This was a tired, end of day, holiday booze filled edit session. If anything doesn't make sense please let me know so I can fix it! Thanks. Enjoy - Also, heads up, a very M chapter.

Even as the question passed her lips she couldn't believe she was actually asking it. Apparently this so-called spirit couldn't either as the shock was evident on his face, his mouth working like a fish out of water trying to find the words.

"Well? What do you need me to do?" She repeated, as he searched for the words.

"I – I don't know. I honestly hadn't thought that far ahead. I thought you'd freak and I'd be gone again."

She took a deep breath and offered him a tender smile. "First things first," she spoke softly. "Who are you?"

"I'm Dean. I think. I'm not 100% on that. I remember crazy bits and pieces of a life and I have all these names floating around so I'm only guessing but… out of all of them, I feel like Dean."

"What – um…" She had looked away from his eyes momentarily and blushed, seeing her bosom pressed against his hard chest, his hand still cradling the base of her neck. She could feel her heart thumping hard against his thumb as it moved in time with her pulse. "How are you doing this? You're standing in a shower, you look like your clothes are getting soaked, and you feel so warm and hard." Her blush deepened. "To the touch! Hard to the touch, I mean. Solid. Like a… real… person. What I mean is, you say you're a ghost, which I don't really have a choice to believe at the moment, but you're touching me like this. How?"

"I'm uh.. not 100% on that, either. Sorry." A sheepish expression flitted across his face seeming awkward on features that would normally seem so confident.

"Alright. What are you sure of?"

"I know there are inexplicable, supernatural things happening all the time all over the world. I know that I'm currently one of them, dead or not. I know that I only exist when you're around and I can only get through to you like this." His eyes bore into hers in earnest. "I don't know what's going on but… but I know I need your help."

"Is it… I don't know. Unfinished business? That's what they say keeps a spirit around, right? Is there something you feel you need to do or something that happened?"

His face contorted with the effort of sifting through the pieces of memory he had. "Something… I don't know! I feel like there's something right there and I can't get it. Life or death, someone needs to hear but…. ARGH." In a fit of frustration he smacked his hand into the wall, the vibration knocking soap off the shelves. She jumped in shock causing Dean to back off, breaking the connection.

She wanted to scream. Talking to him had been one thing but it hadn't really sunk in until he disappeared before her very eyes. She was jerked from her thoughts by the sudden cold water hitting her, having previously been blocked by the spirits hard, surprisingly warm, body. She quickly turned off the water and bolted from the shower, dressing faster than ever before.

It was something that couldn't be helped but with every tentative step she took her eyes searched every corner. She practically ran into her room and slammed the door shut half expecting him to jump out from under the bed.

She believed in spirits, most definitely, regardless of the fact that never once had she met one before. Or even just seen one from the distance. She'd been known to have feelings however, sensations, whenever she had been in a space with spirits. But that's it. It wasn't like this spirit was particularly terrifying, either. In any other circumstance she would have very likely welcomed him into her shower with open thighs if he had even hinted that he were interested. It was more the idea that she might turn around and find him standing there that freaked her out.

I hate that popping up behind you shit, she thought as her shoulders tensed as if anticipating exactly that. But he did say he couldn't unless he were touching me while I'm…. what. Naked? Lucky me. She chuckled darkly.

She fluffed the pillows against her head board and settled into bed. Pulling out her laptop from the bedside table and dove headlong into finding out what the hell was going on.

She searched, to the best of her abilities, the history of her home, the land, the community but she came up empty on anything that was likely to help. She searched for deaths or recent accidents associated with the name Dean but also found nothing. Floundering quickly she moved on instead to looking up ghost lore, finding her way to Ghost Watchers and their wonderfully informative blog posts and videos on dealing with actual spirits. Yet all the descriptions and even the rather impressive pictures and videos were not even close to comparing to Dean. Maybe he was new? Was that even a thing? New ghosts? Did it make a difference? But all the same there was a tug in her gut that told her this wasn't quite the same thing.

A week had gone by without a sighting. At first she hadn't been too sure she even wanted one. She wore a blanket over her lap when she went to the bathroom and took the fastest showers of her life. A little shaken up by the often violent accounts posted all over the Ghost Watchers web page she circled her bed with a thick line of salt as a safety precaution although there was still that part of her nagging that it wouldn't be of any use You're just wasting perfectly good salt, you nimrod it said repeatedly.

Even though for those first few days she was petrified of him appearing out of thin air she couldn't get his face out of her mind. Those eyes had pierced her and she just couldn't shake it. Remembering the sincerity that shone through as he asked for her help, guilt at her nonsensical fear began to chew away at her. She resumed her lengthy showers and began roaming around the house half naked.

When he still hadn't shown up she started doing her yoga sessions totally in the buff. It wasn't a new thing to her, nude yoga. She had even taught a class once when the instructor on the retreat had fallen ill. This felt incredibly different, however, regardless of the fact that she was technically alone in her own home. she felt like she were in the spotlight. As if eyes were roaming in every intimate crevice at their leisure and she found highly distracting to her session. Not to mention highly arousing.

It was as she lay there, drawing her final meditation to a close, trying to ignore the moisture between her thighs and the ache that had begun to grow during her scintillatingly slow poses, that a realization hit her so hard she couldn't help but gasp. She hadn't merely been naked when Dean had touched her both in her bed and in the shower. She had been on the verge of climax.

If she were honest with herself she could admit that she would have had some serious hesitation had it been anybody else. But she had seen Dean. And beyond that pleading sincerity in his eyes she had felt a spark while looking over his incredibly attractive features; she had felt a fire beneath his hands.

Besides… she reasoned. Who could he tell?

Her shaky hand drew from her an even shakier breath as she touched her already slick folds. The air around her that had started to cool with the end of her workout began to heat up again as she worked her hand around that blissfully sensitive nub. The silence around her was broken only by her increasingly ragged breathing and the sound of her damp skin peeling off the yoga mat beneath her as she arched her back. In her minds eye stood the vision of Dean in the shower, water dripping down his hard features and soft lips, the fire he left on her skin as he trailed his hands down her body, and those eyes… those unforgettable intense eyes that demanded attention, that demanded her release. It was with the thought of Dean that her climax came fast and hard, leaving her panting and dazed, her hand listlessly petting herself down as her hips slowly and leisurely rolled to a stop.

It wasn't until her heart had slowed and her breathing calmed that the aroused fog had lifted from her mind and she realized that, instead of the cool air you'd expect to feel being exposed on an open floor, she felt as if she were blanketed by pure warmth. Slowly, she opened her eyes bracing herself for the face she knew she'd see.

Dean's eyes were hooded with lust and drew up heavy from their lock on her lips; slow in their move to her eyes as if it took every ounce of his will to break off his target. The electricity that passed between them crackled in the air as their eyes met and she flushed. A shudder had wracked her body almost as if on impact of his stare and she had felt with absolute certainty that he was no ordinary ghost. The proof lay there between them, barely contained by its denim confines, rock solid and undeniably present. Nothing ghostly about any single inch that dug into her hip.

"You're definitely no ghost." She said, her voice soft but determined. He didn't answer, his every muscle seemed stiff, his shoulders completely rigid. There was a pause.

"You were watching me." It wasn't a question. She had felt his electric presence and studious gaze, particularly as her lower back had arched and her ass pushed back into Downward Dog. She had practically started panting under his scrutiny.

There was another heavy pause before Dean finally spoke, his every word as rock hard as he was.

"What were you thinking about when you-"

"You." She answered easily. Dean's eyes darkened and a growl came from deep in his throat.

She couldn't explain it and wouldn't even dream of trying. Who, in the history of the planet, would ever try to fuck a ghost? Or even a ghost-like entity? But she had that feeling in her gut, that nagging voice that kept telling her there was more to this than met the eye. It kept telling her to follow that nagging voice. She wanted to follow that instinct and give in to such an absurd and sweet temptation. And so she did.

"Kiss me, Dean." The words had barely been uttered when he eagerly complied. Their lips crashed together and her head immediately began to spin. Deans moan joined her own as he wrapped her legs around his hips and rolled against her, reeling at the sweet friction between them and eager to feel her heat around him.

What transpired between them was not gentle. It was not kind. It was rough and needy and selfish.

He pulled her breast into his mouth and sunk his teeth in, desperate not to break contact as he tore his pants open and down. He quickly centered himself at her opening, ducking his head into the crook of her neck in a move to gain some composure before thrusting into her, deliberate and hard. She muffled her cry into his shoulder as she bit and licked her way up to his ear, sucking hard on the lobe.

It felt surreal, as if on a different plane all together. Their surroundings melted around them. The only thing in existence was the concrete need to counter every thrust and every grind, the look in Dean's eyes as she pulled and teased her breasts, and the overwhelming feeling of taking control. And take control she did.

She flipped them over, slamming Dean onto his back and rubbing against him with a complete lack of shame. She reveled in the feel of him between her thighs and his cock hitting all the right spots. She was so close she was wanton, grinding down on him unapologetically, riding his cock with ultimate fervor. His fingers dug into her thighs and her ass she knew, ghost or not, there would be bruises. It hurt and felt delicious all at once, it drove her wild. He lay there, right on the edge, open and watching her closely as she rode his cock, selfishly taking her climax. She used him, hard and fast, to get to her end and he watched every second of it, basking in the erotic display that danced atop him.

As she came, before she had the chance to come down from her peak or even to slow her stride, he spun her around to face the opposite way. He forced her down onto her hands and knees as he pulled himself up to his knees behind her. Everything that had been pent up watching her strut around naked for days, watching her touch herself, watching her take her pleasure on the end of his cock, he unleashed it on her. Pushing her chest down into the floor, pulling her ass up as high as he could, he fucked her relentlessly. Hard, long strokes, he pounded into her with everything he had until he felt that familiar pull, the hot explosion, and saw lights dance behind his eyelids.