Page 70 of Hot Ghost Summer

I grind the back of my head down into the ground and groan. “Ugh, that’s not what I meant.”

He turns to face me and pushes his fractured glasses higher up his nose with a single finger. “I know. But we can’t do that again.”

My head jerks up sharply. “Why?”

“We’re not talking about that either.”

I can’t help it; I pout. Why’s he have to be such a Dom all the time? It’s okay to just be a man with needs sometimes.

“We’re going back to work… come on.”

“Nope.”

“No?”

“No.” I pat the ground around me for my cap and balance it over my eyes.

“Now who’s being grumpy?”

“I’m not grumpy. Bridge just saw her first ghost, and I want t’ make sure she’s okay. You can go back t’ work, though.”

Hollis is quiet again. Pensive. “I can’t get out of this field unless you walk me closer to something electrical.”

“You can.”

“Theo…”

“What? Mostly you turn corporeal when you have strong emotions—which you have a lot of, by the way—so I reckon being super horny for your job should do it.”

“Theo.”

“What? I might have a nap; lost a lot o’ sleep lately.”

The steady, hypnotic rhythm of Brigid’s chewing lulls me, and her low, rumbling hum vibrates in the warm air. I focus on the faint, cooling breeze that brushes my exposed skin.

“Are you asleep?” Hollis eventually whispers.

“Resting my eyes,” I confirm. “Can’t sleep in case the goats come back. Theodore hates me after poolnoodlegate.”

“What?”

“No, not asleep.”

The softest groan precedes Hollis’s, “Keep your eyes closed.”

Like some kind of Pavlovian dog, my dick gets hard. “I’m not very good at doing what I’m told.”

“I’ve noticed. But if you open them, I’ll stop.”

That tone. Ugh. My heart accelerates so fast there’s a moment where I’m genuinely worried it might burst out of my ribs, and then Hollis’s cool weight straddles my chest and locks it safely in place.

His cold fingertips don’t just bring relief on a humid morning, they stalk up my chest with predatory intent. His touch is becoming addictive.

He applies a firm pressure to the base of my throat and rasps, “Feel that?”

I swallow.

“That’s me in control.”