Megan Trent jerked out of a deep sleep to the cacophony of sound as her clock radio turned on and off in a rapid beat of white noise and eerie silence. She stared in terror, her heartbeat pounding in her throat, as the red display numbers flickered in and out with a frantic Morse code lightshow.
Gasping in an ice-cold breath, goose bumps pimpled her flesh, and her breath plumed in the frigid air. Air at odds with the heatwave when she’d gone to bed. She knew he had come again in the deep, predawn hours of the night. That time when the veil between reality and imagination is whisper thin.
Her lover.
Her dead husband’s ghost.
Like fingers on the Ouija board’s planchette, her thoughts stood uncertain and shaking between yes, I will and no, I won’t. A swift, eager decision brought peace to her heart and her mind. Happy tears poured down her wintery-cold cheeks as she fell back against her pillow and gave in to the temptation yet again.
Her eyes closed, tears frozen on her icy skin, Aaron’s memorable scent of spicy musk aftershave filled the air, enveloping her and the sheets, as if he were truly there with her. Megan sighed and arched her back as his familiar weight pressed her deep into the mattress, his effervescent flesh surrounding her. His soldier-hardened hands caressed her face and wiped the dampness from her cheeks, the calluses rasping against her tender skin. Her face warmed with passion as his cool lips slid along her jaw. Cold, sweet breath tickled the hairs by her ear as Aaron found the familiar, sweet spot between her neck and shoulder. The one that set her nerves to zinging. A tingle shot straight to between her thighs, wetting her panties as her breath caught on a sigh.
Heat bubbled beneath her skin, competing with the chill of the room as Aaron’s mouth kissed her neck, his tongue teasing on her skin. Pleasure spiked through her body as his teeth nipped her ear. Goose bumps that had nothing to do with cold, and everything to do with passion, ran down her arms and legs. The pleasure built as the familiar, comforting feelings they’d always shared filled her body and soul. The familiar moves and rhythms comforted her.
Her breasts ached as Aaron’s firm chest slid against her. Her nipples tightened with need. Megan’s arms reached for him and encountered cold, empty air. A cry escaped her lips just before Aaron’s mouth claimed her in a hot, passionate kiss. He tasted of want and need, a need as strong as her own.
She lost all coherent thought as his hands were everywhere, as impossible as that was, as if he had more than two. A warmth flooded between her thighs as his hands brushed lightly across her breasts, the nipples hard and tight, pebbled beneath the thin fabric of her sleep shirt.
She grasped handfuls of silk sheets as his mouth suckled her breasts through the sheer fabric. Wetness chaffed her tender flesh as he slid down her body. Her back rose off the bed as his cool mouth and tongue reached the juncture between her thighs. A husky moan escaped her as his tongue slipped inside her and played with her tender flesh. In her imagination, her hands grasped his soft, thick hair and pulled him closer. Her husky whisper rang in the empty room as she begged for more.
Her inner vision and memories replaced empty air with strands of surfer, sun-kissed hair. In her treasured fantasies, she could look deep into his blue eyes and lose herself, make time stand still, make the past the present. Like a dream, she could caress his face, touch his skin, and revel in erotic love play.
A whimper of protest slipped between her lips as she held on to the sheets, knowing if she touched him, opened her eyes to see him—the illusion would be gone. If she risked trying to view him, she would see nothing but a few twinkling lights and misty shadows above her bed. Her eyelids tightened as she fought to hold onto the deception for a little longer. A deception made easier as he found her night after night, bringing a remembered pleasure. One she’d been missing for too long.
She sighed as more weight settled on her and pressed her into the bed, the sheets piling around her like clouds. Aaron’s spicy scent enveloped her, his mouth found hers and she tasted herself on his tongue. A sweet scent flooded her mouth as her tongue glided across his. Her breath came in short pants and he slid into her. His flesh filled her full and beyond. Every nerve ending screamed for more. Slowly, he slid in and out of her wet center. Her inner muscles tightened to feel every stroke of his heated flesh. Longer. It had to last longer. Let it last until she reached orgasm.
Blood and heat rushed to her sex. Her heart pounded double-time to every thrust. Colors swirled behind her eyelids and the tempo raced faster and faster and harder and harder. Her hands reached behind her head and grasped the ironwork of the headboard. Perspiration coated her body in the frozen room as the climax approached. Pleasure on the thin edge of pain radiated through her body as fingers tangled in her hair and lips and tongue pressed against her neck. Everything in the universe centered between her thighs where her husband drove her to completion. Nothing else in the world mattered except he was where he was supposed to be.
“Yes, Aaron,” she whimpered, as she moved faster to the edge. Fireworks exploded in her head as her flesh grasped him in her hot pleasure. Her muscles tightened around him until he found his release as well.
“I love you, Aaron.”
Dawn etched the window with golden light around the closed blinds. She opened her eyes as the light shone through her eyelids. Aaron's ghost shimmered for a second in a familiar shape before dissolving into dust motes and sprinkles of light fooling the eye into believing he’d been there. Megan raised her arms and cried out at his leaving. She was losing her mind. All this just a delusion in her sick, lonely mind. She’d been fucking a phantom.
She kicked the covers to the floor. Rolling over, she sniffed the musky scent of the sheets. The smell of sex surrounded her. Her face burrowed into the material. This was real. The smell of their lovemaking saturated the sheets. Her body loose, relaxed, and sated with intense lovemaking.
Her fingers grasped the bunched, rumpled material, holding on to the sensations of pleasure from moments before. Her body still twitched with sexual satisfaction. Her inner muscles still clenched in ecstasy, her orgasm still roiled through her body. She opened her fists as her body cooled, perspiration evaporated, and the tingling feeling left her body. She curled into a fetal position, refusing to accept the truth—she had no one. Just a figment of her imagination to pleasure her.
“I hate you, Aaron,” she cried as the room warmed and brightened with sunlight for another scorching California day.