Quinn loved life. Too bad he's dead. All in all, dying didn't get him down. His death had been the thing of bucket lists. In the middle of screwing a knockout blonde, he'd gone out on top. Literally.
Virginia hates her job as a medium. When Jake, the hot, but geeky guy next door, enlists her help to uncover the truth about a supposed supernatural sex therapist haunting the local hotel, Virginia thinks the stories are nonsense. Egged on by her best friend, Virginia agrees to spend a weekend in the room and learns, not only is it all true, but the ghost is a total hunk who believes only she can help him move on.
Can Virginia help Quinn with his not so little problem and deal with her growing attraction to Jake?
Praise for Haunted
"The story has a fast moving plot that didn’t leave a dull moment. Along with sizzling hot hotel room action I enjoyed this quick read. The author’s plot delivered an interesting story line that was well written and a satisfying read."
-- 4 Stars from Ginger, Long and Short Reviews
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2013 Danni Price
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"So what makes you think this ghost, if there is indeed a ghost, is your friend?" Her rounded backside stuck up in the air as she dug around in the massive overnight bag she'd brought, but he'd hauled up the stairs.
He ran his tongue against the back of his teeth. How could he explain this without making his best friend since elementary school sound like a lech? "Well, the incidents started after he died, and this is where it happened."
"Yeah, but his death, while sudden, wasn't violent. Based on the death certificate, I'd wager he was in a pretty good mood, aside from the whole dying thing."
"I agree, but everything I've read about the nocturnal happenings in this room sounds like Quinn. Believe me, I'm the last person to give stock to supernatural mumbo jumbo. But in this instance, I need to be sure. I owe him that much."
The girl he'd had a crush on for the past five years scowled back at him. The stories surrounding her about Ouija boards and strange occurrences freaked him out, but he couldn't think of anyone else to go to.
He jumped when she snapped her fingers an inch away from his face. "Come on. I need help." A pile of bedding landed in his lap. "Fold that and stick it in the corner. It belongs to the hotel."
"Why did you take this off the bed, and why am I supposed to fold it?" He eyed the bedding with distrust.
"Do you really want to sleep on sheets from a room notorious for people having sex in it? These places don't always clean the bedding."
"Oh, gross!" He leapt out of his seat and kicked the sheets into a corner behind a dented dresser. With one last nudge to force the comforter out of sight, he hurried to help Virginia pull hot pink sheets onto the bed. In an attempt not to imagine them naked on the garish sheets, Jake broached the subject that had plagued him since he'd first entered the room. "I didn't realize there was only one bed."
She retrieved a fluffy, blue blanket from the huge bag that appeared to have no bottom. "That's okay."
His mind raced. What was okay? She couldn't mean what he thought she meant. "I'll sleep on the chair."
She twirled around and scrunched up her face. "Okay."
Damn, he'd made a wrong move, but it was too late to backtrack. "Yeah, it's no big deal."
Her heart-shaped face tilted to the side as she stared back at him. Then she turned away and rifled around in her bag. This time she produced another thinner, yellow blanket and her nightclothes.
Defeated, he accepted the blanket as she strolled into the bathroom. He fell back onto the bed with a groan once the bathroom door clicked shut.
* * *
Quinn lurched into awareness and found himself in the same old room. This time it was dark, almost black, except for a sliver of moonlight snaking through a gap in the curtain.
Coming back to reality was a horrible feeling. It wasn't like waking up with a half-remembered dream to let him know time had passed. No, this was akin to emerging from a gaping void of nothingness.
He groaned as he drifted to the middle of the room. Yet another bout of self-pity was not the way to start this latest period of consciousness.
He surveyed the room. Upon further consideration, tonight was shaping up very nicely indeed. A petite, dark-haired beauty with a slim build lay in the hotel bed. Dressed in nothing more than a silk gown that ended right below her firm ass, she straddled a blanket and fairly hummed with need. A development that warranted his immediate attention.
He walked to the window and mustered enough energy to push aside the curtain a few inches. Silvery moonlight now bathed her entire body. Better and better. She had the kind of tits he liked on a woman. Just enough to bounce while he fucked her.
He drifted to the edge of the bed and sat down, or at least he tricked his mind into thinking so. His body, once so large and strong, left no imprint on the soft bed. Focusing his thoughts on the ends of his fingers, he dragged them from her toes, all the way up to the top of her thighs. Her slight frame shivered when he reached her side.
With a soft sigh, the beauty rolled onto her back, and to his ultimate satisfaction kicked the blanket away. The nightie she wore had buttons, real buttons. Sometimes if he focused he could manipulate small objects beyond a simple push. After ten minutes of staring, three of the rounded buttons popped free.
Impatient, he ran his hands over her chest. His touch, much like a cool breeze, caused her nipples to pebble against the thin fabric. Damn, he wanted to lick her from top to bottom and taste every inch of flesh in-between, but he made do with brushing the fabric of her nightie aside to reveal one dusky peak.
With the tips of his fingers he pinched one nipple while his other hand brushed against her pussy. She gasped. One more time and she arched her back with a little moan. Hands on either side of her, he leaned forward and whispered, "Take it off."
"I can't." She was asleep for the most part, and her response was nothing more than a murmur.
He dragged his body along hers. His forever aching cock passed through the warmth of her pussy, ruffling her nightie. Then, off came the scrap of silk with a breathy please.
His gratification at the sight of the nightie lying on the floor in a crumpled heap died when another man's voice answered her call. "Are you okay, Virginia?"