At last, normalcy.
Vic entered not long after, smoothing down his oily hair as he came to a stop at the desk. “’Morning, Ali.”
“’Morning, Vic.”
“So, you and Ghost were snogging at the fuel bowsers, huh?”
Crap on a stick.
~*~
Driving along the road, she couldn’t believe what the time read. Seven freakin’ o’clock. She should have been at Ghost’s house, not driving way out here in the middle of nowhere.
Life was doing its best to bust her arse.
Why the hell had she volunteered to drive Old Man Parker home? It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but she hadn’t realised he’d meant out at his second home, the old shack forty miles out of town.
Geez, why did his car have to break down? Why was she so helpful? She cast a glance at her shoulder bag. Why didn’t she carry her mobile phone? How could she let Ghost know she was going to be late?
Biting her lip, she imagined him storming across to her house, all good and mad and ready to throw her over his shoulder and cart her back to his house, hernia and all.
Okay, the last bit dragged an embarrassed giggle from her, but it still had the power to make a quiver go through her lower belly. He hadn’t really meant it, the laws of physics just didn’t add up to that.
Did they?
She indulged in a little fantasising about being thrown over a brawny shoulder and carted back to the He-Man cave to be thoroughly ravished, and nearly ran off the road as she got dreamier.
Berating herself for a fool, she concentrated on driving. The only thing that would happen would be that he’d be annoyed, she’d apologise and they’d talk, end of story.
Nodding, she tapped her thumbs on the steering wheel in time with the music. Yep, nothing going to happen that wasn’t ordinary.
Damn it.
Idiot.
Blowing out a breath of air, she was relieved when the town lights come into view. As she passed the service station she caught sight of her sister going to the fuel bowsers to fuel up a car. She hooted her horn and looking up, Lori waved.
Okay, so her sister knew not to worry. Time to go home, shower, change and face the lion in his den.
Pulling into the driveway, she didn’t see any sign of Ghost out front of his house. Probably tapping away on his computer upstairs, caught up in some bloodshed and guts of his latest novel. In fact, he’d probably forgotten the time so she was pretty safe. Time had a way of passing him by when he was immersed in a book.
Closing the garage door, she bounded up the veranda steps, unlocked the front door and entered the house. Minx was asleep on the sofa, Lori having fed her before she left, so Ali hurried into the bedroom, tossing her bag on the bed and kicking off her heels before running into the bathroom for a quick shower.
The clock was going on for seven forty five by the time she had locked the front door and rushed down the footpath, her gaze on the ground in case she tripped over on the not-very-well lit path.
Coming through the gate, she almost ran into Ghost.
Surprised, she looked up at him, unable to make out his expression in the darkness even though the street light in front of Matt’s house cast a dim glow. “I’m coming. I’m a little late – awk!”
One second she was looking up at him, the next the world tipped and she found herself – sweet baby Jesus! She gaped down at the footpath from her upside down position over his shoulder.
Chapter 8
This just had to be a dream. A fantasy. A nightmare? Jerking, she grabbed a handful of Ghost’s shirt. “Stop! Let me up!” When he didn’t answer, she gasped out, “Ghost! Put me down before you hurt yourself!”
Silence was the only reply she got and dumbfounded, she watched the weird view of the footpath passing beneath her eyes. She’d certainly never thought to see it from this position.
Even weirder, he didn’t break stride, didn’t stagger, didn’t even pause for breath. By the feel of his brawny shoulder under her belly, he wasn’t even sagging.
Impressive, the logical part of her brain noted.
Also embarrassing. “Ghost, put me down before you give yourself a hernia or someone sees us – ow!”
Holy cow! He’d just spanked her bum! Eyes wide, she stared at the ground. He’d actually smacked her bum with his palm!
It hadn’t hurt, but – holy cow! She wasn’t sure if the pounding of her pulses was from shocked delight or the blood running to her head. Not being overly romantic, it was probably the latter, though the former was truthfully almost neck-and-neck with it.
A dizzying arc as he swung through his gate and all she could do was grip his shirt and lift her head, trying to anxiously scan the street for anyone watching. A flash of light over the road had her groaning.
Bloody Mrs Hubble! Had she seen them? Had she seen Ali arse up over Ghost’s shoulder, her overly generous thighs trapped by Ghost’s arm slung over them?
Oh the shame! Oh the embarrassment! Oh the – wow, he’d actually leaped up the steps onto his veranda without doing in his back. Holy cow once more, how much iron did he lift at the gym?
She didn’t have a chance to think of anything else because they were through his door and without pause he simply kicked the door shut behind him with one sneakered heel. A few more long strides and they were in his lounge, she recognised the carpet from her upside down position. The world went a little haywire as he bent to place her feet on the floor, straightening up while supporting her with both hands on her shoulders.
Sure as heck she needed that support, because the lounge was lurching around a little while she regained her balance. It took a few seconds before she could even focus properly on his face.
And how about that. He wasn’t puffed or red-faced from over-exertion, but still – “You idiot!” She slapped his shoulder. “You could have hurt yourself!”
His answer was straight to the point. Big hands clapped over her cheeks, holding her still as he swooped down and took her mouth in a toe-curling kiss that had her gripping his shirt for balance.
Either she was still dizzy from being upside down or she was having severe reactions to his kisses.
Nope, definitely his kisses, she thought hazily as her blood zinged right through her body.
Ghost kissed like a starving man given his favourite food. Or a thirsting man in the desert given an icy drink. He basically sucked her dry, his tongue sweeping into her mouth to ravage the depths unapologetically.
There was no tender build up, no sweet words.
Not that she could think of anything to say anyway, not when her own libido perked up its head and came roaring full force into creaming attention.
Yep, no doubt about it, her panties were already damp.
Heat curled through her, a matching hunger as she gripped Ghost’s shirt in both fists, pulling him closer.
“Ah God,” he growled into her mouth. “Thought you were never coming.”
“I was.” She kissed him back hungrily, hands jerking his shirt out of his shorts. “I had” – kiss – “to give” – tug, pull – “Old Man Parker” – several seconds to get her tongue back from him – “a lift” – yanking his flannel shirt off his incredible shoulders, why had she never realised they were so big? – “home.”
“You could” – hungry kiss – “have” – big hands undoing the buttons of her dress so impatiently they tore through in several places – “phoned.”
“Didn’t” – hands under his t-shirt – “bring it” – another second to mumble against his lips - “with me.”
Lifting his head, he looked down at her hotly. “You’ll be the death of me.”
In answer she grabbed the back of his head and jerked him down to take his mouth, sweeping inside to taste him, wanting him in every sense of the word. Every taste, every inch of skin, every heated bit that was Ghost.
In the distance she heard something tip and hit the carpet. Ghost crowded her back, her leg bumped something else, th
ere was a splash of water, a clink of a vase and dimly she knew it was on the floor.
Not that she cared. Caught up in the moment, in carnal hunger, she went willingly where he directed her with his body. Not once did he let her go, his hands pulling at her dress, yanking it down over her arms as he pushed her out into the hall.
Just as impatient, she had his t-shirt up, having a short time to appreciate the view of his chest when he lifted his arms and tugged it off over his head. Tossing it aside, he caught her against him by the simple method of hooking his fingers into the front of her bra. The feel of those calloused fingers sliding between her breasts had her gasping his name.
He swallowed every gasp, sucked down every whimpered, longing cry. Demanded more by nipping at her lips before devouring her mouth.
It went so fast, fire blossoming through her body in red heat, a trail of erotic flame wherever he touched. She had no idea where her bra went, only the sensation of his hands cupping her breasts, his palms rubbing against her highly sensitized nipples, massaging them so expertly, so lovingly. So demandingly.
Her fingers found the snap on his jeans and jerked it open, the zipper following quickly. Expecting to feel undies of some sort, she was thrilled to feel instead heated skin. Under the jeans the man was as naked as the day he was born. That was erotic all on its own.
Those calloused hands were now on her bare bottom – God knew when or where she’d lost her panties – his fingers digging in as he kissed her mouth, eating at her, moving backwards and taking her with him.
Caught up in mindless ardour, swept away on a tide of pure concupiscence, Ali didn’t have time to worry about her body, her imperfections, not when the proof of Ghost’s desire for her was pressing a hot, hard brand against her bare stomach.
A gentle but decisive push and she fell back onto a bed, Ghost looming above her, his eyes glittering as he gazed down at her. For several sexually tense seconds he looked down at her hungrily, his nostrils flaring slightly as his gaze swept over her with rapacity.
The tie holding his hair back had disappeared somewhere in their lust filled tug-of-war with each other’s clothes and the thick blonde hair spilled over his shoulders, as tousled as her own hair that had also been yanked free of the pristine bun. Blonde and brown hair entwined as he came down on top of her, taking her mouth once more before kissing and nipping his way down her throat to her shoulders, licking a hot path downwards and further until he latched onto a nipple.
All Ali could do was writhe under him, pushing her breast at him as he sucked her nipple deep into the wet heat of his mouth, tonguing it and drawing, sucking and sucking until she almost screamed his name.
But there was no reprieve when he released her nipple with a last long, lascivious lick. He latched on to her other nipple with equal heat, sucking and drawing until she was sure she was going to explode. Fingers in his hair, she panted and arched up at him, whimpering and moaning her need.
His laugh was low and dark as he came up over her, capturing her hands, linking their fingers and pinning her hands down each side of her head. As he took her mouth, a heavily muscled thigh nudged hers apart. As his tongue speared into her mouth, his shaft invaded the space between the sheltering lips of her labia. The blunt head nudged hungrily at her opening and she bent her knees instinctively, spreading her thighs, allowing him access, crying out when he entered in one hard thrust.
He swallowed it as he’d swallowed almost all her cries, licking and nipping at her mouth, kissing so deeply, mimicking the movements of his shaft as his hips set a punishing pace.
She didn’t know where she finished and he began. He was around her, in her, controlling her, adjusting their position and pace, his mouth on hers, his hair a sweeping curtain that sifted through her own, his chest hard, pecs flexing as he moved above her.
Lifting his head he gave her room to gasp in air, watching her with eyes so dark, almost sinful, the deep brown a hot chocolate as he studied her with lustful steadiness. He took it all in, she knew that. He saw every arch of her throat and back, every gasp, every pant, every expression of carnal desire and pure, craven passion that crossed her face.
She couldn’t hide it from him, didn’t seek to, wanting him to see how everything he did to her body affected her so deliciously, so wantonly.
Fingers gripping his, she lunged up for a kiss. He avoided her mouth, moving fast and smooth, striking at her, his mouth on her throat, teeth nipping, lips scouring a burning trail along her skin. Firm lips fastening on her pulse, sucking lightly, then harder.
Ardour poured through her with intensity, every second bright with crystal clarity one second, then fogged with desire the next. His hard body above her, against her, inside her, tunnelling deep, hips pumping in a hard, rhythmic pace that forced her onwards, carrying her along on a tide of prurience.
Higher he pushed her, harder, faster, until she was sure her heart couldn’t take anymore. It thundered, blood pumping through her veins, every nerve at screaming point, caught up in sensations and heat and carnal appetite.
As she felt herself peaking she flung back her head, arching up, hips meeting him thrust for punishing thrust. The flaring ball of pure ecstasy and screaming sensation flooded through her, surging blazingly, and with a last hard, driving thrust, Ghost threw her out into a shattering of sensations.
Flinging her out so fast that she almost lost herself, screaming his name, the only thing keeping her tied to him that of his hands gripping hers tightly. But then even that thin thread of illusion was broken as he climaxed inside her, shoving in hard and desperately, her name echoing in her ears as she was finally, utterly lost in unbelieving eroticism.
When Ali was finally able to open her eyes it was to find Ghost slumped down atop her, his face pressed into her throat, his silky hair partially covering her face.
Oh sweet baby Jesus, what had just happened? Blinking, she lifted one hand and carefully pulled a thick swath of blonde hair off her face. There was no doubting what had happened or who was above her. A broad shoulder – a naked, broad shoulder – cut off her vision of the room because it loomed over her still. One muscled arm was tucked under her head as Ghost cradled her close to him. His breath was a warm dampness on her throat.
He was still inside her.
That thought had her breath catching.
“Ali?” Her name was a puff of air, and was that his tongue that licked lightly against her throat?
“Um…yes?” She stared up at the ceiling, uncertain what to say. How did she feel? Apart from deliciously ravished, that was? How did one act after something like this?
“You’re thinking too hard.” Another puff of air against her skin, another little flick of his tongue against her neck.
Trying to ignore the little spasm of delight that tonguing gave her, she cleared her throat. “No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.” Ghost lifted off her suddenly, at least the top part, anyway. Propping one elbow near her shoulder, he rested his chin in his palm while pushing the heavy swath of hair back from his face, tossing it almost negligently over his shoulder.
At the sensation of cooler air on her breasts, she realised that she was naked and quickly covered her breasts with her arm while her cheeks turned crimson. Okay, he was on top of her – still inside her, hello! – and she hoped he didn’t move. Ever. Because she was naked and he was perfect and-
One big hand slid beneath a lock of her hair to lift it and tuck it gently behind her ear. “Ali?”
“Yeah?” She still avoided his eyes.
“It’s just me.”
At the gentle words – how could he be so gentle now when he’d been so, well, masterful before? – she glanced back up at him to find him regarding her with soft eyes.
Man, those eyes had been like molten chocolate earlier, now they were all soft like gooey chocolate. Still yummy, only milder. Go figure.
She still wanted to lick him all over.
Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, only to
jump when she felt his hand come to rest on her upper chest, right above her breasts. “Umm…Ghost?”
“Yes, honey?”
Oh man, he’d called her honey so often over the years but now it had the power to feel like thick liquid smoothing through her senses. Soothing and titillating all at once. Or maybe it was the aftermath of an explosive lovemaking that made everything appear so much better.
She’d have smiled if she wasn’t suddenly so embarrassed.
“Okay,” he said, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Did I hurt you?” Concern was in his voice now as his finger traced down her jawline.
Immediately she opened her eyes to reassure him. “No. No, it was…”
He arched one brow.
“Wonderful,” she finished.
“So why are we having this conversation instead of cuddling?”
Cuddling? That sounded nice, but she still couldn’t help but glance away almost shyly. What was wrong with her? Oh yes, wait, she knew. She was dumb enough to be ashamed of her much-less-than-perfect body.
When Ghost said nothing further but just continued to stroke her jawline, she finally sighed and looked back up at him. The gentle understanding in his eyes was almost her undoing. Her bottom lip actually trembled a bit before she could stop it.
“Oh Ali.” He shook his head, his eyes so tender. “Really?”
“Can you blame me?” she managed. “You’re so perfect while I’m so…you know.”
“You think you’re – you know – but I know you’re perfect.” He didn’t stop stroking her jawline.
It was soothing, making her relax, especially when he didn’t shift from her but kept her covered with his own body.
“I’m not.”
“None of us are.”
“Don’t be obtuse.” She took a deep breath, unable to help the pleasure that went through her at the feel of her nipples pressed into his hard pecs. “What could you possibly see in me, Ghost? I’m nasty at times, I’m not the ideal shape, and you could do so much better.”
Call On Me Page 19
