Chapter 4
FOUR
We’re at the shower stalls of the campsite, and Sloan is taking a much-needed shower while I stand just outside, imagining how the water droplets slide down her perfect body, over her curves, and how her hands glide over her soapy skin. It almost kills me.
If I were alive, I’d turn, open that damn stall door, pick her up by her thighs, and press her against the tiled wall, kissing her stupid before letting my hand find her pussy and finger fucking her against the wall until she came all over me, screaming.
A content hum comes from inside the stall, and I groan, almost feeling the blood rushing to my crotch because of the sound.
Fuck this.
“Slo?” I ask, trying not to sound as nervous as I am.
If she rejects me, I’m just going to die again of embarrassment.
“Yes?” she answers, her voice echoing from the stall walls, but it’s just us here.
“Can I… can I come in?” I ask, cringing at how unsure I sound. I need to get my shit together. Babbling guys are anything but sexy.
“You want to—” she starts asking, but I step through the stall wall and come face to face with a naked, soaped-up blonde beauty, her hazel eyes wide.
“I want to do so much with you, but yes, I want to come in. Is my being here okay?” I ask, my finger gliding up her upper arm, goose bumps rising in my wake, making me smirk.
Her nipples are peaked, and her breasts rise and fall quickly with each heavy breath, as if she’s as nervous as I am.
“Yes,” she breathes out but stands under the showerhead, unmoving.
“You know I like to watch you,” I whisper, my hand coming up to cup her cheek, my thumb stroking it.
“Can I watch you shower?” She nods, her eyes fixed on mine.
My hand wanders down her throat, her chest, until my thumb swipes over her nipple, making her shudder.
“Then finish your shower, Boo,” I command, stepping back.
She stands frozen for a minute, letting me cast my gaze down her body, memorizing every dip and curve, every fucking freckle. When she snaps out of it, she starts to rinse the shampoo out of her hair, arching her back, her hands on her head, chest pressed out as her tits jiggle with the movement.
I want to take a bite.
But then she pulls some hair to her front, obscuring my view. “Put your hair behind your shoulders,” I demand. “Let me see your pretty tits.”
Sloan’s eyes fill with desire, and as they lock with mine, I can practically feel her burning me up. It doesn’t help my horniness in the slightest while I’m still grappling with the realization that I could even be horny in this form, even though there's no evidence of it when I glance down.
But let’s be honest, you would have to be dead—okay, you would have to not exist anymore—to find Sloan Wilson, the hottest girl who ever walked the Earth, not attractive.
My hand wanders to my crotch, wanting to squeeze my cock to get some kind of release, but of course, my hand only goes right through me.
This is torture.
Sloan brings up her hands to her tits, massaging them and rolling her nipples while her breath hitches, her eyes on me when mine come up to her face again.
Correction, this is torture.
The best kind.
“Fuck, Slo. You’re making me lose my mind over here,” I whisper as I watch how she presses her thighs together, seeking the friction I can’t give her.
But I can make her give it to herself.
“Touch yourself for me.” It sounds like a command, but it is a plea.
Please, please touch yourself for me.
Sloan bites her lip when her right hand leaves her tit and slowly, way too slowly, glides down her body to the place between her thighs.
Whimpering, she starts rubbing herself. I lean my back against the shower wall, trying hard to stay there so I can enjoy the show.
I can’t do shit anyway, can I?
My eyes zero in on her middle finger circling her clit, and I can almost hear her heart beating rapidly in time.
“Show me how deep you can get your fingers inside you,” I whisper, and I watch in a trance as she leans slightly and glides one finger inside her, moaning softly, making me cuss under my breath.
But it’s not enough.
“Get another one inside. I’d use two fingers to fuck you.”
God, I’d fucking give everything to fuck her pretty pussy right now.
With my fingers.
My tongue.
My cock.
All of the above.
Fingering herself with two fingers like the good girl she is, my name leaves her on a moan. “Saylor.”
Hearing my name on her lips like that, fuck. If I still could, I would have just nutted my pants.
“You’re doing so good, but I need you to pick up the pace. Can you fuck yourself faster for me?” I ask, my voice strained.
She nods frantically, her voice barely audible, “Yes.” Her movements are hard and fast, her fingers slipping in and out of her when she shares on a breath, “I never do it myself this way. It’s like you’re touching me right now.”
I groan and let my head fall back, imagining how my fingers would slide inside her, how she would feel around them, warm, wet, and soft. How I would stroke her walls.
Fuck, I bet she’s so tight.
My eyes find hers again, watching her tremble. “I would start gentle but pick up speed until you’re gasping for breath, but I wouldn’t let you have it, kissing the shit out of you, not stopping my fingers’ pace inside you.”
She moans loudly and shudders just as I hear the door to the shower stalls open and somebody coming in.
I step up to her, making her stumble with her back against the tiled wall. My hand comes up to cover her mouth, and we’re so close that I feel her hand still moving near my crotch.
Fuck.
“You’re not going to stop. You’re going to make yourself come, but you’re going to be quiet. Understood?”
She nods under my hand, but I don’t take it away and don’t step back, reveling in the nearness of her naked body.
My free hand comes up to her nipple, stroking it while she still fingers herself, closing her eyes, her whole body trembling and tensing up.
Fuck, she’s so damn beautiful this close, coming apart.
The wet sound her fingers make sliding in and out of her pussy is muted by the shower's water stream, but I can hear it, hear how wet she is. Her mouth opens on a moan, and I hush her again.
“Shh… come for me.”
She nods, eyes still pressed closed, a crease forming between her eyebrows when she finally shudders, and my name leaves her on a breath.
Fuck me.
This will play on repeat in my head for the rest of my… whatever.
My hand wanders from over her mouth to the back of her head, leaning in to kiss her still slightly open and panting lips. “Thank you for letting me watch.”
She giggles, her cheeks adorably red, her wet hair clinging to her. She looks about to say something when we hear a cough in a shower stall down the row.
“Come on. Let’s get you dry and back to the van,” I urge. I watch her finish towel drying her hair and put on some clothes.
She’s quiet, but I know she’s not mad or anything—she is afraid to be seen talking to me. Which makes my thoughts wander back to my fucktard brothers, who would all go to hell if it were up to me.
If I could choose like they wanted her to, she would pick me and give them all the finger, just like she already beautifully did.
I could have kissed her at that moment.
But it’s not about me.
It’s about her.
And let’s be honest. Sloan needs them.
Just as much as they need her. I’m not pushing her back to them in any way. I’m not a good enough person for that, but I will also not stand in the way if she thinks she wants to go back to them.
I’ve had a lot of time to think about our predicament in the last four days, and in my case, it’s simple.
I’m hers, and she’s mine.
But she also needs someone with a pulse, someone who can hold her, be there for her, fuck her properly, and not get pulled away every time shit gets real. It seems like every time my nonexistent heartbeat races, I just vanish.
Is yoga for ghosts a thing?
Can you calm your spirit if you are a spirit?
We climb into the van, and she sits on the bed cross-legged, her beautiful long fingers gliding through her still-damp hair as she braids it over her shoulder. I watch, entranced, as her delicate neck is exposed.
“All right, showered and pretty much clean again, even if this was a little dirty,” she grins, making me grin right back. “At least I feel like a human again. What are we doing now?”
Trying to get my head out of the gutter after that reminder, I come up blank.
“I don’t know, Slo,” I tell her, sitting next to her so close that our knees touch. “What do you want to do? You know I’m just along for the ride.”
“You’re not.” She pouts. “I think you’ll just vanish again when we drive farther away.”
I scrunch up my nose. “Why?”
“I don’t know. I just guessed that you somehow need to stay near your brothers,” she muses, biting her lip, making me want to reach out and pull it out.
“Possible.” It happened while we were driving farther away, so maybe there is something in that.
But my brothers? Really? If I can’t go anywhere without them, that would suck. “Maybe it’s Lubec?”
“I don’t know. But honestly, I’ve never had the problem of needing a ghost to travel. I always thought they hung on to people and just went where they went, but maybe that’s not it. Where is your grave? Lubec?”
“No idea,” I shrug. “Never saw it. But I’d guess so. We have something like a family grave there.”
I shudder at the thought. I should have told the guys I wanted to have my ashes scattered somewhere. Anywhere would be better than that.
“You never saw your grave?” Sloan furrows her brows.
What a strange thought. Would I want to see my grave? I guess not.
“Nope.” I laugh. “But I know that family grave is creepy as fuck. The guys mostly just visit the Lost Fishermen’s Memorial on my birthday and such.”
“What’s that?” she asks curiously, tilting her head adorably.
“It’s a stone sculpture next to the beach, a memorial to fishermen who have lost their lives to the sea. It’s a peaceful place, pretty. I liked to hang out there and watch the seals when I was alive. I would love to show you.”
I would love to show her so many places I loved when I was alive.
“I’m not going back to Lubec,” she vows, inspecting her fingernails.
I don’t think we can avoid that. But I’m game for anything as long as she’s there.
“Okay, fine. What’s the plan then?” I ask, leaning back on my hands. But she doesn’t answer for a long while, and then her eyes start to brim with tears.
“Hey,” I coo, leaning in, prompting her to find my gaze. “What’s going on in your pretty head?”
A small sob breaks out of her, making my heart sink.
“I’m lost, Saylor. I don’t have any money left.
The van is on its last leg. It’s cold as fuck again.
” I hadn’t even noticed, but now she mentioned it, I noticed she was dressed in multiple layers.
Fuck. “I don’t have anything left to eat.
I don’t have a plan for what to do with myself. I’m just… lost.”
“You’re not,” I whisper, frowning at her, my finger gliding along her jaw, making her shiver under my touch. “You’re not lost. You’re found. I found you. You found me. And we’ll find a way, okay?”
I’d do anything to make her happy. Go anywhere.
A shuddering breath leaves her before she takes a few deep ones, trying to compose herself. “It’s just all so dark.”
“If everything around you is dark, maybe it is because you’re the light,” I say softly, stroking her cheek.
She nods slowly, biting her lips. “I’m open to suggestions, you know.” She gives me a small, watery smile, and my heart instantly feels lighter.
“Okay, if that’s so, then I say, let’s drive back to Lubec.”
“Saylor—” she starts, but I cut in.
“Last time I checked, Tally still owes you a paycheck, which would at least give you some more time.”
“I’m not going to beg Tally for money!” Sloan shoots a glare my way.
My stubborn girl.
“Who said anything about begging? You fucking earned that money. You worked for it. You would have gotten it anyway if hell didn’t break loose and you just up and left.
” She huffs, crossing her arms over her chest, but I don’t budge.
Her stubbornness will not bring food to the table.
“We drive back, get the money, maybe work another two weeks or more to fill the funds. This gives us time to think, make a plan, and test out how far we can go. We could settle somewhere around here, not telling the idiots a word about it. The area is small and still big enough not to cross each other’s paths if you try hard enough.
We could look for another mechanic or waitressing job?
I don’t know if you like it here, and maybe it’s too much to ask you to stay around to be with me. If so, we could find another—”
Fuck, her leaving me would kill me again, but all I want is for her to be happy.
“Casper,” she breathes out, and it looks like all the anger brewing inside her left her with that breath. Reaching out to touch my forearm, she stops me in my tracks. Her eyes are filled with something I would like to call love when she tells me, “I’ll keep you no matter what.”
My heart almost flutters out of my chest.
I mean, it would have if I still had one.
I try to keep my cool when I ask, “So, Lubec? Getting back, trying to avoid the jerks, make some money, and find a way to keep each other?”
She smiles and nods. “Deal.”
Thank fuck.