Chapter 12
twelve
ZEKE
If there’s one thing I know, it’s when a woman wants to get physical. Don’t get it twisted—anything less than enthusiastic consent is a hell no. But that being said, I’m pretty good at reading the room. And right now? This ghost chick in Autumn’s living room?
She wants to get physical. I mean—as best she can, considering.
Hell, she’s already been sitting here feeling me up, running her cool, slim hands all over my skin and turning me the hell on.
I’m glad it’s dark and my lap is hidden by the coffee table right now, because damn am I hard—and I feel kind of weird about Autumn seeing that, since it wasn’t her who did it. Not this time, anyway.
The ghost is hovering above the spirit board now, and she’s got this tiny little smile on her face.
She’s really pretty. She’s not a knockout like Autumn—although if I want usable pilot footage, I’m not about to say that out loud—but her long, silvery hair falls in waves down her back, and she’s got a nice set of tits popping out over the corset-thing she’s wearing.
Even though she’s been helping herself to my body—with my clear, implied permission, I will add—she’s looking kind of shy now.
“She wants to tell us something?” Autumn asks. “What do we do? Just ask something?”
I nod, then say aloud, “Okay, gorgeous. What do you want? Tell us what you’re after here.”
I’m pretty sure I know what she’s after. I saw that look on her shimmering face, felt where her hands were headed. And it’s… not what I’d planned on. Not here. Not for the pilot episode. Not in front of Autumn. This shit could get real awkward real fast.
My heart’s racing as the planchette starts to move beneath Autumn’s and my fingers. I hear Autumn suck in her breath. And all the while, the ghost chick is hovering above us, her eyes fixed on me.
The planchette whips across the board, jerking to a stop.
Autumn reads the letter aloud. “B.”
She looks up at me, her eyes shining with excitement. I’m pretty nervous, though, because if this is going where I think it’s going… Let’s just say Autumn may not like it very much.
The planchette jerks again, taking our fingers with it.
Autumn glances down to read the letter we’ve stopped on, but I already know. The death stare I know Autumn’s about to shoot me, is the only thing keeping me from laughing.
“J.”
Autumn looks confused for a moment, as though trying to figure out what kind of word this ghost could be spelling. Then she stares at me again, and her eyes narrow.
“Are you fucking kidding me, Zeke? B.J.? I’m supposed to believe a ghost—maybe from, like, 1902—just spelled out B.J.?”
This time, I can’t help it. I crack up, my shoulders shaking with laughter.
The ghost’s still hovering above the coffee table, and she doesn’t look very pleased with Autumn.
Because she most certainly did spell out B.J.
, and apparently, she does not enjoy being laughed at.
Especially not when the B.J. she wants to give is on the line.
“Listen,” I say, getting control of myself. “It’s not the first time a ghost has had a crush on me.”
“You mean that wasn’t you?!”
“No!”
“What the hell,” Autumn hisses. “Is it even possible… for a ghost to…?”
I raise my eyebrows. “Oh, you better believe it’s possible.”
She stares at me for a minute. She’s biting her lip again, and I can almost see the thoughts racing through her mind. The room is quiet.
“I want to see,” Autumn announces.
My heart speeds up so fast I swear it’s going to come ramming through my chest like the Kool Aid man. I didn’t think my brows could raise any higher. “Like… you want to watch?”
Autumn shrugs, flips her hair behind her shoulder. “Seems like an interesting experience. Color me intrigued.”
And just like that, the candles go out. I hear the cap snap onto the lens of the tripod cam—which means it’s still running, and I’ll have some interesting audio to sort through later.
I reach out and turn the phone camera off, just before a cool, smooth hand pushes me backwards.
I’m propped up on my elbows, the rest of my body draped across the rough, woven tapestry rug that’s spread out across the hardwood.
I can still see Autumn across the table.
Her gaze is pinned to my movements, and she watches, stunned, as the button of my jeans pops open, my fly unzips.
She can’t see the silvery girl with the shimmering hair as her fingers move to slide my jeans down my hips.
I’ve got to give Autumn credit. This has got to be weird for her.
With another tug, my boxers come down and my cock springs free.
My eyes are adjusting to the darkness now, and I meet Autumn’s gaze across the room.
It’s only when a cool, wet mouth closes over my cock that I break eye contact, moaning into the silent room.
The ghost kneels above me, icy fingers tracing my inner thighs as she takes me—and fuck, it feels good.
And knowing that Autumn’s about three feet away, watching as my dick twitches and jerks in what probably looks like midair, is mind-blowingly hot.
I let my eyes flutter shut, enjoying the sensations. The attention. The feeling of all eyes on me.
Because that’s always what it’s about—having myself stripped down and bare, and knowing I’m finally doing something right. That I am right. These women want me.
Suddenly, somewhere next to the cool, gliding mouth on my cock, there’s a different sensation. A set of hands, tracing my skin. They’re warm hands. Delicate hands.
My eyes snap open, and Autumn’s looking back at me.
In the darkness, I see the corner of her mouth pull up into a small, mischievous smile.
Autumn’s fingers trail down my stomach, slide into the grooves of the V leading down to my groin.
As her hands brush with the ghost girl’s, she sucks in a breath, giving me a startled, wide-eyed glance.
I just grin back. The ghost girl glances at Autumn, narrowing her eyes as she pauses her work on my cock, but when Autumn makes no further move to replace her, she dips back down and takes me whole.
I’m still propped on my elbows, so when Autumn moves behind me and pulls my head into her lap, I’m on cloud fucking nine.
My back’s already arching with the excellent job Autumn’s house ghost is doing of sucking me off, and now—shit.
Autumn’s got her hands on my chest, one set of fingers moving up to trace my jawline, and I can smell the glorious coconut scent of her hair.
I close my eyes, reaching up to tangle my fingers in those glorious red waves.
And then—
Autumn’s full, warm mouth is on mine. Her tongue glides along my lips, and I part them for her, relishing the feel of sucking her bottom lip upside-down.
The heat of Autumn’s mouth above and the coolness of the ghost’s mouth below is intoxicating.
I let out a groan that could wake the dead—if the dead wasn’t already awake, sucking my cock—and pull Autumn’s face closer to mine.
But as good as this blow job feels, I’m having trouble focusing on anything but Autumn. Her tongue in my mouth just now was like a fucking lollipop, and I’m already thinking about what other parts of her might taste even better.
I’m a little scared of pissing this ghost off by pleasuring Autumn in front of her.
I mean, I need her for my pilot—although come to think of it, maybe a little drama would make for a juicy storyline.
Then again, I trust my charisma enough to know I can probably smooth things over if needed. God knows I’ve done it before.
“This is crazy,” Autumn says, murmuring against my mouth.
“You want it to get crazier?”
Autumn pulls back slightly, her face still hovering upside-down above mine. The ghost pauses what she’s doing down below, and I catch her giving Autumn the side eye. She’s waiting to see what Autumn’s going to answer.
Autumn runs her fingers through my hair. “No, not right now.”
I search her eyes, nod. “No problem.”
“But—” Autumn starts, her voice faltering a bit. She looks down to where the ghost is working my dick again with her mouth. Autumn can’t see her, of course, but there’s no missing the way my hips are flexed, the way my dick pulses. She clears her throat. “Can I see you come?”