She sat astride him, her pussy over the rigid length of his cock, slowly, sensuously rocking herself while she stroked his shoulders and kissed his chest with something approaching wonder. As the delicious sensations built in her loins, she took his stiff nipple into her mouth, rolling it as he had done with hers. He seemed to like it almost as much as she had, so she did it some more.
His breath came in short, erratic bursts. His hands held her hips lightly as she rocked herself on him, and when she sat up, smiling through her hair at him, hovering on the edge of climax, he suddenly flipped her over and began kissing her breasts again. This time he sucked a little harder on her nipple, grazing it with his teeth, lashing it with his tongue. It gave her so much pleasure, she cried out. At once he squeezed her other breast in his hand, kneading more heavily, flicking his thumb across the nipple over and over. Addie writhed beneath him, straining upward to find the pressure of his cock once more.
He gave her the business end, probing among her wet, hot folds for her throbbing entrance. His cock slid home with ease, and she gasped again, almost whimpering at the stabbing pleasure. He left it there for a bit, letting her get used to the size of the thing filling her, stretching her. But Addie couldn’t stay still. She moved beneath him, undulating, squeezing him until he began to thrust.
“Oh, God,” she whispered, closing her eyes. “Oh, God.”
“Open your eyes,” he insisted. His voice shook. “Look at me when I’m fucking you.”
“Don’t make me laugh when I’m about to come…”
“Look at me. Look at me. I’ve made you come…”
He had. It was as if his eyes brought her over the edge, hot and avid, drinking in every ounce of ecstasy he read in her face. And she could hide none of it, even if she wanted to. The joy was too intense, too wild, and the way her orgasm so obviously excited him only made it better.
Through it all, he kept thrusting into her, holding on to his control with an effort that made his whole body shake. And then, when it began to die back enough for her to take more than his eyes into focus, he took her hips in his hands and began to drive his cock in and out with greater speed. Lifting her hips off the bed, he held her by the buttocks, his hands and fingers probing and caressing wildly, his cock pumping with impossible speed that she couldn’t follow. He shook her bottom as he plunged into her, setting off new pleasure centres to unite with the old, and as he found his release, she fell with him, around him, part of him.
ef
Her breathing was almost normal. He had kissed her mouth while he came, a long, wild kiss that only partly masked the untamed animal noises of his pleasure. And then he’d collapsed on her, burying his face in her neck, so at last she’d closed her eyes to recover.
From the inside out, Addie glowed with happiness. Never had she imagined such pleasure, such holistic joy from the basic act of sex. Something about this man, something about his every touch, his every expression, overwhelmed her, physically and emotionally. And she loved it.
At this moment, she loved her life. A handsome man, a musical genius lay between her legs, his cock still buried in her after giving her the best sex of her admittedly narrow life. And his cock still twitched and throbbed occasionally, sending little extra sparks of delight through her. It still felt rigid, too, still filled her, so she doubted the night was over yet.
Addie purred with extraordinary satisfaction and opened her eyes again. Over Johnny’s shoulder, she saw the ghosts. The naked one and the kilted one, hovering over the bed. Behind them, she could have sworn Christopher disappeared through the wall.
“Johnny,” she whispered. She wasn’t sure why she whispered, it just came out that way. “Johnny, the room’s full of ghosts.”
Lazily, he lifted his head and glanced back over his shoulder. Muscles rippled and, involuntarily, Addie’s pussy contracted around him. He smiled.
“Oh, yes,” he said, turning back to her. He kissed her mouth, slowly, thoroughly. “Randy old perverts usually turn up at a sniff of sex.”
“Why?” she asked faintly. “What’s their story?”
“No idea. They’re older than the house, judging by Ewan’s kilt. We call him Ewan, but he never speaks so we’ve no idea what his name is.”
“Can’t we make them go away?”
“You could ask them, but why bother?”
“It’s a bit inhibiting to be watched!”
“It needn’t be,” Johnny said, rolling onto his back, so that she lay on top of him. “Sometimes, you might find it even adds an extra little—fillip.” He made a lazy circle with his hips, causing Addie to gasp. She brought up her knees, meaning to climb off him and hide under the quilt, only he held her hips and thrust and the pleasure held her captive all over again.
Slowly, sensuously, he brought up his hands to caress her breasts, pinching her already pebbled nipples, and she couldn’t help riding him just a little. The ghosts came closer, one on each side of her. She could almost imagine their fingers joining his on her breasts, all caressing her at once; their lips on her shoulders, another naked cock rubbing into her buttocks while Johnny fucked her.
“Oh, Jesus,” she whispered in desperation, and came again.
Johnny sat up, cradling her in his arms as the convulsions took her. Vaguely through the pleasure she was aware of him smiling into her hair.
“See?” he remarked, sliding out of her at last.
She laughed shakily. “You’re as perverse as they are.”
“I’m not the one who just orgasmed. Through now you mention it…” His long, sensitive fingers slid lower over her stomach, spanning out to stroke her thigh, and dragging slowly inward. “Have you ever played musical sex?”
“No,” said Addie breathlessly. “Can’t say I have.”
“Tell me a musical instrument and I’ll play it on your pussy. Then I’ll give you one to play on my cock.”
Nothing loath, she tried, “Violin.”
The side of his hand slid in between her thighs, stroking the length of her pussy. “When we get good at it,” he said, “we can introduce timing. I can do largo…to pizzicato.”
Since he suited the movement of his hands to the words, Addie gasped, arching involuntarily into his hand. “Your turn,” she gasped.
“Double bass.”
Amused, Addie moved to hold his semi-rigid cock against her naked shoulder, and plucked at it.
His breath hissed between his teeth. He wasn’t quite laughing. “Nice… Your turn.”
Catching on, Annie cast him a mischievous grin. “Mouth organ.”
“Oh, I hoped you’d say that.” Laying her flat on the bed, he moved to bury his face between her legs. He took his instruction seriously, holding her pussy in both undulating hands while he set his lips to her labia and blew.
“Oh, Jesus!” She clutched at his thigh as the pleasure tore through her. When he drew in his breath, sucking on her clitoris, she thought she would explode.
He released her. “Clarinet,” he said hoarsely. Half laughing, half moaning, Addie took his big, purple-headed cock into her mouth and ran her fingers up and down it in a tapping motion. Not so good a musician, she sucked rather than blew, but he didn’t complain. Instead, he pushed farther into her mouth.
“And while you’re doing that, let me just remind you about the violin…and the mouth organ…bloody hell, woman you can be in my orchestra any time. Your turn.”
She unwrapped her lips from his cock. “I think…I’ll just stick with the…mouth organ,” she got out, hovering on the verge of yet another climax.
“Not allowed. I can do some conducting, if you like.”
Burning, trembling, she could think of no objection, and once he slid his finger inside her soaking pussy and moved it up and down and side to side like a baton, she didn’t even try.
“Trombone,” he growled, and she fell on his cock once more, taking it deep into her mouth and pumping the skin. The ghosts drifted by her line of vision, but she barely noticed them n
ow. The trombone misbehaved, urging its own rhythm. She writhed on his fingers—there were two of them now.
“Piano!” she gasped out, and still moving his fingers inside her, he used his other hand to play imaginary keys across her clitoris. Her mouth filled with his semen and she managed to swallow once before the world exploded.
Through her joy she heard him shout out, “Yes!” with pure, uncomplicated joy.
“Yes what?” she asked breathlessly, when she could say anything at all.
“Yes, I’ve just thought of the second movement.” He pulled her up into his arms, and she could taste herself on his lips as he kissed her. Their juices mingled again in their mouths. To Addie, it felt like a strange, deep bonding.
“Play it,” she suggested, for there were musical instruments—two guitars, a flute, a violin, keyboards—lying all over the room.
“Later,” he said, settling down on the pillows with her in his arms. His cock nestled between her thighs; lazily, he pushed it inside her. “I promised you could sleep.”
“Like this?” She squeezed his cock between the walls of her pussy and he smiled sleepily, brushing his lips across hers again.
“Just like this.”
ef
Addie woke with an inexplicable sense of well-being. She was warm; a strong arm lay heavily across her, holding her spoon-wise to a big, strong body. A mostly dormant cock nestled between her buttocks.
Sex. That’s why she felt so good. She’d had stunningly wonderful sex with him, and her body remembered with more intensity than her mind could squash this early in the day.
But that wasn’t all. The sense of euphoria that made her smile into her pillow came from something more. Almost with awe, she realized she’d had fun.
Experimentally, she pushed back into the man at her shoulder, and he gathered her closer with a vague grunt of contentment. She smiled again. This and the fun would keep her going through the inevitable loneliness. After all, how badly could you miss someone you’d known for two days?
But, suddenly interrupting her illusion of peace and well-being, she heard footsteps leaping lightly up the stairs, a perfunctory knock on the bedroom door and someone whispered, “John. John, your guests are stirring…” And put the overhead light on.
Johnny loomed up over her shoulder. “What? Dan?”
“Ah,” said the policeman, drinking in the presence of Addie in her victim’s bed. She wanted to dive under the quilt and hide. Instead, she stared back at him as if he was invading her privacy. “Sorry. Didn’t realize you had company.”
“Go away, Dan. I’ll be down in a minute.”
Dan shrugged, but since Johnny was already getting out of bed, he obviously saw no point in lingering.
It was too late, anyway. Reality had returned. And last night became again what she’d always known it was: a night of pretense.
“Where’s the nearest bathroom?” she asked, and was pleased at least that her voice didn’t shake.
Johnny, stark naked under the electric light, was pulling clothes out of a cupboard. Despite the dull ache between her legs caused by yesterday’s enthusiastic sex, lust stirred again in Addie’s loins. She tried to keep her gaze above his waist.
With a faint, lopsided smile, Johnny pointed to the door of what she’d taken to be another cupboard. Addie slid out of bed, taking the quilt with her as far as the bathroom door and grabbing up her discarded clothes from the floor as she went.
Modesty came with reality.
When she emerged only a few minutes later, having merely taken a quick pee and splashed lukewarm water over her face and body before throwing on her clothes, John Maxwell was already dressed and peering out of his round, turret window.
He’d looked bloody sexy in a kilt; faded jeans and a baggy grey sweater didn’t do him any harm, either. Whatever he wore, the man inside was devastating. Addie felt the pain of loss begin to rise from her stomach, threatening to consume her.
Fun, she reminded herself desperately. We had fun…
Without turning, Johnny said, “I think it’s thawing. The roads should be passable.”
“Good.”
“Malky’s been out starting the car.”
“Good,” she said again. She had to get out of here before the awkward morning ruined the night of fun for both of them. She turned away, walking quickly toward the door. Yet when she got there, somehow he was before her, his long, clever fingers grasping the handle. But he didn’t open it at once.
His intense gaze was on her, a faint, sad smile in his eyes and curving his lips. Behind that, he was hiding something. She wasn’t surprised.
He said, “You will remember this, won’t you?”
She shrugged gracelessly, wishing he would just open the door. But unexpectedly his free hand came up, touching her cheek, ruining everything. “Please, remember this.”
She gasped, swallowing back the stupid, pointless tears. “I don’t want to remember,” she whispered, and yet she couldn’t stop turning into his hand, caressing his palm with her cheek. “Let’s just get it over.”
And to her relief, he turned the handle and opened the door.
Chapter Thirteen
Through the open front door, the pink and grey light of the rising sun filtered into the hall, revealing swarms of dust, swirling and twisting themselves into fanciful shapes. Descending the stairs alone—she’d gone to collect the borrowed phone from her “bedroom”, had been inexplicably sad not to find the ghosts there to say goodbye—Addie concentrated on the dust. It was easier than looking at Johnny, who lounged with one shoulder against the solid grandfather clock. It still said twelve o’clock, as if time had stood still since they’d first arrived here. Instead, Addie felt she’d lived an entire lifetime.
Abandoning Lady Maxwell’s walking stick, Shug had to lean heavily on Jim, but he still carried the sports bag with their loot.
“Keep the stick,” Johnny invited as they passed him. “It might even convict you later on.”
“Fuck off,” said Shug, without obvious rancour.
Malky’s bulk filled the open doorway. “Aw right?” he asked jovially. He looked rather sheepishly around the hall, taking in John, Tammy and Gavin, who had all come to see they finally made it off the premises. “Fuck, it Shug, this doesnae seem right,” he said angrily.
Shug paused and looked at him. “What doesn’t?”
“We lived in their house for two days. We can’t take their stuff.”
“Aye, we can,” said Shug grimly, “if we want to live.”
“If you want to live,” Addie reminded him. “Malky’s right. Look, only one of these manuscripts has any real market value. Give the other one back.”
“Won’t stop them grassing us up as soon as we’ve gone.”
“Give us them both back, and there’s no crime to report,” Johnny said steadily.
“And I get my head blown off,” Shug objected.
“You won’t miss it,” said Addie. “Come on, Shug, it went wrong from the start.”
Shug glared at her, the fury of indecision all over his face. “That’s your fault. You’re a bloody jinx.”
Gavin warned, “Don’t do any deals with them, Johnny. It looks bad in court.”
“It would certainly look bad for you,” Johnny observed.
Addie’s breath caught. Don’t do this now, we’re nearly free! Let us just go and somehow I’ll hand him to you on a plate, I promise…
Gavin frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I mean the line from you to them is not exactly untraceable. I’m sure you’ve got a few phone numbers in common listed on your mobiles.”
“Mobiles?” Tammy frowned in puzzlement, glancing from her brother to her lover for enlightenment. “What are you talking about?”
“Good question,” Gavin said, although Addie noticed he couldn’t help the instinctive delve into his pocket in search of his phone.
Johnny took his hand out of his own jeans pocket and waved a phone at him.
>
“Why you…that’s mine,” Gavin exclaimed, starting toward him.
“I know. Dan, catch.”
All heads turned toward the kitchen doorway, in which Dan suddenly materialized, deftly catching the tossed phone. “Police evidence,” he said.
“Police evidence?” Gavin almost squeaked in his outrage. “From me? What about these jokers? They’re the ones who committed a crime!”
“No they didn’t,” said Johnny. “Not if they give the manuscripts back.”
“Aye, well, that’s not going to happen,” Shug declared, making up his mind. “Out of my way—we’re leaving.”
“Sorry, Shug,” said Johnny, and tripped him brutally by the broken ankle.
Shug screamed and went down like a felled tree. Jim, who hadn’t quite grasped what happened, dropped with him, saying helplessly, “Shug! Shug!”
“What’d you do that for?” Malky demanded, roaring across the hall like a tank.
“Oh, Jesus Christ,” said Addie. “Here we go again.”
“Not quite,” said Johnny, and that was when she noticed he held the shotgun pointed straight at Shug’s head.
Shug, prostrate on the floor but with his hand already in his jacket pocket, froze. So did Malky, about to launch himself in a flying tackle on Johnny. He looked like a grotesquely overgrown kid playing musical statues.
Shug stared at the shotgun, then slowly lifted his mean, cold eyes to the musician’s.
“Where the fuck was that?”
“In the clock,” said Johnny. “Haven’t you ever seen Laura? I’ll take my property back now please, James.”
Jim drew in his breath, glanced at Malky who nodded his head once. Reluctantly, Jim opened the bag, took out the fat envelope and held it out to Johnny.
“On the floor,” Johnny instructed, unwilling to take either his attention off Shug, or one hand off the gun. Jim dropped the papers on the floor.
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