A Haunted Romance by Sindra van Yssel

sheath. She wanted to feel that heat inside her, to feel his cum jetting into her womb, even though she knew it would be foolish to make love without protection to a man she’d known for only a few days.
    She held him close, pressing her chest against his, feeling the roughness of the wiry hair on his chest against her tender nipples. She kissed his neck, his shoulders, and just behind his ears as he held himself in her, gasping for breath.
    He pulled out of her with a reluctant sigh and rolled the condom off properly. If he hadn’t had that to take care of, he could have held her as he softened inside her, she thought. That would have been wonderful.
    “Would you like me to stay the night?” he asked. “I’m a little concerned about the moaning, the door, some of the things going on around here.”
    Chelsea hoped that wasn’t his only reason. She could think of nothing she’d like better, but it probably wasn’t safe for her to be around him until her lust for him had settled down a little. Besides, she had plans. “I was planning to go back to Falls Church tonight, so I’ll be okay, thanks.”
    He let his disappointment show for only a moment. “You’ll be safer yet there,” he said agreeably.
    “Maybe when I get back sometime?” Her heart beat a little faster.
    Trent smiled. “I’ll take a rain check, sure.”
    Had the ghost been watching them make love? The idea brought a blush to her face. There’s no such thing as ghosts . She couldn’t imagine watching people have sex without even having a body to respond to it with. That would make her want to slam the door too. But it was probably just weighted funny, and they’d jostled it when they entered, starting a process where it slowly gathered steam until eventually it closed quite hard. It didn’t quite fit, but it was more sensible than believing a ghost had done it.

Chapter Five
     
    Chelsea grabbed the last few things she need for the trip. Trent had just pulled out of the driveway. She took the can of cola from the fridge—the lure of sugar was too much—and put it on the floor next to her desk. She wanted a coaster before putting it on the old desk. It still didn’t feel enough like it was hers to be putting stains on it.
    She packed up her laptop in its case and slung it over her shoulder, reaching down to pick up the can again. She noticed the envelope that had come in the morning’s mail a few inches away and picked that up instead. In her condo, the area around her desk had become cluttered with papers, and she hoped to avoid that in the new place, although she suspected it was a futile fight. She could at least put off succumbing as long as possible. She slit open the envelope with a fingernail and pulled out its contents.
    To her surprise, it wasn’t a form letter; it was addressed to her specifically. She read through it and then put it down on top of the desk. Five hundred thousand dollars. She could sell this property, take the money, pay off the rest of her condo, and still have plenty left over. She had no idea the place was worth so much. Apparently some developers wanted to build something or other, and the money was contingent on one of the neighbors selling too. Trent or Dalton; either one would do.
    She could be free of the moaning and the door creaking, the strange screechings and mysterious keys. But she’d wonder about the house forever and whether it was really haunted or not. She set the letter on the table. Maybe she’d look at it again in a few days.
    * * *
    It was six o’clock the next evening when Chelsea got back to the house. Rush hour started earlier than she’d expected it to; it had been years since she’d had to commute to work, and in the meantime, Washington traffic had gotten worse. Even though she left shortly after two, traffic on 66 had been a mess for miles.
    Thank goodness the weather had held. It was nippy but not icy, and she didn’t have to get the chains out in the dark. She carted her boxes