Call On Me

by Angela Verdenius

  When Ali silently held up one hand, Mrs Swanson halted, confusion and sympathy warring on her lined face. Opening the door, Ali walked out of the restaurant, refusing to run, walking steadily to the car and unlocking the door. Tears burned in her eyes as she got into the drivers’ seat.

  Chris came running out of the restaurant. “Alissa! Wait! Don’t be upset, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to-”

  Slamming the door shut, Ali locked it, started the car, and ignoring him tapping frantically on her window, she put the car into reverse and revved the engine. That made him leap back. As she pulled away, she glanced into the rear-view mirror to see him standing on the footpath with his mouth hanging open. He looked worried.

  Bastard! How could he say what he did? How could he? Biting her lip, she felt a tear slip from her eye and slide down her cheek, leaving a hot trail. Bastard!

  She started to head for home, wanting to shut the door and close the world out so she could wallow in misery and shame, but that meant facing her sister. Lori would not be happy. Shy she might be, but when it came to Ali, Lori would be ready to fly out the door and confront Chris. She’d be shaking and nervous, but her fury would carry her through that, though she’d also be a bit of a wreck after the confrontation. No, going home upset wasn’t the answer.

  That left one other place.

  Turning onto another road, Ali steered the car through a quiet section, then across another road until she got to the turn-off to the river. A small distance along a dirt road, she parked the car in the deserted curving parking bay before the river.

  Turning off the engine, she looked out at the water. The moonlight glinted off the smooth surface and the trees on both banks cast protective shadows across the wildlife within the shelter.

  It was always one of the places Ali went to when she was upset, angry, or simply needed a quiet place to get her head together when having difficulties. This was definitely one of those times. Quiet, deserted, it was the ideal place for her to sit, sniffle and brood without anyone being the wiser.

  Wiping her hand across her cheek, she opened the car door and got out. Moving around to the front, she hoisted herself up onto the ‘roo bar and sat down to stare out at the river. The night birds sang, more noises indicating that animals, mammals and other slithering species she didn’t really want to think about were alive and well in the bushes, going about their business.

  God, she couldn’t believe what Chris had said to her. He’d actually said it to her, told her he could help with her weight problem, her job prospects, but ultimately her weight problem.

  Was that what he’d really thought when he’d first seen her? She was some overweight person who needed rescuing? Closing her eyes, she felt another tear slide out. Most times she could shrug off a bit of rudeness, dealing with travellers from all walks of life coming and going through the motel toughened one up, but this was different. He’d asked her on a date then proceeded to tell her he would help her lose weight.

  What the hell was it about people who were so fixated on weight? What?

  And why couldn’t she find a man who was happy with her, who could accept her? What was wrong with her?

  Another tear slipped free.

  Then she heard it, the sound of an engine drawing closer. Solitude was gone, the last thing she needed was to watch a young couple necking right where she was having her pity party. Maybe whoever it was would decide to drive away once they saw her.

  The car rounded the bend, the lights flaring behind her while she steadfastly gazed at the river, silently willing the driver to turn around and go away.

  Then again, it could be an axe murderer. The way she felt right now, she’d rip the axe out of his hand and brain him with it. She was in no mood to deal with anyone, be they an axe murderer or a necking couple.

  The car came to a stop and the engine turned off, the only sound that of Guns ‘n’ Roses music coming from the CD player. Sighing, she continued to look out at the river. She knew exactly who had arrived. It hadn’t taken him long, no doubt alerted by a phone call or two by concerned friends. She might have known.

  The car door opening and closing sounded, footfalls over the dry grass. Walking around the front of the car, he turned to face the river, leaning back against the ‘roo bar beside her, so close his shirt flapped against her leg.

  Ghost’s presence was soothing, so quiet and calm. So reassuring as they both gazed silently out at the river.

  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 war
mth 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 fing
er 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.

  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.