Call On Me (13 page)

As intoxicating
as the heat between her thighs, her feminine secrets that wept for
him.

His shaft
jerked, straining painfully. Straightening, he gripped her hips
tighter, tilting her to his satisfaction before simply hovering,
drawing out the erotic sensation of the dampness of her curls just
brushing the tip of his shaft. Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply,
opening them once again to gaze down at the woman bent over the
bonnet before him, her hair fallen from its bun to cascade down her
back and over her shoulders, the red of the dress dark against her
paler skin. The moonlight picked out every curve, every swell, and
he’d never seen anyone so beautiful, especially when she gazed back
over her shoulder at him, her eyes brilliant with passion, hot with
heat, and a touch uncertain.

“Ty?” It was a
mixture of breathy, wanting need, and trembling shyness.

A tantalizing
mix.

Flexing his
hips, he slid between the sheltering curls, rewarded once again by
her whimper and the tipping back of her head as the tip of his
shaft probed along the seam of her body, seeking her opening,
lodging at the entrance.

“Yeah, honey.”
His voice was low, grating with lust. “It’s me.”

Thrusting in,
he buried himself deep, ruthlessly pushing through the tight
sheath, tunnelling through the snug walls until he couldn’t go any
further.

Pushing herself
up onto her hands, Ali whimpered again, surprise and carnal hunger
combined. She pushed her hips back at him, wanting more, and he
laughed darkly, loving it when she again demandingly pushed back at
him.

More than
willing to give her what she wanted, what he wanted, what they both
needed, Ghost drew back, almost pulling free and making her twist
wildly in protest before slamming home again, thrusting hard.

This time he
didn’t stop.

Hips pumping,
he rocked her against the car, slamming into her, holding those
delicious hips in his hands, gripping her tightly as he slammed
into her over and over, revelling in her sexy moans that filled the
air, the way she thrust her bottom back at him, letting him know by
her actions that she loved it as much as he.

Braced on her
hands, head thrown back, she arched into every hard pump deep
inside her, her sheath clasping him in a hot, tight, wet fist that
sought to keep him within, that greeted him and shivered around
him, sucking him in so deep, so lovingly, so demandingly.

Heart pounding,
a sheen of sweat breaking out across his forehead, Ghost was caught
up in the eroticism of the moment. The moonlight that bathed Ali in
a silver glow was like a painting of a rubenesque beauty caught in
the throes of passion, wild and abandoned. If in that moment he
could have had a photo of her like this, he’d have commissioned an
artist to paint it and hung it on his bedroom wall.

The softness of
her flesh welcomed him, the backs of her thighs snugging his harder
thighs, her lush bottom a welcome cradle for his lean hips, the
insides of her plump thighs a caress against his jean-clad legs. If
he wasn’t so far gone in rutting heat he’d have stripped his jeans
off, but just the thought of stopping the delicious driving into
her to undress properly was something he couldn’t even consider. He
couldn’t stop now to save his life.

Fire burned,
sluicing through him from her hot sheath into his shaft, pooling
out low and hedonistically into his groin, tightening his sac.
Thigh muscles flexed as he adjusted his stance slightly to pound
into her vigorously, the base desire to rut forging him on harder,
faster, mercilessly, her whimpers and moans of unadulterated
pleasure spurring him onwards.

Heart pounding,
veins corded in his arms, fingers biting deeply into the pale hips,
he pumped yet faster, blood surging, his shaft leaking seed into
that tight clasp of her sheath.

The walls of
her sheath rippled, his shaft swelling even more in response to her
body, and he continued to tunnel into her, pounding the sweet
depths, pushing them both higher up that peak. Hot blood roared in
his ears, fiery dots of ardour sparking along his skin, the fiery
ball of heat tightening his sac. Another hard thrust and this time
he barely withdrew before shoving deep again, his hips flush
against her bottom, his shaft deep inside, just shoving and
shoving, trying to go deeper but unable to do so physically. Not
one second did he want to peel back from her, not one inch, so he
kept shoving forwards, her sheath spasming around him, gripping him
tightly.

The climax took
her, the clenching of her sheath ripping his orgasm from him, his
seed pouring deep inside her as he roared her name. Hips jerking
against her, he was thrown into the erotic tide of prurience and
rolled under, the stars from Heaven shattering around him.

When Ghost
finally floated back to reality from the dreamy aftermath of a
soul-shattering climax, it was to find himself slumped over Ali,
his cheek against the back of her shoulder.

Lifting his
head, he looked down to see her also slowly coming to, her lashes
fluttering until finally she opened her eyes. Almost immediately
she stiffened.

Jesus, I’ve
just had hard, fast, mind-blowing sex with Ali Mackay
. One of
his best friends. And right now his shaft was still buried deep
within her, only now her sheath wasn’t spasming in the throes of
orgasm.

Mind churning,
he straightened, stepping back, catching his breath as his shaft
slipped free from her. As Ali pushed upright, he quickly stuffed
himself back into his jeans, zipping up and re-snapping the
button.

He glanced at
Ali, seeing her move a little stiffly. Automatically he reached
out, grabbing her arm to help her straighten.

Without looking
at him, she shrugged his hand off, side-stepping away from him
towards the car door on her left.

He had to say
something. “Ali…” But what? What could he possibly say to something
they’d both done that had just turned their friendship right on its
head? But he couldn’t bear to see her keep her face averted, her
silence. “Ali please, talk to me.”

“I don’t…” She
cleared her throat. “I’m going home. I’ll see you…later.”

That was it?
Concern spiked through him and not just at their suddenly
weirded-out friendship. He’d been hard on her and going by the
tightness of her body, sex wasn’t something she’d indulged in
much.

If at all.

It was that
last thought that made him catch the driver’s door as she opened
it. “Ali, wait.”

One leg already
in the car, she glanced up at him, the heavy swath of hair covering
part of her face casting shadows so that he couldn’t see her
expression clearly. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

Refusing to
relinquish the door, he stepped closer, bending down to try and see
her face. “Are you all right? Did I hurt you?”

Her smile was
tight, her gaze not meeting his. “Fine. Goodnight.” In a swift move
she sat down in the car, drawing her other leg in and briskly
shutting the door.

It said a lot
for Ghost’s state of mind that he just let her. The door slid from
his fingers and he could only look as she started the engine and
put the car into reverse. Not one word came to his befuddled mind
as he watched her leave the parking bay, the taillights of her car
vanishing around the curve.

Leaving him
alone at the river, the music still drifting from his car, his
sexual desire well and truly sated but his mind a blathering
mess.

Jesus Christ,
he’d just had sex with Ali Mackay, one of his best friends, and now
it looked like she didn’t want to see him ever again. Desperately
he cast back through his mind to reassure himself that he hadn’t
forced her at some point, but no, it was clear as day. Not once had
she told him to stop, struggled or gave any indication that she
didn’t want intimacy with him. It was the other way around, she’d
kissed him back, given every indication that she was just as eager
for sex as he’d been, had encouraged him.

But still, the
fact remained. He’d had sex with his best friend and he knew enough
about females to recognise that now it was all over, things would
change. Girls didn’t just have sex and walk away. Especially
Ali.

Was that what
he wanted? Right now, he was replaying the scene in his mind, the
events leading up to it and…

Shit, right now
he wasn’t in any fit state to think about anything.

But one thing
he did know, if it hadn’t of been for Chris bloody Smith, he and
Ali wouldn’t have been out in the sticks and ended up shagging over
the car bonnet. Chris had made her cry, made her doubt herself, and
right now that was first and foremost in Ghost’s brain.

It didn’t
excuse what Ghost had done, that he knew, but it was still Chris
who had humiliated Ali, who’d made her cry, who’d shamed her at the
restaurant.

The phone calls
from several concerned people who’d overheard parts of the
conversation only added to Ghost’s anger that had been simmering
when he’d first heard what had happened. Now he acted, doing
exactly what he’d intended to do once he’d comforted Ali.

Of course,
having sex with Ali hadn’t been his intention, but regardless,
Chris was still going to get that visit from Ghost. Right now.

As for Ali,
he’d tackle that problem later. He knew that to chase her now would
only escalate the problem.

~*~

The water
jetted down, the warmth seeping through her chilled skin. Picking
up the shampoo bottle, she poured out a generous amount and
lathered up her hair. Refusing to think, refusing to give a second
to troubling thoughts, Ali washed her hair, lathered her body and
watched the water swirl it all away down the plug hole.

Only when she
washed between her legs did her breath catch, not least because she
was tender there, but still she blanked her mind, refusing –
refusing
– to allow any thoughts to spike into her brain
with cruel little claws.

Drying herself,
she eyed the red dress lying on the floor in the corner and decided
she’d better wash it separately from the other clothes until she
was sure the dye wouldn’t run. Then she’d give it away to a charity
shop.

The cotton
nightie was soothing against her still sensitized skin. Picking up
the wide toothed comb, she started combing her hair. Looking at her
reflection, she deliberately avoided the sight of her kiss-swollen
mouth and instead focussed on her pale cheeks. Hopefully she wasn’t
coming down with something. Chelsea, one of the waitresses at work,
had thought she was coming down with a bug, but it turned out that
the nausea was due to pregnancy.

Pregnancy?
Oh shit!
Comb halfway through her hair, she froze. Everything
had happened so fast, so quickly, so heatedly –
don’t think
about that!
– and while she wasn’t hugely experienced, she knew
enough to know that Ghost hadn’t used a condom and she certainly
wasn’t on the pill, not when she had never planned to have sex with
any man until the relationship was solid. One night stands weren’t
for her.

One river
stands were, obviously.
Shut up! Shut up shut up shut
up!

Sucking in a
shuddering breath, she nodded to herself. It was okay, it was all
okay. She’d heard of the morning after pill. Tomorrow she’d go to
the chemist and get it. Her eyes widened at a sudden thought. Oh
hell no. Too many people knew her in this small town, the morning
after pill was like waving a red rag to a bull, especially when it
would soon get around that she’d ditched Chris. So why, everyone
would speculate, would she need the morning after pill?

“Damn it.”
Yanking the comb through her hair painfully, she watched her vision
blur through the tears. “Ouch! Okay, get a grip, Ali. Simply go to
the city. That’s right. Chemists are open on a Sunday there, too.
It’s a three hour drive but what the hell? It’ll be good to clear
your head. You’ll go, get the damned pill, and come home. Good
plan.” She heaved a sigh.

It also meant
she wouldn’t have to see Ghost tomorrow, she could skilfully avoid
him.

Dropping the
comb, she braced both hands on the basin and hunched her shoulders,
closing her eyes.

Oh God, she’d
just had sex with her best friend. Oh God, she’d had it out at the
river, bent over her own car bonnet while he took her from
behind.

Her fingers
tightened on the porcelain even as she tried to ignore the shiver
of delight that coursed low in her belly at just the memory.
It
had been…awesome!
Unfortunately it had also been with Ty
Sinclair, best friend and man-next-door. Not good, so not good.

So very, very
bad. Because it had been pity sex. She distinctly remembered
begging
for it at some point during the whole heated
episode. God, there’d she’d been, all maudlin about no one wanting
her and when he’d kissed her, she’d joked and he’d kissed her again
and then it had gone downhill from there. Well, uphill if it had
been any other man apart from Ty Sinclair, aka Ghost.

Where did that
leave them now? Best friends didn’t have sex. Best friends shared
laughter, not nookie. It was all such a mess, such a bloody, awful
mess. How on earth was she going to face Ghost ever again? This
changed things, messed it up. The one man she felt so at ease with,
it was all buggered up now. Completely and utterly buggered up.

Even more
humiliating, he’d had a good view of her naked and very generous
arse in all its dimpled glory.
Oh, kill me now! No, no, stop
thinking about it! Stop!

Slamming the
comb down, she swore. It was either that or burst into tears,

A knock sounded
on the bathroom. “Ali, you okay?”

“I’m fine,
Lori.” Taking a deep breath, Ali straightened up. “Just dropped
something.”