A Lost Kitten by Jessica Kong Page A

Signs Jasira missed, for her eyes were glued to his plush lips. Without hesitating, she opened her mouth above his. Her tongue unhurriedly traced the outline of John’s mouth. Her features grew dreamy. Greedy for more, Jasira plunged deep into a moist cavern where she was met by an eager mate.
    John fought to remain asleep. If this was a dream, he did not want to wake up. He thought of the maiden, Dena. She must have snuck into his room and was trying to seduce him. Her lips were hungry, greedy for his. It was the hottest kiss he had ever experienced.
    Fully awake, John growled into her passionate mouth and eagerly dueled with her seeking tongue. He was right. Dena was well experienced. Her roaming hands started a fire in John that quickly rose in potency. His mouth opened wider. His heart filled with joy at her enthusiastic response.
    John detected a strong vanilla scent. Perhaps it was Dena’s scent after all, and the lilac was from the products she carried with her. He inhaled. The vanilla mingled with a more arousing perfume. John drew both fragrances into his lungs. His soul shivered with excitement, wanting more.
    On a groan, John reached upward, intending to press those delicious lips closer. He jolted when his own hand slapped his face. He sat up in bed; going through Jasira’s bent form. Jasira stood from her seat. She tried to slow down her breathing, as did John as he searched the quiet room.
    Was it a dream? With a confused expression, John fingered his lips. It could not be. The kiss felt unbelievably real. He could still feel those warm, soft lips on his. He sniffed the air. The aroma of vanilla mixed with a woman’s arousal was potent. It caused his soul to quiver with restrained need. He touched his chest. It burned from her explorations. His aroused body longed for more.
    What was going on? How could it have been a dream? None of his dreams were ever that good. A woman must be in his room. John jumped off his bed and looked around. He found no one. He raced to the front door to inspect it. It was locked from the inside, just as he had left it. How was that possible?
    He returned to his bed and sat on the mattress. He thought of the school, of the massage, of the feminine body pressed along his back. Had a ghost followed him to the castle?
    John sniffed the air. The pleasant smells were fading. He shivered. The cold was returning. It helped to tame his throbbing need. He quickly placed another log in the fire and jumped underneath the covers.
    Maybe it was a dream. He sure hoped so. He did not want to believe a female ghost was haunting him. He had dealt with ghosts in the past. None of them were nice. The ghosts were extremely hostile, violent, and deadly. His team suffered severely before they managed to vanquish the ghosts. He hated ghosts and did not trust them.
    John turned onto his side and raised the covers to his nose. Thinking more clearly, he thought of all his ghostly encounters. All the signs were the same. And not. There were auras, like his vanilla scent. When the ghosts appeared, the area became cold, unlike now, when it became warm. Those ghosts tried to kill him. This one erased his stress with a warm massage and made him forget the nightmare he was living with a magical kiss.
    John felt his soul respond to the memory. No! he barked at it. It’s a ghost, not a real woman. I won’t fall for its tricks. It’s up to something. It wants me to lower my guard so it can strike. Well, it won’t work. I’ve dealt with ghosts too many times to fall for it.
    John rubbed his face, feeling temporarily unhinged. What was he thinking? He was allowing his suspicions of Bogdan and Yudit to cloud his judgment. He was, after all, in an old castle. There were probably a dozen secret passageways behind the walls. He must have a secret admirer who snuck in, kissed him, and ran out before he saw her. John inhaled deeply. That was it. No kissing ghost. Just a foolish young girl. And John believed he knew