The Ghostwriter

By Joylynn M. Jossel

Although Rhain Garrett's daily nine to five pays for her necessities in life, her nightly devotion and knack for the written word is her passion. For extra money on the side and to feed her literary desires, Rhain takes other people's thoughts and translates them into sentimental keepsakes. What seems like an uneventful life for Rhain al

• Language: English
• Publisher: End of the Rainbow Projects
• Release date: Apr 20, 2016
• ISBN: 9781310158193

Joylynn M. Jossel

Joylynn M. Jossel, the Essence bestselling author of Dollar Bill, When Souls Mate, The Root of All Evil, and If I Ruled the World, is a graduate of Columbus State Community College, where she received her associate's degree, and Capital University, where she received her bachelor's degree. She is a native of Columbus, Ohio but now resides in Las Vegas, Nevada with her family.

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The Ghostwriter

A sensual novella

By Joylynn M. Jossel

Published by End of the Rainbow Projects

P.O. Bo 128

Reynoldsburg, OH 43068

End of the Rainbow Projects ©2016

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without prior consent of the publisher, except for brief quotes used in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. Any reference or similarities to actual events, real people, living or dead, or to real locales are intended to give the novel a sense of reality. Any similarity in other name, characters, places and incidents is entirely coincidental.

Chapter I

Beautiful One

Mr. Irving, you have a call on line one, Rhain said through the intercom on her desk that she used to communicate with Mr. Irving from 8:00 A.M. through 5:00 P.M. Monday through Friday.

Thank you, sweetheart. Put it through, Mr. Irving replied.

Rhain put the call through, rolling her eyes up in her head. She hated when her boss called her sweetheart but never verbally expressed her dislike for it. For seven years he had been calling her sweetheart, and for seven years she had detested it, but in order to keep the peace, and her job, she said nothing.

Even as a little girl, Rhain was always a peacekeeper. She never liked to make waves. Making waves brought attention, and the last thing she wanted was attention. She felt that the more attention people would pay her, the more they would notice her. The more people noticed her, the more people would be able to detect her flaws—her flaws that she was so very insecure about.

Rhain was twenty-five years old and had never experienced intimacy with a man, or even the mere companionship of a boyfriend, because she was too busy keeping the world at bay. If anyone got close to her, they'd notice the slight acne problem she had been battling ever since her teenage years. She gave up soda pop and chocolate bars, thanks to the myth that those were the things that caused pimples. But in all actuality, the bumps came from the stress of her worrying about her so-called imperfections. One of which was her lazy left eye. It was hardly noticeable, and she could probably correct it herself by wearing a patch over her right eye to strengthen and train the left one. But even if she were to correct it, there was always that gap between her two front teeth that prevented her from engaging in open-mouthed smiles. Thank goodness for the acting community and the lovely actress Lauren Hutton, who never let something like a gap between her teeth stop her from getting in front of the camera. Instead of just looking at these things as unique individual trademarks, Rhain chose to round them all up into a huge pile of shortcomings.

Rhain, sweetheart, before you go, can you bring me the Coleman file? Mr. Irving said through the intercom after he had ended his call.

Certainly, Rhain said as she shut her computer down and then headed over to the file cabinet. She grabbed her sweater from the back of her chair, put it on, and then headed into her boss's office.

She always made it a point to wear a sweater whenever she went into his office. It was guaranteed to be freezing cold in there, something Rhain concluded that her boss was doing deliberately. She felt that he kept the temperature down so that every time she entered his office he could watch her soft brown nipples grow into chocolate fudge pops as they hardened from the coldness.

Now I got something for that ass, she thought as she closed her sweater and folded her arms in front of her.

Here you are, Mr. Irving, Rhain said as she walked into his office and handed him the file. Is there anything else you need before I go?

Mr. Irving paused and then gave Rhain the look. A look that replaced the words, that if he had dared spoken, would have landed him a sexual harassment charge.

Yes, there's something else, she imagined him saying. How about a cup of coffee and a blow job?

Dirty old pervert, Rhain thought to herself. Men and what they'll stick their dicks into. I'm the least attractive girl working for this company, yet that makes no never mind to his horny ass at all. Sad.

Can you think of anything else? was Mr. Irving's reply to Rhain's query as he licked his lips and stared at her with those googley brown eyes of his.

He wasn't bad-looking for a man in his late forties; well, not to a woman in her late forties anyway. His chiseled brown skin, full beard, and mustache were very becoming. The fact that he used the company gym every morning before clocking in did wonders for his well-cut physique, that and the fact that he got a great workout after business hours doing push-ups with Evelyn, the new receptionist.

It was just last week when Rhain realized, while in the grocery store line, that she had left her wallet in her desk and had to go back to the office after hours to get it. Once she arrived at her desk, she could hear the moaning, groaning, humping, and bumping through the closed office door. She learned that Mr. Irving loved being called Daddy during sex because every time Evelyn shouted out the word, the clapping of their skin got faster and harder. It was when Evelyn first called out the word Daddy that Rhain was able to recognize her voice.

After grabbing her wallet, she wanted to just head back out the door and go claim her merchandise that the clerk had bagged and set aside for her at the counter, but curiosity got the best of her. Tip-toeing over to Mr. Irving's door, Rhain placed her ear against it and listened.

Oh, Mr. Irving, Evelyn called out. Fuck me just like that, Daddy.

Mmm, you like it from the back, huh, my sweet Evey? Mr. Irving said as he dipped his forty-something-year-old hard dick into Evelyn's twenty-one-year-old pussy.

You know I do, she answered. Now make it cum. Make it cum for me, Daddy.

Oh shit, Mr. Irving yelled out as he began thrusting faster and harder into Evelyn. Oh, look what this young, tight pussy is about to make me do. Oh shit, I'm about to fuckin' bust!

Oh, uhh, ahh, yes, yes, yesssssssss! Evelyn roared.

Rhain stood at the door trembling, with her clit tingling, squirming in her panties.

Oh God, she whispered under her breath as the intensity of their sex had her hot and bothered. She swallowed hard, placed her wallet under her armpit, and hurried off to her car. Once inside, she threw her wallet into the passenger seat, looked around to make sure no one else was in sight, and then quickly placed her hand down her pants.

Oh, uh, uh, uh, uh, she moaned as she allowed her index finger to quickly rub back and forth over her thick throbbing clitoris. It didn't even take one minute for Rhain to make herself cum in her panties. Who knew that just listening to Mr. Irving and Evelyn have sex would have that type of effect on her?

Initially, Rhain had assumed that it was Kenya, the input clerk, he was screwing, considering she was the one he was getting free feels from under the table at their last departmental lunch. All Rhain knew was that no way was she going to become another notch on the belt of the president of the claims department of Heigan National Insurance.

As a matter of fact, I can think of something else I could do for you, Mr. Irving, Rhain said, looking over the rims of her brown-framed Essence eyeglasses. "Valentine's Day is right around the corner, a little less than a month away. It will sneak right up on you before you know it. Would you like me to pick up something for Mrs. Irving?" Rhain said with a subtle smirk. Whenever she made mention of his wife in the premature stages of his sexual innuendos, that always seemed to make his horniness go down…and his dick.

Why he chose to cheat on Mrs. Irving was beyond Rhain. His wife wasn't a bad-looking woman at all. Word was that he had met her in a strip club twenty years ago, where she used to dance to make money to survive. So Rhain knew this woman had to recall some of her old moves that she could utilize in the bed to keep her man happy. But men like Mr. Irving were one of the reasons why Rhain was still a virgin. Dogs, she would think. They're all dogs, and if they think they're going to be wagging their tails all up in my cat, only to run off with the next kitty, they are sadly mistaken. Meow!

Uh, yeah, well, uh, that would be nice, Mr. Irving stammered. Valentine's gift, yeah. Perhaps you should pick one up.

Very well. You have a good evening, sir, Rhain said as she headed out of his office.

You do the same. He sounded defeated.

Rhain couldn't help but grin as she grabbed her coat and purse and headed to her car. After looking in the rearview mirror and patting down her reddish-brown hair that was neatly concealed in a tight bun, Rhain started up her five-year-old Toyota Camry and headed for home.

On the way, Rhain made her customary stop at Carlos' Place for her usual, a Cobb salad with extra- grilled chicken. Rhain typically ate out more than she ate at home. For single people, it was sometimes cheaper eating out than cooking up a meal and wasting the majority of it because there was no one else in the house to partake in it. And it never took long for her to get burnt out on the boxed or frozen dinners that filled her cupboards and freezer. So, since Carlos' was right around the corner from her apartment, it quickly became her favorite place to get takeout. It was a restaurant/bar and one of the most popular joints in Bexley, a suburb of Columbus, Ohio. They had the best happy-hour prices in town. If Rhain had been a drinker, she might have ordered one of their famous half-priced margaritas to down while she waited on her order, but instead she sipped on her usual cherry Coke.

It was Friday