Haunting Sin

The cool liquor swirled in my
mouth. I heard the constant thrums of the nightclub’s music like a second
beating heart. I ran my hands down the cold brick wall, clawing at the rough
rock. I liked the roughness under my fingertips. I liked the pain. I liked the
pain even more since it kept me in the present and not drifting away into
oblivion. I had to keep my mind about me. His large hands cupped the curve of
my breast and I knew I was falling out of reality.

 
I moaned in appreciation at his wandering hands. It had been
too long since I felt a man’s touch and even longer since a man who knew how to
play me like an instrument. The music escaping the club had me heady or maybe
it was the half dozen drinks. I smiled at my joke and closed my eyes, arching
my back into those wonderful hands.

The buttons of my top sprang free.
The desert night air felt cool on my sweat-slicked body. I could imagine my
body open to the world and snickered in my dreamlike haze. He tended to me like
I was an exquisite prize he just won and he had to learn every inch of me. It
really had been far too long since a man touched me.

I could feel him lean in closer and
his cool breath pass over my breast. That soft cool breath snapped me from my
dream. A man’s breath shouldn’t be cool. I looked at him on his knees, as he
began to slide up my skirt. I saw the cool blue smoky mist seeping from his
eyes and his thin lips. His hands slid up my sides and he trailed cool kisses
up my body. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes in silent argument with
myself.

Part of me wasn’t willing to make
him stop, but the other intrusive bitch wouldn’t let up. He was after all a
ghost. He had been dead for few years; otherwise he couldn’t hold his form this
well. My analyzing was starting to dampen my need. I was here for business.
 
I purred when he snaked his hands
behind me and roughly grabbed my ass. Trails of kisses over my collarbone
lowered to my aching nipples.

I knew I shouldn’t enjoy this, but
a woman could get used to phantom hands. They could be everywhere and nowhere,
all at the same time. The cold bite of his mouth over my needy breasts was
enough to give me the strength to push him away. No matter how tempting it
felt, it wasn’t natural.

I was finally grounded to reality
and standing only a few feet away from a devastatingly handsome ghost. He was
tall, hankering over my five foot eight inches. His hair was short, but long
enough to fall into his intense gaze. In life, he must’ve had the kind of eyes
to make a girl’s panties melt. In death, the soft blue light pooling out of his
eyes gave him a predatory stare, but it was sexy enough to make a good girl
want to go bad. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind he was bad too.

I stared up the long lean length of
him, my eyes catching the bulge of muscles and stopping at the cruel quirk of
his thin lips.
 
The twist of his
lips and the taunting gleam in his eyes was like a bucket of cold water on my
libido. I buttoned up my blouse, not loving the tremble in my hands. A small
part of me wanted to rip my clothes off and beg for his touch; the other part
wanted to run screaming from the hungry look in his eyes.

“You’ve been a very naughty ghost
Richard Parker.” The use of his name didn’t have the desired effect on him. He
only shrugged his shoulders and began to creep forward with a deliciously
masculine sway of his hips. I gnawed on my lips to concentrate. I held up my
hand and he stopped just enough so I could feel the hard muscles of his chest
underneath my palm. I wanted to fuck him and I wanted to fuck him really bad. I
pulled myself together enough to remove my now wandering hand.

This ghost was starting to get on
my nerves. My voice hardened to the business tone I always use with ghosts.
“You’ve been luring women out here.” He blinked sheepishly at me. “I only want
to have a little fun. Don’t you want to have some fun with me?” When his hands
touched me again, exhilaration raced through me. I jumped back from him. I’ve
encountered some ghosts before and I knew a few tricks, but this was new.
  

Every time he touched me, I could
feel lust pour through my veins. This ghost was sex on a stick, but I only had
to remember the fate of his last few “lovers” to make iron determination push
out any lingering lust. This ghost was a murderer and I hadn’t figured out how
he’d been doing it until I was tonsil-deep full of him.

The need I felt wasn’t real; he had
been coaxing it out of me to drain my body of its energy. I shouldn’t have
taken this job. I shouldn’t have tempted this ghost, because the look on his
face was plainly transmitting that he didn’t plan on letting me leave alive.

I had some experience with the
occasional poltergeist or even the average unintentional ghost, but I was out
of league with Richard and he knew it.

I had done some research on the
curious deaths that had plagued the desolate nightclub. One woman after
another, found lifeless with a smile on her face. The police had no leads, but
I had a feeling something was amiss and started looking into the establishment.
I found a small newspaper article on the death of a Richard Parker. A woman’s
jealous lover had murdered him and within a year, women were being found dead
around the nightclub’s surrounding area. It was too much of a coincidence for
the psychic in me to ignore. I hinted to the police that the deaths may have a
paranormal cause, but I was laughed out of the station.

I don’t even know how one of the
victims’ parents knew of me, but he found me and offered me a thousand dollars
to extinguish the ghost. I don’t know why he believed me. I wasn’t going to take
the job, but I needed to money, desperately. I decided to take the job and I
dutifully came out here with salts and sage ready to cleanse the building. I
had the sinking feeling that if I threw salt at Richard Parker he would only
laugh at me.

I tried backing up slowly, but my
back came in contact with the cool nightclub wall. I glanced down at my feet
and kicked my purse into my hands. If I was going to die, I wasn’t going to go
down without a fight. I fumbled through my purse for my salt. Richard came
running at me and I dumped my bag on the floor looking for anything I could use
as a weapon against the ghost. I grabbed the sage just as a large hand circled
around my neck and began to drag me up the wall.

How could I have ever felt excited
by those cruel hands? I saw the fury in his handsome face as he pressed his
head forward and planted a kiss on my neck. I was amazed at how fast the fear
drained out of me. I could feel my body start to respond to him.

I looked in my hands and realized I
didn’t have a match. Only sage smoke could deter a ghost. The sage in my hands
was absolutely useless. I hated myself for the giddy feeling Richard gave me. I
could feel the same smile of his previous victims form on my face. A tear slid
out of my eye. I could feel death approaching.

My breath began to come in shallow
puffs and I arched my back. I could feel the beginning of an orgasm. I couldn’t
die here like this. I still had the sage in my hand and I began to rub it
furiously. I’ve known other psychics to use sage oil in place of the dried
leaves. If only I could get enough of the essence on my hand it might have some
effect. I prayed this would work. I could feel my life slipping into him. When
the smell of sage was strong in the night air, I threw it down and pressed my
hand to his face.

My sage coated hand began to melt
into his handsome face. I could hear it sizzle and smell the thick aroma of
ozone. He screamed and looked up at me with a savage expression. I slammed my
hand into his face again, putting all my strength into the attack. The half of
his face I was assaulting began to dissipate, deforming the other side into a
grotesque parody. He dropped me and stumbled back a few steps. I landed on my
feet and prepared for his attack, when suddenly a dark figure barreled into
him.

I heard male grunts and saw Richard
and another man in a fierce fight. The new man was human and that was enough to
make him my new ally. I bent down and searched through my purse determined to
help the stranger. My shaky hands couldn’t find the cheap plastic lighter. I
threw down the sage in frustration. In the moonlight my eye caught the glint of
my glass bottle of salt. I quickly grabbed the bottle and went running in the
direction of the noise. The two men were wrestling in the dirt. I saw a long
gun scattered on the desert floor. I slipped behind the two grappling men and
uncorked my bottle.

I poured a heaping mound of salt
into my hand and catapulted it in the direction of Richard’s back. As I
thought, the salt didn’t have much effect on him, but it was enough to give the
other man the advantage. He kicked Richard off of him and got up just in time
to stop what would have been a devastating blow from the ghost. In their
struggles the gun was flung towards me.

I bent down to examine it and
prayed it could be useful. There were a thousand thoughts running through my
head at that moment, mainly my concern over discovering my hero had what
appeared to be an assault rifle. I picked the gun up; I was apprehensive it
would do Richard any harm but I was willing to try. Glass crunched under my
foot. The rifle’s ammunition seemed to have been contained in a now broken
glass jar connected to the base of the gun. A slew of quick curse words escaped
my mouth.

The moonlight outlined the shards
of glass and a few rounds of ammunition. I heard labored breathing and I knew
it was that of my rescuer. If I didn’t do something soon, Richard was going to
send us both on an express ride to Hell.

I shook the rifle in my hands
relieving it of two small pieces of ammunition. I squinted my eyes and held it
up to the moonlight. It was a metal screw. I twirled it in my fingers,
surprised by its weight. It wasn’t just any metal; it was iron, the perfect
ghost and ghoul repellant. I smashed the rifle to the ground, shattering what
was left of the glass jar. I groped through the sparse grass for the iron
nails. I searched as quickly as my hands would allow because time was running
out and I could hear the tick tock of the Grim Reaper’s clock.

I finally managed to collect a
handful of nails. I ran over to the grappling men. My hero was obviously
getting a beating from the savage spirit. Richard saw me approach; he stood up
and placed his foot squarely on the man’s chest. “I could eat his soul. You
know that? But women just taste so much better!” Furry erupted inside of me; I
stopped at ten feet in front of him. “Taste this!” I yelled and threw the iron
nails at him. The nails seemed to seep into him and pause half way through his
body. Shock was on Richard’s face and then it turned to fear. I hate to say I
was pleased by his fear, pleased to know that he felt at least a small bit of
the terror he has caused to all those women.

I stared at Richard’s body as its
solid form began to fade into translucence. The atmosphere became electric.
Static made the fine hairs stand on my neck. I could hear the man behind me
slowly rise to his feet. Shock stapled me to the ground. I couldn’t look away
from Richard. Coils of energy seemed to snake out of him. He began to quake and
I started to cautiously walk backwards. Suddenly light encompassed his body. I
felt a heavy weight tackle me to the floor and cover my head as Richard
exploded, sending shards of iron shrapnel rocketing towards the ground.

I opened my eyes and peaked through
large hands at the now quiet desert. I decided that was the end of Richard, the
murdering sex fiend ghost. My eyes stretched when I felt hot breath caress my
neck. I had considered the stranger a friend when the situation was two humans
against one insane ghost. Now that the ghost was out of the equation, I felt
like our truce was strained. There was a very real, very masculine man on my
back, who felt the need to carry assault weapons out to a desolate desert
nightclub.

I swallowed to ease my dry throat and
waited for him to move. I must have had phantom lust still tingling with my
nerves, because this man’s weight and wide shoulders felt too good on top of
me. I was so thankful when he finally slowly rolled off of me, because it was
too tempting to grind my ass into his hips. I was suddenly breathless. Damn
ghosts.

The man was dressed in all black,
from his loose-necked t-shirt to his bulky cargo pants; his outfit screamed
military. My eyes traveled up his body, admiring his form. I could make out
strong thighs and a narrow waist through the suddenly too bulky clothes. I
tilted my head up and imagined a broad chest and sculpted shoulders. He had
strong thick arms and probably an ass so tight women would pay for the
privilege to pinch.