Ain't Misbehaving

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Ain't Misbehaving Page 14

by Shelley Munro


  “What are you wearing?” a husky voice asked.

  “Ash?”

  “Do you have other men calling to ask what you’re wearing?”

  She pursed her lips to stem the urge to giggle. “Not on a regular basis. What are you wearing?”

  “I’ve just returned from a run,” he said, and she held her breath, hoping he’d keep talking. The man had a raspy voice, and every word caressed her skin, her senses. He’d sound sexy reading a dry legal document.

  “And,” she prompted.

  “I got hot and sweaty.”

  Charlotte ran the words through her mind, pictured him with a sheen on his skin, his dark hair tousled. “Hot enough to take off your shirt?”

  A huff containing an edge of laughter strummed her ear. “All I’m wearing is a pair of boxer-briefs. I’m about to jump into the shower.”

  “Take them off,” she said.

  “You’ve hijacked my game. I’m the one with the bad-boy reputation.”

  “You’re wearing fewer clothes,” she countered. “We’ll get to the good stuff sooner.”

  “Tease,” he said in a low purr.

  Excitement prickled through her, and she shifted her weight, the pull of her cotton shirt across her bare breasts setting her nipples tingling. She fanned her face, her free hand gripping her cell while she waited for him to say something else. The rustle of clothing traveled down the line.

  “I’m naked,” he announced. “And my cock is hard enough to hammer a nail. What are you going to do about it?”

  Her stomach did a dip and twirl. Heat punched at the juncture of her thighs. “If I were there, I’d sink to my knees and learn the shape of your penis with my hands and fingers. I’d stroke the crown and tease you until drops of pre-come started to form at your slit.”

  “Go on.” His raspy voice filled her with yearning.

  “Then I’d use my mouth on you, cleaning away the moisture with my tongue.”

  “I’m very sweaty,” he whispered. “We should probably do this in the shower with both of us naked. I’d want to run my fingers through your hair and hold your head while I make shallow thrusts into your hot mouth.”

  She gulped. “Um, we could do that.”

  “And I’d watch the water as it poured over your breasts. Maybe, I’d pinch your nipples because I know you don’t mind a shot of pain with your loving.”

  Charlotte closed her eyes, letting his deliberate words flow through her, over her in a gradual wash of arousal.

  “By then my patience would’ve hit breaking point. I’d probably haul you to your feet and press you against the wall of the shower. When I do, the tiles are cold against your back, a contrast to my mouth at your breasts, the heat of the water and my hands skimming your body.”

  Charlotte squeezed her legs together and felt her clit jump once. The friction wasn’t enough. She wanted…needed him, his hands, his mouth.

  “Are you still there, Charlotte?”

  “Yes.” Ms. Feisty did a lusty rock of her hips then pumped a fist. “I wish you were here.”

  He laughed. “Tomorrow night,” he promised. “I’m going to make love to you all night long.”

  “That’s hours away.” Charlotte realized she was pouting and gave herself a shake.

  “And meantime, you’re going to go to bed and think of me. You’re going to touch yourself until you come, and tomorrow, you’re going to tell me all about it.”

  “I…” What was the wretched man doing to her?

  “Do you have a vibrator?”

  “No.”

  “Maybe we’ll go shopping for one of those too,” he said in a silky voice. “I’m going to jump in the shower now. I’ll pick you up at ten tomorrow. We’ll get an early start and do some sightseeing when we hit Napier.”

  The phone clicked in her ear, but she didn’t move, her mind full of Ash. Just a little fun sex between consenting adults, she reminded herself. They came from different worlds, were at different places in their lives. No, she’d enjoy the moment, and when the time came, she’d move on with her life and embrace her independence.

  Edginess and arousal nipped at her heels while she went through the motions of eating and drinking. On reaching her bedroom, she gave in to her body’s insistent demand, throwing off her clothes and slipping between the sheets, naked. A few strokes of her fingers and she exploded into climax. Gradually, she floated down from the cloud of pleasure and stretched. That will work even better when we’re with Ash, Ms. Feisty purred.

  Ash arrived in a cab, promptly at ten. He jumped out, taking her bag from her and stowing it in the rear.

  A blue sedan with a dent in the passenger door pulled up to the curb with a shriek of brakes.

  “Excellent,” Ash muttered, settling in the rear seat beside her. “The reporters are getting smarter. Hide your face so they don’t get another photo. That’s if you want to do that,” he added. “It’s up to you.”

  “I prefer to keep under the radar,” she said quickly and buried her face against his chest. His arms wrapped around her until his scent and strength surrounded her. She sighed, a soft sound of appreciation. Gran had liked him, encouraged her to go out with him, so she figured she should enjoy every moment of this weekend. Besides, if she holed up at the house and made herself miserable, she wouldn’t put it past Gran to come back and haunt her.

  “Damn, they’re following. Vultures.”

  Charlotte peeked through the rear window for an instant and scowled at the vehicle trailing their cab. “Are we driving?”

  “No, we’re flying and hiring a car when we get there. I hope you don’t mind flying.”

  “My parents took me to the Gold Coast theme parks in Australia when I was six. I had a ball. Mind you, it helped that the air hostesses made a huge fuss over me, and I got to visit the flight deck.”

  “Good. I didn’t think to ask if you were okay with flying. It also has the added benefit of getting rid of my entourage of photographers.”

  The flight took less than an hour, and they were soon zipping toward the center of Napier.

  “Where are we staying?”

  “We have two nights at a hotel on the other side of Napier, then we’ll shift camp and move in with my client for Saturday and Sunday nights. They’re a bit out of Napier, near a town called Clare. We’ll fly back to Auckland on Monday morning.”

  “Sounds good.” Heck, it sounded awesome. Excitement ricocheted inside her like a misdirected ping-pong ball.

  “I thought we’d take care of our costumes for the party first, and after that we can have lunch at a vineyard and take a walk on the beach. We’ll have dinner at the hotel and then I intend to keep you busy in the bedroom. Any questions?”

  “Can I take my camera with me? What sort of costume do you think I should look for? And will you explain the wine to me because I find the entire topic baffling. Jenny and Rachel are always poking fun at me because I can’t tell the difference between a Chardonnay and a Sauvignon Blanc.”

  Ash sent her a lazy grin before directing his attention back to the road. “Definitely bring your camera. I’m not sure about the costume but something sexy, and the only good wine is the one you enjoy.”

  He never made her feel stupid, and she appreciated this trait in him. Well-pleased, she turned her attention to the passing scenery. “I love the straight lines of the art deco buildings. I’m itching to take photos,” she said as Ash drove past a fountain on the waterfront. Closer to the main street, the number of art deco buildings increased, and she wound down the window and went crazy with the shutter button.

  He laughed at her enthusiasm, the sound joyful and teasing. The lack of jeers and putdowns—the type of comments she’d come to expect from Elizabeth and her stepsisters—made her enjoyment in the day and his company increase.

  “We’ll try the art deco shop first. If they don’t have what we want, I’m sure they’ll point us in the right direction.”

  The elderly ladies manning the store were help
ful without being pushy.

  “That one,” Ash said, pointing to a straight apricot dress in a slip style. An apricot rose sat on the low waistband at hip level. It was a similar shade to the one she’d worn the night of the charity ball and the only decoration on the dress.

  Charlotte cocked her head as if considering Ash’s choice. “You don’t think it will clash with my hair?”

  “Oh, no, dear,” one of the ladies said. “Add a long string of pearls and wear your hair in a chignon. Paint your lips in a pale lipstick, highlight your eyes and you’ll look as if you belong in the thirties. And for you, sir, I think this white dinner jacket and these trousers. A white shirt and a black bow tie. Smooth your hair back with some styling cream, and you’ll make all the ladies’ hearts flutter.”

  Ash reached for Charlotte’s hand and pressed a kiss to her inner wrist. “This is the only lady I want to impress.”

  “You’re a lucky girl,” one woman said.

  “I keep telling her that. Sweetheart, do we have everything we need for the party?”

  “I think so.” Her stomach gurgled, and Charlotte clapped her hand over her belly, color flooding her cheeks. “Pardon me.”

  “Did you have breakfast this morning?”

  “Just coffee,” she said.

  “That’s everything, thanks,” Ash said, producing a credit card from his wallet.

  “I’ll pay—”

  “No, this is my treat,” Ash said. “You’re doing me a favor going with me to meet my client.”

  “But I—”

  “Please,” Ash said.

  Charlotte opened her mouth to argue, but he handed over the card to forestall further discussion. He took the packages from the woman serving them, snared Charlotte’s hand in his, tugging her out of the shop and back to the rental car.

  People they passed stared at them both. He was used to everyone gaping at his scars, and mostly, he didn’t pay any attention to them unless they edged too far into rudeness. Today it seemed different. There were no members of the press jumping out at him, and Charlotte was holding his hand, arguing about paying her share. Most of his girlfriends would have pouted at the lack of press and prettily requested more expensive jewelry. More than ever Ash was convinced Ivy and his grandmother maneuvering them together was a stroke of genius and the best thing that had ever happened to him.

  Throughout lunch and during their walk along the beach, he touched her constantly. He tugged on a lock of her silky red hair, admiring the way it glinted full of autumn colors under the summer sunshine. He kept his hand at the small of her back to guide her through doorways. Held her hand, his fingers laced with hers. And he kissed her whenever the urge struck him, savoring the softness of her lips beneath his, the way she responded to him, her eyes darkening with passion whenever he upped the ante and pushed into erotic territory.

  But lust and desire were weapons capable of backfiring, and they created chaos in him. His skin tingled where they touched, blood pounded through his veins, tightening his dick while his heart sang with the promise flickering between them.

  “I can’t remember the last time I walked along a beach,” Charlotte said. “It was when my father was still alive, I think.”

  “How old were you when he remarried?”

  “Thirteen,” Charlotte said, some of the life fading from her. “He died when I was sixteen.”

  “And you stayed with your stepmother?”

  “I had nowhere else to go. Dad was an only child, as was my mother. My sole remaining relation is a cousin who is still in Africa doing missionary work.”

  “Has Elizabeth always been so cold?”

  “She changed after my father died. Before then I remember lots of laughter.”

  “Grief affects people in different ways.”

  “Yes.” A shudder went through Charlotte. “It was a dark period for everyone. Things improved once Gran moved from Taupo to live with us.”

  “But?”

  Charlotte laughed and the sound held little humor. “Elizabeth made it clear I had to pull my weight since she needed to go back to work.”

  “Why didn’t you leave once you left school?”

  “Someone needed to look after Gran, and better me than a stranger, so I volunteered. It wasn’t a difficult decision because I loved her, and Gran made sure Elizabeth gave me a little money once I took full responsibility for the household.” Her eyes were glassy when she looked at him, but she didn’t cry.

  “I understand.” And he did. His father was healthy and independent, but if there came a time when he needed help, Ash would be there. He owed his father a lot. If his father had coddled him after his burns, let him withdraw from his friends and new experiences, he’d be a very different man now. “Would you like to go to the hotel? I’ve stayed there before. They have beautiful gardens and a spa pool with a view.”

  Only half an hour later, Charlotte padded from the en suite, dressed in a royal-blue bikini. His breath emerged in a whoosh. “You look stunning.”

  “I haven’t seen you clearly without a shirt before,” she said. “Turn around.”

  Bemused, he turned as she bid.

  She reached out to place the palm of her hand on his scarred torso. “You were lucky with your burns. I mean they must have been painful, but they’re not disgusting.”

  “They don’t bother you?”

  “I’d prefer you didn’t have them, only because I know how painful it is burning my hand on a hot pan. I don’t like thinking about how much you must have suffered, but I suspect their presence helped shape the man you are today.”

  “No one has ever said that to me before.” Except his father.

  She let her hand fall away from his scarred shoulder. “You promised to take me swimming.”

  His gaze roved the curves of her breasts, her trim waist and the flare of her hips. “You expect me to concentrate on swimming when you look like that?”

  “I look even better wet.” Her sassy wink zapped straight to his cock.

  Chapter Nine

  Charlotte fought to restrain her laughter and almost managed, keeping her merriment to an abrupt gurgle. The arrested expression on his face. The instant heat in his eyes. It warmed her from the top of her head to the tips of her bare toes. She thrust her feet into a pair of sandals and grabbed her bag, checking her sunglasses were inside. “Do we need to take towels with us?”

  He cocked his head as if he were trying to decipher her, to search the inner workings of her mind. “No, they have plenty down by the pool.” With a subtle caress at her hip, he ushered her from their room.

  “When are you going to tell me about the new campaigns you have for me to work on?”

  “We can talk about them on the flight home,” he said, his hooded eyes hinting at other ways of filling in their spare hours. “Relax and enjoy yourself. They’ll have activities at the house for guests, and hopefully the business discussions won’t take long. Your bikini is going to drive me crazy.”

  “Why? It’s very staid as far as bikinis go.”

  “I haven’t seen you in good light before either,” he said. “Very remiss of me. I don’t usually jump women in dark hotel rooms or make love to them in street alleys.”

  “I’m sorry for their loss. I found it most memorable, although I am looking forward to a bed. Can’t wait to grope you,” she added impishly. “Ever since our late-night phone call I’ve fantasized about what I could do with my mouth.”

  “Have mercy, woman.” His plea was a warm burst of air across her earlobe. “I don’t want to embarrass myself in public.”

  Her gaze slid across his chest, down the contours of his hard abs to the growing bulge behind his black swim shorts. “Smile and exert your charm. If they’re a woman, they might not notice your wee problem.”

  Ash snorted. “Not so much of the small. You’re a hard woman, Charlotte Dixon.”

  “I think you’ll find you’re the hard one, Ash Marlborough.”

  “I foresee a gigantic
splash in your future.”

  “You wouldn’t toss me in the pool.” She fluttered her eyelashes at him. “Would you?”

  “Minx, I should paddle your backside.” His gaze narrowed on her. “In fact I might just do that. Three, I think. Yes, I see three swats in your future.”

  The threat should have scared her or at least dampened her ardor, but instead, liquid heat dampened her folds. Giggles tickled her throat, and she swallowed them down. Each of her senses sharpened, the sun, the heady scent of greenery and the balmy air making her feel the range of possibilities in the day. Ash’s presence drove away every scrap of loneliness.

  Outside their private villa, they followed a hedge-lined path leading to the right. Gravel crunched beneath their feet and the musical tinkle of running water filled the air. The hedge came to an end, although the path continued. Mature trees, interspersed with tubs of purple and white flowers, provided cover from the sun.

  “I can hear water, but I can’t see where the sound is coming from.”

  “It’s a water feature,” he said, his hand at her back maintaining contact between them. “There’s another path on the other side of the hedge.”

  The trees thinned out, giving way to a large open area, studded with loungers plus tables and chairs and a kidney-shaped pool sunk into the ground. A grin broke out as she paused to study the view of the valley beyond.

  “Would you like to swim before relaxing in the spa pool?” he asked, indicating a spa pool and a small hut to their left. A pile of white-and-blue-striped towels were visible on shelves inside the hut.

  “Swim, I think.”

  “Good plan,” he said, glancing around for glimpses of other guests. “I need to deflate my erection before someone notices.”

  “Oh, I noticed,” she said, letting her hand trail lower to rest on his hip. “I’m aquiver with anticipation. Should I grab some towels?”

  “Please.” He dropped his phone and wallet on a sun bed, and she placed her bag on the lounger beside the one he’d chosen.

  Before she was halfway to the tiny hut, he dived into the pool with the merest hint of a splash. She watched him cut through the water, his strokes strong and smooth. It was fun teasing him, and she was pleased he wasn’t reacting in a negative manner. She’d yet to hear him raise his voice or be anything less than charming to the people they met, and the tabloid press gave him enough provocation. After living with Elizabeth, his sunny mood was a pleasant change.

 

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