The Highest Bidder (6 page)

Chapter Ten

‘TAKE ME HOME,’ SHE whispered. ‘You have to do my bidding. I’m the highest bidder.’

Nick shook his head, smiling as he drove her car through the light rain that had started. It was late afternoon and the car smelled like sex. Which turned her on.

‘You were the only bidder,’ he reminded her.

‘Yeah, what was that about? That makes zero sense.’

He turned on to her street and parked in the driveway. Casey had never been so happy to be such a short distance from the Manchester Hotel.

He cut the engine and turned to her. Her panties were sticking out of her purse and cool air was drifting up under her skirt. She wanted him again. It was an almost violent need.

She grabbed him and kissed him hard, tugging his hair so a rumble sounded in his chest.

‘I told you that would happen,’ he said.

‘Bullshit,’ Casey said. She unlocked the door and kicked it wide before remembering her “bare ass naked under her skirt” status. Hopefully, none of her neighbours were watching. ‘I smell a rat. A very short but adorable rat named Annie.’

‘Five thousand dollars!’ He laughed, almost chasing her up the walkway. Casey let out a squeal and when he managed a just-rough-enough swat on her ass, she shrieked like a lunatic.

New love …

It hit her like a fist but she kept going. She refused to let herself freak out.

‘It was my five thousand dollars,’ she said to him, barely managing to shove her key in the door before he pressed himself up against her and hustled her in.

‘No. It was mine.’

She shook her head and dropped her purse by the door. ‘Nope. Yours is in my purse. I’ll be writing them a cheque. I bought you, boy.’ She tugged his collar and pushed big burly Nick to the wall. Then she smashed her body to his, feeling the hardness of his chest under her breasts and the rising ridge of his cock to her pussy lips.

‘There’s way too much fabric between us,’ he said.

‘I agree.’ Casey yanked his tie loose and started on the buttons.

‘It’ll be faster if we just–’

She kissed him fiercely, running her tongue over his plump kiss-bruised lips and broke free to ditch her skirt and her blouse and everything else in her way in an untidy heap.

Naked, they hit the sofa with a soft exhalation of air and more urgent kisses.

‘Turn around.’

‘What?’

‘Turn. Around.’ His eyes were darker blue when he was insistent.

She turned her back to him thinking he’d get up behind her. Fuck her doggie style. Instead, he pulled her so she straddled his face. His charming pink tongue darted out and she watched on hands and knees as he started to lap at her in soft, gentle strokes.

Her hair tickled her face and she sighed, not sure if she was more turned on by the heated softness of his tongue on her clit – dragging slowly so she felt the urge to lower herself more and prod him on – or the sight of him.

He was hard against her cheek and she inhaled the salted scent of their coupling on his cock. The skin, silk and steel against her face. Perfection.

Just to make him crazy, she pressed the damp tip of her tongue – held rigid and still – to the slit at the top. The ocean-flavoured drop of precome made her cave though. Along with the noise he made – half desperation, half aggression.

She sucked his cock into her mouth slowly, savouring every salty inch. Her tongue swirled and played over the ridges of veins and the smooth sheath. She managed to get him all the way in by relaxing her throat and it was then that he clamped his mouth over her pussy, applying perfect suction and the slippery nudges of his tongue pushed her over the edge.

She came with a long moan stifled by the length of him in her mouth, in her throat.

Nick thrust up under her, once, twice and she prepared herself to swallow him down the way he was swallowing her. He continued to probe and lick, extracting every sugary spasm from her orgasm. Casey, played her tongue over him and felt him driving up just a bit more – a controlled but chaotic rhythm that said he was close. So fucking close.

Her fingers tickled over his balls, her hair brushing his thighs. She bobbed her head, willing him to give it up but he whispered, ‘Let me up.’

She thought about arguing, but the thought of him fucking her, penetrating her – taking her –won out and she moved for him.

Nick dragged her to the floor and pressed her breasts and belly to the sofa.

‘I love your back when I fuck you like this,’ he said in her ear, his tongue sliding along her throat, smothering her pulse. ‘I love the way you look – like a painting.’

He gripped her hips hard and drove into her – rough without preamble.

Possessive

She almost came when the thought flitted through her head, a luminescent butterfly of a thought.

He fucked her in short thrusts that banged her belly to the cushions. His fingers reached around to find her – firm and slippery. Small brutal circles brought her closer and closer and Casey ground her clit to his whirling fingers.

Nick’s voice had come down to a rasp. He nibbled her earlobe hard enough to make her nipples pebble and her cunt flex. But it was when he growled, ‘Mine,’ as he came that she lost it.

Casey came with him, her body splayed against the sofa, her hair tangled around her face. All she could hear was his breath and her heart and the blood banging between them as they came. And for one second she wasn’t sure where he started and she ended.

And that was fine by her.

‘Read this,’ she said, putting her feet on the coffee table. They were freshly showered and dressed in sweats. He looked cute in her sweats. Thank God she was tall and liked to keep some XLs in the house. Or he’d look like a ballerina.

The thought made her snort.

Nick took her phone and read.

‘Holy shit.’

‘I told you that they’d bid on you.’

‘But–’

‘But my best friend, Annie, decided Cupid also had to be like a mob enforcer. She told all the women not to bid on you or else.’

‘Or else what?’

Casey shrugged. ‘Who knows? She’s such a busybody, she probably has dirt on most of the women there. She was bluffing and they bought it.’

‘Wow,’ he said, laughing and shaking his head.

Casey sighed, ‘She’s protective of me.’

‘I can imagine.’ He took another sip of wine and toed her foot with his. She’d even seen fit to lend him a pair of her favourite cold weather socks. Wool men’s hunting socks with a khaki green stripe at the top. Add one of her many oversized promotional charity sweatshirts and he looked lazy, laid back and lickable.

‘I don’t need it – the protection,’ she said, pushing her shoulders back.

He just looked at her, smiling slightly.

‘At least not any more. I finally have … moved forward some, I guess.’

‘I hope that means me.’ He took her hand.

‘It means you.’ She squeezed.

‘So, what’s next? I’m all yours. Five thousand dollars worth.’

‘Ah, I like the sound of that. I’m thinking order in Italian from the place up the street and then …’ Casey toed the crotch of his sweatpants. Her feet were sheathed in rugged cotton Fair Isle socks, they looked very festive stimulating his cock.

‘And then?’ Nick put his wine down and pushed her back on the sofa, kissing her neck, nibbling her clavicle so she shivered.

‘And then I want to see you all nekkid again,’ she snickered. ‘To make sure I got my money’s worth.’

Nick eyed her, suddenly serious. He touched her lips, stroked her cheekbone. ‘Did you, Casey? Did you get your money’s worth?’

He sounded so worried her heart broke a little. When she let herself be calm and think about it, she could imagine a business with him. Dinners with him. Reading a book silently next to him. Hikes and travelling and lots of laughter and lots of sex. She wasn’t brave enough to say it all yet. Not yet, but close. She was getting there. But he needed to know something, something of how she felt of him.

Casey looked him in the eye as she pulled his face forward, running her thumbs over the stubble blooming on his strong jaw. ‘You, Nick Murphy … you are priceless.’

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