Page 11 of Beyond Your Darkness, I'm Your Light

“That’s because you’re a weirdo.” Here he comes with his bullshit.

“God, why don’t you just cross over like the rest of them? Why are you still here, and why thefuckare you listening to my thoughts, Randy?” I shriek, stomping my foot on the ground, acting like an overgrown child.

“Someone’s in a mood.” He says, smirking.

“I bet you were annoying when you were alive.” I huff, rolling my eyes.

“Yeah, I was, so why not continue on in the afterlife? Am I right?” He laughs, raising his hand up for me to high five him. I can’t do anything but double over with laughter.

“You get on my last damn nerve, do you know that?”

“Me? What did I do?” He is so dramatic, clutching at his imaginary pearls.

“You are not a girl, and you don’t have on any pearls, stupid.”

“I might not be a girl, but I can still clutch them when I’m taken aback.” He mumbles, turning around and giving me his back.

“Oh, did I hurt the big, bad, dead lumberjack with my words that don’t mean anything?”

“You’re an evil, necromancing, whore bag, and I hate you.”

“That’s rather rude, don’t you think?” I begin. “I’m not a whore, but everything else you said was correct.”

“Well aren’t you fancy? Did I also mention that you’re a bitch and there’s someone here to see you?”

“Now, why would anyone be here to see me?” I ask, not really letting the fact that someone is asking about me rattle my nerves. But it has me thinking who it could be when nobody knows where I am, not even my parents. Sure, I gave them a city and state, but it’s not my real location so I’m safe and so are they.

“I don’t know who he is, but he’s hot.” He gushes, and that prompts my next question.

“Are you gay? I thought you said you weren’t because when I assumed you were, you all but jumped up the crack of my ass calling me names like you’re doing now.” I say, throwing my things on top of my desk, going in search of my white, lab coat.

“If I weren’t dead, I’d have a woman. Since I am dead, I look at everyone, and you’re either cute or fugly.” He states, shaking his head at me like the guy from A Low Down Dirty Shame did to Keenan’s character when he pretended to be his Mr. Coffee. Best scene ever. Thinking about that has me giggling which makes Randy throw daggers my way.

“I wasn’t laughing at you, Mr. Sensitivity, I was thinking about a movie. Shall we go see who it is?

“Well, I can’t go asking questions, now can I? I’m the one who’s dead, stupid.” Wow, he’s on a roll today.

“We will finish this later, come on. You never know when I’ll need you to listen in on their thoughts in the event I get a bad vibe from them.”

“Who says I like you enough to go with you, tramp?” He pops the ‘P’ on the end as if he’s chewing gum and it makes me wanna deck him.

“Because deep down you really love me, no matter what your mouth says because we all know that evil bitch is a liar.” I giggle.

“Now who’s being annoying?” He asks. “Let’s go before I decide to change my mind.” He says, disappearing. Sometimes that comes in handy. Right now is not one of those times, because I’m left alone to walk down to the waiting area alone.

“Now who’s the evil bitch?” I shout.

“Still you.” Comes his reply.

With the lab coat long forgotten, I turn around, head back out of my office, in the direction of the waiting area. Once there, I peek around the corner to have a looksie as to who the hell is asking for me, but all I get is a back. A very muscular back that is hugging that crisp, white shirt in all the right places. Mmm, mmm, I love a good, strong back. That means it won’t break if they decide to pick you up in the heat of the moment.

“You are such a whore, with your hot as drawls.” Randy is convinced I’m the evil whore when in fact, it’s him. I roll my eyes at his words and just as they come back from touching the back of my brain, white shirt turns around. I am stuck, watching time pass me by as my eyes settle on his body.

He’s got a tight, muscular chest that looks as if that white shirt were just painted around his pecs. How is it even possible to see his six pack through the shirt? Those gray slacks should be illegal on a body like his because his dick imprint leaves nothing to the imagination. Well, I can imagine a few things I’d love to do with it. I think, smiling devilishly as I continue to eye fuck him.

“Girl, keep lying to yourself. You wouldn’t know what to do with his dick even if it came with instructions.” Randy laughs, materializing right on the side of me as I continue ogling Hot Stuff, while tuning him out.

I’m sure I’m not the only girl in the world that has a secret fetish for men with sexy arms, and the way he is flexing them has me squeezing my legs together with want.

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