Penmort Castle (Ghosts and Reincarnation #1)(69)

Abby’s brain, making clear where it stood in Abby’s battle to guard her heart, registered that it was nice walking with Cash that way. So nice, Abby’s brain decided it would walk that way with Cash anywhere. To his car after a dinner party or through the very fires of hell, it didn’t care.

When they made it to his car and he’d beeped the locks and opened her door, Abby had control over her wayward thoughts and she turned to him.

“I’m sorry about this evening.”

Cash’s chin dipped down to look at her.

“Why are you sorry?” he asked.

“Well,” Abby went on, pointing out what she thought was obvious, “because I was snotty to their daughter then broke their mirror, fell and lost consciousness in their bathroom and ended their evening with a visit from an ambulance.”

His arm went around her, his other hand coming up to fist in her curls, pulling her head gently back further to look at him.

“Suzanne’s a bitch and always has been. You handled yourself well, considering. You were within your right to walk across the room and slap her.”Abby emitted a soft gasp at his brutally honest words but he continued, his voice dipping softer, throatier and far, far sexier.

“You handled yourself beautifully,” he said and Abby felt a rush of warmth she had to fight back as he went on. “And as for apologising for your accident, darling, I’m beginning to realise that, regardless of how charming it is, I’m going to have to teach you to stop doing it.”

“What do you mean?” Abby asked.

“You apologise a lot,” he replied.

“No I don’t,” she returned.

She saw his smile before he remarked, “You argue a lot too.”

Abby stayed silent and Cash brought her closer as his face got to within a breath of hers.

“Earlier tonight I did something to you that I deeply regret. Now you’re standing in my arms apologising for my family being rude and for slipping on water. Do you not see that’s absurd?” he asked.

She had to admit, he made sense.

She wasn’t going to tell him that.

And she wasn’t going to give into the deeper warmth that invaded the region of her heart at him admitting to “deeply” regretting his earlier behaviour.

Instead, she told him, “I’m tired, Cash, can we just go home?”

He hesitated and she got the vague feeling he was disappointed before his arms got tighter and he lifted up to kiss her forehead.

“Of course, love,” he said there and looked down at her again. “which home would you prefer?”

She wanted to go to her home and her bed and her warm, fluffy cat who was evil in a cute way, not evil in a scary, murdering ghost way, but she knew that wasn’t smart.

“Yours,” she answered.

His mouth touched hers lightly, he moved back and guided her safely into the car, slammed the door, rounded the hood, got in, turned the ignition and they were away.

And Abby couldn’t help but feel, until Penmort Castle was lost in the distance, that the whole building watched their departure.

* * * * *

Her body was rolled onto its back and she felt a strong knee pressing insistently between her legs.

Her eyes opened and in the shadows she saw Cash’s face disappear in her neck right before his mouth slid along its length. His hand smoothed up her hip, taking her nightgown with it, then went under it and up, to close with intent around her breast.

“Cash,” she whispered.

At the sound of his name, his thumb slid across her nipple and his head came up.

Fire shot from her nipple to between her legs and Cash murmured, “How are you feeling?”

“I was feeling great because I was asleep,” she informed him, her voice still husky from slumber.

His lips touched hers and he suggested against her mouth, “Let’s see about making you feel even better.”

Then he went about the business of achieving that aim.

Spectacularly.

* * * * *

Abby was on top, straddling Cash who was deep inside her. Her back was arched, one of his arms wound around her waist, his other one high at her back, fingers curled under the joint of her arm. His head was bent and his lips were drawing her nipple inside his mouth with a sharp, delicious pull when her hands fisted convulsively in his hair and she came.

Hard.

It was so wild, beautiful and out-of-control, her hips, as if they had a mind of their own, ground into his, the walls around the heart of her flexing tightly. She felt him rigid, deep inside her and it was as if her whole being existed between her legs.

His head moved away from her breast and if she’d been aware of them, she would have wanted to halt the telltale rasping moans that accompanied her cl**ax.

Before she was through, he twisted, she was on her back and he was driving into her, deeply, almost violently, his hand curled around the crown of her head, the fingers of his other hand going between them and she gasped aloud when he touched her. Her orgasm exploded anew, bigger, wilder and she cried out his name before her head came up and her teeth sank into the flesh at his shoulder.

His hands moved to the backs of her thighs, pulling them high against his sides and he thrust harder, faster and she heard his sharp intake of breath before his hand fisted in her hair, yanking her head back, his open mouth sought hers and she blissfully accepted the deep sigh of his cl**ax.