Page 15 of Almost You

“Please,” Christopher murmured. “I’ve never been with a man before. Or a ghost.”

I froze. So much of his hesitation made sense. The realization hit me that maybe this was fated to be. He needed me. I needed him.

I longed to touch him. Graze my lips over his mouth. Touch his skin. His broad shoulders, which had a few freckles, and wide chest.

But no, I mustn’t. It wouldn’t be right.

Dammit.

I hovered closer, looking but not touching.

Man, he was beautiful. I pressed a finger to my mouth and blew a kiss at him.

He moaned. A sound of pure pleasure, making me smile.

I wanted him to…feel all of that. Wanted to give a moment of joy to Christopher that he might not allow in our ghost realm.

My breath panted as I bent closer, my lips just an inch from his.

God help me. I want him.

Christopher twisted in his sleep, and his blankets fell away. I could see his erection poking at his underwear. The outline of his big, thick cock made me salivate. How I’d love to give his dick a few vigorous strokes. I yearned to bury my face there, smell his scent, lick his hard length. I couldn’t get the smile off my face. I wasn’t touching him, not at all, just hovering above him.

“Oh…ohhh, Jesus.” My voice was still a garble.

As if he’d felt me—despite not touching him—or heard my words, Christopher’s eyes flew open as he came, wonder on his face. Our gazes met, but his looked unfocused. Unseeing.

He blinked. “Ghost?”

“I’m sorry.” I moved away, shimmering near the corner of the room.

I had only looked at him, but I knew that was wrong. Part of me wanted to wither with shame. The other part of me wanted to beg to kiss him.

“Wait, let’s talk about this—” Christopher sat up.

I started to move forward. Eager to explain that I hadn’t planned any of this.

He smiled at me, and a thrill of joy washed over me.

“Listen,” I said, just as a strong pull grabbed me.

A weird energy was here—no, pressure—like somebody was sitting on my chest.

“Well, hell,” I exclaimed, just as something sucked me away into the blackness. A loud roar, like an explosion made my ears ring, but I could see a light ahead. I felt warm, not cold. I tumbled forward.

Back into the ghost realm.

I blinked a few times, my eyes cruddy with some type of white dust. I didn’t understand how I’d gotten to his realm or why I’d returned to mine. There were some ghosts playing polo on giant horses. Others raced by in fancy red cars. I could do anything here. So why did I feel so frail?

Why did I long for his bedroom?

Stupid to want Christopher. I should hook up with Ronnie and the other ghosts.

I took a hard inhale. I hated this lack of control.

Curling into a ball, I began to realize that even if I found my memories, I’d still be dead.

Being ripped between realms, with no more power than a newborn, made me realize how we think memory keeps us on a path during our lives, without realizing there is no path.

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