Charlie #2
“We’re taking these spirits out one by one,” he continued, cracking his knuckles like he was preparing for actual combat.
“By any means possible. Systematic elimination. No more pissing about. They’re only so strong because there’s so goddamn many of them.
And we’re ringing Harrison today and getting permission to saw through that bottom basement door. ”
Oh dear. Bat wasn’t going to like that.
“I’ll get a bulldozer down there if I have to,” Brad continued.
I bit back the urge to roll my eyes so hard they’d fall out of my head. God, I couldn’t wait to never hear Brad’s bullshit ever again. Soon, this nightmare would be over.
“Brilliant,” I said, plastering on fake enthusiasm thick enough to spread on toast. “Just tell me what to do, and I’ll do it. Minus digging up any more skeletons—I almost didn’t survive that shit.”
Brad nodded sharply, already pushing back from the table. “Meet me in the lobby in ten minutes. And Charlie?” He paused at the kitchen door, fixing me with another of those suspicious looks. “Bring your A-game today. No more amateur hour.”
He stormed out, leaving me alone in the massive kitchen with my soggy cornflakes and growing dread.
I was so tired. It wasn’t fair, because I shouldn’t even be tired—we’d overslept that morning.
Well, I’d overslept. Bat wasn’t late for anything in particular.
But by the time I’d come around groggily, I realised I’d snoozed my alarm three times and it was five minutes to nine.
I’d leapt out of bed quickly, before Bat could tempt me to stay with those puppy-dog eyes of his.
I carried the cup of coffee I’d made myself through the corridor, heading for the front door. Maybe I could stand on the doorstep and breathe some fresh air for a few minutes before Brad’s hellish day began in earnest.
“In here.” Bat’s voice hissed directly into my ear, urgent and low. Nothing but empty corridor ahead of me, empty corridor behind. The air prickled cold where his invisible mouth had been. Infinitely unsettling and creepy.
A nearby cupboard door creaked open by itself.
Again, so fucking creepy. Why, oh why, did I find this ghost so bloody cute?!
I glanced around the empty corridor, then placed my coffee on the tiled floor before slipping into the cupboard, pulling the door shut behind me.
Complete darkness swallowed me whole. Great.
“What is it?” I whispered. “What’s going on?”
“Brad said ten minutes,” the darkness said.
“And?”
Lips pressed to my neck, just above my collarbone. Cool. Deliberate. Then breath ghosted down to my ear, raising every hair on my arms.
“Bat,” I groaned. “Stop that. I need to work.”
“And I need to hear those pretty sounds of yours again.”
“It’s probably more like seven minutes now.”
“I don’t even need that long.” His voice dropped lower, full of promise. “Trust me.”
I opened my mouth to protest—I had a genuine, reasonable protest forming—but the zip of my ExorSquad overalls rasped downward in one smooth pull. Metal teeth separating in the darkness. That sound went straight through me, tightening every single muscle in my body.
His hand slipped under my boxers. Cool fingers wrapped around my cock.
“Fucking hell, Bat!”
“Open your mouth.” Not a request. A command.
I obeyed. Didn’t even think about it. Four fingers slid between my lips.
“Suck.”
I did, coating his fingers thoroughly, spit pooling around them. Then he pulled them free with a soft pop and swapped hands. Slick fingers wrapped around me, working my cock with steady pressure. Blood rushed south, dizzying and fast, as I hardened fully in his grip.
My head thudded against the back wall of the cupboard. “But I need to meet Brad—”
“Then you’d better come quickly for me, baby.” His voice had gone wicked, dangerous. His other hand grabbed my ass cheek, fingers digging in hard enough to hurt.
The pitch-blackness made everything sharper—no sight, just sensation. His hands on me. His breath against my ear. My cock throbbing in his grip, pulse hammering through every inch of me.
“Just relax,” Bat whispered. “Let me make you feel good.”
And God, it did feel good.
So bloody good.
Bat’s tongue nudged my lips apart and I opened for him, desperate for more.
The kiss turned hungry. Demanding. All teeth and tongue and breathless gasps from me.
He pushed me harder against the wall—wooden panels bit into my shoulder blades—his mouth working against mine like he wanted to consume me entirely.
He sucked my tongue deep into his mouth and everything inside me pulled tight, coiling hot and urgent. When his teeth caught my bottom lip—biting enough to sting—a whimper tore free from my throat before I could stop it.
When we broke apart, it took everything in me to restrain myself from moaning, instead gasping, “So, so close,” directly into his ear.
“Wait,” he hissed against my throat.
Bat dropped to his knees. His mouth closed around my cock—no teasing, no warning—taking me straight to the back of his throat. He swallowed around me and my knees nearly gave out. Tears pricked hot at the corners of my eyes.
Fuck, yesterday wasn’t a fluke. He really did give the best head I’d ever experienced.
His hand slid off my ass cheek, fingertips trailing inward, ghosting feather-light against my hole.
Just the barest touch, really, but enough to send delicious sparks dancing through me, enough to make me ache for more—for time we didn’t have, for him to twist me around and push himself inside, to take me right here against the cupboard wall.
Crack!
His free hand slapped my thigh. Hard.
I knew what he wanted from me.
My hands flew to his head, fingers tangling in that silky black hair, and I thrust deep into his mouth.
He moaned around my cock—the vibration so fucking exquisite—and squeezed my ass in encouragement.
Another sharp slap to my thigh. That finger kept circling, pressing just enough to make me desperate but not enough to satisfy, and I was falling apart, coming undone in the darkness with only his hands and mouth to anchor me.
“Yes,” I hissed, pulling his hair harder as I fucked his mouth. “You’re so incredible.”
He hollowed his cheeks, sucking harder, and any semblance of control I had shattered.
My hips snapped forward, forcing me deeper down his throat.
He didn’t gag, didn’t pull away, just took everything I gave him, and I had no trouble imagining those brown eyes looking up at me in the darkness like I was the only thing that mattered in the world.
I hurtled towards the edge, whole body trembling as my head fell back against the wall. Pressure built in my balls, that familiar tightness coiling low and hot in my belly—
The cupboard door burst open.
Daylight flooded in, brutal and blinding.
Bat lurched backwards in shock. My cock slipped from his throat but my body didn’t care, couldn’t stop. The orgasm tore through me anyway, unstoppable. I came with a strangled cry, white streaks painting Bat’s lips and face as my whole body convulsed with release.
Brad stood in the doorway.
His expression—and the way his eyes were locked on Bat, not me—told me everything. He could see him. Had seen my cock down his throat. Had seen everything.
“What. The. Actual. Fuck.” Each word dropped like a stone between us.
Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck.
I was so dead.
At least Bat would appreciate the eternal company.
Colour flooded Brad’s face, rushing up from his neck in a violent wave of red. His whole body started shaking—not trembling, shaking—like he was caught in some personal earthquake, his head snapping back and forth in violent denial.
He stumbled backwards, nearly tripping over his own feet.
Bat wiped my cum off his mouth with the back of his hand, casual as anything. “This isn’t what it looks like.”
Brad’s mouth opened and shut like a fish gasping for air.
“Listen, Brad,” I said, quickly tucking my dick away, but then stopped short. Because I had absolutely no idea what to say. Sorry you caught me getting a blow job from a ghost in a cupboard didn’t seem like the right opener.
“I knew it!” Brad exploded, spittle flying from his lips.
“I fucking knew something strange was going on with you! All those times you kept looking at thin air, the weird stuff you came out with, the talking coming from your bedroom—but I didn’t for one second think you were…
you were…” His face twisted with absolute disgust. “Having sex with a ghost!”
The ranting continued, his voice getting higher and more hysterical with each word. He was practically foaming at the mouth, going on about how fucking sick I was, how unprofessional, how the handbook explicitly stated not to flirt with entities, let alone shag them.
I zipped up my uniform with exaggerated care. See. Total professional right here, everyone.
Brad’s cruel laughter cut through the air. “And just wait until Gerald finds out about your little emo ghost boyfriend!”
Bat beamed, glancing at me with those ridiculously hopeful brown eyes. “We’re boyfriends?!”
That did it. Brad’s hand flew to his belt, unholstering his PolterPulse with the speed of someone who’d been dying to use it. The weapon’s barrel pointed straight at Bat’s chest.
“I’ve had enough of this shit,” he snarled. “You’re all going down, starting with you right here, freak.”
The weapon whined as it powered up, that distinctive high-pitched whir that meant business.
I didn’t think. I just moved.
I threw myself between Brad and Bat just as the trigger clicked. Neon blue slammed into my chest. Everything went white. Pain ripped through me—fire and ice and electricity all at once. My lungs stopped. Just stopped. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Just pain. My knees hit the floor.
“Charlie!” Bat shrieked.
The world tilted sideways, the electrical fire racing through my veins like molten metal.