“Totally mind-blowing?”
“That’s two words.”
“Fucking fantastic?”
“Nope. You really can’t count, can you?”
“Amazing.”
“Better.”
“I never meant to mix business and pleasure, Roisin.” The way his soft tones sent a swirl of warmth straight to the base of her stomach made her hug her knees up to her chest. “And I’m so sorry about your family, everything.”
“Don’t. Why’ve you rung?”
“My internet went down. I couldn’t email.”
“Really?”
“No. Not really.” His sigh traveled straight down from her ear to somewhere deep inside her. “I just thought I might need an excuse.”
“So the shagging wasn’t to soften me up? Or because you felt sorry for me or…”
“The shagging was because I had this deep, irresistible urge to rip your panties off the moment I saw you.”
“The first moment?”
“Yup, when you stood there with your glass of wine behind that bar looking all prim and proper I just wanted to leap over and shag you senseless.”
“Really?” She wriggled deeper onto the bed, kicked the laptop to the bottom.
“When I touched you I thought my cock was going to explode. I wanted to slip my hand up your thigh to check your pussy was as wet as I knew it would be.”
“You thought all that while I was pouring you a pint?” The warm feeling was spreading through her body.
“Mmm, it got worse once I’d touched your knee, and now I’m imagining you lying in bed.”
“Really?” She should be able to say something more intelligent, something sexy, just anything. She wriggled self-consciously, feeling like he was watching her.
“You’re lying naked on your crisp white cotton sheets and I’m lying next to you.”
“Mmm.” Intelligent words, it seemed, had now run out altogether. “Well, actually I’ve got a nightdress on.”
She heard a groan. “That makes it even better.” There was a long silence. “Okay, I’ve gotten over my nightdress fantasy, for now.” She felt a smile twitch the corners of her mouth. “I want to kiss you, Roisin. I love the feel of your soft lips under mine, the way you softly part them so that I can slip my tongue inside and taste you.” She could feel her lips parting at his words. “That first kiss did something strange to me. It wasn’t just a kiss; it was a promise.” The deep, dark words seeped into her, sending spears of longing between her thighs. “When we were standing in that dark spot against the wall, all I could see was a shadow, tempting me closer. You were tempting me, you were asking me to take control, to pin you against that wall, weren’t you? Tell me, please, Roisin. I want to hear you say it.”
“Yes.” She snaked her tongue over dry lips. “I wanted you to kiss me; I needed to feel your hands on me.”
“You tasted so sweet, and you were wrapping your fingers tight in my hair, and all I could think of was how it would feel to have your fingers wrapped around my cock. I slipped my fingers inside you, and you were so wet I wanted to have you there and then; that sweet pussy of yours was made for my fingers, and you rode them, rode and gripped them, riding my hand. As I sucked your tongue I could taste you, and it was almost like I was sucking that tender, swollen clit and tasting your juices. You know how hard I was for you then, Roisin?”
“I know.” She forced the words out, rocking her hips as the ache grew between her thighs.
“I’m hard for you now, Roisin, are you wet for me? Is this turning you on? Touch yourself; touch that sweet, wet pussy for me.”
How could he do this to her? How could just the sound of his voice whispering dirty things in her ear be making her so damp, so hot that she felt like a gooey, needy mass of want? A rush of juices spilled onto her hand as she teased her swollen labia apart with the tip of her finger, a wave of pleasure instantly rippling through her, and she moaned with pleasure, sliding her finger farther inside, rubbing her thumb gently against her swollen clit.
“Do you remember what happened next?”
Her knees dropped wider apart. “Tell me.” She slowly slipped the finger deeper into her moist cunt, closing her eyes, resisting the urge to drop the mobile.
“I had you on those stairs; I couldn’t resist that smell of you as you ran up. You were flicking your skirt so that I could see your panties, and I could still remember the taste of you on my fingers, and I needed to taste you properly. I want my tongue inside you now, Roisin, want to slip inside you, lap up your juices. Lick your fingers for me, taste what I tasted, and pretend I’m doing it. Lick them for me.”
She groaned. “I can’t.”
“Please, Roisin.”
Shit. She rocked her hips, curling her finger against her G-spot, feeling the quiver of new sensation. The groan in her ear made her pussy clench. “I want to hear you come for me. How many fingers have you got inside? Two?”
She gasped. “One.”
“Put two in, slide two in nice and deep. Oh God, I can hear you; you’re so slick, so fucking wet I can hear you sliding in and out.”
“What are you doing?”
“I’ve got my fingers curled around my cock for you, and all I can think of is your mouth on me. I love the way you suck me.” She could hear the sound of his hand sliding up and down his shaft and she shut her eyes, could picture him so clearly he could be there with her.
“I’m so close, darling; I want us to come together.” His voice had a rasp to it now, a rasp that was making her push her fingers harder, faster. His breath was quickening to match hers, echoing in her ear as though he was right there in the room, watching her, his hard cock throbbing. She wanted to see him come, wanted to see his sperm shoot out; see what it was like as it shot deep inside her. “Rub your clit with your other hand, fuck yourself.”
The phone dropped on the pillow next to her, his harsh, unsteady breathing still in her ear. The coolness of her touch hit her clit, and her pussy closed around her fingers. “Ouu shit.” A flutter of soft spasms was building high inside her. “I want to see you come, Saul.”
He groaned. “Do you want me to come over your stomach while my fingers are playing in your pussy?” His voice was uneven, breaking along with his self-control.
“I want to see you shooting out, imagine how it feels when you do that inside me.”
“Shit, Roisin, I can’t hold back much longer.”
Nor could she. The thought of his hot sperm hitting her stomach, of the smell of him all around her, was making her fingers work harder and faster.
“I’m fucking you with one hand, fucking you as fast as I’m tugging at this big cock. Can you imagine that?”
She could, and she was coming, a shattering spread of feeling shooting around her fingers, filling her pussy as bright pinpricks of light lit the back of her eyelids, her breath uneven as her body rocked with the rolling wave inside her. She could hear his gasp, his matching groan, could picture him coming all over her as her cunt still fluttered around her fingers.
“You’re going to be the death of me, girl.” His voice was still unsteady and she rolled onto her side, nearer to the phone, not wanting to reach out and pick it up.
“Mmm.”
“You’ve still got your fingers in there, haven’t you?”
“Mmm, I can’t move.”
“If I was there I’d move you, flip you onto your stomach, and…”
“Oh, stop it, Saul. I can’t. Don’t set me off again.” Okay, she only half meant it, but she felt so bloody wiped out. His laugh seemed to reach down, making her fingers twitch, and she pulled her damp hand from between her thighs.
“You’re a bad girl.”
“You’re badder.” She could hardly talk, the words slipping from her mouth just to keep him there because she didn’t want him to go yet.
“That isn’t a word.” His voice was soft; she pulled the mobile tighter to her ear, wanting to let that deep rumble of his resonate inside her. “You’re tired, you need to sleep, darling.”
“Mmm, I do.”
“I’ll come tomorrow, we’ll talk, okay?”
“What we gonna talk about now?” She stifled a yawn, spreading her leg over the spot where his body should be, pulling the pillow he’d used closer. “But you’ll come anyway?”
“Oh, you won’t be able to keep me away. How about you make me lunch? I’ve got an appointment first thing.”
“Mmm.” A trace of his musky scent reached out to her and she pulled the pillow closer, letting the woody, citrus scents seep into her mind.
“Night darling, sweet dreams.”
And it was almost as though he was there, almost as though he was kissing her on the neck and the warmth of his body was wrapped around hers. Almost.
Chapter 12
The cold dampness of early morning wrapped around her as she saddled up the horse. This had always been her favorite time of the day to ride. Just as the birds were waking, and the rest of the world was still asleep. It was fresh, virgin air that took your breath away, that carried the promise of the new day.
She pulled the girth up another notch and sprang up onto the saddle, gathering the reins decisively. The horse sensed her impatience, breaking into a trot the moment his hooves hit the dew-sodden grass. She sat deep and he danced sideways briefly before rocking into a canter that turned to a gallop as she eased her weight forward. They cleared the first fence effortlessly, the horse settling into a steady rhythm that she could lose herself in. She knew this land like the back of her hand, had ridden here more days than she could remember, but she’d almost forgotten what it was like to let go, hand over control, and let the horse take her. It seemed like a lifetime since the last time she had done this. In those days it had been simple, easy to just jump onto the ponies bareback with only a halter rope in her hand and trust them to take control, take care of her.
Her eyes smarted from the cold air and her hair whipped across her face, but she pushed on, taking the final fence before slowing to turn on to the track that led down to the river. The horse dropped into a steady jog. She’d told Saul she could walk away from all this, that she’d close the door and leave the keys behind and she had thought she could. But this place was her heart—it was in her blood—and walking away would be leaving more than memories behind; it would be leaving a part of herself that she was afraid she might never find again. She slipped from the saddle as the ground became uneven when they neared the edge of the water, let the horse pick his way down the bank.
“What you doing down here so early?”
The soft voice made her jump, then he stepped away from the tree he’d been leaning against. James. Doing his big cat act.
She let her eyes drift over him, gave herself time to gather her thoughts back from where they’d strayed. He was lean; almost sleek she’d say, if you could apply that word to a man. Every part of him toned and defined, but not in a bulky, muscle-bound way, more sinew and quiet strength. “I could ask you the same; I’m not used to having company at this time of day.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not stalking you.” He grinned as heat flooded her face, capable of reading her mind as well as her body, it seemed.
“I like to ride in the morning. It helps me think.” She sat down on the bank, half expecting him to sit next to her, but he didn’t. “Get my head straight.”
“He wouldn’t have asked me to join the two of you if he didn’t really care, you know.” Which wasn’t at all what she expected him to say. “I think he was digging for answers of his own before he dared admit to himself what was going on.”
“Oh.”
“With Bianca he never even stopped to question it. He didn’t care enough.”
“Maybe it was just because he was younger, cared more?”
“Nope.” He took a step nearer the water. “They were completely wrong for each other; it just took a lot of banging his head against the wall before he’d admit it. He can be a bloody stubborn git, you know.”
“Oh, I think I already worked that one out.”
“Has he asked you to stay?”
“Yeah.” She studied her fingernails.
“Then I’d give it a whirl, babe. Nothing comes with a guarantee but you have to try it and see sometimes.”
She laughed, looked up, and he was actually smiling. Or at least his hard eyes were crinkling around the edges, and the corners of his mouth were tipped up. “You like him, don’t you, James?”
“There’s a lot to like, if you give him a chance. Maybe you could even persuade him to like himself again.”
“What does that mean?”
“Whatever you want, darling. He’s tried to make things right, he’s decent.”
“I know.”
“Not that he ever really did anything wrong.”
“Hmm, maybe.”
“Gotta be worth something, eh?” He took a step back up the bank, put a hand out, and hauled her to her feet. “And besides, if you go I might be out of a job.” He winked, then his hard lips brushed against hers and he strode up the bank as smooth as you like, his stride eating up the ground.
Shit, he probably was a panther. No one crept up on her like that without her noticing. What did they call them—shape-shifters? She shook her head and grinned to herself, then twitched the horse’s reins. He reluctantly lifted his head from the grass he’d been picking at and took a step closer. She led him up the bank, paused for a second before mounting, and looked around. No sign of James at all. She left her reins long, and nudged the horse into a loping stride. Maybe she’d just imagined the whole conversation. Except her lips could still feel the dry brush of his mouth.
She’d wanted Saul gone, had wanted him out of her life when she’d found out there was more to this than he’d admitted to. But maybe he hadn’t lied; maybe, like James said, he had tried to make things right, things that had never really been his fault in the first place. Maybe she’d been at fault pushing him like that; maybe she didn’t blame him for storming off. He wasn’t the type of man to be bullied and she had known that, which could be why she’d pushed him that bit too far, to make him go. And then she didn’t have to make the decision herself. But he’d known where Toby was heading so long ago, and just watched. He’d taken advantage of the fact that her husband was a weak-willed fool. But then Toby was no better, she supposed; he’d been betting to win, hadn’t he? He’d been greedy, but he just hadn’t been clever enough. Not like Saul.
He’d told her not to go—not asked, told. She grinned. Did the man ever ask for anything? She didn’t want to go, and she didn’t want him to go either, if she was honest. She felt safe when he was there, like there was something to lean on. Something solid.
He wanted her to stay, and everything in her was screaming yes, except for that tiny bit of her brain that was common sense. The bit that told her she was fighting a battle she could never win, that maybe she’d finally met a man she felt she could rely on, but he was a man who wasn’t in a place where he could make promises. Who couldn’t hang around.
She knew she couldn’t resist him; last night proved that. Even two-hundred-odd miles away he still had the power to turn her on, could have her whole body humming, which had to mean something, didn’t it? Maybe she did have to try it and see. If he still wanted her to. And she wouldn’t know that until he turned up for his lunch.
She gathered up the reins and nudged the horse with her heels. One last gallop before she headed home. One last adrenaline rush to clear the cobwebs from her head, then she’d find out if she had it in her to give it a whirl.
***
“I unloaded all that stuff on you last night thinking I’d never see you again.” She pushed a mug of coffee across the table
, wishing he’d sit down and stop that “looking at her” thing he did. He wasn’t supposed to be back yet and the hat hair from riding, along with the gear, wasn’t a good look. Or a good smell. And she didn’t want to be faced with what she’d said in the emails. That was just awkward.
“I gathered that.”
“So now it’s a bit…” She paused. It was more than a bit; it was full-on embarrassing. Along with him knowing that last night she’d been finger-fucking for England. To put it crudely, which she didn’t normally. “What?” He was looking at her in a way she wasn’t sure she liked. As if he was reading her mind.
“You’re thinking about last night, aren’t you?” He grinned and took a step closer. “I like the thought of you getting all horny when I’m talking dirty to you.”
“Stop it, Saul, I don’t want…” What had she been about to say, that she didn’t want it just to be about sex? But it was. And it was better that way. Not relying on someone, not putting all your eggs in one basket. She wouldn’t be in this mess now if they hadn’t all relied on her dad, if she hadn’t relied on Toby.
“What don’t you want?”
She didn’t know.
“None of this is your fault, Roisin, you’ve just been unlucky.”
“Oh yeah. Maybe I just need a break from all this, from all this shagging and then I can get my head straight.”
He laughed, which wasn’t what he was supposed to do. “How can shagging stop you thinking straight?”
She glared. “It does, stop laughing at me. You’re in my space, in my head, and it confuses me, right?”
“I’m not in your head if it’s just sex, Roisin.”
He sat down, and he stopped looking at her and started to trace circles on the table with one finger. “I went to see my mother this morning.”
“Your mom?” Well, that had effectively stopped her worrying about having him in her head. She sat down and stared at him, as though it might help. Which it didn’t. She could ask what, why, when. Or she could keep quiet for once and bite her tongue and wish she could read his mind.
Riding High Page 16