Page 198 of The Wishing Game

When I'm done, I twirl around a few times to let the moisture sink in before I go back to the bedroom, ready to jump on the bed and close my eyes.

Yet as soon as I open the door, I spot a shimmering mist hovering right at the edge of the bed. The shadow takes the form of a man when I come closer, but particles of sparkling dust still hover in the air.

"Nikki?" I whisper in shock. I wouldn't have expected him to show up here, or now. "How did you get here?"

The shimmer intensifies.

"Where you go, I go. I thought you knew that by now," he says, his voice low and gravelly, echoing into the large enclosure. I don't think I'll get used to this disembodied voice of his anytime soon, yet I'll always be grateful to have at least this.

"You were able to follow?"

He nods.

I walk closer to him, ignoring the fact that I'm not wearing any clothes—it's not as if he hasn't seen me like this before. At least now I smell good—although I'm not sure if his ghost has any olfactory capabilities.

"Can you smell me?" I blurt out.

"What?"

"Never mind, that was a silly question," I mutter under my breath.

"Now I'm curious what you meant. Tell me," he murmurs, bringing his hand to my face, his cold fingers caressing my heated cheek.

I avert my gaze, blushing furiously.

"I felt good for the first time in forever. Clean. Pretty..." I trail off. "And I know you love this scent on me, so I thought maybe... I'm so silly, aren't I?" I shake my head, a sad smile painted on my lips. "You're just a ghost and here I am wondering if you can smell me, or if you're still attracted to me," I add in a low whisper.

"Luce, look at me."

He tips my chin up to look into his shadowy face. I try with all my might to imagine the features of the man I love in its place. He might not look like the man I'm used to, but he feels like it—mine, just like I am his. And to my shame, I crave him all the same. Black shadows or human form, I desire him just as much—maybe more due to this prolonged absence.

"I'm a mass of atoms. And they all vibrate in concert with yours. I may not be fully corporeal, but I can still feel you."

His tendril-like fingers caress my face, going lower.

"I'llalwaysfeel you,"he whispers.

His touch is cool, yet it burns my skin all the same. Moving down my neck, to my chest, he pauses when he reaches my breasts.

I hold my breath as he makes contact with my sensitive nipples. A shiver goes down my back as desire pools low in my belly.

Is it unnatural to want him like this? Is it so abnormal to desire him in any shape or form?

"I missed this," I whimper breathlessly.

"You did?" he asks, his voice rough.

I nod fervently, keeping myself still for fear this moment will be over and I'll be left bereft once more.

"Tell me more, sweetheart. What else did you miss?"

He teases my breasts just enough to get my heart rate up and fill my head with countless scenarios. But as he continues his journey down my body, a new type of want blossoms inside of me. One that cannot possibly be normal, but it feels right nonetheless.

"You. Inside me," I whisper, my cheeks reddening. "Filling this aching emptiness."

I never saw myself as a sexual being before him. He awoke my desire, lighting a flame inside of me that's been fighting to stay alive after his death.

"

---