Phantom Affair

An Ellora’s Cave Romantica
Publication

www.ellorascave.com

Phantom Affair

ISBN 9781419923067

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Phantom Affair Copyright © 2009 Katherine Kingston

Edited by Briana St. James

Cover art by Syneca

Electronic book Publication July 2009

The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of
Ellora’s Cave Publishing.

With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not
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permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home
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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons,
living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The
characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

Dedication

This story is lovingly
dedicated to the memory of a lovely young lady.

Lara Anne Punches

10/4/1989 to
2/12/2009

You touched the
hearts of more people in your short nineteen years on earth than you could have
ever imagined possible.

One of the few drawbacks to having a ghost for a lover was
the lack of a martini waiting for her when she got home after a rough trip into
the city. Oh, and the back rubs lacked a certain heft. Still, Robert managed to
make her feel amazingly wonderful for someone whose spirit was willing but the
flesh nonexistent.

Kelly Scranton could fix the martini herself. And unlike
most of the men she’d dated, Robert was always willing to listen to her gripes,
and he generally commiserated. In fact he seemed to crave her tales of woe from
the trenches of the architectural world, or any other world. Being limited to
the house made him hungry for any and all information from outside, which was
why she generally left either the television or a radio going even when she
wasn’t there.

Her nineteenth-century mansion on the Virginia side of the
Chesapeake Bay coast was almost two hours’ drive from D.C., so Kelly generally
spent a couple of days in town at a time, meeting with clients and other
business contacts before returning home where she could do much of the drawing
in peace and conduct the rest of her business via phone.

That particular Thursday she’d been gone for three days,
working on a large collaborative project. By the time she got back at eight in
the evening, she was beat. She’d had dinner before she left the city but she
headed for the kitchen right after dumping her briefcase and stepping out of
her pumps. That martini was calling her name.

Robert was too, materializing beside her while she got out
the bottles and filled the shaker with ice. It no longer startled her. His form
was never fully solid, which made it hard to get a perfect idea what he looked
like. She could tell he had a lean, handsome face with strong jaw and
cheekbones and sensual lips, but it was especially hard to see his eye and hair
color. Both seemed to be light. Otherwise, he’d been a tall man in life, but
thin. He looked to be in his mid-twenties, which made sense since he thought
he’d been about twenty-five when he died. He didn’t like to talk about it, but
he had one time admitted that he’d been hanged in 1706. He wouldn’t discuss the
reason. Nothing she’d learned of him in the three years since she’d bought the
house—and his company along with it—suggested he was a bad or violent man, so
his fate mystified her.

He must have some way to change his clothes, or maybe just
his appearance, since his dress didn’t reflect a man who’d lived in the late
seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries. He usually appeared to be wearing a
polo shirt and slacks.

“Rough trip?” he asked, staring at her as she measured out
the vermouth. “Took longer than usual and you look beat.”

“Busy. Lots of negotiations, a zillion details to hammer
out. And I had to wear heels for three solid days.”

“Poor baby.” An intriguing hint of British accent underlay
the slang he’d picked up from the TV. “Go put your feet up and I’ll rub them
while you tell me about it.”

That was an offer she never refused.

Kelly finished putting together the double martini and took
it to the living room. She settled into the reclining end of the leather sofa
with a sigh of relief, letting the quiet, homey atmosphere she’d created sink
into her tired bones. A puff of warm air surrounded each of her feet after she
raised the footrest. The air began to move around, pressing against her flesh.

She had no idea how he did that. Another of the drawbacks of
a ghostly lover was his inability to touch her, but Robert had figured out how
to use puffs of compressed air to substitute for it. He admitted it had taken
him years of practice to learn and master the technique. Kelly refused to ask
how many women had gotten similar attentions from him. He admitted there’d been
a couple, though he claimed he first developed the method to use for turning
the pages of books.

“Tell me what’s happened the last few days,” Robert said,
his half-visible form kneeling beside the chair. It appeared his hands were
around her feet, though he couldn’t truly touch her. Still, the air shifted
around her toes, stroking them gently but firmly.

“Damn, that feels good.” Kelly settled deeper into the
chair. The air pressed and rubbed in a way that air shouldn’t be able to do,
but she wasn’t arguing. “This project is turning out to be a bear,” she told
him. He kept “rubbing” her feet while she poured out all that had happened in
the past couple of days, venting all the aggravations and irritations. Getting
it out always made her feel lighter.

Because she had a lot to get off her chest, it took a while
to notice something different. “You’re very quiet,” she said to Robert. Normally,
he responded enthusiastically to her tales, asking thoughtful questions,
demanding details and reassuring her where he felt it was needed. “Is something
wrong?”

“No, not wrong. I have something to discuss with you but not
right now. A little later.”

She stared at him for a moment but could read little in the
shadowy face. He never had worn his emotions openly. “All right.”

“We have other things to do first.”

The stroking moved up from her feet, along her calves and
onto her thighs, pushing below her skirt. It didn’t feel exactly like a human
touch but it was close enough for each brush of air on sensitive skin to send
those prickly tingles running along her nerves and rousing desire for more. She
imagined Robert’s fingers doing that march along her skin and got even hotter.

“Take off your blouse and the bra for me,” he said. He
turned one part of his limitation into a virtue, by ordering her to do the
things he couldn’t. She’d read about it, but until now she’d never understood
on a personal level how sexy it would be to take off her clothes at the command
of a dominant man. Even if said dominant wasn’t entirely solid.

As soon as she’d shed the shirt and bra and settled back
down, another set of air puffs began circling her breasts. Add to the ghost lover’s
pro list that he wasn’t apparently limited to two hands’ worth of air. There
were still swirly bits running up and down her legs as well.

On the con side, it lacked the rich texture of human touch.
But it was firm enough to be convincing and still had the effect of making her
jolt and groan when it brushed over her nipples and pressed down on them. She
thought about Robert while the air caressed her and tried to picture him in her
mind, lying beside her, leaning over, his hands exploring her body just as the
air did now.

“I don’t know how you do it,” Kelly said through gritted
teeth, “but you’re good.”

“Guy’s gotta have a few secrets.” Robert’s tone held an edge
of laughter.

“You’ve got plenty already…” The words ended in a groan as
he did something that made her nipples ache with delight. The thrill zinged
straight to her pussy, which swelled and grew damp.

“Take off the skirt.” That slight British intonation lent a
shivery sort of authority to the words. She lowered the zipper and wriggled out
of the garment, while he continued to caress her breasts. Little lightning
bolts of pleasure zapped her nipples, drawing moans and groans from her.

“You’re beautiful, you know,” he said. “I love that I can
give you pleasure like this. I love watching you.”

She wished she could touch him the same way, give him the
same pleasure, but the one time she’d mentioned it to him he grew silent and
retreated, so she didn’t bring it up now. He had told her he got a thrill from
seeing her ecstasy.

Once she’d dispensed with the skirt, he directed the air to
work down her belly and into her slit, teasing at it through the silken panties
that were all she still wore. Gentle strokes grew gradually firmer and harder
until she was wriggling on the leather surface and begging for him to go
faster. Need expanded inside her like a magma chamber beneath a volcano,
demanding release.

She was all but sobbing when the air suddenly went away.

“Take off the panties, then go get the vibrator,” he said.
“You’re getting the full-on thing this time.”

Her legs shook as she stood, slid the undergarment off and
went to get the machine out of the drawer. Fortunately she’d put fresh
batteries in it the week before. She took it back to the living room and
sprawled on the couch, spreading her legs to insert it.

Robert stopped her. “Not quite yet. I’ll tell you when.”

“Not long, please.” She hated begging, even in these
circumstances. She loved his dominance. She wondered what would happen if she
defied him. Could he manage to spank her with air?

“Wait until I say you can,” he ordered.

The puffs of air began their assault on her again,
multitudes of them stroking her everywhere, from her cheeks and throat down to
her toes. Her nipples tingled as the air rushed around them. It brushed along
her thighs too, sending hot rivers of need coursing through her. Pressure built
deep inside until she thought she’d burst from it. She moaned, “Robert,”
picturing him stroking her with rough fingers, smiling as he enjoyed her
response. Velvet-soft ripples surged against her clit, making it swell and
throb. Her breath ratcheted up to a full pant and every muscle in her body
tightened as the pressure built.

“Now put the vibrator in and turn it on,” Robert said.

Gasping with desire, Kelly did as he ordered. She could
almost see him as a real, solid man, his hands caressing her and his cock
filling her. The vibrator was his shaft throbbing inside her. She pulled it out
and pressed it back in repeatedly—the way his real, hard shaft would piston in
and out—and watched his ghostly face. A hint of a smile touched his features.

It was like putting a match to a pile of kindling. After
just a few moments of the vibrator throbbing in her pussy and the air
assaulting every sensitive spot on her body, she erupted in a long series of
jerks and spasms.

It took a while to come down from that high. For long
minutes she lay sprawled on the couch, though she pulled out the vibrator and
shut it off. The air movements changed from provoking strokes on sensitive
places to comforting brushes over her hair and cheeks. His tenderness brought a
painful twist around her heart.

“Wow,” she said. “That was amazing. What you do is amazing.
I wish—”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Not nothing,” he said. “Just something you’re uncomfortable
telling me. No?”

“Yes.”

“One of the many things I admire about you is your honesty.”

She sat up and pulled an afghan from the other end of the
couch to cover herself. She couldn’t hold a serious conversation when she was
nude and the other guy wasn’t—even if he was a ghost. “That’s a bit of a low
blow.”

“When you were trying to spare me,” he finished.

“Well, yeah.”

“Please, tell me. It’s important.”

Kelly sighed and pulled the blanket tighter around her.
“Okay. I was wishing I could touch you and could give you the same pleasure you
give me.”

“You do give me great pleasure. You know that, don’t you,
Kelly?”

She strained to see his face. His tone was very serious but
as usual his expression told her little.

“I hope I do,” she answered.

“You do. Meeting you, getting to know you, sharing this love
with you has been the most wonderful experience of my life—and my afterlife.”
He let out a harsh laugh. “I know you’ll say you’re the only woman I’ve ever
had a chance to do this with, but that’s not entirely true. There have been a
few others over the years, but none were anything like you, in looks or
personality or character. And I’ve watched television since the first one
showed up here, so I’ve seen a lot of women on it. I know what an extraordinary
and special person you are.” He sighed heavily. “You deserve better than this.
An affair with a man who can’t touch you or hold you, who can’t take you out to
dinner or the movies, who can’t give you a family. What kind of life is that?”

“Are you trying to dump me?” Kelly asked. “How does that
work? I’m not about to leave. Are you?”

“That’s not where I’m going.” Robert was silent for a
moment. His form sort of shimmered, expanded and then settled back down. “I
love you. I’ve never even imagined saying that to a woman before, never
imagined it was possible for me to feel that kind of emotion. But there it is.”

“I think I love you too, Robert, but it seems weird. I don’t
know how I can be in love with a ghost.”

“I’m still a person too. At least part of a person. And
here’s where I’m going with this. I want to be a whole person again. Alive in
every sense. Able to hold you and touch you. Make love with you with my body as
well as my mind. Maybe even, God willing, have a family with you.”

Kelly didn’t know what to make of that. “You— You’re talking
like that’s somehow possible.”

“Would you be interested, if it were?” he asked.

She didn’t have to think about that one long. It had filled
her thoughts on more than one wakeful night. “Damn sure I would. I’ve never met
a man like you before and probably never will again. But is it possible?”

“It might be. It’s up to you whether to try it, though. It
would be hard.”

“Is this some kind of black magical reincarnation thing?”

He jumped and sounded shocked. “No. Definitely not. It’s
more a sort of recompense from the guys on high. It’s only possible because I
was executed unjustly, for a crime I didn’t commit. I have one opportunity for
a second chance. I must submit myself for judgment by one human who must be
accepted by the committee as a judge and then has the responsibility to decide
whether or not I deserve another chance. But before she decides, she’ll be
given the opportunity to learn my history and what’s inside me in order to
judge as accurately as possible. I’ve never before met anyone I trusted enough
to put my fate in their hands that way.”