The Crimson Z

by Robert Cloud, Lee Rush, Richard Savage

  "If you keep doing that,” she murmured, pressing her breasts into his hands. “I won't care about breakfast or anything but having wild sex on the nearest flat service."

  "Over my dead ... er ... vaporous body!” Virginia protested. “I spent hours preparing this meal.” She started to pull the carafe from the coffee maker.

  Anne grasped the handle and straightened. The mood momentarily shattered. “How about some coffee?"

  Jason blinked. “Ah ... sure.” The confusion reflected in his eyes.

  Taking a couple of breaths, Anne filled two mugs. “There you go.” She handed them to him. “Would you put these on the table?” As soon as his back was turned, she mouthed the words ‘go away’ to the shimmering specter floating in the middle of the kitchen.

  Anne slipped on the mitts, then picked up the casserole and turned. The heat from the casserole seeped through a thin spot in the oven mitts, searing her hand. In a knee jerk reaction, she released the dish, and it slipped through her hands. At her soft cry of alarm, Jason turned.

  "No,” Virginia cried and dove for the casserole, diving for it like a runner for the home plate. Transparent hands caught it and righted it before it tipped the contents on to the ceramic tile floor.

  The casserole drifted over to the table.

  "What the hell?” Jason exclaimed, a deep crevice between his brows as it settled on the trivet.

  How was she going to explain this? Nothing she could think of could explain the casseroles near plunge and then flight to the table. Perhaps the truth was the best, even though she wasn't sure how he would react. This certainly would be the acid test of their relationship. They'd had amazing sex, sizzling chemistry, but would it be too much to thrust Virginia's tale on him as well?

  "Anne, did that casserole just stop mid-air and then float over to the table?"

  She nodded. “When I dropped it Virginia ... she's a ghost who lives here ... caught it and took it to the table."

  "A ghost?” He scrubbed his hand across his face. “Are you trying to tell me this place is haunted?"

  "You remember I told you that we found a body in the basement yesterday."

  He nodded.

  "Well, it belonged to Virginia Marshall, the previous owner of the house. She was murdered, and her body was walled up in the cold room. She can't cross over to wherever spirits go until she finds out who killed her.” The words rushed out before she lost her courage.

  Skepticism glinted in hazel eyes. Anne swallowed hard. Why couldn't she have at least had some time together before she shared Virginia's existence?

  "Let me show him,” Virginia said, gliding toward him.

  "Virginia!” Anne watched her pick up a cinnamon bun, then another, and waved in front of his nose.

  Jason jerked back, the surprise in his expression turning darker. “What kind of parlor trick is this? Some kind of hypnosis?"

  "Hypnosis!” Virginia snorted, then picked up a muffin, juggling the three items in the air in front of his nose. “What I wouldn't give for a few chains to rattle! But then I'd probably wrap it around his unbelieving throat."

  His gaze moved from the food floating in front of him to Anne. Uncertainty replaced the irritation.

  "No tricks, Jason. I wouldn't have believed it myself if I hadn't seen her."

  "You've seen her?” Skepticism laced every carefully enunciated word.

  In that instant, Anne knew she'd lost him. “Virginia please put the food down. It's hard to concentrate with you waving those things around."

  The transparent figure dropped them on the table then drifted toward Jason.

  "Give me a few minutes, and I'll make a believer of him."

  "Leave him alone!” Anne warned. She didn't think Virginia would hurt him, but she didn't want him scared or traumatized.

  "I suppose you are talking to the ghost.” Jason folded muscular arms across his chest. “Okay, let's just suppose for a minute that the house really is haunted, and she's here. Get her to show herself to me."

  "Only the person in possession of the necklace can see her.” Inspiration struck. She lifted the chain of the necklace from around her neck and pressed it against his palm and then curled his fingers around it.

  "Hi, Jason.” Virginia lifted her hand and wiggled her fingers at Jason glad that Annie had tried letting him hold the necklace. He was perfect for her, and she didn't want to be the reason he bolted. “I'm Virginia Marshall."

  He sucked in a deep breath, his eyes wide as they focused on her.

  "Actually, I think Anne would have preferred to wait for a bit to tell you about me, if ever, but now it's done, why don't we get to know each other?

  Jason blinked, then looked around the room. “This is a joke, right? Where are the mirrors?"

  "I can see you are going to be as hard to convince as Annie.” She drew a transparent finger from his crotch to his waistband. He gasped at the bold caress and jerked back. “Need more proof?” She undid the button and pulled the zipper down over his semi-aroused penis. “Nice package! Loads of potential."

  "Virginia!” Anne protested as she took a step toward him.

  Virginia slipped her hand into his boxers and curled her hand around his half-aroused cock and stroked, drawing it out through the slit in his boxers as it began to swell. “Very nice indeed."

  "What the hell?” he gasped his voice raspy. He looked down, shaking his head. “This can't be."

  "Jason, I'm sorry. Virginia, stop this instant.” Anne didn't need to be able to see her to know what Virginia was doing as she watched Jason's penis emerge from his pants.

  "Hold out your hand,” Jason said. “Virginia has an idea."

  "Virginia has too many ideas if you ask me,” Anne muttered, then held out her hand in spite of her misgivings. “They aren't all good ones."

  He looped the chain around her wrist while he held onto the pendant. Instantly, Virginia was visible.

  "Can you see her?” he asked.

  She nodded. “So, you a believer now?

  "I guess so.” He looked down at his aroused penis sticking upright from his body, a clear drop of pre-cum forming at the slit of the helmet-shaped head. “It's hard to deny the evidence."

  Relief flowed through her.

  "How about breakfast before it gets cold?” Virginia interjected.

  "How can you think about food at a time like this?” Anne asked.

  "I invested too much time in it to let it go to waste."

  "Virginia made all this? How?” Jason enquired. “It's one thing to feel a person up, but to grasp solid objects...” His voice trailed away.

  "I'm not one hundred percent sure, but I'd bet it has something to do with sex.” The words slipped out before she could stop them.

  "I beg your pardon?"

  Anne repeated what Virginia had said about gaining energy from sexual climaxes.

  "And you two were better than a nuclear generator,” she said with a grin. “Potent or what!"

  Anne watched ruddy color wash across Jason's cheeks, mentally chiding the irrepressible spirit. “Virginia, do you have to be so blunt?"

  "It was a compliment"

  Jason shook his head, a lop-sided smile playing on his lips. “I take it death hasn't dulled your appetite for sex."

  "Maybe my appetite, but not my interest. If you eat up, I'll show you how to get to the playroom. You might enjoy some of the toys. I'll go tidy the attic up a bit while you eat. It's collected a bit of dust in the last thirty years."

  She vanished, and Jason released the pendant. He exhaled slowly, shaking his head from side to side. “I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that ghosts exist. She's a spirited spirit."

  "That's for sure."

  Anne looked at his arousal still standing out from his body, moisture pooling along the crack of her sex.

  He followed her gaze and offered a rueful grin. “I guess he'll have to wait for a bit.” He pushed his cock back inside his pants, wincing as he tugged up the zipper. “I don'
t want to see what she'd do if we didn't eat this breakfast."

  "Probably something that we would enjoy,” Anne replied, feeling more relaxed, almost light-hearted. It had to be a reaction to the tension of the last few minutes.

  He pulled out a chair, and Anne sat, then he took the seat beside her. “You said Virginia was murdered? Who killed her and what does she expect you to do about it?"

  She took the cloth napkin and spread it across her knee. “She doesn't know. The killer hit her from behind. That's why she needs me to help her find her killer, then she can pass over to wherever spirits go."

  "That sounds dangerous. If he or she has killed once, what's to stop her from killing you?” he said.

  "I hadn't really thought about the logistics. I've just been trying to get used to the idea that I'm sharing my home with a precocious spirit.” Anne cut a square of the breakfast casserole, put it on Jason's plate, then cut another and put it on a plate for her, hungry for food as well as for him.

  Jason gave a soft laugh. “That she is."

  They were just finishing up their meal when Virginia materialized.

  "Okay, people, time to play!"

  Chapter Seven

  "Follow me!"

  "Virginia says to follow her.” Anne looked at Jason, wondering what Virginia had in store for them. What ever it was, it would probably be lewd, and laced with awesome sex. Their eyes met and a mischievous spark danced in his eyes. He looped his baby finger around the chain and glanced in Virginia's direction.

  "Lead the way!” With his other hand, he drew Anne away from the table. “Time to play,” he murmured. “I think I'm really beginning to like your ghost."

  Anne's body tingled with anticipation as they climbed the stairs and followed the flowing specter to her bedroom, then into the large walk in closet.

  Virginia pointed to a panel with a triquetra engraved into the wood. “Push this one, it will unlatch the door."

  Jason reached over Anne's shoulder and gave the square of wood a push, and they heard a click, then it swung open. He glanced over his shoulder before he stepped forward.

  "The light switch is over here. I took the liberty of turning it on for you.” She drifted up the stairs. “Most of the time we used candles, but every once in a while this was more convenient."

  Anne stepped through the doorway and found herself at the bottom of a polished, wood staircase. The banister and railings were carved and gleaming. Not the normal bare, rough wood staircase she'd expected.

  "After you,” Jason said, then pressed his palm against the small of her back.

  She climbed the stairs, not knowing what to expect, but judging from the mischievous look in Virginia's eyes, it wouldn't be tame. At the top, she paused, allowing her eyes to adjust to the subtle lighting. Stained glass windows muted the midday sunlight.

  Instead of bare rafters, wood polished to a satiny shine covered the ceiling and walls. Anne turned on her heel, scanning the elegant space. Alcoves lined the walls. She squinted trying to figure out what the strange tables and other contraptions residing in each inset area were for.

  "My God,” Jason murmured. “This is exactly like the Inner Sanctum at the Chrysalis on a smaller scale."

  The Chrysalis. The Inner Sanctum was for privileged members only—an ability to pay was only a part of the admission. There was an interview as well. Mark hadn't passed muster. Anne wasn't a surprise that Jason was a member of such an exclusive club. He had an inner finesse that Mark lacked. Only she hadn't experienced or understood it until now.

  "The Chrysalis? Clay Montgomery's club is still in business?” Virginia swung around in a sparkling lavender mist.

  "Still in business? It's thriving,” Jason answered. “He owns clubs in several cities now."

  "Clay always was determined to make a success of his club. I'm happy for him.” Virginia skimmed over the floor and pointed to the first alcove, in a not-so-subtle move to change the topic.

  The shimmering lavender haze dissolved and returned to Virginia's normal opalescent glow. The resident ghost might be transparent, but she wasn't good at hiding her emotions. The mention of the Chrysalis and Clay Montgomery had affected her. Anne made a mental note to ask Virginia about Clay later.

  Anne turned and looked at the first alcove, closest to the top of the stairs, which resembled a super-sized closet with an organizer.

  Virginia grinned, but there was a melancholy in her eyes that hinted she wasn't quite over the emotions the mention of Clay's name had evoked. “We called this the Attic Club. Members left their clothes here, before going any further.” With a sweeping gesture, she indicated toward the floor. An inlaid strip of mahogany in the hardwood interrupted the honey colored wood. “No clothes were allowed beyond this point."

  She crossed her arms and tapped her foot.

  "You don't actually expect us to undress,” Anne protested, suddenly feeling shy, which seemed hypocritical after yesterday. Yes, with the dawn of a new day, some of her shyness had returned.

  "It's not like you haven't seen each other naked."

  "True,” Anne replied. “But stripping in the heat of the moment is different than ... this.” In the daylight, when she wasn't burning up with lust, it was harder to peel away her clothes and toss aside inhibitions.

  "It's easier than you think, Anne. I'll start,” Jason said, as he peeled his tee shirt over his head, baring a muscular plane shadowed by brown whorls of hair.

  "Virginia,” she whispered, then scanned the area, but her ghostly companion was nowhere to be seen.

  Jason cupped her face. “Forget her. I can. Let me give you a tour."

  "You've done this before.” Anne grasped the top button of her blouse, her fingers fumbling as she watched him open his jeans and slip them over his hips, exposing revealing skimpy briefs

  "A time or two,” Jason said with a smile. “Let me help.” He undid the top button of her blouse, then traced the small v opening with a fingertip before he slid his hands along the fabric to the next one. It popped open, exposing the pale curve of her breasts. He did the last three buttons one right after the other, then drew a line with his fingertip from the flat plain of her breastbone, in the valley between her breasts, then over the soft curve of her stomach. Her skin seemed to come alive, sending tingles along every nerve ending in her body. Her areolas tightened as need weighted her breasts, heat and pressure pooled at the apex of her thighs.

  He smiled then slid his hands under the cotton fabric, pushing it aside, exposing the aroused mounds of flesh. His hands drifted upward and pushed the garment off her shoulders. As the shirt slid down her arms, his hands followed, skimming over her arms. Instead of feeling awkward, his touch freed her from her inhibitions and the tenderness warming his eyes melted any remaining reservations. She looked up and smiled.

  "See,” he murmured, drawing his fingertips down the side of her face. “Now, wasn't that easy?” He looked at his briefs pulled tight over his swollen organ. “Why don't you give me a hand?"

  "I guess I should return the favor.” Anne slipped her fingers inside the elastic of his underwear, and then tugged it down. His penis bounced, standing away from his body and rising from a nest of brown curls.

  On his groin, just above the coarse pubic hair, was a tattoo in the shape of a triquetra—the same sign that was on Virginia's necklace and on the wood panel of the door to the attic. He took her finger and traced the design, his swollen shaft twitched. “This provides your admittance to the Inner Sanctum."

  He picked up their clothes and folded them, then slid them onto a shelf in the closet alcove. He laced his fingers in hers, then drew her forward to the next alcove.

  "The first and only time you stop at this alcove is during your first visit."

  The rounded, wood-paneled walls rose to a dome ceiling. In the centre was a low table, and beside it a chair on wheels. “Let's pretend it's your first night. Lay down."

  "Okay."

  He sat in the chair and pulled open a drawer u
nder the narrow upholstered bed. “Amazing."

  "What?"

  "Everything is an exact replica of the Inner Sanctum suite, just scaled down a bit."

  "So you do you think that Virginia based her Attic Club on the Inner Sanctum."

  "Or visa versa. IS has been around for about three decades."

  Anne couldn't believe she was lying naked on a table, having a conversation about the history of the most notorious members’ only club in the city. “So, what happened here that you could do only once?"

  "This is where a tattoo artist would give you the Chrysalis mark. A mark given to only a favored few."

  Anne's gaze dropped to his groin. “It must have hurt."

  "A bit.” He leaned over and traced the symbol on the side of her breast. “A woman would have her mark placed here."

  The light touch started heated hunger simmering deep inside her. She looked into his eyes and heat flared in their deep brown depths.

  He stood up, and extended his hand toward her. “From here, you can go anywhere you want to."

  She grasped his hand and got off the table. Her gaze traveled from the tanned skin stretched over his thigh muscles, to the smooth plain of his abdomen, and then to the rippling muscles of his chest—each a testament to hours spent in the gym. But most intriguing to her, were the whorls of hair on his chest. She stroked the small curls with her fingertips. Dime sized, dark brown nipples puckered.

  He didn't attempt to stop her but allowed her to explore the dips and planes of his chest. This slow exploration was so different than her experiences the day before. Then, a heady, wanton hunger had been the driving force behind her actions. This time, a newly awakening passion drew from a deeper well, stealing her breath as she lifted her gaze and met his. From the first time her body had rippled around his in climax, she'd felt a connection. A connection that was growing stronger with each look and every touch.

  "In the Chrysalis, each club member can reserve an alcove, sometimes two. I'm not sure if that's what they did here, but the toys are the same.” This alcove had leather cuffs hung from a metal bar suspended on a thick wire. Below, in the floor large metal rings different widths apart were imbedded into the floor. On the walls and shelves were a variety of whips, chains, wooden paddles and several items Anne couldn't identify, and probably didn't want to.