Flock

Let the ghost hunt begin.

What in the hell is wrong with you?”

“You,” he darts his tongue out and licks along my bottom lip. My breath catches as he presses his length along my stomach. “You’re what’s wrong with everything and now…” he shakes his head, “you can’t come between us.”

“Oh, but I did come between you,” I snark. “Twice.”

“What?” He gently nudges me from where he rests.

“I don’t like putting a voice to my fears. Because then, I can only expect them to come true.”

“That’s bleak.”