Chapter 12
TWELVE
Ghost
Being a ghost meant dealing with a lot of nothing. Yet, I’d learned it could still feel like living. My awareness remained. And like the saying goes: it’s not how you died, it’s how you lived.
I still didn’t know who I had been.
But then…did any of us know who we were? Even with our memories?
I was concentrating on how to live in the present. You’d think without a past, this would be easier, but it wasn’t. Living in the present still required letting go, still required trust.
I did think about the future. Mostly of Christopher, and if he would remain in mine. Honestly? He was the best part of my day, every day.
I was still worried none of this was fair to him. At the end of this story, after all, I couldn’t become alive.
But I also thought about finding a purpose that was all my own. For that reason, I’d started breaking ghost protocol. I greeted the new ghosts these days instead of turning away. I cared for them, especially the lost and scared ones. They arrived without memory, only their bodies and face near the end of their human lives a clue to their pasts. They arrived powerless, like I had felt.
I’d become nicknamed “The Counselor” by the newbies. Need help? See The Counselor. A few other ghosts joined me in this pursuit, but most didn’t. Most ghosts stuck to the old ways.
Helping the newbies helped me. In my heart, I began to grieve. I knew the truth. I would have to mourn my former self, even if I never remembered him.
Still, my optimistic nature rebounded as I found a purpose in the spiritual realm. Clearly, I enjoyed organizing things; I liked being busy.
And then there was Christopher. He’d arrive in the ghost realm, and my heart would remind me how deep my feelings were. Whenever he took on new clients, he got busy, but he respected that I was busy with my ghosts, too. He was searching for my past during his free hours, and on those days, he channeled me. We’d search his computers and trace leads. Not much had occurred there, but Christopher would softly reassure me. In this realm, he’d cuddle me to him and hold me if I got depressed. In return, I could kiss away his crankiness.
I liked the times he channeled me and I commanded his body, but he couldn’t kiss me there. Here, in the ghost realm, we kissed. Strong kisses. Soft kisses. I liked putting my mouth to his collarbone—which always made him groan—or placing my palm over his heart.
We would cuddle and talk. He’d nuzzle my neck, holding me protectively. And a selfish part of me was glad I got this man in both realms.
Other times, Christopher declared me “too hot to cuddle.” He’d become possessive, touching me desperately. Demanding more.
In the ghost world, we’d kissed in every season. Sometimes, I liked to kiss in a gentle snowfall, our mouths and tongues warm. Snow would land on Christopher’s dark hair. We kissed in the hot summer, our skin touching, clinging.
I knew deep down that maybe the ghost realm was a dream at best, but it had become my dream.
Christopher was the one who’d suggested more than kissing.
We were in a bedroom I’d created. A cute little bungalow-style house on the beach. The bedroom was homey. I’d added lots of pillows, a colorful quilt. It felt familiar to me, which was comforting. And even though I had no memories of the bungalow, I was eager to share it with Christopher. It felt right for us to do this here.
“Are you sure?” My nerves jangled.
“I want you inside me,” he urged. “We can’t do that when you visit me.”
“Will that even work between us?” I asked.
He gave a sweet smile. “Let’s see.”
This made me nervous. He was my tether, my friend, my lover. I was almost me—mostly me—with him.
Maybe that was a bizarre idea, but I felt closest to myself with him. My urge to know him grew, even as my urge to know my past-self faded. I could be vulnerable with Christopher and still feel strong.
So, of course, I really wanted to fuck him.
Christopher leaned closer, brushing a calloused thumb over my bottom lip. I shivered. My mind conjured a giant bed with the softest quilts and pillows. Christopher tossed a bunch of the pillows aside. He grabbed me and swung me to the bed. We got naked fast.
I licked the spot at his collarbone again, loving the salty sweat there. He groaned and pulled me on top of him. And then we were kissing some more, and a fireplace appeared near us, the fire warm and crackling. Christopher’s skin took on a flushed glow. I relished the contact. Skin on skin. I held him a long moment. Gazing into his eyes.
“I never wanted a man. Only you.” He confessed with a nervous rush.
I was nervous, too. Could I fuck him? Could I even come? Yet, Christopher was special. He saw me, felt me. Knew me.
He spit into his palm. Christopher took our dicks in his hand, working them together. All my nerves dissolved at his touch. This was real. Our cocks jerked in unison. Mine longer, his thicker. The look of our cocks rubbing together was so right. More right than anything in this realm had ever been. Panting, Christopher released his grip and put his legs up, hooking them over his arms. I scooted lower to work my tongue on him. Despite lacking some taste compared to the human realm, I liked it.
I liked the way he squirmed under me. It felt earthy, human.
Our grunts filled the air. It didn’t take long for him to be ready, his hole loose and wet. Lining my body to his, I surged forward. My balls tingled, aching to fill him right away, but I held back. I had to give him pleasure. Christopher gasped loudly as I entered him.
“Don’t…stop.”
As if I could stop. My body was his, my whole being was his. I trembled, even as my dick throbbed for mercy. I ignored it, pounding into him. Giving Christopher what he’d asked for, what he’d needed. I felt his body shuddering, his cum splattering me.
I lost it. Crying out, thrusting forward with all my might—light, powerful blasts of light. I came, even if no semen was there.
My whole body shifted, the world expanded, and I let go.
I collapsed on top of him. Christopher gathered my face between his firm hands. Kissed my cheeks, lips. We clung to each other, sharing a smile. He was mine. I was myself. Until forever.
But was that fair?
I stared into his eyes, so full of trust. I hesitated before moving my fingers down the side of his jaw, his neck, letting them linger on his strong shoulders. How I yearned to keep him happy, and close to me.
My forever was not the same as a human’s. And eventually, when Christopher became a ghost, there were no guarantees we’d find each other or feel the same.
I rolled to my side, worried.
Was I the type to take what I wanted? Or put another person’s needs ahead of my own?