I giggle as I tug his sweatshirt down over my naked body, bringing the collar to my nose and breathing deep. “I wish I could say the same.”
He arches a brow then grins, pulling on his socks and stepping into his boots. “Have I ruined you, Stevie?”
“Yes.” I laugh as a look of pride crosses Victor’s handsome face. “You were well on your way before last week and after last night…” My cheeks heat but I don’t look away. “And this morning, I just, I—”
“Don’t think you can come without screaming my name at the top of your lungs?”
“Basically.”
My ghost laughs and it makes my heart squeeze. “That might just be the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”
“It’s true, though. Yourthingand your name will forever be synonymous with orgasming.” Then I frown. “Except…”
“Except, what?” Victor stands as he gingerly slips into his jacket, turning to face me with an adorably concerned look. “What’s on your mind, little dove?”
“You told me your last name was Crowley.”
“I did.”
“And you still want me to believe that you coincidentally share the same name as a fictional serial killer?”
“I’m sure it’s happened before.” He shrugs like it isn’t a load of shit but I can see the mischief dancing in his indigo eyes. “There are probably hundreds of Michael Meyers out there somewhere.”
I roll my eyes. “And they probably live next door to Jason Voorhees.”
“On Elm Street. Across from Fred Kruger.”
“You’re impossible, you know that?” I huff. “I get that you have to protect your identity but I know who your alter ego is, and we just shared some really important things with each other. I don’t think it’s unreasonable for you to tell me your real name, especially since you know so much about me and did before we ever slept together.” Why this is bothering me, I’m not sure, but it is and I can’t help but feel like it’s because there’s still a sliver of doubt in the back of my mind that my ghost is using me. I don’t really believe that, but it’s there. Or he’ll get tired of me and stop coming around. And I’ll have absolutely no way of finding him again if he does. “Is Victor even your real first name?”
With a smile that does not match my level of annoyance, the most charming man I have ever met walks over to me, reaches out and takes my chin between his thumb and index finger, titling my head so I’m looking him in the eye. “Yes, Stevie. Victor is my real first name.” My ghost leans down, brushing his grinning lips against mine. “Victor Tobias Crow. Born November 17th almost thirty-two years ago in a small, shitty town in Massachusetts.” Then he gives me a hard kiss followed by a much gentler one. “Happy now?”
“Yes.” I nod, smiling like an idiot as Victor kisses me one more time. “Very happy. I didn’t want that nickname I used to go to waste, especially since I have yet to come up with another one.”
My ghost chuckles as he straightens up. “It won’t, and I expect you to use it often. And very loudly, preferably when I’m balls deep inside that delicious little pussy of yours.” I blush right down to my toes as Victor wags his eyebrows. “I really liked that, a whole hell of a lot.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“I have no doubt.” Victor looks at me for a few seconds, his gaze moving over my face carefully before it slides over his sweatshirt covering the rest of me, and when those intense eyes connect with mine again, what I see causes my breath to hitch. “I’m finding it harder to leave the more time we spend together.”
“Me too,” I squeak out quickly because I was not expecting him to say that.
“I don’t want to go.”
Or that.“I don’t want you to.”
“But I can’t stay.” He sighs as he scrubs a hand over his hair.
“I know.”
“I’ll be back, though.”
I nod my head, my heart racing over the truth in his words. “I’ll be here waiting.”
“Naked?”
Victor grins and I can’t help but laugh. “Probably not, considering the amount of men traipsing around my house, but I’ll compromise by not wearing any panties.”
“I’ll take it,” he growls before moving toward me again, cupping my cheeks and kissing me so hard it steals my breath. “Until tonight, little dove.”
