us know it. “That incident on the freeway had you pretty worried.”
I’d been in the car when she called him in a tizzy because she’d broken down on the middle of the interstate in rush hour traffic. I didn’t particularly care for the old bat, but even I’d been concerned. The word “concern” didn’t quite cover Danny’s emotions. He had flipped on the sirens and made a U-turn so fast that I nearly got whiplash. So yeah, I knew he wanted to give her a newer car. I was just surprised she finally accepted his offer. Paula McKenna was just as stubborn and proud as her son—sometimes it really was shocking they weren’t blood related.
Danny answered my unasked question. “I’ve been wearing her down. I even pulled out the big guns and guilted her a little. Told her I wanted her to be around when we finally gave her some grandpets.” He smiled slyly. “Surely we can find some dog who’ll tolerate you.”
Bastard. I’d opened my mouth to zing him back, when something he’d said filtered in. “We? As in you and me?”
“That is the definition of we. Look at you, being all genius-y and shit.”
“Thank you,” I said dryly.
“It’s win-win really,” he went on. “Now I don’t have to hear about the sun ruining your precious Beemer’s paint job.”
All in all, it was a pretty great surprise. Only… it got me thinking about the bigger picture. Clearing out the garage for my car was a definitive step forward… wasn’t it? Or was it just a courtesy?
“So we’re on the same page?” Danny asked. “You’re parking in the garage?”
“Yeah,” I finally said, “of course.”
“Good,” he said, his mouth curving up a little. “I do think it’s a little strange you haven’t thanked me properly yet.”
I laughed before I obliged, leaning over to give him a lingering kiss. His mouth was warm and soft, and he tasted faintly of beer. Or maybe I did. At that point, I wasn’t sure and it didn’t seem to matter as we took our time exploring each other’s mouths.
Something that was supposed to be sweet and affectionate threatened to morph into something else, and I pulled back, determined to keep things gentle and easy. It was fucking difficult. I wanted to straddle him and fuck under the stars, heat and mosquitos be damned. I’d like to say it was modesty that stopped me. Truthfully, I just didn’t want to start anything we couldn’t finish.
As if to punctuate that thought, his phone timer went off. When I tried to pull away, he anchored a hand in my hair and kissed me some more. He finally pulled back with a groan and grabbed his phone. He swiped his thumb across the screen and the annoying noise stopped. “Gotta get the um… the you know.”
“Steak kabobs?” I blinked at him innocently.
He narrowed his eyes at me even as he grabbed his tongs. I tried to ogle him as he hustled for the grill, but his shorts were annoyingly loose. I couldn’t even get a good glimpse of that ass. I cursed steak kabobs and baggy basketball shorts and punctual iPhone timers all in the same breath.
He took the steak kabobs off the fire and piled them on a plate. Avidly, I watched as he used the tongs to slide the meat down and off the skewer. My stomach growled, forcing me out of my comfy chair. I drifted closer in case he needed an emergency taste tester.
I reached for a piece of steak and nearly got bopped again—only quick reflexes saved me. I poked him in the side. “Hurry up, I’m hungry.”
“You’re a menace,” he accused.
I didn’t deny it. “And you’re a whiz on the grill. It makes me forgive you for your lesser skills.”
He raised an eyebrow. “What lesser skills?”
“Surely we don’t have that much time.”
His eyes sparkled. “Obviously the only way to shut you up is to put something in your mouth. And not that,” he added before I could speak. “Here. Taste this.”
He held out a piece of steak for me to take and I did, making sure to lick his fingers thoroughly. A burst of lime and salt exploded on my tongue and I made a sound of approval as I chewed.
“I love those sounds you make.”
I opened my eyes at Danny’s husky tone, not really knowing when I’d closed them. His nostrils were flared and his pupils a little dilated. His baggy basketball shorts finally stopped being a cockblocking bitch and let me see the outline of his dick.
I sent him a warning look. “Don’t make tacos sexual for me. Please. You’ve already ruined spaghetti.”
“What was I supposed to do?” he asked with a small grin. “You had sauce on your mouth.”
“Did I have sauce on my dick? Because that’s not how I remember it.”
He laughed and hung the tongs on the grill lid. Then he hooked his thumbs in the beltloops of my shorts and pulled me closer. “I showered,” I informed him.
“I can tell. You smell like that stuff your mom sent over for us to test.”
“Yeah, well, like a good son, I tested it. Remind me to check never again on the comment card for chocolate mint body foam.”
“Originally, I agreed with you, but I’m starting to change my mind.” He stuck his nose in my neck and breathed me in. “You smell like a York Peppermint Patty.”
“I don’t want to talk about my mother’s questionable taste in soap,” I clarified. “I want to be fucked.”
“That can be arranged.” His voice was decidedly hoarse.
He doused the grill, sending up billows of angry steam. I warned him to be careful and he nodded, face flushed from the heat. Gray ash flaked in the air and settled like summer cook-out snow. He looked at me expectantly.
I stared back until I realized that was the green light. I fucking hit the gas, sticking my hands in his shorts. When I grasped the firm globes of his butt and squeezed, he sucked in a breath. I squeezed harder as he struggled to stay still—I could’ve saved him some time and effort. I knew all the spots on his body that made him lose his mind. I could have him coming in a minute, or keep him on a razor’s edge for a half hour.
I sank to my knees and pulled on his shorts. They were loose enough that just a little tug made them fall off, where they pooled around his feet. The scent of his arousal hit me hard as I stared at his dick, and my mouth actually watered.
I leaned forward, taking him in my mouth as deep as possible, and he groaned so loud I could feel the vibrations in my throat. He stumbled back a few inches to brace himself on the porch railing, pulling out of my mouth a few inches, and I took
him back down again. A flash of gray crossed the edge of my vision and before I could identify what it was, I heard an unfamiliar voice.
“God, I love the way you do that. It’s like your mouth is made for sucking cock.”
My eyes flew open and I pulled off, startled. There was a guy standing next to the grill. His jeans were ripped and skintight, and his sequined top glittered as he moved. Dark eyes were lined with eyeliner, making them seem even smokier and intense.
“I got next,” he said with a leer.
Why is there a fucking club kid on my deck?
Danny’s voice was hoarse with urgency. “Baby, don’t stop now.”
I tried to refocus, and I rubbed my palms up and down those strong, corded thighs. The taut muscles there quivered under my touch. His skin was slick and smooth with a fine sheen of sweat.
“Fuck, he’s hot,” the ghost purred, sidling a little closer. “I don’t even think I’d need any X to get going for him.” His laugh was hard as diamond and just as transparent. “’Course, if that idiot DJ didn’t give me bad X to begin with, I wouldn’t even be here.”
I tried to tune him out, especially as he started to pinch and rub his own nipples, but my mind was racing. This was the most invasive a ghost had ever been during our intimate times. It was the verbal equivalent of a bucket of icy cold water. In my younger years, I might’ve daydreamed once or twice about a threesome, but they were just that—fantasies. I didn’t want to share Danny with anyone, and not just in a jealous way. What we shared was too personal, and too special.
Realizing Danny was staring at me in confusion, I gave him a smile meant to be reassuring. It didn’t land. He cupped my jaw with a hand that was big and warm. “We don’t have to do anything if you’re too tired.”
“I’m not too tired.”
“You wouldn’t admit it if you were,” he said with a crooked smile. “I’m just saying it would be okay if you weren’t into it.”
“I’m always into you,” I said firmly.
The head of his cock leaked precum against his stomach, and I leaned forward to lick at the mess. His skin was warm and soft, the taste slightly salty. His stomach muscles jumped and quivered under my skilled tongue. I was about to take him in my mouth again when I saw the ghost reaching out to touch Danny.
“Don’t you fucking touch him,” I snapped without thinking. Danny jerked in my grip, his eyes startled and wide. The ghost flashed me his middle finger and disappeared in a huff, but the mood was ruined. Trying to force things was only making it worse.
I let out a sigh, sat back on my heels, and scrubbed at my face with both hands. Maybe I could still rent a tuxedo in time to attend the Cocktease awards.
“I’m sorry,” I finally said. “I need to stop.”
Danny looked down at me, eyes crinkled at the corners with concern. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong. I just…. We weren’t alone and I just….”
“Hey, hey.” He pulled me up gently. “Look at me. It’s going to be okay.”
“Is it?”
“It is,” he said firmly. “We can do this some other time. Let’s get some food in you, yeah? And then maybe some rest would be nice.”
“You sound like my mother.”
“I’m all right with that. Your mother is cool.” His mouth lifted on one side. “But maybe let’s not mention her when my dick is out.”
I had to laugh. As far as requests went, it wasn’t unreasonable.
A face loomed in front of me, discolored and bloated. One of the eye sockets was hollow and black, and as I watched, a spider skittered out of it. My hands flew up without conscious thought and I tried to push him back. Seaweed crisscrossed his body, and the air suddenly smelled briny as the ocean.
I was certain I’d never seen him before, although, it was hard to reconcile the horror in front of me with an actual human face. That was strange in and of itself because ghosts usually kept their favorite form. They never thought of themselves in their murdered state unless the emotion became too much. So this had to be a dream, right?
“I don’t know who you are,” I tried to say, but my speech was unnaturally slurred and slow. “Do I?”
The lone eye in that long, distorted face bored a hole in me. Dark ropes of tangled, matted hair curled around his neck like vines. He reached for me so suddenly that I didn’t have a chance to move. He gripped the bottom of my face, holding me in place. I gasped from the coldness of those long, bony fingers and then struggled against his hold. It was impossible to break. His mouth stretched into an impossibly wide grin of black, broken teeth. His face started to melt, sagging off his bones to puddle at his feet like wax off a dripping candle.
“What’s your name?” I asked, my voice a whisper. “Who are you?”
The skeleton grinned at me, smile as misshapen and crooked as a jack-o-lantern. When he spoke, his voice sounded like a thousand voices merged into one, strange, hollow tone. “Help me,” the gaping mouth demanded. “I don’t want to die, die, die.”
I came awake with a soundless gasp and jackknifed up in bed.
I sat there a moment, quietly assessing, my pulse rabbit fast. I scrubbed a hand down my face and then fumbled for the lamp on my nightstand. I flipped the little switch and the room was suddenly flooded with light.
My gaze landed on Danny, sleeping peacefully on his back, one arm behind his head and the other across his chest. I stared at him for a few seconds, glad I hadn’t woken him up with my nonsense. He looked so young when he slept, especially with those thick, almost girlish lashes fanned against his cheeks and the dark hair he usually kept tamed with product in a wild, soft tumble. I ghosted my hand across his square, stubbled jaw, as though his presence alone could banish the nightmares.
“I made the appointment,” he said, eyes still closed. “We’re going in the morning.”
I froze. I should’ve known he was awake—the man didn’t sleep through a freaking sneeze. “You don’t even know what I was dreaming about.”
“Dream?” He opened his eyes and sat up, leaning on one elbow. “I’m pretty sure the proper term is nightmare.”
“Semantics.”
“You love semantics.” He reached over and rubbed a thumb underneath my eyes, and I didn’t need a mirror to know what he saw—dark circles and bags. I wasn’t getting a lot of rest and the cracks in my foundation were starting to show. “I hate to sound like a broken record, but—”
“I have things under control.”
“Talking to someone might help.” He shrugged. “And if you don’t like it, we can leave.”
His trustworthy look was a little worrisome. He used the same smile I used on my nieces when they were little, right before I insisted broccoli was delicious alone, and cheddar cheese was a crutch.
“I don’t know if tomorrow is good for me,” I said. “Work doesn’t just stop because of one intrusive ghost.”
“One?” He was a picture of patient determination who wasn’t worried about getting his way. He was an immovable rock, and immovable rocks didn’t worry about the bluster of the ocean. “I really don’t think this can wait. Do you?”
It was a moment before I could speak in a neutral tone. “If it’s that important to you—”
“It is.”
I gritted my teeth. “Then I’ll go.”
I lay back down on the bed and stared up at the ceiling, subconsciously mapping the circles and grooves on the textured surface. I was doing my damnedest to process things rationally and not feel attacked, but I felt prickly and defensive. I also wanted to lash out and remind him of all the things he needed to work on, but that wouldn’t be fair.
“Rain.” When I looked his way, there was nothing accusatory or judgmental in his gaze, just patience and understanding. “What do you need?”
You. I slid my hand across his flat belly, enjoying the feel of all that smooth, warm skin against my sensitive fingertips. His stomach muscles jumped under my touch as I passed over them and I leaned over to
lick a slow path up the side of his neck. When I used my teeth a little on the delicate skin behind his ear, he shivered.
I did it once more, just to see him shiver again. “Want you inside me.”
He searched my eyes for another moment before his mouth curved. “So that’s our agreement now, is it?”
“Yes.” He watched avidly as I got to my knees and started working the knot of my plaid sleep pants. “I go to your stupid guru but first you fuck me until I’m satisfied. Doesn’t that sound fair?”
“I don’t know. Sounds like I’m getting the short end of the stick.”
“There’s nothing short about my stick, dollface.”
His eyes twinkled with amusement. “Idiot.”
“Come on, Irish,” I cajoled. “Don’t you want to help banish the bad dreams?”
“Maybe we can just get you a dreamcatcher, or something.”
Your dick can be my dreamcatcher. I gave up on the knot and pushed my pants down to my knees. Then I leaned forward, bracing my elbows on the mattress. I looked at him with a raised eyebrow, and he let out a muttered curse.
He struggled out of the clingy grasp of the covers as I waited impatiently. I wasn’t looking for romance and whispered touches. I needed him to ride me hard… to use my body until I couldn’t think about anything else. That’s if he didn’t strangle himself trying to get out of the covers so damned fast.
Finally he was behind me, his firm grip on my ass. “Fucking amazing,” he murmured more to himself than anyone else.
I wasn’t sure if he was talking about my anatomy or my brazenness, and I didn’t care. All I needed to know is that we were alone, and we were both ready. “Hurry before another ghost comes along,” I said.
That was enough to set spurs to his ass. He wasn’t happy about shortchanging the prep, but I didn’t care, not as long as it resulted in a hard, quick pounding. I got my wish before long as he worked his way inside of me, stretching me impossibly full. I groaned and pushed back for more. More, more, more. It took me a second to realize someone was muttering the word under his breath. It took another few seconds to realize that person was me.