Ain't Misbehaving (19 page)

She frowned over her shoulder. “Did you just lick me?”

“I did. Should I do it again?”

“Well, it wasn’t horrible. The licking, I mean. The spanking—”

“I told you I’d spank you.” He turned her on his lap until he cradled her in his arms. “It’s important to carry through on threats. Some women enjoy being spanked.” His eyes danced with amusement, making her realize that compared to him she lacked experience.

An inelegant snort erupted from her. “The jury is out on spanking.” Yet despite the crack of pain, he hadn’t hurt her and now an insistent ache filled her sex. She raised her head, silently requesting a kiss, and he obliged. Her heart soared as their tongues tangled and his hand smoothed over her naked back.

Still kissing her, he lifted her and set her on the bed, following her down.

“Damn,” he muttered. “Let me get some condoms before we get comfortable.”

She glanced down at her naked body. “I’d say we’re pretty comfortable already.”

He rolled to his feet and crouched by his bag, returning in seconds. “All set. Now where were we?”

“We’ve done the spanking part already,” she said hurriedly. “You need to start at the kissing stage. You’re good at that.”

The corners of his eyes crinkled, and his chuckle emerged laced with sin. With one quick move, he loomed over her, his arms holding his weight. Unafraid, she scanned his face, his chest, committing his body to memory.

“You should go without clothes more often.” Charlotte lifted her hand and ran it across one pectoral muscle.

“You make me laugh. I liked that about you from the moment we met.” Then before she could reply, he kissed her with rough abandon. His hands shaped her breasts, rolling one of her nipples between finger and thumb.

She tore her mouth away from his, gasping, arching her body against his in a demand for more. “Please,” she whispered, reinforcing her actions with words. The ache between her legs was growing more insistent, and she wriggled beneath him, attempting to guide his cock right where she wanted it.

Instead, he moved down the bed, the wet pull of his mouth at her breast distracting her.

“That feels good, Ash.” An understatement. Each touch pushed a wave of warmth into the hollow of emptiness inside her. He made her feel special, important. He made her feel wanted. Needed even. And his touch. She hadn’t realized how much her spirit had craved physical contact with another person.

He lifted his head with a faint pop as he released her nipple. His eyes were dark, his jaw shaded with stubble. Unable to help herself, she reached out in return, her trembling fingers smoothing across his cheek.

“You’re going to spoil me for other men,” she murmured.

His gaze narrowed, his body going taut. “I thought you liked me.”

“I do.” She patted his cheek again, testing the stubble beneath the pads of her fingertips. “But you’ll get tired of me. Don’t worry. I’m not going to get clingy. We’re just having fun. I know that.”

“You talk too much,” he snapped, and stymied any hope of further discussion with his mouth. His lovemaking took on a harder edge, but she gloried in his expertise. His hands forced hers to the mattress and stopped her from touching or responding to his strokes.

They were both breathing hard when Ash reached for a condom. He made quick work of rolling the latex along his shaft and pushing strongly into her. Charlotte gripped his shoulders and cried out as he set up a rapid rhythm of thrust and withdraw. Each surge pushed at her, tossed her into a sea of pleasure, his grip holding her safe until a final hard stroke brushed her clit at the perfect angle. She cried out, shattering under his touch, her climax pulsing for ages until she drifted back down.

Above her, Ash tempered his thrusts until she recovered. With pleasure lapping her senses, all she could think was how lucky she was to have met him at a time when she needed to find herself again.

Ash started to move faster, buffeting her body with his controlled strength. His mouth closed over hers, and he drank in her cry when another series of spasms struck her out of the blue. A long, masculine groan filled the room, and he stilled, eyes closed, his face contorted in a mask of pleasure.

Long seconds later, his eyes popped open, and they stared at each other. He smiled, smoothing the hair off her face. “That was worth waiting for.”

She grinned up and him, and he kissed her tenderly before pulling out of her and disposing of the condom. He pressed his lips to her cheek, the corners of his eyes crinkling in silent humor when she yawned. “Why don’t you have a snooze?”

Without waiting for her agreement, he swept back the bed covers and lifted her. He whipped the duvet over her, kissed her cheek again and said, “I need to make a couple of phone calls. Sleep because I intend to keep you awake late into the night.”

* * * * *

On Saturday, they left the villa and drove to the property owned by Ash’s client on the outskirts of Clare. As they rounded the corner and the house came into view, a gasp escaped her. “It’s beautiful.” She stared wide-eyed at the mansion nestled at the foot of a hill amongst trees. It wouldn’t have looked out of place in a documentary about English manors.

“It’s breathtaking, isn’t it?” Ash glanced at her with a faint smile. “The Matheson family has lived here for several generations. The original Matheson came to New Zealand from England. The story goes he was a black sheep, and his family shipped him down here to avoid a scandal.”

“He obviously came good,” Charlotte said in a small voice. Had she brought the right clothes? She’d gone with smart casual, but her wardrobe choices weren’t exactly limitless.

Mature oak trees lined the drive up to the house and gave way to a huge gravel area. As Ash pulled up in front of the house, a woman appeared at the top of a flight of steps. While the house might have been traditional, the woman wouldn’t have looked out of place at an Auckland society party. Her white-blonde hair was cut in a structured bob. She wore a tight black skirt that struck her at mid-thigh and had teamed it with a matching black-and-white silky top. A pair of spiky black boots completed the look.

“Who is that?”

“Nicola Matheson.” Ash’s toneless voice dragged her attention to him.

Charlotte’s brows rose. “Oh?”

“The woman is a barracuda. Make sure you protect me.”

“What? Auckland’s premier bad boy is frightened of a woman?”

“Barracuda,” he repeated tersely. “She has a twin brother called David. I haven’t met him, but he’s meant to be here this weekend.”

Charlotte climbed from the car and waited for Ash to introduce her. He slipped an arm around Charlotte’s waist and pasted a smile on his face—a charming one, but she noticed it didn’t reach his eyes. She was coming to know his expressions.

“Hello, Nicola. This is my girlfriend Charlotte Dixon. Charlotte, Nicola Matheson.”

“Ah, the mystery redhead,” Cassandra drawled. “You have the gossip sheets humming with rumors and speculation.”

Ash didn’t comment, merely turning to the older couple who appeared at the top of the steps.

“Come in,” the man boomed in a hearty voice. “Leave your bags. Nicola will organize someone to deliver them to your rooms.”

Rooms? Charlotte had thought they were sharing.

Nicola must have caught her look. “Daddy is a bit old-fashioned. Don’t worry. We have oodles of guests this weekend. I’m sure the passage will be full of sneaking men and women in the small hours of the morning.”

Ash took care of the introductions. “Keith, Margaret, this is Charlotte Dixon. Charlotte this is Keith and Margaret Matheson.”

“You have a beautiful house,” Charlotte said to Margaret as they were ushered inside.

“It’s a money pit,” Keith boomed. “But it’s home.”

Charlotte spent the afternoon exploring the gardens and having afternoon tea with Margaret and some of the other female guests while Ash and Keith secluded themselves in the study and took care of their business. The women were mostly older than her, but they were pleasant and went out of their way to include her in the conversation.

“Do you have your outfit organized for tonight, dear?” one of the women asked.

“I do. Ash and I went shopping when we arrived.”

“A man who doesn’t mind shopping? Snap him up, my dear,” the woman said. “When are you getting married?”

Charlotte smiled and shook her head. “We’re just friends.”

“Oh, I thought—” She cast a quick glance at Margaret. “Ash has gone out of his way to keep you from the press. We thought it meant he was serious. He certainly has the signs of a besotted man.”

He did? “We haven’t known each other long.”

“Where did you meet?”

Charlotte hesitated, not enjoying being under the conversational spotlight.
Tell them you had a one-night stand with Zorro
, Ms. Feisty suggested. Charlotte choked back a laugh then aware they were staring at her expectantly, she said, “We met at a recent charity ball. Our grandmothers are…were old friends, although Ash and I didn’t realize that then.” A sharp pang pierced her as she thought of Gran and her matchmaking. Who knew Gran’s pile of correspondence held such scheming. Charlotte had posted and collected the regular letters, never suspecting a thing.

Thankfully, new arrivals interrupted the interrogation, and Charlotte escaped to her room and solitude.

Ash tapped on her door half an hour later. “Come and see my room,” he said. “You’ll need to know where to find me later tonight.”

“Are we going to share a bed?”

Ash turned to her, expression serious. “Try and stop me.”

“My dress is in your bag anyway. I might as well dress for dinner in your room.”

“I have a large en suite,” he said. “We’ll save water and shower together.”

Charlotte grabbed her makeup bag, fresh underwear and shoes before walking hand in hand with Ash to his bedroom. “Wow, you lucked out in the bedroom stakes,” she said.

“As long as we’re discreet, there’s no reason we can’t share.” He unfastened the top button of her blouse.

A surge of anticipation zapped south, frisking every pleasure point on the way. Her breath caught, and she stared at him wide-eyed. “Are we having that shower now?”

He checked his watch. “It’d pay to multi-task.”

They undressed each other, hands and partially removed clothes getting in the way. Her nipples pebbled in the air-conditioned room, heat stabbing her core as her excitement rose.

Ash dragged her into the en suite and turned on the shower. He squashed her against the tiled wall and she yelped at the blast of frigid water.

“Cold,” she squeaked, squirming to escape his grasp.

“I’ll warm you up.” He sank to his knees, wedging her legs apart with his hand. His stubble grazed the tender skin of her inner thighs before he parted her folds and licked firmly across her clit.

“Oh. Wow,” she said in patent understatement. Her hands moved restlessly across his shoulders before threading through his short, dark hair. Jolts of pleasurable excitement struck her with each rake of his tongue. One long finger pushed inside her, curling to stroke across a sweet spot. Hard and fast, desire whipped her, pushing and pulling her in every direction at once. The pleasure drove her high then dropped her abruptly as she shattered.

Ash surged to his feet and grabbed the condom he’d set on the soap dish. Seconds later he was sheathed, and he lifted her, pushing inside her sensitized body, his lips seeking hers. She tasted her tartness on his tongue, felt the contrasting hardness of teeth. All she could do was hold on while Ash took, demanded more from her. Her heart leaped, pounded as he pushed deep. Her nerve endings vibrated as she clamped her thighs around his waist. He came with a long, low groan, holding her tightly for a moment before he released her and let her slide down his body. Gasping, they pressed their foreheads together.

“That was hot,” she said.

“I want to do that every day. It’s energizing.” His blue eyes were bright as he lowered his head and kissed her, a slow, tender kiss that made her heart twist with alarm.

Temporary. This weekend with Ash was about fun and celebration. Gran would approve and Ms. Feisty sure as hell did, judging by her inner whooping, but there were no promises made between them, and she couldn’t expect them.

“I guess we’d better get ready for dinner,” Charlotte said.

“Yeah. Maybe we can sneak off early.”

“How did the business go?”

“Good. Everything is sorted. I’m glad I brought you with me,” he added. “I get the feeling Keith wouldn’t mind even closer ties between our families.”

“Uh-oh.”

“Yeah,” he said, grabbing the soap. “Turn around, and I’ll scrub your back for you.”

The dinner and entertainment following were fun. Everyone dressed for the occasion and standing inside the ballroom was like stepping back into the roaring twenties with flapper costumes, feathers, white suits and slicked-back hair.

“Have I told you how sexy you are in that dress?” Ash whispered against her ear. The warmth of his breath sent a pleasurable shudder through her and all she could think of was touching him again.

“Can we dance?”

“Can you do the Charleston?”

“Nope,” she said. “But I bet you can, and I’m okay with making a fool of myself. I like to learn new things.”

“You’re on,” Ash said, leading her onto the dance floor. He kept his polite grin intact while inside he was screaming in frustration. The odd remark from her made it clear she considered their relationship temporary. Damn it, he didn’t intend to let Charlotte walk away. Somehow, he had to prove they were good together—a matching pair. “What did you think of David?”

“Is he gay?”

“I don’t know, but he gives off that vibe.”

“Maybe not,” Charlotte murmured, pointing with the tilt of her chin. “He’s smooching with the girl who sat next to him for dinner.”

Ash showed her the steps and she picked it up quickly, laughing in delight whenever she messed up. After their dance, they both moved on to other partners. Charlotte danced with everyone, from bumbling teenagers to portly grandfathers, just as she had at the charity ball where he’d first met her.