A Ghost of a Chance (13 page)

Once inside, Keenan could hear the dog barking frantically. The click of claws on his hardwood floors echoed out the door.

All at once, the barking and the clicks stopped. There was a long pause then a piercing whine from the animal. In less than a second, the dog erupted out of the door like a bullet, rushed passed his handler, and took the cement stairs in one leap.

“Charlie, get back here!” The cop took off after his partner who was half way to Hawthorn by then.

Thompson scowled after the duo and quickly motioned to the other K-9 unit waiting outside a cruiser down the street. The officer missed the first signal, watching instead the retreating pair, but then caught the second one. He pulled a huge black lab out of the back of the patrol car.

The performance with this second canine was about identical to the first. Encouraging words, over enthusiasm, frightening barks, and those hard nails on even harder floors. Then silence, a loud growl, and an even louder yelp. This time the dog knocked his partner over before taking off down the street.

Keenan couldn’t stop the smile trying to make its way around his lips. He knew what was happening; it was the funniest thing he’d ever seen. At least the ghosts were good for a few laughs.

Thompson’s nose widened angrily when he glowered at Keenan, but one side of his lip went up when he apparently realized that maybe, just maybe, Keenan was telling him the truth.

He snarled and four officers gathered around him. The next orders were quiet but quick. They each pulled their weapons, made their way carefully up to the porch and lay flat on either side of the door. Keenan could only imagine that there were several cops at his back door to keep whoever was in there, in there.

“We’re coming in! Put down your weapon or we will shoot,” yelled the cop closest to the door. Keenan knew the cops were only hearing silence in return, but he heard the chaotic chortles, boos, and rude comments bursting out of the door; the ghosts were having a field day. He wished Thompson could hear them.

One by one, the cops tucked themselves into the house, guns pointed forward.

Keenan heard
clear
shouted from man to man, as they moved deeper into his home. The inside probably looked like a frat house on Sunday morning; the cops must be thinking that war had broken out in there.

The voices faded and then went silent. A minute later, the lead cop came out and swept four fingers to the group. Thompson touched the radio button.

“Dispatch, this is 7-2-2. The property is clear.”

Without preamble, he crossed to Keenan, grabbed his arm angrily, and propelled him toward his house. “That was some stunt with the dogs, asshole,” Thompson snarled under his breath. “If anything happens to them or my officers, you’re dead. Do you understand me?”

“But I didn’t…” Keenan had the protest shaken out of him.

“Shut up,” Thompson snapped. “Not a word about the ghosts.” He shook him again. “I mean that.”

“Ok.”

Keenan’s knees turned to warm pudding as he approached his front door. The sidewalk leading to the house seemed to elongate as he moved forward. The glances from the police were sympathetic at best. He was terrified.

When he entered the house, he stopped dead.

The house wasn’t the disaster area he originally thought it would be. Everything seemed to be in place, the windows were intact, and, except for stuff that was always in disarray, it all looked normal. Well almost normal; something seemed to be missing.

“Dispatch, this is 7-2-2. We’ll take victim through the house and then release for investigation. Give us about ten minutes.”

There was a hiss then, “Roger, 7-2-2.”

Keenan walked over to the gaping hole where his TV used to be and scowled at the entertainment unit. All of it was gone: the 37 inch TV, the DVD player, three video systems, all his DVDs and CDs, even the old VCR.

“Don’t touch anything,” Thompson said with authority. “Just take me on a tour and let me know what’s missing.”

Panic gripped at Keenan’s chest and he ran to his office, Thompson on his heels. The desk looked naked. They had taken not only his Mac, but the laptop, printer, and everything else. The dangling cords looked crippled and destitute. His stomach did a flip, and a good one. There wasn’t a single piece of artwork or design packet on his desk. They had not only taken all his stuff but several pieces of original artwork, one of a kind photos, and irreplaceable negatives from his clients. They had left nothing.
Oh, God, I am so fired!
Even his incomplete paintings were gone.

Urgency pushed adrenalin through his blood and he began tearing through the house, searching every room. There wasn’t a single thing of value. They had taken it all.

Keenan finally sank down on the couch and buried his face in his hands.

“Don’t worry, son,” Thompson said from behind him. “I’m bringing in a team. We’ll find your stuff.” He shook his head and touched Keenan’s shoulder. “You have the worst luck.”

That didn’t help at all.

Chapter Ten
Giving up to the Ghost

After the circus of cops left his home, Keenan stared at the empty space that used to be his TV.

They had asked him a million questions, dusted the place for prints, and searched into every private area Keenan possessed. The robbers missed his stash of porn, but the cops sure didn’t. There were many, many embarrassing moments. He felt more violated by the cops than he did by the crooks.

Thompson stayed at his side the whole time and made sure none of them got too close to the truth. Keenan had few live friends and the last thing he expected was to find one in the vet turned cop that had harassed and arrested him the night before.

Was it only last night?

Things were getting decidedly bizarre.

As he stared blankly at the vacant stand, Keenan could feel the sides of his mouth touching his chin. He got up to inspect the kitchen again. When he rediscovered the poor state of his cupboards, he shuffled back into the living room and fell down on his couch. At least they hadn’t taken it.

Fatigue wound around his face until his eyes closed on their own. It wasn’t long before he fell asleep.

* * * *

Isabella was in what must have been his bedroom, standing in one corner, counting loose change onto his dresser. She was naked except for a pancake that dangled from her right ear.

Her body was the most glorious thing Keenan had ever seen. Black areolas circled two very hard nipples and her breasts were the size of oranges. They crowded together on her chest and bounced nicely when she counted the change. His cock stiffened with each movement.

The slim waist and hips beneath them framed a flat, smooth stomach and a black triangle of curly hair beneath. That churned his juices, and he tried to move over to her, but he was stuck. He looked down at his dream self and noted with interest that he was tied to the bed with paper napkins that all had “Hotcake House” imprinted on them. His erection was the size of a bratwurst. He couldn’t move.

“Isabella?”

He knew it was his voice, but didn’t think he had opened his mouth. She looked up from the change, smiled, and put a finger to her lips.

“Shhh. I’m counting,” she said and went back to it. “Don’t look at me or I’ll have to torture you.”

He tore his eyes away, but not before one more languid inspection.

To fill the time, Keenan checked out the room. He was right, it was his bedroom, yet in a way not his bedroom. There were cubicle walls all around him instead of regular walls, a gaggle of ghosts with their faces pressed to the window glass from outside, and a cop car parked over by the bathroom. Thompson was asleep in the cruiser, snoring like a chain saw.

When Keenan looked back, Isabella had moved to the end of the bed and was standing there staring at his cock. The attention made his ass squirm and his already aching erection harder. When she licked her lips, he almost came.

Crawling very slowly over the end of the bed, Isabella’s breasts dangled darkly over his legs. He saw her black eyes when she glanced up at him, and the mischievous expression produced an even deeper anticipation. Keenan’s butt clinched without any help from him as she moved forward, spreading his legs as she came.

Sinking down until her nipples tickled the inside of his thighs, Isabella rubbed them in gentle circular motions against his legs. Her hot flesh elicited a loud moan, but not from her. Keenan’s guttural groan seemed to please her, because she lowered her head and began to lick the inside of each thigh. That really got his mouth going. He almost lost his voice with all that screaming.

When she reached his balls, Isabella stopped and Keenan groaned.

You can’t stop. Not there!

She shook her finger at him three times and, without warning, took one of his balls into her mouth. The sensation was torturous and magnificent. He shouted again despite his laryngitis.

In mid scream, a shadow solidified against the far wall. When it materialized completely, Keenan’s voice caught in his throat. The succubus, in her full glory, appeared behind Isabella.

“Isabella, watch out!”

Isabella looked behind her, and all Keenan could see was the top of her head as she confronted the apparition. Then she did a very strange thing. She laughed. It scared the shit out of him.

Without preamble, she turned her face back to him, wrapped her hand around his already engorged cock, and gave it a tight squeeze. The heat from her grip was almost painful, but it sent shards of rapture coursing through every blood vessel. Smiling sweetly, she wrapped her lips around the swollen head and sucked it into her mouth. The sudden sensation forced his eyes closed and he howled.

When he got his eyes open again, Isabella was working her mouth and hand in slow in-and-out motions down his shaft. But what took his breath away, beyond the exquisite feel of her hot mouth against his cock, was what the succubus was doing behind her; she was rubbing Isabella’s back, making her writhe against the ghostly hands. Her ass rose into the air.

Keenan watched in fascination as those strange hands moved down to Isabella’s ass and spread her wide open. With a single finger that she made sure Keenan saw, she opened Isabella’s moist pussy lips and thrust it into the hot slit to the knuckle.

The succubus extracted the finger and bent her head down to run her tongue along Isabella’s pussy, slopping up her juices.

Isabella moaned against Keenan’s hard member, the vibration deepening the ripples of bliss running through him. The entity thrust that long tongue deep into Isabella’s wet folds, first slowly, then stroking faster. Isabella’s mouth tightened down on Keenan with each thrust.

With a stifled scream, Isabella broke the seal and threw her head back, arching her spine until her soft belly hit his legs. The trembling climax that shook her body sent waves of movement through his legs, his chest, and into his head. It was as if the climax had liquefied the air.

Keenan’s hands were suddenly free, but the girls had the show so he let them continue. The succubus grabbed Isabella’s hips and turned her around so she was lying on her side facing away from Keenan. He adjusted himself until he had her between his legs. His cock stood at full alert near her open pussy. The succubus lifted Isabella’s leg and draped it over Keenan’s. His cock was throbbing with anticipation.

Keenan wrapped his arms around Isabella’s irresistible body and pulled her as close as she would go. As if on cue, the succubus grabbed his throbbing cock and guided it to Isabella’s hot moist opening.

Without an invitation, Keenan slid the swollen muscle into her heat. It was dripping wet and so tight he had to move in measured thrusts to get it all the way in. He didn’t mind. When the bottom of his shaft became soaked with her juices, he pulled it out a bit then slid it back in. Cradling her breast, he pinched the hard nipple between his thumb and index finger until Isabella’s deep moan resonated from her chest and she moved her hips against his pelvis.

The succubus floated above the couple in an almost protective stance. When they found their rhythm, waves of lust flooded Keenan’s blood. With each hard thrust, their bodies seemed to melt into one another.

Keenan watched from behind as Isabella’s body undulated against his when he drove into her hard. The succubus then lowered her head, stuck out that long tongue and began to lick Isabella’s clit as Keenan plunged his cock into her. The entity sucked the tiny bud into her mouth and Isabella bucked violently. For several precious moments, the entity tortured Isabella with her lips as Keenan buried himself inside her. The hot tongue and mouth that occasionally whisked onto his swollen muscle made it jerk inside her. Keenan was ready to burst.

Isabella screamed and ripples of pulsating muscles gripped Keenan’s cock until he lost count. The climax came in great waves of pleasure and Keenan forced his eyes closed to savor it. The waves grew in size and intensity until Keenan’s world shook violently.

* * * *

“Hi.”

The voice echoed against the dream and he snapped awake in an instant to two almond shaped eyes staring down at him. He could just make out his reflection in the warm brown.