Haunting Sin

by Leila Knight

  Haunting Sin

  Published by Leila Knight

  Copyright 2012 Leila Knight

  The cool liquor swirled in my mouth. I heard the constant thrums of the nightclub’s music like a second beating heart. I ran my hands down the cold brick wall, clawing at the rough rock. I liked the roughness under my fingertips. I liked the pain. I liked the pain even more since it kept me in the present and not drifting away into oblivion. I had to keep my mind about me. His large hands cupped the curve of my breast and I knew I was falling out of reality.

  I moaned in appreciation at his wandering hands. It had been too long since I felt a man’s touch and even longer since a man who knew how to play me like an instrument. The music escaping the club had me heady or maybe it was the half dozen drinks. I smiled at my joke and closed my eyes, arching my back into those wonderful hands.

  The buttons of my top sprang free. The desert night air felt cool on my sweat-slicked body. I could imagine my body open to the world and snickered in my dreamlike haze. He tended to me like I was an exquisite prize he just won and he had to learn every inch of me. It really had been far too long since a man touched me.

  I could feel him lean in closer and his cool breath pass over my breast. That soft cool breath snapped me from my dream. A man’s breath shouldn’t be cool. I looked at him on his knees, as he began to slide up my skirt. I saw the cool blue smoky mist seeping from his eyes and his thin lips. His hands slid up my sides and he trailed cool kisses up my body. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes in silent argument with myself.

  Part of me wasn’t willing to make him stop, but the other intrusive bitch wouldn’t let up. He was after all a ghost. He had been dead for few years; otherwise he couldn’t hold his form this well. My analyzing was starting to dampen my need. I was here for business. I purred when he snaked his hands behind me and roughly grabbed my ass. Trails of kisses over my collarbone lowered to my aching nipples.

  I knew I shouldn’t enjoy this, but a woman could get used to phantom hands. They could be everywhere and nowhere, all at the same time. The cold bite of his mouth over my needy breasts was enough to give me the strength to push him away. No matter how tempting it felt, it wasn’t natural.

  I was finally grounded to reality and standing only a few feet away from a devastatingly handsome ghost. He was tall, hankering over my five foot eight inches. His hair was short, but long enough to fall into his intense gaze. In life, he must’ve had the kind of eyes to make a girl’s panties melt. In death, the soft blue light pooling out of his eyes gave him a predatory stare, but it was sexy enough to make a good girl want to go bad. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind he was bad too.

  I stared up the long lean length of him, my eyes catching the bulge of muscles and stopping at the cruel quirk of his thin lips. The twist of his lips and the taunting gleam in his eyes was like a bucket of cold water on my libido. I buttoned up my blouse, not loving the tremble in my hands. A small part of me wanted to rip my clothes off and beg for his touch; the other part wanted to run screaming from the hungry look in his eyes.

  “You’ve been a very naughty ghost Richard Parker.” The use of his name didn’t have the desired effect on him. He only shrugged his shoulders and began to creep forward with a deliciously masculine sway of his hips. I gnawed on my lips to concentrate. I held up my hand and he stopped just enough so I could feel the hard muscles of his chest underneath my palm. I wanted to fuck him and I wanted to fuck him really bad. I pulled myself together enough to remove my now wandering hand.

  This ghost was starting to get on my nerves. My voice hardened to the business tone I always use with ghosts. “You’ve been luring women out here.” He blinked sheepishly at me. “I only want to have a little fun. Don’t you want to have some fun with me?” When his hands touched me again, exhilaration raced through me. I jumped back from him. I’ve encountered some ghosts before and I knew a few tricks, but this was new.

  Every time he touched me, I could feel lust pour through my veins. This ghost was sex on a stick, but I only had to remember the fate of his last few “lovers” to make iron determination push out any lingering lust. This ghost was a murderer and I hadn’t figured out how he’d been doing it until I was tonsil-deep full of him.

  The need I felt wasn’t real; he had been coaxing it out of me to drain my body of its energy. I shouldn’t have taken this job. I shouldn’t have tempted this ghost, because the look on his face was plainly transmitting that he didn’t plan on letting me leave alive.

  I had some experience with the occasional poltergeist or even the average unintentional ghost, but I was out of league with Richard and he knew it.

  I had done some research on the curious deaths that had plagued the desolate nightclub. One woman after another, found lifeless with a smile on her face. The police had no leads, but I had a feeling something was amiss and started looking into the establishment. I found a small newspaper article on the death of a Richard Parker. A woman’s jealous lover had murdered him and within a year, women were being found dead around the nightclub’s surrounding area. It was too much of a coincidence for the psychic in me to ignore. I hinted to the police that the deaths may have a paranormal cause, but I was laughed out of the station.

  I don’t even know how one of the victims’ parents knew of me, but he found me and offered me a thousand dollars to extinguish the ghost. I don’t know why he believed me. I wasn’t going to take the job, but I needed to money, desperately. I decided to take the job and I dutifully came out here with salts and sage ready to cleanse the building. I had the sinking feeling that if I threw salt at Richard Parker he would only laugh at me.

  I tried backing up slowly, but my back came in contact with the cool nightclub wall. I glanced down at my feet and kicked my purse into my hands. If I was going to die, I wasn’t going to go down without a fight. I fumbled through my purse for my salt. Richard came running at me and I dumped my bag on the floor looking for anything I could use as a weapon against the ghost. I grabbed the sage just as a large hand circled around my neck and began to drag me up the wall.

  How could I have ever felt excited by those cruel hands? I saw the fury in his handsome face as he pressed his head forward and planted a kiss on my neck. I was amazed at how fast the fear drained out of me. I could feel my body start to respond to him.

  I looked in my hands and realized I didn’t have a match. Only sage smoke could deter a ghost. The sage in my hands was absolutely useless. I hated myself for the giddy feeling Richard gave me. I could feel the same smile of his previous victims form on my face. A tear slid out of my eye. I could feel death approaching.

  My breath began to come in shallow puffs and I arched my back. I could feel the beginning of an orgasm. I couldn’t die here like this. I still had the sage in my hand and I began to rub it furiously. I’ve known other psychics to use sage oil in place of the dried leaves. If only I could get enough of the essence on my hand it might have some effect. I prayed this would work. I could feel my life slipping into him. When the smell of sage was strong in the night air, I threw it down and pressed my hand to his face.

  My sage coated hand began to melt into his handsome face. I could hear it sizzle and smell the thick aroma of ozone. He screamed and looked up at me with a savage expression. I slammed my hand into his face again, putting all my strength into the attack. The half of his face I was assaulting began to dissipate, deforming the other side into a grotesque parody. He dropped me and stumbled back a few steps. I landed on my feet and prepared for his attack, when suddenly a dark figure barreled into him.

  I heard male grunts and saw Richard and another man in a fierce fight. The new man was human and that was enough to make him my new ally. I bent down and searched through my purse determined to
help the stranger. My shaky hands couldn’t find the cheap plastic lighter. I threw down the sage in frustration. In the moonlight my eye caught the glint of my glass bottle of salt. I quickly grabbed the bottle and went running in the direction of the noise. The two men were wrestling in the dirt. I saw a long gun scattered on the desert floor. I slipped behind the two grappling men and uncorked my bottle.

  I poured a heaping mound of salt into my hand and catapulted it in the direction of Richard’s back. As I thought, the salt didn’t have much effect on him, but it was enough to give the other man the advantage. He kicked Richard off of him and got up just in time to stop what would have been a devastating blow from the ghost. In their struggles the gun was flung towards me.

  I bent down to examine it and prayed it could be useful. There were a thousand thoughts running through my head at that moment, mainly my concern over discovering my hero had what appeared to be an assault rifle. I picked the gun up; I was apprehensive it would do Richard any harm but I was willing to try. Glass crunched under my foot. The rifle’s ammunition seemed to have been contained in a now broken glass jar connected to the base of the gun. A slew of quick curse words escaped my mouth.

  The moonlight outlined the shards of glass and a few rounds of ammunition. I heard labored breathing and I knew it was that of my rescuer. If I didn’t do something soon, Richard was going to send us both on an express ride to Hell.

  I shook the rifle in my hands relieving it of two small pieces of ammunition. I squinted my eyes and held it up to the moonlight. It was a metal screw. I twirled it in my fingers, surprised by its weight. It wasn’t just any metal; it was iron, the perfect ghost and ghoul repellant. I smashed the rifle to the ground, shattering what was left of the glass jar. I groped through the sparse grass for the iron nails. I searched as quickly as my hands would allow because time was running out and I could hear the tick tock of the Grim Reaper’s clock.

  I finally managed to collect a handful of nails. I ran over to the grappling men. My hero was obviously getting a beating from the savage spirit. Richard saw me approach; he stood up and placed his foot squarely on the man’s chest. “I could eat his soul. You know that? But women just taste so much better!” Furry erupted inside of me; I stopped at ten feet in front of him. “Taste this!” I yelled and threw the iron nails at him. The nails seemed to seep into him and pause half way through his body. Shock was on Richard’s face and then it turned to fear. I hate to say I was pleased by his fear, pleased to know that he felt at least a small bit of the terror he has caused to all those women.

  I stared at Richard’s body as its solid form began to fade into translucence. The atmosphere became electric. Static made the fine hairs stand on my neck. I could hear the man behind me slowly rise to his feet. Shock stapled me to the ground. I couldn’t look away from Richard. Coils of energy seemed to snake out of him. He began to quake and I started to cautiously walk backwards. Suddenly light encompassed his body. I felt a heavy weight tackle me to the floor and cover my head as Richard exploded, sending shards of iron shrapnel rocketing towards the ground.

  I opened my eyes and peaked through large hands at the now quiet desert. I decided that was the end of Richard, the murdering sex fiend ghost. My eyes stretched when I felt hot breath caress my neck. I had considered the stranger a friend when the situation was two humans against one insane ghost. Now that the ghost was out of the equation, I felt like our truce was strained. There was a very real, very masculine man on my back, who felt the need to carry assault weapons out to a desolate desert nightclub.

  I swallowed to ease my dry throat and waited for him to move. I must have had phantom lust still tingling with my nerves, because this man’s weight and wide shoulders felt too good on top of me. I was so thankful when he finally slowly rolled off of me, because it was too tempting to grind my ass into his hips. I was suddenly breathless. Damn ghosts.

  The man was dressed in all black, from his loose-necked t-shirt to his bulky cargo pants; his outfit screamed military. My eyes traveled up his body, admiring his form. I could make out strong thighs and a narrow waist through the suddenly too bulky clothes. I tilted my head up and imagined a broad chest and sculpted shoulders. He had strong thick arms and probably an ass so tight women would pay for the privilege to pinch.

  My breath came harder when I looked at his face. He had a strong chiseled jaw that I wanted to nibble on, till I reached full lips that would haunt my dreams. He had a straight nose and high cheekbones. Then I saw his eyes. Exotic and beautiful with a piercing slate blue hue, they almost glowed in the moonlight. His dark brown hair was cropped short but thick enough that I could run my fingers through it as he thrust into me.

  I stamped down my fantasy as I bit down on my lips and squeezed my thighs together. I didn’t know whether to resurrect Psycho Richard and thank him for my new urges or stomp his ghostly balls. I tilted my head forward and lowered my eyelids at him. I hadn’t had much experience with men, but I guess the come-hither look was programmed into me. He quirked his eyebrows and tilted his head in question. I thought I saw amusement in his bright eyes.

  I heard the soft rumble of a car approaching. My hero stretched his neck up at the large black monstrosity of a vehicle. I wanted to stare at the Hummer some more, but the sight of his neck stretching out of his collar was too tempting. I licked my lips and wished I had the gull to crawl over and let my tongue play over his tanned skin. I could hear gruff male voices under the loud truck engine. He turned to look at me again, still lying on the ground and hopefully as mesmerized with me as I was with him. The truck doors slammed closed, finally interrupting our heated stares. I tried to hide a smirk when I saw him swallow hard before setting his jaw and picking himself up off of the ground.

  Four men had come out of the car, all dressed in the same black uniform and holding the same stoic stance. The new men glared down at me. Each of them came in different shapes and sizes, from an unbelievably tall muscled man to a thin-framed man with an athletic build. Their bodies didn’t matter to me, because a specific body had been seared into my memory. I still sat on the ground with the five men looming over me. I no longer feared for my safety, but the situation proved awkward with everyone exchanging disbelieving looks between themselves.

  Finally the smallest of the men ambled over to me with a genuine smile and offered me his hand. He had soft features and pale blond hair. I liked the crinkle of his eyes when he smiled. I took a second to look at my Mr. tall, dark, and handsome before I grabbed the other man’s hand. My cheeks heated. I couldn’t believe I looked at him wanting his approval, but it sent a thrill through my body when he tensely crossed his arms. I looked away to hide my smile, as I grew surer I wasn’t the only one with heat surging through their veins.

  “My name is Andrew… and it seems you may have stumbled into one of our investigations.” My foot slid and I tripped into his arms. I blushed at the cute man until I heard a soft growl coming from Mr. Handsome. I pushed back against him and tried to steady myself, but I only managed to fall flat on my ass. Andrew chuckled and grasped my arms with more strength than I would have credited him. He picked me up and placed me on my feet.

  “See that,” he said motioning to a puddle of slime, “it’s ectoplasm. Just something the spirits give off before they leave. I like to think of it as a present.” I looked at him incredulously and dimly replied, “Ectoplasm?” Just as he was about to give his response I could feel something cool and wet dripping down my leg. I knew my luck wasn’t so good that the shrapnel wouldn’t hit me. I cursed and swiped my hand around my calf expecting to find my hand covered in blood. It wasn’t. I stared in horror at the pale blue mucus that dipped through my fingers. Andrew must’ve seen my brewing melt down. “Don’t worry, its absolutely harmless to people.

  Here let me introduce you to the rest of the team.”

  “Tall guy in the back is Marcus. He’s as big as a building.” Marcus had pale creamy skin and midnight black hair. His green eyes were dazzling in
the moonlight. The intimidating man surprised me by giving a sheepish wave.

  “Here’s Hopper. Don’t be fooled by the expression, he’s as gentle as a lamb”. Hopper didn’t look gentle and the sneer on his face from Andrew’s teasing wasn’t helping. He had painfully short hair and cold muddy brown eyes. He tilted his head in acknowledgement and stood so tense I feared for Andrew’s safety. Andrew then led me to the other side of the car.

  “This is James and that’s my only comment because he’s my boss.” James was military born and bred. He stood as straight as a metal pipe and had a commanding glare. His hair was short and dark with a little gray running through his temples. He had brown eyes and sharp features. He scanned over me as if measuring my threat capacity. When he was satisfied he quirked his lips and said, “Hello ma’am,” in a smooth southern accent.

  Beside James stood the man I had been waiting to meet. I balled my hands in anticipation. “And this right here is Devon, the man that has saved you from certain doom, our very own hero extraordinaire. You know, if I got here first I could’ve saved you better.” Andrew winked at me and I decided then that he must get more than his fair share of women’s attentions.

  Devon stepped forward a little hesitant after our ghostly encounter. He reached out and grabbed my hand, shaking it in greeting. As soon as his smooth hands touched my palm I could feel electricity spark at my fingertips. “And you must be aching to get home Ms…” Devon’s large hands started to massage wrist, I could feel his fingers inching ever so slightly up my arm. I liked the way he touched me and I was determined to get more of him. I started to walk closer to him. I could feel the heat of his chest embrace me. My nipples pebbled beneath my top and I started to softly rub myself against the fabric. I stared at Devon’s full bottom lip and wished I could bite it as I raked my nails down his hot rippled body.

  “My name is Piper Beaumont,” I whispered to him in a heavy voice. Everything around me disappeared and I only had about five more inches till I could rub myself between his strong thighs. I wanted this man inside of me, filling me till I screamed.