Call On Me (25 page)

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, there 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.