Would You Smooch A Ghost Novels & Stories

Leaning over my shoulder, he tapped at the keys in swift, effortless strokes. I slid into the mind-link. “Does Ghost know he’s your password?” “Unless you want a fireball shoved down your throat, you won’t say anything.” “I love cinnamon. Your scent smells like cinnamon, actually. Does your cum taste like it too? Is that why Ghost hovers around you like he’s your personal poltergeist?” Damon’s eyes flashed, and for a brief second I felt a ripple of flame coast along my skin. When I glanced down, the hairs along my arm were singed.

He stood up and walked to where he used to out his books, he took a small but old looking book and came back to where he was sitting, next to me. "I read it in this book , there is a certain theory which say that people might have ghost clones, these clones looks and dresses exactly like the original you and they can do anything you can do. Sometimes if you are lucky you can have a good clone but if you are unlucky you are likely to have a bad and evil clone , which means you are unlucky because yours is evil" he explained. His explanation shocked me , i have never heard such things and I've never believed in ghost theories.

“What’s the punishment if I drag her off and fuck her right now anyway?” “Punishment is it goes up to a month,” Echo replies. Ghost freezes. His eyes narrow, calculating. For a second, I actually think he’s considering it. I reach up and kiss his cheek gently. “Vesper!” Echo barks. “No touching.” Laughing, I step away completely. “Fine. I’ll go get changed.” Ghost snatches my wrist. “Hell no. If I can’t touch, I at least get to fucking look.” “Right. And while you’re busy enjoying the view, so is every other guy out here,” I point out, arching a brow.

“Especially considering there’s a dead body right fucking there.” We both laugh, the tension cracking just slightly, and I lean into Ghost again, letting him hold me because, fuck, I need it right now. “Like I care,” Ghost taunts, the smirk evident in his voice. “I’d happily fuck him on his grave.” “No,” I mutter, shaking my head against his shoulder. His laughter is loud, unapologetic.“Guess I found one of your hard limits,” he muses. “No fucking on your father’s grave.”

"Really, Clyone. What if you were sleeping with a corpse last night?" "It's not halloween yet." I let out a small yet awkward laugh, but failed to light up the mood. You were just there, staring straight to my soul, waiting for an answer as if you were asking some really important and serious matter. My smile dropped. I raised my hand to brush up your hair again while staring to it. After the first brush, you held my wrist before I could make another one. My eyes averted to yours. "What if you're actually spending a vacation with a ghost?"

“At least we made it to the bed before you had me screaming your name.” He gave me that smirk I’d always loved when I was younger, and now we’d both grown up a bit… oh, it made me feel things. Ghost leaned over me, that smirk still pulling at the corners of his lips. Before I could say anything at all, his mouth crashed into mine, his hands pressing my hands into the mattress by my head. He licked my bottom lip, demanding I give in to him, and he groaned when I did, adjusting himself so his very hard length was pressing against my leg.

The guy barely nods, but Luca doesn’t seem to care. He turns back to me, his eyes glinting with mischief. “So, what’s the plan? We hunt this ghost down, shake them up a bit, and make them spill their spectral secrets?” I smirk despite myself. “Yeah, something like that. Let’s see if we can find out anything useful about that key. Maybe there’s a ghost bored enough to chat.” “Or rant,” Luca adds with a wink. “Old ghosts love a good rant. Especially the ones who think they’re still living in the 1800s.”

But the rabbit vanishes with it. I suck in a breath, shoving his hand away. “Don’t touch me.” “You were about to walk straight into a tree.” “I had it handled.” He doesn’t argue, just studies me for a long second. “Next time, let me distract the ghosts. I’ve got experience being annoying.” “Congratulations.” He grins. “Thanks, I practice.”

commented the smoky Chelsea . There were so many things that Iliana wanted to say to her not to mention the spooky smoky gray were seriously making her hair stand on edge but all she could do was look at Chelsea or whatever it was, with her mouth gaping open . " What? have you never seen a soul?" said the smoky ghost of Chelsea wapishly " As a matter of fact , I haven't " Iliana was suprised that she was acting in such a normal manner, maybe a screw was loose somewhere in her brain for her to start up chatting with a ghost instead of turning around and running but then again where was she going to run? She didn't even knew where she was !

"Everyone in back, move it! The higher-ups are breathing down our necks again." All the Phantom Patrols wore boring suits and had completely forgettable faces. Blanc and Noir stood out though. They kept taking a step forward, then glancing back at her nervously. Some Phantom Patrol they knew walked over. "How come you only brought one today? Are you still dealing with that York family mess?" He pulled out what looked like a Ghost Candle and offered it to Blanc. Both of them sniffed it hard—that was how dead people socialized down here, and it's called soul communion. They were pretty much like cigarettes for living people, but way more potent.