Page 150 of Love at First Fright

I ignored him, rooting frantically through my rucksack instead. Where was my toiletry bag? Had to be in here somewhere. My hands shook as I dug past spare pants and crumpled T‑shirts.

There. At the very bottom, squashed beneath everything else.

I pulled out a tube of lube so battered it looked like it had survived a small war—half the lid was snapped off, the container horribly sticky.

“Lovely,” I muttered, holding up the sorry excuse for lubricant.

Bat’s eyebrows shot up. “Well, aren’t you prepared.”

“Don’t get too excited. It’s almost older than you are. I obviously don’t have condoms, but—”

“Oh, I’m definitely getting you pregnant tonight,” Bat interrupted, his grin turning wicked. He brought his hand to his cock, taking it in hand whilst his eyes remained glued to me. “Gonna pump you so full of my ectospunk you’ll have twelve ghost babies.”

My knees nearly buckled. Jesus, he had a mouth on him.

“God, yes. Breed me.” The words tumbled out before I could stop them.

Bat’s hand stilled. “…What?”

“What?”

“Breed you?” His nose wrinkled.

Heat shot to my cheeks. “It’s—never mind. It’s a sex thing.”

“A sex thing.”

“From this decade, apparently. Forget I said anything.”

“No, no—I’m filing this away for later mockery.” His smile turned filthy again. “You kinky thing.”

I crossed the room on unsteady legs, blood rushing through my ears, heart hammering almost painfully. This was insane. I was about to have sex with a ghost. Pretty sure that this was strongly advised against in the ExorSquad handbook.

I collapsed onto the narrow single bed, the springy mattress dipping under my weight.

“I… haven’t had sex in a while,” I whispered, as if it were some shameful secret.

Bat’s forehead crinkled. “And who do you think I’ve been fucking for the last few decades? Lady G?”

I hooked my finger under Bat’s thin leather collar, dragging his mouth to mine.

The kiss was desperate, all tongue and teeth and barely restrained hunger. He tasted like nothing and everything, like the memory of cigarettes under starry skies and the ghost of mint.

I pulled back just enough to speak, my mouth brushing his soft, cool lips. “Now breed me like you promised.”

I pressed the tube into Bat’s palm. Climbed onto my hands and knees as he shifted down the mattress. The single bed barely contained us—my knees jutted past the edges, precarious, like I might topple sideways at any moment.

“Christ, this bed’s tiny.”

“Good thing I don’t take up much space.”

His mouth found my hip bone. Lips dragging across the jutting ridge, soft then sharp—teeth scraping skin. My spine curved without permission, body chasing his touch as he worked across to my other hip. Lower.

He kissed the flesh of my butt. Alternated between gentle and vicious—little bites that punched gasps from my throat. Each one a live wire straight to my cock, hanging heavy and wanting between my thighs.

I braced for the chill of the lube. That familiar clinical slide, fingers working me open.

Instead—something else. Still cold, very cold, but not liquid.