Thigh High (26 page)

C
arrie dropped her fleece to the ground but left her T-shirt on. Even though the sun shone on the clearing, it was still late September. Besides, Matt looked more interested in her body below the waist for the moment.

His gaze bored into hers as she settled her behind into the slinglike swing. Instantly, the seat molded to her bottom, the hole in perfect position to expose her secret flesh. Matt chuckled deep and throaty as he clasped her hips and rocked her to and fro in the swing.

“Put your legs up,” he said.

She tilted back and lifted her legs. He grasped her ankles and set her heels into padded stirrups. She gasped at the sensation. Cool air tickled her pussy as Matt made certain she was comfortable in the odd position.

She soon felt completely at ease as her weight settled into the sling. Whoever had designed the swing had thought of comfort and ease of movement.

“I've been to some clubs where swings were in use, but I didn't see anything like this. What a great design,” he said with admiration in his voice. He inspected the stirrups again. Ran his hands from her heels, down her legs past her knees to her buttocks. “You're comfortable?”

“I'm wet and wide open and horny as hell. Now get busy!” Her frustration with the whole setup had her edgy. She needed filling and she needed it now. She wasn't sure how long she could stay in this position and she didn't have time for a male's interest in mechanics.

He chuckled and ran an experimental finger along her open outer lips. She jerked at his touch, inflamed all over again.

Fire, she felt fire on his finger. Fire that traced her from her clit to her ass button, skirting the deeper, moister flesh she needed touched the most.

“You're so lovely. Pink and wet and open. For me, Carrie. Just for me.” His voice firmed on the last words and all she could do was nod yes. “Say it,” he demanded.

“Just for you, Matt Crewe, just for you.”

His eyes narrowed. “Now, I'm going to lick you the way I want to.”

“Please.” She wriggled in the seat, wanting him to just get to it!

He knelt and she sighed with anticipation when his large hands cupped her bottom. He tilted her to his mouth like a chalice and drank from her.

The fire that had toyed with her flesh exploded into a conflagration the instant his mouth settled on her. She cried out, startling the finch out of the tree, as Matt suckled her clit gently, unerringly coaxing the small bud to reveal itself.

Carrie bucked against his mouth as best she could, but the position made movement next to impossible. She felt completely at his mercy, which didn't bother her in the least.

Matt was a kind, benevolent lover and attended to her needs with gentleness. She relaxed and let him lick and please her and himself. The swing moved gently as he worked her sensitive flesh.

Finally she came in a rush of sensation so intense she imploded, her pussy drenching his mouth and chin with a mad gush. He lapped at the flowing juices and settled her with a firm palm on her lower belly to hold her. Mad with orgasm, she crooned and howled as Matt coaxed her and held her on the peak for as long as he dared.

The blood drained out of her legs as her orgasm waned and she felt lightheaded.

“Get me down,” she gasped as her inner pulses ebbed.

He worked quickly and silently to release her heels. Her legs felt rubbery and out of control as she set her feet on the leaf-strewn ground.

Matt helped her stand, holding her in one arm while he unhooked the seat of the swing. It fell open, revealing the truth. In an intricate series of folds, the swing had a dual purpose. When open, it made a thick quilted blanket. When folded correctly, the quilt formed the swing seat.

“Ingenious,” he said. Then he flapped the quilt out and settled it on the ground at Carrie's feet. She slid onto it in a heap, grateful to whoever had designed it.

She settled back on the quilt, and response rose at the sight of his unrelieved erection. The splendid purple head of his cock speared the air, so stiff it reached his navel. Wide, perfect, the shaft was roped with heavy veins, the root nestled in a patch of curls. Her mouth watered, but her legs were still wobbly and she couldn't trust they'd even let her crouch over him.

“Bring your cock up here.” She patted her lips.

With an eager grin, Matt knelt beside her. With a worm's view of his cock and balls, she did a slow slide with her tongue from his tight hard sac up the heaviest vein to the weeping head.

He tasted sweet, salty, hot and ready. He shifted to give her room to set her head between his legs. She grinned up into his handsome face while she took each hard nut into her mouth. She sucked gently on each ball in turn, loving the shivers that ran through him.

He groaned at the wet contact of her mouth, the tickle of her tongue as it swirled and darted from one side of his sac to the other.

She played and cajoled and chuckled, sending shock waves up his body.

“Move up,” he pleaded. “I need to feel your mouth all over.”

That was the cue she'd wanted to hear. Rising to her elbow, she opened her throat and slid down his cock as far as she could go, drenching him. She rolled her tongue in swirls around him while her fingers played against his sac.

He roared his approval in a rain of love words that coaxed and seduced her.

With another wild groan, he pulled out of her mouth, slid on protection and mounted her in a deep spearing motion that took the breath out of her lungs.

Heaven! The heavy push–pull of his cock along her walls dragged her into another come immediately. Her clit, sticky and full, accepted each press and release as she tensed around him just before tipping over the precipice.

Her orgasm triggered his, and he reared up on his haunches, pulling her up with him. He surged deep into her and held her still while he spewed.

“Oh, Carrie, you're…love you…” he groaned, the rest of his words lost to her.

They collapsed together on the quilt, too sated to speak for a moment. Matt reached for the edge of the quilt and pulled it up over her gently. Then he tucked her head under his chin and rested in the quiet.

The sky above was still clear and she wondered where the dark clouds had gone. Surely they'd have hit landfall by now. But the blue overhead seemed to go on for miles.

Matt's heart thudded under her ear, and contentment rose from her belly into her heart.

“What was that you mentioned about clubs?” Her journalist mind kicked in.

Matt looked rueful. “I've been researching sex clubs all across the country.”

This was interesting. “Learn anything?”

“Just that I'll never wear a dog collar or get off giving orders.” He grimaced.

“Leather hot pants might be cute,” she teased. “I wouldn't mind seeing you in those.” A hard edge of jealousy spiked at the idea of how many other women he'd had in these clubs. Experienced women. Wild women. Women who knew more about pleasing a man than she did. “So, how, ah, how many women did you do in these clubs?”

Great. Now her insecurity was out there where he couldn't miss it.

He snorted. “None. I was there to observe.” His gaze went serious. “I haven't met anyone like you, Carrie. Not anywhere, not any time.”

“So, I started out as a research subject? Just another woman who frequented a sex club.”

“For all of thirty seconds. As soon as I got close to you, my mind went foggy and all I knew was that I had to have you.” She remembered the intense focus he brought to her. It was like nothing she'd ever seen before.

“I had much the same reaction, but I fought it hard. My ambition's been all-consuming these last couple of months.”

“Which is probably why you've gone in and out of the fog. You had a lot riding on staying sharp, so you fought harder than I did.”

She shuddered. “Falling in and out of mental alertness was disquieting from my side of things,” she said. “But I'm relieved I'm not dealing with a permanent chemical or nutritional imbalance. So, do you think once we leave we'll be back in charge of ourselves?” This incredible urge for sex might be gone too. “Will I feel the same way about you when I leave?”

He gathered her close. “I hope so, because I'm crazy about you, Carrie.” He winced.

“Crazy might be the operative word, Matt.” She pulled out of his arms. “I'm in over my head with this stuff. How can we trust what we're feeling if we slide in and out of our minds?”

“I don't know. Maybe we should ask Faye. Or Liam. He's pretty cool with what goes on here, but he lives away from the house, so he's got a clearer perspective.”

“Good idea. What will you write about the house?”

“Not much. I won't divulge the name. The idea of the bachelor auctions deserves to be explained, but I'm not out to destroy Faye or the house. Especially not now.” He took a quick glance around the clearing.

“Why not now?”

He picked up her other leg and started another massage. He had marvelous hands, strong but gentle. She settled in to enjoy the sensation of being served. “When I spoke with Liam, I got the lowdown on the mansion. The reasons for Faye's decision to run the auctions make it difficult to mess things up for her.”

“You like her.”

“So do you.”

She bit her lip. He was right. There was something forthright about a woman who understood the difficulty of business-women having any kind of private sex life and doing something about it. Not everyone would approve. Not everyone would see the need for a place of respite and relaxation for powerful, career-oriented women. And certainly not many people would be able to provide a place like Perdition House.

“You have to admire a woman with a head for business like Faye Grantham.”

“Yes, well.” He cleared his throat. “Maybe it isn't Faye's business sense that we're admiring.”

“What do you mean?” Her belly dropped because she wasn't sure she was ready to learn everything he knew.

“She's getting advice from a great aunt. An aunt named Belle Grantham.”

“So?”

“Belle Grantham isn't exactly…” He trailed off and went red. Shook his head as if he couldn't believe what he was about to say. “She built the house. Back in 1911.”

1911. The waltz music in the gazebo, the clothes the dancing couple wore…. Her belly dropped again.

“She isn't exactly alive, is she? That's what you're leading up to.” She couldn't believe she'd said it, but the relief on his face made her breath catch. “Oh no!” She scrambled backward out of his grasp. He caught her ankles easily and dragged her back, worry etched into his features.

She sat up to face him. “It's more than shadows and images twirling in the breeze.” More than the figures carved into the fireplace mantel and icy fingers in the draperies.

He enveloped her in his arms, rocked her side to side in a comforting gesture. “This mansion is full of spirits who don't know what will happen if the house is bulldozed.” His voice rushed through her head as if he was afraid to stop speaking. As if he had to get it all out at once. She shivered and accepted his comfort, afraid her heart would pound out of her chest.

He tilted his head so he could look at her. She calmed. If Matt could handle this, she could too.

“If Faye can't afford to keep the house,” he said, “she'll have to sell. These bachelor auctions provide enough money to keep the place going. But she's on a shoestring until her other business gets established. That will take awhile.”

“Her second store location.” TimeStop, a fitting name for a business selling vintage clothes to support the home of a bunch of sex-starved dead hookers and johns
from the last century!

“Yes. That's why I decided not to mention the house by name.”

Hardly sex starved
, came a miffed feminine voice inside her head.
Now that we have all this fun with visitors, we do quite nicely in the orgasm department.
Crap! That sounded like a reasonable bit of conversation. Her world tilted and Carrie fought a faint. She put her head down, felt her blood rush. “I just heard a voice responding directly to my thoughts.” This was too creepy for words.

“Take a few deep breaths,” Matt coaxed.

Exhale. Inhale. Hold. Release.

Better. The blood stopped rushing and her heart returned to a more normal pace.

“And you've all figured out that I'm here to expose the secret,” she said, talking to the voice in her head and to Matt at the same time.

“They probably knew before you arrived,” Matt said.

That sent a chill to her bones. A chill that came from inside her, not from some unseen spirit lurking around them.

Her head stopped spinning and she chanced a look up at him. He smiled and palmed her shoulders. “I wanted to expose the bogus charity auction,” she said. “Making these women think the money they spend is for charity is deceitful.”