Stolen Dreams

by Stacey Kennedy

  With a flick of my hair to dismiss him, I started down the street and soon I rounded onto Third Street. The ghost tried again, a little louder and more abrupt this time. “Dammit woman! Will you stop ignoring me? It’s annoying.”

  I’m annoying him? I wanted to laugh at the ridiculous notion, but it would only give me away. So instead, I kept my eyes glued to the street in front of me, wanting nothing more than to be home.

  A few blocks down, I turned onto G E Patterson Avenue, and my aching feet and head shouted in relief as my building came into view. On the outside, it appeared to be an old textile factory. Inside, it was anything but. The exact reason why I snatched one of the modern condos the day it’d gone on the market.

  I made my way up the stairs while I took my keys from my purse. At the thick mahogany wooden door, I raised my key pass to the scanner, grabbed the chrome door handle, and swung it open. After I hurried in, the door closed behind me with the ghost right on my heels.

  Just three doors down, I opened the door to my condo before slamming it closed behind me. Of course, it didn’t stop the ghost from melting through the door to invade my personal space.

  Tossing the keys on the kitchen table, I dropped my purse on the floor and went straight for the bathroom. If this sneaky spirit followed me, a serious fit would be released.

  As the bathroom closed shut behind me, I waited a moment, marvelling at my granite masterpiece. Large shower, corner Jacuzzi tub, modern sink with a glass bowl sitting atop, even the toilet looked sleek.

  After a moment, I let out the breath I’d been holding, pleased the ghost was smart enough to stay away from here. At least, he had some morals or maybe just common sense.

  What I needed was some space to breathe and the silence was pure bliss. At the shower, I turned on the water as hot as I could stand it, stripped off my clothes and stepped in to enjoy the moment of peace.

  It wasn’t until my fingers were wrinkled and the bathroom was full of steam did I dare to get out. I turned the shower off, squeezed the water from my hair, and wrapped the warm towel around my body. With hesitation, knowing what was ahead of me, I opened the door to the bathroom and followed the steam out as I made my way across the dark hardwood floors toward the bedroom.

  Halfway there, a sudden gasp―a deep, low gasp that spoke of shock and desire―stopped me.

  But it didn’t stop me for long. No, I couldn’t play into this type of nonsense. I scooted into my bedroom then shut the door behind me and leaned against it. What in the hell was that all about? Did he think I was beautiful? The thought did bring a smile to my face. But as fast as it came, I forced it away. What was I thinking? Being flattered by a ghost was about as sick as it came.

  Pushing those thoughts aside, I got dressed. Once done, I made my way back to the bathroom to take on the task of becoming a sexy kitten.

  A while later, I replaced the cap on my lip gloss, returned it to the make-up bag, and took a step back to examine myself in the mirror. My hair was being kind to me and my makeup was bang on. With my low-riding dark wash jeans and blue plaid three-quarter length sleeve top, tied to leave my midriff exposed, I couldn’t have been more pleased. At least, I would look sexy while I suffered through the embarrassing blind date.

  Right then, the familiar cold breeze swept across me again. I raised my gaze back from admiring my clothing to the mirror, I wasn’t alone. The ghost had joined me in the bathroom, and instinctively, I glanced at his face in the mirror.

  “You can see me?” he stared at me with intent.

  His eyes were so captivating. Everything in me screamed to look away and ignore him. But something in me just couldn’t do it. I wanted to be lost in those eyes. Who knew maybe that was his thing―a powerful presence which demanded he be heard. Whatever it was, it worked on me.

  Seconds passed before I snapped back to reality, tore my gaze from the mirror, spun around and walked right through him. My breath hitched as a cold shudder rendered my muscles useless for a moment. It was equivalent to walking into a deep freeze. Luckily, the effects weren’t long lasting.

  After my initial stagger, I persisted on and as I walked by the kitchen, the green numbers on my stainless steel stove glowed seven-fifty-eight. With sure steps, I hurried on and made it to the door, just needing to get the hell out of here and away from him. It’s one thing to see ghosts, another thing to help them if they demanded it, but to be attracted to one? This was beginning to linger into the land of the mentally unstable. I grabbed the door handle, tore through the door and didn’t stop for a second even as I heard him speak again.

  “By the way, you look sexy as hell.”

  ***

  Chapter Two

  On the walk downtown with Caley, my mood was beginning to settle right back to where it had been just a few hours ago―annoyed.

  “Will you stop looking so tight assed.” Caley gave my arm a firm squeeze.

  I smiled slyly in return. “My ass is tight.”

  Okay, maybe not as tight as when I was twenty, but I was only twenty-six now, careful of what I ate and was known to jog at least four times a week. It kept everything right where it should be.

  Caley threw her head back and laughed. “That it...”

  Another voice cut through, forcing Caley’s voice to drift away. “You’re fucking right about that,” the ghost groaned behind me.

  Caley stopped, which caused me to stumble. When I gained my footing again, I looked up to her as she gave me a curious glance. “What’s got you blushing?”

  My hands snapped up to my face and to my horror, my cheeks did feel warm. “I’m not blushing. I...I’m...I’m hot.”

  Caley shook her head in disbelief and started walking again. “Unless you somehow turned into a lesbian over the weekend and fallen for your best friend, you’re acting weird.”

  “I’m not a lesbian,” I responded with a nervous laugh. “And yes, I do love you.” Caley’s eyes widened and I laughed harder, the nerves now gone as amusement set in. “But not like that. Seriously, I’m just hot.”

  Just then, the ghost interrupted my lie in a rich husky tone, “So, this is how I get your attention is it?”

  The little purr which hung off his tone made me bite my bottom lip in an attempt not to focus on the little flickers of desire forming in my stomach. What had gotten into me? Lord, I needed to get some action if I was reacting like this to a non-living person. Clearly, I needed some attention.

  Shoving the reaction away, I focused back on Caley. “Tell me about the guy I’m hooking up with tonight?”

  “He’s just your type.” Caley wiggled her brows. “You’re going to thank me later.”

  “What do you mean my type?” I hadn’t been aware I had a type. Looking back now, it was true that most of my ex’s were athletes. In my mind, it was just all a coincidence. They were just who I ended up with. I liked men―all types of them. Never would I confine my options into a little box. Apparently, Caley had already taped the box shut.

  “He’s a pro baseball player,” Caley continued, drawing me away from my thoughts. “He’s down visiting his family for a couple days.”

  “A pro, huh?” All right, so maybe I was just fooling myself about not having a type, because hearing baseball player made my interest rise as my mind was swept away with images of skin-tight white pants and a scrumptious ass.

  Caley nodded, obviously reading my peak of excitement. “Yeah, he’s got the looks too.” Then, she nudged her shoulder into mine. “And the money.”

  “Women,” the ghost muttered, still following in behind.

  “So, what does he look like?” I ignored the ghost like the ghost he was.

  “Cute―you know, like baseball player cute.”

  Caley and her lame descriptions of men were frustrating. She put them into categories―cute and not cute. There was no black and white with her ever. “Well that narrows it down a lot.”

  “I know, they’re hot―what else matters.”

  We exchanged a laug
h then I sighed it away. “I take it yours is a ball player too?”

  Caley looked at me as if I had four eyes. “You think I’d give this hunk to you if there wasn’t one for me too.”

  “Right.” Stupid of me to think she’d give before she’d take. It just wasn’t in her nature to share. Caley was just Caley. Sure, she had a bit of a powerhouse personality, but she always had my back without question. A loyal friend I hoped never to be without. “Why did I assume otherwise?”

  Caley’s look was dead serious, her voice equally so. “I have absolutely no idea.”

  Another block swept under our clicking heels before we hit Beale Street. Only a short distance down stood our destination for the night.

  Coyote Ugly Saloon was in full swing tonight. The line-up of people outside meant an hour of waiting, but I wasn’t worried. I doubted we’d have to wait.

  “Brandon,” Caley called out and pulled on my arm.

  If I was hesitant to do this, my feelings on the subject changed. Caley must have known my type better than I knew it because either of the men standing before me would have fallen into the fantasy category.

  “So, glad you came,” Brandon said to Caley, his lips curved up slightly.

  A slow smile rose to Caley’s face. Oh yes, Brandon was a fortunate man―he was getting lucky tonight.

  “You must be Tess,” a kind murmur of a voice said. “I’m Trent.”

  My gaze connected with the voice and I smiled. “That’d be me. It’s nice to meet you, Trent.”

  He gave a firm nod and grinned as a little dimple deepened on his cheek. He wasn’t built like a brick house, he was slender, but still ripped. If his body fat was tested it’d be somewhere in the negatives. He held the typical all-American look―brown hair, blue-eyed, charming smile and with his dimple, I was sure he could woo his way into anyone’s bed. Maybe even mine if he played his cards right tonight.

  “I take it you play for Detroit?” The big white D on his navy blue hat made it an obvious assumption.

  Trent nodded. “Both Brandon and I do. We were lucky enough to get a little time off to see the family.”

  “Detroit.” The ghost huffed. “Figures, team sucks.”

  Ignoring the ghost’s snippy remark, I continued, “So, you grew up around here?”

  “I’ll be back,” Caley interrupted, heading off to the bouncer. If one good thing came from her charismatic pushy attitude, it was she knew everyone and was very hard to say no to. Even I had trouble doing it on a few occasions.

  “Born and raised,” Trent replied, just before Caley’s voice bellowed through the night sky.

  Turning toward her, she was wagging her hands calling me forward. I turned back to Trent, laughing. “We’ve been summoned.”

  He laughed too and followed in behind as we stepped past the irritated crowd and entered the bar. Loud country music, hoots and hollers rang out around me.

  Squeezing through the crowd, Caley pointed to a table across the way. I manoeuvred my way toward it. Once there, Trent held out the stool and motioned for me to sit. I smiled in return―a gentleman too. He was sure playing his cards right toward a royal flush.

  “What’s your drink?” Trent asked me as I sat down.

  A question not hard for me to answer because I only drank one thing. “A cold beer.” Didn’t matter what brand, beer was beer. As long as it was ice cold, I was happy.

  “My kind of lady.” Trent winked, then he and Brandon headed to the bar to get their drinks.

  Caley was beaming as I looked at her, literally bouncing up and down on her stool. “I did good, right?”

  I nodded, not at all ashamed with showing her how much I appreciated her pick for me. “Damn right, you did.”

  “Women,” the ghost said again from beside me.

  A deep sigh escaped my mouth. I’d forgotten all about him. But nothing was going to ruin my excitement now. It’d been a long time since I’d met anyone worth meeting. This ghost wasn’t going to put a damper on my fun. Dammit!

  Trent and Brandon returned to the table with four beers in hand. After claiming a glass, I took a long sip and sighed in happiness. After the day I had, it was what I needed. The cold beer refreshed the senses, revived the mood and removed the tension sitting heavy on my shoulders.

  When I lowered the beer, Trent grinned at me. “Looks like you enjoyed that.” He sounded amused and his voice rumbled with an obvious interest in me.

  I laughed flirtatiously to reciprocate the interest, licked the dribble of beer from my lips, and set the bottle down in front of me. “It’s good.” Curious about him, I asked, “Do you like playing ball?”

  Those were the last words I spoke for twenty minutes, and the beginning of a conversation I wished I’d never started. Caley, the traitor, had vanished onto the dance floor with Brandon which left me with this pompous stud.

  “I have really grown as a player...” Trent was saying.

  While his mouth worked, I wondered if every good-looking man was this self-involved? In most cases, I tried to stay away from anyone who looked too good. Anyone who spent more time in front of the mirror than I did was likely to care about only one thing―himself. Since I had the chance to think things over while I was doing whatever I could to not absorb anything he was saying, I realized my type wasn’t athletic, it was the more rugged kind. The ones who weren’t pretty, but rough and edgy. At least, I got that out of this time wasted in Trent Land.

  “This guy is a fucking joke,” the ghost snapped next to me.

  I wanted to turn my head and nod, but of course, didn’t. Instead, I continued to listen to Trent’s words without really hearing what he had to say. I merely muttered “yeah or cool” when appropriate.

  “If I was him, I would have had you back in my bed the moment I laid eyes on you.”

  My front teeth clamped down on my bottom lip in shock and to also force the little feelings of excitement in my belly to go away. Why did his words give me such a reaction? I’d never experienced anything like this in my life. It was only words, but it had the same effect as if he was staring at me with smouldering eyes or enticing me with soft touches.

  “The coach has been really pleased...” Trent said next.

  “I would have used the time learning my way around your luscious curves.”

  I squirmed on the stool a moment in an attempt to ignore the soft purr next to my ear. Even leaned in further toward Trent and tried to concentrate on his boring conversation. My gaze focused on Trent’s lips as if I needed to watch them in order to understand the words he spoke.

  “Then, I would kiss your mouth until your lips are rosy and swollen.”

  To disregard him was impossible. I responded by crossing my legs and squeezing them together tight. My body was reacting to his words even though I knew how wrong this was. He was a ghost―none of this should arouse me―but it did.

  “After I’ve had enough of your lips, I would seek to discover all those little places that make you squirm.”

  Then, he ran his finger from below my ear all the way down to the nape of my neck. It wasn’t a touch I'd ever felt from someone living or someone dead. No ghost had ever laid a finger on me. Now, I was happy they hadn’t. It was more of a cold shiver which trailed my skin to leave goose bumps in its wake and created sensations in me which battled against my will.

  “Tess,” Caley’s sudden voice demanded.

  It wasn’t until I opened my eyes, did I realize I’d shut them. After taking a moment to focus, not only was Caley giving me a funny look, but Trent and Brandon were too.

  “What is wrong with you?” Caley exclaimed.

  I shook my head and released a breath that came out in a slow wisp of air. “Nothing, I’m fine.”

  “Yes, you would be fine when my tongue is teasing up your inner thighs, tempting you, tasting you.”

  “You are not.” Caley pointed her finger directly at me. “Your face is completely red.”

  “Your pussy would be throbbing, creaming―h
ungry for the feel of my mouth.”

  My thighs squeezed together to give my clit a little of what it was after. The second my legs tightened, a deep shudder ran through me.

  “And when you couldn’t take anymore, I would give you what you wanted. I would lick into you, swirling your juices with my tongue and not until I had my full taste of you would I move away.”

  In a quick move, I grabbed my beer, took a big swig, then a couple more as all eyes stared at me with blatant confusion. Never had I been this aroused in my life. Part of me wanted to move away while the other needed to hear more. My thighs clenched with the pulse of my pussy and the wetness drenching my panties was unbearable.

  “I’d take your mouth again so you could taste yourself―knowing that your scent has filled me as I widened your thighs to accept me. I would wait until your hips arched toward me, begging me to take you. Then, and only then, would I slam my cock deep inside of you.”

  I found myself gripping the table with my hands. I was way beyond excited, teetering on near insanity.

  “Ahh...Tess,” Caley said with soft hesitation. “Seriously, are you okay?”

  The moment I locked gazes with her, Caley’s eyes went wide with surprise. Nothing in me could care. I needed him to finish his words. The fantasy he started to build in my mind needed completion. “Yes.” My voice came out in a purr. “Yes, I’m good.”

  Caley let out a low nervous chuckle.

  “I would thrust against you roughly, demanding that you react to my intentions.” He began to run his finger along my exposed lower back and the coldness against my hot skin caused my breath to deepen and my body to quiver from the icy embrace.

  “You would come because you’d be left with no other choice than to do so. And without giving you the chance to recover, I’d flip you over on your knees and fuck you senseless.”

  That was it. I shot up from my seat, causing the stool to slam back into the person behind me who swore in return. “I have to go.” My voice squeaked out in an urgent demand.

  Caley nodded. “Ah yeah, I think you do.”

  Without another word, I bolted from the pub. I ran hard, my shins screaming out at me, reminding me I was in three-inch heels. I never listened though. I needed to get home.