Call On Me (12 page)

Chapter 4

When the
silence continued to stretch on, Ghost reached out to lay a hand on
her leg. “Okay, kid?”

“I’m not a
kid,” was her automatic response. “And I’m fine.”

“Why didn’t you
call me?” he asked.

“For what?” she
replied bitterly. “To sort out yet another bloke who didn’t turn
out to be the right one?”

He squeezed her
thigh gently. “The right one will come along, Ali.”

“Yeah, right.
Let’s be honest, Ghost, who the hell wants a fatty?”

Turning
sideways, he looked at her. Her profile was miserable and that cut
him to the core. Angry Ali, annoyed Ali, but sad Ali? As usual, it
invoked his protective instinct. “You’re not a fatty.”

“Oh, come on.”
She stared at the river. “We all know I’m not the ideal woman for
most men. I’m fat, I’m opinionated, but mostly the fat part is what
turns men off – or turns the wrong kind of men on for whatever
twisted reason.”

Straightening,
he moved to stand in front of her. “Ali,” he said softly, “Stop
it.”

“Stop what?
Being honest?” Tears glinted in her eyes, making his gut clenched.
“You be honest, Ghost. What kind of man is attracted to a body like
mine? I’m not slender, I’m fat.”

The Ali sitting
so despondently on the ‘roo bar was not the bouncy, happy,
confident woman he was used to, making him silently curse the men
who had slowly but surely brought her to this point. Curling a hand
around her nape, he leaned in while drawing her head forward until
their foreheads touched and he was looking directly into her
tear-drenched eyes. “Honey, you’ve dated losers. Out there
somewhere is a decent man, one who will see your worth, know how
beautiful you are inside and out, who will love you regardless of
how you look.”

“So you’re
agreeing that I’m fat.”

“No. I’m saying
you are you, Ali Mackay. Any man would be lucky to have you. You
can’t let a few losers bring you down.”

“They’re just
being truthful.”

“No, they’re
being arseholes. A man dates a woman because he’s interested in
her, not just for sex or to put them on a diet to make them into
their idea of a perfect woman. A real man accepts you for who you
are.”

“Fat.”

“Keep saying
that and you won’t sit down for a week.”

“I’ll break
your lap.”

He gave a small
grin. “The car bonnet is pretty solid.”

“See!” She
started to pull back.

Refusing to
release her, he kept them eye to eye. “Ali, stop it.”

“You don’t
understand. I’m tired of it all. I’m tired of trying to find the
right man, I’m tired of dating, I’m tired of thinking some bloke is
nice only to find out they want something different from me.”

“Then maybe you
just need to stop dating for a while. Stop looking. Give yourself a
break.”

“Be an old fat
spinster, you mean? I’m two thirds of the way there already.”

“Oh honey.” He
kissed her forehead.

“First kiss in
ages.” She gave a watery smile.

Smiling, he
kissed the tip of her cute nose. “Second kiss.”

“Guess it won’t
get any better than that.”

Her eyes still
shimmered with tears, the moonlight making them appear to sparkle.
Moving his head back a little, his gaze wandered over her face,
taking in the damp cheeks, and reaching up with his other hand he
wiped his thumb across the smooth skin.

The closeness
of his position standing between her spread knees gave him access
to the warmth of her body, the heady scent of her perfume seeping
into his senses. So soft and enticing.

As enticing as
the moonlight playing across her full lips, the red shine of
lipstick a tempting heat that beckoned to him. For the first time
in his life he wondered what Ali would taste like, what she’d feel
like in his arms. Not a friendly kiss, not a friendly hug, but…

Slowly his gaze
lifted, travelling back up her cute nose to her eyes, the green
depths that were at once both mysterious and seducing, and he could
feel himself falling, falling into the depths of those crystal
green pools.

Her eyes
widened a little, her breath sucking in slowly and deeply as though
she, too, felt a shift. Those full lips opened a little. “Ty?”

Of its own
accord his thumb trailed across her silky skin, his hand opening as
he cupped the round, smooth cheek and looked deep, so deep into her
eyes. “Ali.”

“Ty, I
don’t…This isn’t a good idea.” Nervously, she chewed on her bottom
lip.

The sight of
those small, white teeth biting into the lushness was his undoing.
He wanted to taste her, needed to…so he did.

A small tilt of
his head and he moved closer, ever closer, slowly, closing his eyes
as her own lashes fluttered down and their breaths mingled. Then
sweet God Almighty, his lips brushed across hers for the first time
and just that alone hit him hard, almost bringing him to his
knees.

The silkiness
of her lips was more than he could bear, the lightness of the touch
not enough, and he pressed his lips to hers, moulding the sensitive
flesh together, but it still wasn’t enough. Still he wanted more,
sliding the tip of his tongue against the sealed seam of her lips,
tentatively asking for entrance. When she didn’t comply immediately
he demanded it, his tongue pressing firmly until she opened to him
on a small moan, and then he was inside that sweet, hot cavern, the
sensations hitting him at once, the taste of her bursting upon his
tongue, the sweetness, the heat. Suddenly he craved more, so much
more.

His hand slid
into her hair, cupping her head as he held her at the angle he
wanted while he took her mouth, kissing her hard, the heat building
fast, faster than he’d ever imagined, faster than had ever happened
with another woman. It was as though he could drink from her all
night, a thirsting man finally getting the sweet nectar he
needed.

He ravaged her
mouth, there was no other word for it, and he did it with thorough
enjoyment, with complete abandon. It was as though something deep
inside him had waited for this moment, had awakened, and was now
taking what it could from her.

Taking Ali.
Kissing her so deeply, so thoroughly. And still not enough.

Ghost was
acting now on pure instinct, his arm around her waist yanking her
hard against him, his body the only thing stopping her from
slipping off the ‘roo bar, the juncture of her thighs hard against
the front of his jeans, heat building between them. It was as if
the pure, carnal fervour of their kiss was searing down to pool hot
and low in his loins, an ember sparking, a fire building.

Building so
hotly.

Hungrily he
plundered her mouth, swallowing her essence while revelling in the
soft curves pressed so intimately against his harder, muscular
body. The rising fire inside him was burning fiercely, almost
consuming him, wanting to consume her, to join them in a blaze of
soul-searing heat.

His shaft
ached, rigid and urgent, throbbing against the zipper of his jeans,
and the realisation that only a few pieces of material separated
their bodies was tantalizing, a tease. The only thing keeping her
slick heat from him was the thin material of her panties and the
rougher material of his jeans.

Releasing her
mouth, he looked down into her eyes, watching them flutter open,
desire making them molten pools of green heat. Her lips, so swollen
and red from his kisses, sighed his name on a whisper of
passion.

Sexual desire
burned in her as much as him, and it was this knowledge that had
him acting, throwing all caution to the wind as he slid her down
off the ‘roo bar, hauling her up against him as soon as her feet
hit the ground.

“Don’t stop.
Don’t let me go,” she whispered, pleaded, her voice husky with
need. “Please, Ty, please.”

No way in hell
was he letting her go, he couldn’t even form a coherent word to
reassure her. But he could show her. He could bloody well show her
how much he wanted her, how much his desire for her was burning out
of control. He swallowed her pleas in a hot, heavy kiss, devouring
her once more, and within seconds she was again pressing hard
against him, those generous curves so giving against his
hardness.

Such
tormentingly, temptingly, sweet curves.

Constraint was
slipping fast, swamped by a fever of rapacity, and he let himself
go, allowing loose the sexual aggression and dominance he normally
kept tightly leashed. In that moment he didn’t care, didn’t want
tenderness, wanted only Ali, her slick heat, her sheath, her every
secret heretofore unknown revealed to him. Wanted, craved for her
to accept him, aggression and dominance combined. Accept him for
everything he was, to not hide from her his desires and instinct.
To
know
him.

To know
her.

Still kissing
her, one hand cupping her breast and feeling the hard peaking of
her nipple below the confines of her clothes, Ghost pulled her away
from the ‘roo bar, using his body to crowd her around the front of
the car to the side. Backing her against the side of the bonnet, he
thrust into her with his hips, rewarded by her shifting against
him, pressing closer, her small teeth nipping at his lips before
she kissed him just as fiercely and hotly, her small tongue
invading his mouth, invading him as surely as her fragrance invaded
his senses.

Her hands
plucked at his flannel shirt, pushing the open sides back before
pulling his t-shirt from his waistband to slide her hands beneath,
small palms flattening against his ridged abdomen. The touch
inflamed him, making him search for the waistband of her shirt in
turn before he remembered that she wore a dress.

Taking care of
that was easy, it wasn’t as though it was going to be in the way of
his goal.

Stepping back
slightly, he whirled her around so that she faced the bonnet, his
hand at her lower abdomen pressing her rounded derriere back
against him, his other hand at her chin tipping her head back so he
could catch her mouth once more, licking deep. Keeping her a
willing prisoner of his mouth, he slid one hand down, the other up
her body until he was cupping her breasts, those heavy breasts
confined in a bra that denied him the full sensation of their
weight in his aching palms.

Aching palms
because he wanted her in all her natural beauty.

But he could
still have her, still feel her, still be part of her regardless,
aching for that just as much, his hands slowly drifting down to
clasp her dress at her hips, fingers expertly working the material
up her legs – knees, thighs, and higher.

When she
protested at the feel of the cool breeze against her naked thighs,
he swallowed her words, dominating her with touch and tongue, using
his experience to soothe any alarm from her, to show her that he
desired her. In return he was rewarded by her yielding and the
dress bunching up at her hips.

Leaving her
lips, he angled his head down to her throat, licking, sipping,
sucking lightly at the pulse that beat so erratically in the
elegant arch as she leaned her head against his shoulder, tipping
her head to the side to allow him greater access.

Nuzzling her
throat, he slid his other hand over the generous hip, the gentle
swell of her belly and further down under the waistband of her
silky panties, fingertips playing with the curls hidden within the
material. Further down he went, fingers gliding through the curls,
over the mound, at the same time sliding one thigh neatly between
hers, separating her further for his marauding hand.

Her gasp was
loud in the air when his finger slid so neatly between the
sheltering folds of her labia, the damp heat within that kissed his
fingertips sure proof of her desire. Using the natural lubrication
of her body, he slid his fingers lightly up and down, finding the
little nub hidden so deep within the folds, playing it expertly,
making Ali shudder and jerk in his arms.

Nipping her
throat, he rubbed the tip of his finger across her clitoris,
feeling it pebble, knowing exactly what it was doing to her.
Forking two fingers, he rubbed either side of the clitoris.

“Oh God, Oh
God, Ty!” Her pants filled the night, low and husky with carnal
desire.

“Ali.” He
breathed it against her ear. “Fly with me.” And he slid his finger
unerringly into her, her moan as prurient as his groan.

Tight around
his finger, her sheath beckoned to him with dark mystery, pulling
at his finger he fancied, wanting him to go deeper, wanting him in
the same lust-induced way he wanted it. Wanted Ali. Because he
couldn’t have one without the other and he wanted them both, wanted
her. Needed her so much.

She shuddered
against him, pressing into his palm, and he felt the first spasm of
her sheath around his finger.

She was close,
so very close.

But not without
him. They’d go together.

Ali moaned a
protest when he withdrew his hand.

“Easy, Ali,” he
breathed into her ear. “Easy.”

“Ty, please.
Please, Ty…please…”

“Bend forward,
honey.” One hand on her back guided her down over the bonnet, one
hand at her stomach ensuring her path was gentle.

Once she was
down, balanced on her elbows, Ghost kissed the back of her neck,
tickling her, tormenting her with his mouth, keeping her distracted
as he slid her panties downwards. Unsnapping and unzipping his
jeans freed his shaft, the cool breeze on the overheated and
sensitized skin tantalizing. Sliding both hands down her sides, he
lingered briefly at the indent of her waist before moving further
down until he cradled her hips. Inhaling her scent, he detected the
fresh, natural fragrance of Ali beneath the flowery perfume she
wore, finding it intoxicating.