Ghost Kiss

    What Katana remembered was people crowding around her, screaming, then a siren approaching.  Rough hands lifting her and lowering her onto a gurney. A door slamming.  The sensation of movement, then rolling down a hallway, strange white faces looking down at her.  Hands cradling her head.  Then everything went black and a voice said, “We’ve lost her.”
    Now Katana was in Rick’s bedroom. 
    He was sleeping.  Alone.  From the looks of things he was naked.  With one muscular arm flung back over his head and a sheet draped dangerously low around his hips, he was a sight to behold.  Katana’s eyes raked over his strong body, following the trail of coarse hair that led down his belly, disappearing under the sheet.  Oh, how she wanted to slide that sheet off of him.   
    How had she gotten here?  Another flashback.  Walking into Gino’s, a dimly lit Italian restaurant, to meet a friend for dinner.  Sitting on a  barstool, waiting.  Glancing around the room and seeing Rick, the man she adored, having a drink with a beautiful red-haired woman.  Staring.  Watching Rick stroke the woman’s slender hand as he gazed into her eyes.  Pain shooting through her, then bolting for the door, needing fresh air.  Tears streaming down her face.  Rain pouring down.  Tripping, her heel stuck in a loose grate.  Stumbling into the street.  The bus slamming into her, blinding pain, falling into a muddy puddle.
    She watched Rick’s chest rise and fall as he breathed. Transfixed. 
    This was wrong.  She needed to get out of here before Rick woke up.  She tiptoed across the room, trying not to wake him on her way to the door.  Passing a mirror, she glanced at her reflection.  There was nothing there.  Katana moved to the left and then to the right, still there was no image looking back at her.  She reached out and touched the mirror.  She could feel it, solid and cool beneath her fingers.  She looked down at herself, seeing nothing.  What the hell? 
    Puzzled now, Katana ran her fingers over her torso and down her legs.  She, too, was naked.  She could feel her body, soft and warm, but she couldn’t see herself.  Now she was curious.  She reached down to pick up a book of matches lying on the dresser,  she felt its cardboard form but couldn’t lift it.  Strange.  She tried picking up a sheet of paper, she couldn’t grasp it, but it fluttered slightly, as if being blown. 
    She thought again of the words she’d heard, We’ve lost her.  Dear, God, she was dead!  But why was she in Rick’s room?  Was she being allowed to fulfill a last fantasy before going to heaven or hell?
    Katana moved toward the bed.  Would Rick notice her?  Heart pounding, she sat on the mattress.  It didn’t move with her weight.  He wouldn’t know she was here.
    Growing excited at the delicious naughtiness of it all, Katana reached out and touched his chest, placing her palm over his heart, feeling the steady beat.  She’d adored Rick for years, but he’d never returned her amorous feelings.  She’d never gotten a chance to touch him.  By God, she was going to touch him now!
    She inched closer to him, leaning across him, pressing her thigh against his.  He didn’t stir.  She stroked his face, enjoying the sandpaper texture of his cheek.  Breathless, she kissed his cheek, then paused, waiting for a reaction.  Nothing.  She kissed a trail along his face to his mouth, the traced his lips with her tongue.  She sucked his lower lip between hers--he tasted of rum.  Katana licked and nipped at him then kissed her way down his neck to his chest.  She lay her head there and let her fingers play through his dark chest hair.  He smelled warm and masculine and sexy. 
    Katana kissed her way across his chest, gently biting his nipple then continuing her journey down his hard, lean stomach to the top of the sheet.  Would she be able to move it, uncovering him?  She tried, but found she couldn’t grasp it.  She sat back on her heels and looked at him, surely he’d shift positions eventually. 
    That moment came quicker than she expected.  Rick sighed and bent one knee and the sheet slipped lower, exposing him.  Katana stared.  She was in luck.  He was erect.  She let her hands glide over her breasts and down her stomach.  She was wet and ready for him. 
    Katana straddled Rick, the tip of his cock against her.  She shifted position and lowered herself on him, slowly, enjoying the feel of him stretching her, filling her--perfection.  This might have been worth dying for.
    Katana braced her hands on his chest, moving her hips in small circles, grinding her pelvis against his in a rhythmic motion.  Desire welled up inside her and she moved more quickly, pressing harder against him.  She threw her head back, clutched his chest, squeezing him inside her, moving faster and faster, and then an explosion of light as her orgasm came, pleasure too intense to bear washing over her in waves as she rode him.  And then she felt him twitch inside her and he was coming too--a wet dream?--spurting inside her as her spasms subsided.  Oh, God..  She collapsed against his chest, sweaty, breath coming in gasps, reveling in what she’d just experienced.
    As her breathing slowed, a light appeared, growing brighter and whiter.  The time had come for her to go.  “Thank you, Rick,” she said, caressing his cheek with the tips of her fingers.  A lone tear rolled down her cheek. 
    Katana moved slowly off of him, sad at the emptiness she felt as he slid out of her.  They just weren’t meant to be, in life or in death, she supposed.  She moved toward the light, turning back one last time to look at Rick.  “I love you,” she said, then she stepped into the light.