by Jamie Hill
He looked at her. “Someone should have known."
"Yes,” she agreed. “We try to get all the information we can on our listings. I'm not sure how this was omitted.” She stood up next to him and touched his arm. “Does it bother you very badly?"
He stared at her and then looked around to be sure none of the other three people in the office were listening. “It probably wouldn't, if Danielle had left. She's still there, Sela. I see her every night.” He couldn't bear to elaborate.
She laughed and then stopped when she saw he wasn't joking. “Nick, I know you write sci-fi and those strange stories, but are you expecting me to believe—"
"I'm not expecting anything, Sela. I'm just trying to piece together what I know. I have a ghost in my house—a beautiful, sexy, red-haired ghost with the same face as a woman who died there five years ago."
"That's ridiculous."
He took a step closer to her. “You're sure about that? When you left my house yesterday, did you notice how windy it was?"
"It wasn't windy at all,” she said. “It was a beautiful day."
Nick looked at her. “Then where did the gust of wind come from that blew open the door and spilled my drink?"
"Well...” she hesitated.
"I'll tell you where it came from.” He lowered his voice. “I was thinking about taking you to bed yesterday. I was one second away from pulling you into my arms when my ghost—Danielle—interrupted."
Sela swooned, and caught herself against her desk. “Oh, Nick.” Her face flushed and he knew she was thinking about his taking her to bed rather than his ghost. “I would have liked that very much."
He gave her a regretful look. “I would have liked it too, Sela. But I have a problem, and I can't start anything new until I resolve this situation with Danielle."
Sela's eyes flashed angrily. “You've got to be fucking kidding me!"
Nick snapped back at her “No, I fucking am not. I know enough about ghosts to understand that Danielle has some unfinished business. I've got to figure out what it is, and then hopefully, she can cross to the other side and rest in peace."
Sela took a step away from him and shook her head. “You're nuts. You've been writing too many weird stories."
"So I assume this means you're not interested in helping me?"
"Fucking-A, that's what it means,” Sela snarled at him. “I could have showed you a real good time. I don't care if you write about that psycho bullshit, but I'm not interested in a guy who actually believes it. You're a real whack-job, buddy."
Nick smirked and started to leave. “Guess it's a good thing you found that out now, before anything happened between us."
She gave him a look akin to shooting darts out of her eyes as he left. He was halfway home before he remembered the article about Danielle—he left it on Sela's desk. It didn't really matter, he found out what he needed to know. Nick also found out how other people would react to the mention of a ghost in his house. He hadn't even told her he was having nightly sex with Danielle and Sela freaked out at the mere mention of the word ghost. He wondered how she would feel about ghost intercourse? Personally, he liked ghost humping, and he found himself getting defensive and feeling protective of his relationship with Danielle.
Walking into his house, Nick kept going to the bedroom and tossed his keys on the dresser. “I found out who you are,” he said loudly. “Your name is Danielle. I bet people called you Dani.” He listened, but the house was quiet. “I like the name Dani, so I'm going to call you that, okay? If you don't like it, you'll have to let me know.” Silence. He sat on his bed.
"The newspaper said you killed Ross Lenhart.” Nick's car keys whizzed past his head and slammed against the wall before they dropped to the floor. “Ooh, struck a nerve there! I didn't say I believed it. In fact, I don't think you did it. I don't know much about you, but what I sense is that you loved life, and it's doubtful you would have killed yourself. Would you like me to help you clear your name?"
Nick watched in amazement as his car keys returned gently to the dresser top. “Okay, Dani, I'll try. I'm not sure what I'm going to be able to do—” He trailed off as his keys stood up and began scratching a word into the wooden dresser. He walked over to look at it. Dani had scratched the word try.
"I will,” he said softly, rubbing a finger over the etching. “I promise."
* * * *
When he went to bed that night, Nick was hoping somehow to maintain consciousness so he could communicate with Dani. He didn't know if it was possible, but he drilled the idea into his mind, and it took a long time before he finally fell asleep. He woke to the feeling of kisses circling his navel.
He opened his eyes and saw her above him. At least he thought he opened his eyes—at this point, he couldn't tell his dreams from reality anymore. He was happy to see Danielle, though, and had the urge to pull her into his arms and comfort her. He reached his hand out and ran his fingers through her long, silky hair. “You are so beautiful, Dani,” he murmured to her.
She looked up at him, and for the first time, Nick noticed how sad she appeared. Her eyes were red-rimmed and brimming with tears.
"Please don't cry.” He ran a hand over her face and brushed a tear away with his thumb. “I wish you could talk to me and tell me what you want."
Love me.
He felt the words rather than heard them. Nick reached for her and pulled her to a sitting position on top of him. He leaned up and buried his face in the white gauzy fabric that covered her breasts. “I want to love you, Dani. You're so beautiful. I want to make love with you."
She released one button and her breasts spilled into his face and hands. Nick cupped her and squeezed her fullness as he pulled a rosy nipple into his mouth. “You taste so good.” He suckled her breast until the nipple was swollen and hard, and then he moved to the other side. When that nipple was puckered to a firm nub, Dani squeezed them together so he could lick them both at once. Then she pressed her hand against his head, urging him to continue, to take more of her.
Nick groaned as his erection throbbed beneath her weight. He wiggled his hips and Dani pulled back gently from him, stopping for a moment to allow their mouths to find each other. He opened his lips and let her tongue explore every inch before his delved forward to investigate her mouth. She tasted so sweet to him that Nick hoped the kiss would never end.
When she pulled away, he wanted to complain, until she flipped around and buried her face between his legs. She licked the length of his thighs and occasionally nipped at him. The shock of the bites was tempered by the wet gentleness of her tongue licking him all over—that is, everywhere except the spot he most wanted her mouth. His cock stood proudly like a flagpole but she ignored it, kissing and licking everything around it. She sucked his balls into her mouth and Nick moaned with pleasure.
Dani shifted and dropped her pussy to his face. He used his fingers to open her folds and find her pretty pink clit. He flicked it with his tongue and she bucked against him with pleasure. Nick smiled at her reaction and buried his face into her steamy hot box. He sucked her clit into his mouth and stretched it with gentle tugs of his teeth. He tongued her slit and when he inserted a finger, she rode him vigorously.
He had three fingers in her pussy and his tongue on her clit when he finally felt her clamp down on his cock and suck him energetically. “Oh my God,” Nick groaned, and felt his gush of hot cum explode in her mouth. She latched on and stayed with him through his orgasm, and then he felt shudders and her hot juices flowed, streaming over his face and fingers as they pumped into her. “Oh yeah, Dani.” He kissed her inner thigh and slapped her ass lightly.
When she turned around and collapsed on top of him, Nick cradled her in his arms and kissed the top of her head softly. “That was so fucking fantastic; I almost don't want to let you go."
She reached over and bit his nipple hard enough to draw blood.
"Hey!” he shoved her lightly. “I said almost! I promised to help you, remember?"
She looked into his eyes and he could see how miserable she was. “I promised you, Dani, and I always keep my promises.” He leaned down and kissed the top of her head again.
Dani straddled him and began stroking his cock with both hands.
"I don't think so, baby,” he murmured languidly. “You're as hot as hell, but after what you just did, there's no way...” he stopped. His cock was rock hard and she was sliding her pussy onto it. “Oh Christ,” he muttered. He didn't know he had it in him, but the next thing he knew, he was gyrating his hips as Dani pummeled herself on his rod over and over again.
"Oh yeah, fuck me, baby ... ride me hard...” He leaned up to catch one bobbing nipple between his teeth, and groaned as Dani knifed her sharp fingernails into his shoulders. “Yeah, that's it..."
Nick was on the verge of climax when he heard a woman's voice say, “Not again."
His eyes darted open and he saw through Dani—literally right through Dani—Sela Cooper with a gun pointed directly at him.
"I won't let you do this again!"
"Sela!” Nick was suddenly alone on the bed, his pulsing cock pointing north proudly for everyone to see.
"Where is she?” Sela spun around, confused.
He jumped out of bed and tugged a pair of jeans up and over him. “How did you get in here?” Nick asked, confused. “And why in the hell do you have a gun?"
"I'm a realtor, remember?” she looked at him. “But I've always had a key."
"What are you talking about?” Nick was still confused, but the glazed look in Sela's eyes concerned him more at this point. “What's wrong with you?"
"Where is she?” Sela took a step toward Nick, waving the gun.
"Who?” he hedged.
"I saw her!” Sela snapped angrily. “For the second time, I walked into this bedroom and saw her screwing my man. I thought I took care of her the first time.” She looked around and yelled, “But some people refuse to die!"
"Your man?” Nick backed up to the closet. “Ross Lenhart..."
"Was my husband. That little tramp seduced him—brainwashed him! I didn't want to kill him, but he said he was leaving me for that whore! I couldn't let him do it."
It all clicked into place for Nick. “So you followed him here and caught them in bed. You shot him and then made it look like she shot herself, but really, you killed Dani."
Sela sneered. “She was a whore! She deserved to die for what she did.” She looked around. “I had no idea she was still here. When you told me about her today, and how much you wanted to help her, I knew I had to come back and finish the job. I'll help the little bitch cross over—straight to hell!"
Nick saw the gun fly out of Sela's hands and land in his. He had never used a gun in his life, and had no intention of using this one. But he didn't have control of his actions. He felt a cold rush of air as he raised the pistol, aimed, and shot Sela twice in the heart. He dropped the gun to the floor and turned away, throwing up in the trash can by his bed.
He heaved and sobbed for what felt like hours, but was actually about ten minutes. When he was finally able to stand, Nick felt strangely calm and clearheaded. He reached for the phone and dialed 911. “I need the police and an ambulance,” he told the dispatcher. “I've just shot an intruder in my home."
* * * *
The policewoman who interrogated Nick was gentle and spoke soothingly to him. She allowed him to put on a shirt and they sat in the living room and talked while the other officers worked in the bedroom, and the coroner removed Sela's body. Nick gave Officer Ana Maria Rodriguez a fairly complete statement, including what he had learned about Sela's involvement with the deaths of Ross Lenhart and Danielle Marcomb. He made no mention of his sexy, redheaded ghost. There was no reason to, she was gone. Nick felt it in his gut, a sense of utter and complete peace.
"My sergeant may have a few more questions for you, Mr. Kelly,” Officer Rodriguez told him. “But you don't need to worry. This was an obvious case of self-defense. Ms. Cooper illegally used a key she obtained through her real estate office and broke into your house in the middle of the night. I'm positive the D.A. will see this as an open-and-shut case.” She stood up.
"Thank you so much,” he told her. “That's awfully good to hear—this has been quite a night."
"I imagine it has. Try to get some rest.” She handed him two business cards. “Here's the number of a cleaning company that can take care of the bloodstains in your carpet. They do excellent work. And this is my card. Please don't hesitate to call me if there is anything I can ever do for you.” She smiled at him, and Nick noticed how pretty she was with her thick dark hair pulled into a ponytail, and her attractive brown-tinted complexion.
"Of course, sure.” He didn't know what to say.
Ana Maria spoke confidentially. “I know this isn't the time, but I have to tell you, I loved your first book. I'm anxiously awaiting the sequel."
A thought clicked in Nick's head and he smiled back. “It'll be out in a few months. I've recently figured out the perfect ending, and I just have to wrap it up."
"Great,” she told him, and headed toward the front door. “Oh, and I love your place. I hope you won't let what happened here tonight chase you off—you have a truly beautiful home."
Nick looked around the perfectly neat living room. His furniture was arranged attractively, pictures hung just where he had intended to hang them, and not a box in sight. He grinned. “I love this house. I don't think I could ever leave it."
"Maybe you could, just for dinner or something, you know...” she suggested.
He flicked her card against the doorjamb. “I definitely think I could, for dinner ... or something ... you know..."
She laughed. “Goodnight, Nick."
"I'll be talking to you, Ana Maria.” He watched her go, and then closed and locked the door. He wandered through his house, checking out all the wonderfully decorated rooms. He didn't know where the boxes went, and he didn't care. He was smiling as he sauntered into his bedroom, and found it in perfect shape as well. The bed was fresh and tidy, and the carpet was as white as the day it was installed.
Nick stopped in front of his dresser and found a vase with a doily sitting on it. He moved the doily aside carefully and found the word try had been replaced by another etching: the words thank you with a small heart carved under them. Nick smiled and returned the doily to its original position.
He should have been a nervous wreck. He should have been totally freaked out by the events of the night, and to top it off—his newly decorated home. Instead, he felt the peaceful, calm feeling he knew Dani was finally experiencing. She was in a better place, and she was happy. He was in his place—a good place—and he was happy, too. He stripped and slid between the sheets.
Tomorrow, he would finish his novel. He could almost see the words in his mind he wanted to write. It might take most of the day, but he was going to get it done. Then he thought he'd give Ana Maria a call, and they'd go out for dinner one of these nights. Or they could stay in, and he could cook for her. Either way. The idea made him smile.
And when he was completely finished with Demon Life, the idea for his next book was already rattling around in his mind. Sela once told him that he wrote strange stories. What the hell, sometimes truth was stranger than fiction.
LOVE, LEANN
by
Jamie Hill
The card was signed, Love, LeAnn. Your biggest fan.
Troy McBride looked at the dozen red roses and thought it curious that someone would send them to him. The receptionist at the studio couldn't offer any information, other than a nondescript woman in a florist's van delivered them. “Oh well,” Troy murmured to himself, “fans can be crazy sometimes.” He dropped the card in the trash can and set the box of flowers on the table. Too bad his girlfriend Carrie was out of town; he could have given them to her. Maybe he'd give them to one of the girls on the set and make her day. But which one? The very idea made Troy smile, as he realized how much trou
ble he could get into. He was chuckling at the thought when his assistant entered the room.
"What's so funny, McBride?” Dave Evans dropped an armload of mail on the table and looked at his boss and friend.
"Someone sent me flowers.” Troy motioned toward the roses. “They're from my biggest fan."
"Yeah, well which one is that?” Dave ran his hand through the stack of mail. “You're getting more popular every day."
Troy grinned. “Say that when the network execs are around, would you? I'll be renegotiating my contract pretty soon, and I can use it to my advantage."
"Ha!” Dave dropped into a chair at the table. “Kismet is the hottest reality show on TV right now, and you are the hottest host. The network isn't letting you go anywhere."
"Yeah, well, we'll see...” Troy grinned again, and Dave shook his head. They both knew Troy loved the cat and mouse chase, especially when money was involved, as in contract negotiations.
Dave opened the box and looked at the roses. “Nice flowers, though. Too bad Carrie's out of town."
"Yeah, too bad,” Troy said insincerely, and looked at himself in the mirror. His short dark hair was gelled to within an inch of its life, which was just the way he liked it. The casual-messy style took his hairdresser approximately forty-five minutes each day to achieve. He rubbed his hand over his scratchy chin and mentally noted that he might need to shave in a couple of days, so the stubble didn't get too thick. The unshaven look also had to be carefully crafted. “So,” he began, still studying himself in the mirror, “are we going out tonight after the taping? Catch some dinner and a few drinks?"
"That's the plan.” Dave stood up and shoved the mail into a pile. “I'll get someone to answer these—you want to autograph pictures to send?"
"Nah.” Troy finished inspecting his appearance. “Have them use my signature stamp—it looks as good as an autograph.” He was loath to spend any of his precious time on something so trivial, when he could pay someone else to do it instead.
"Okey-dokey.” Dave rolled his eyes slightly at Troy before starting out of the room.
