A chill runs through me and my nipples harden to stiff peaks against the satin material of my bra. Gentle fingers caress my bangs away from my face where they’d fallen, and I savor the cool touch. My eyes slowly flutter open and my breath catches in my throat. A man. A gorgeous man.Whew. I should probably be concerned that I’m apparently having lucid hallucinations, but I’m not. Not when they look like this.
It’s like my mind has conjured me an age appropriate Devon Sawa or like… that one dreamy fanfiction blond. Either way, he’s made up of all my personal favorite features and it’s doingthingsto me. His firm lips are upturned at the corners as if a smile is always lingering. His strong jaw tapers down to an adorably dimpled chin, and his down-turned hooded almond shapedeyes are accentuated by prominent laugh lines, which further enhance their vibrant green depths.
His strikingly handsome face exudes a sort of magnetism that pulls me in and makes me want to give him everything—anything he asks for. My eyes drop to his lips and my tongue darts out, ready to ask him to fulfill at least three of my romance novel fantasies before the drugs wear off, but the words don’t come. My brow pinches and I try to swallow down some of my lust. This is insane, I mean I don’t normally mix gummies and Klonopin, but I’ve done it on the rare occasion I have to travel by vehicle and this devastatingly gorgeous Jane Austen hero hallucination thing has never happened to me before.
“Y-you have… the most beautiful haunting green eyes.” I stare at his soulful mossy green irises and can practically feel the wind from the moors on my skin, not that I’ve ever seen them in person. I reach out to touch him and brush my fingers across his face, wanting to draw him down to me but he breaks the contact and looks around with shock and confusion. I scowl in frustration. What good are gorgeous drug-induced hallucinations if they won’t help you live out your sexual fantasies? Oh well, if he won’t help I’ll just do it myself.
I let my hand trail down to the waistband of my leggings and dip underneath, pushing aside the fabric from my practical cotton panties to get straight to my sex. I haven’t had a good orgasm in at least a week as I’ve agonized over this trip… and seeing as masturbation is usually one of my biggest stress-coping mechanisms, I’m currently wound tighter than an eight-day clock. I let my eyes wander to take in the details of this charming figment of my imagination.
His shaggy blonde hair falls over his clean-shaven face just right with a carelessness that appeals to me. Kyle takes forever to get ready and is always complaining about how I need to put more effort into my appearance. I bet this guy wouldn’t care. Wecould be shaggy together while we shag. I snort and separate my wet folds as I start to trace circles around my clit. Despite being an avid masterbater, I don’t normally go full manual. Partially because my arms feel too short to actually finger myself with my stomach in the way, and partially—and mostly—because I’m lazy and would much rather use my extensive toy collection.
Mr. Gorgeous locks those soul-binding green eyes on mine again and I bite down on a moan as I work my fingers faster against my swollen clit. The sound of my own wetness is currently turning me into a wanton temptress as I silently fuck this man with my eyes. His hand lands on my thigh and my whole body pulses with need. I watch as a shudder runs through his body and warmth pools in my belly as I clench around nothing. He gasps as his eyes follow my hand into my pants and my hips rise up slightly to grind against my hand. I’m so close, but there’s an ache in my core that builds as my orgasm gets closer. I need more. His hand tightens on my thigh as he lets out a throaty growl and I silently beg him to move higher, even as my vision goes white and my climax rocks through me.
Someone gasps from the other room and I feel heat flood my face as I glance toward the kitchen. Oh my gods! I just diddled myself in full view of my best friend and my… Kyle. What the hell is wrong with me? I mean, yeah I’m heavily medicated but voyeurism has never really been my thing. Before I can even begin to fully comprehend the situation the kitchen cabinets all slam open and my dizziness and nausea return with a vengeance. I groan and turn back toward my mystery man but (shocker!) he’s gone. I knew he was just a hallucination, so why am I overwhelmed by the bite of the bitter disappointment coursing through me right now?
I can hear Gabbi talking to Kyle in the other room but I bury my face into the arm of the sofa and studiously ignore them. I really don’t want to interact with Kyle right now, especially afterthat. I mean, I’ve known him since we were kids and we’ve been messing around on and off since high school. He’s your run-of-the-mill selfish lover, although he mostly gets the job done. But never once, in all of the years that we’ve been together have I ever felt a connection with him as strongly as I just felt with a friggen figment of my drug-addled mind. What does that say about me? My eyes sting and my throat gets thick as I fight back tears. How the hell did I let everything get this bad? Even the people I keep around for comfort feel so distant from me.
Gabbi has this amazing job right out of school, working with her dad’s real estate company, and I’m happy for her, really I am… it’s just… not the same anymore. She’s got a life now, and I’m so happy that all of her hard work and carefully laid plans have come to fruition. I just wish I didn’t feel like such a burden.
“Hey, Tee… h-how are you doing? You alright?” Gabbi’s shaky voice cuts through my morose.
I force a small smile and some levity that I don’t feel into my voice as I mumble, “Oh, you know… just practicing my hand-to-gland combat.”
Gabbi’s face relaxes and she huffs out a laugh. “Yeah well, I’ve been your best friend since before you got your first toy, and I know that was long enough ago that you should probably be an expert by now.”
I pull my face from the couch and grin at her. A giggle escapes my lips and before I can even respond we’re both laughing. “Ah, yes… but an expert must hone their craft!”
“I’m just shocked you could get a lady boner with that pendejo around,” Gabbi sucks her teeth and scowls at me. “I’ll save you the lecture right now but don’t think you won’t be getting an ear full when you’re sober. He tried to grab my ass on the way out!”
I groan and roll my eyes. “Ugh, gods I’m so sorry.”
“No, no. It’s him who will be sorry. But I digress,” Gabbi holds her hands up and purses her lips with her typical sass beforeher expression sobers. She bites her lower lip and her eyebrows scrunch with her next words. “Tee… I know this is probably going to sound a little loca, but did you… see anything, before?”
I look around in confusion and ask, “You mean the house? No, the estate people didn’t really give me a lot to go on.” Gabbi looks distressed by my answer and I rush to say, “But don’t worry Gabs, I like it so far. Really. I mean, I’m like ninety-five percent certain that this couch is magic.”
Gabbi tries to hold back a smile as she shakes her head at my antics. She learned a long time ago that humor is my number one coping mechanism, right there next to masturbation, apparently.
“That’s good. I’m glad you like it… but I mean, like a ghost. Did you see the ghost?”
My smile falls and my eyes search Gabbi’s face in vain. She’s serious. Oh gods. Oh my gods!
“You saw him too?” I gasp in disbelief. He was real?
“Fuck.” Gabbi drops her face into her hands and sighs. “I was really hoping you’d say no… but I guess at least this means I’m not losing my mind.”
My heart skips a beat and an insane kernel of hope blooms in my chest. I should probably increase my virtual therapy appointments, because why the hell am I more excited than freaked out about the possibility of a perverted ghost living in my house?
I tilt my head to the side as I try to wrap my still wobbly mind around this new development.
“Wait… why aren’t you more freaked out about this? You wouldn’t go into the senior lounge at Buckton Hall for a full month after Tiffany told you that she heard from her cousin that someone died in there.” Then it hits me…my jaw drops and I squint at Gabbi, “Did you know that you were helping me move into a haunted house?”
Gabbi shifts nervously before she moves forward and taps my feet. I lift them up and she settles into the couch before I lay them back down across her lap. She clears her throat and fiddles with my shoe laces while pointedly not making eye contact.
“I suspected, but I swear to God, I’ve never seen anything before tonight and my family has helped manage this listing for years.” Gabbi finally lifts her eyes to mine. “You know you can always come stay with me if you need to, you don’t have to stay here.”
I let out a little puff of air and shrug my shoulder trying to seem nonchalant, while feeling anything but, “Oh, I don’t know… he didn’t seem so malevolent. I guess I can always drag all that crap from my teenage witch phase out of storage and light some candles and sage and shit.”
Gabbi opens her mouth to say something but I cut her off, “Plus… I do have to stay here. Aside from the fact that it took a cocktail just shy of a horse tranquilizer to get me here. You know the terms, probably better than I do. If I want the estate to keep covering my living expenses, I need to stay in this place for at least six months.” She’s nodding her head in resignation before I even finish and we fall into a companionable, if not slightly bummed, silence.
