Free Southern Spirits by Edie Bingham Page B

himself until his shaft pressed at her sex. Val lifted her rear, opening her flesh to the thick hardness, the bristly hair at his groin rubbing against her inflamed wetness. He slid in, thankfully slowly, filling her up, more and more, pushing overpowering sensations from her, with none of the pain she’d heard would come from her first time. Val let her eyes roll in the back of her head and her mouth open in a staggered gasp, her fingers digging into his biceps.
    They lay joined together, looking into each other’s eyes with such wonder, such lust and disbelief.
    And then Enrique began thrusting into her, supporting her legs. She felt every inch of him, every contour as he plunged deep into her, ripples of delight running across her skin like water. He moaned, sounding lost to the pleasure, and beganwithdrawing slowly until only a part of him was inside Val, before sliding back in again. It was exquisite.
    Her hands on his shoulders now, her excitement building, she slapped him lightly. ‘Faster! N– No time now –’
    Enrique, breathing more rapidly, quickened his rhythm to an urgent gallop.
    Suddenly, outside the door, she heard her papa. ‘Valentina? Where are you, girl?’
    Enrique looked to the door, his pace slowing, but Val slapped his shoulder again, her voice low. ‘Never mind him! Keep going!’
    He pumped into her with abandon; she felt herself on the edge, wanting to feel those thunderclaps of pleasure inside her, wanting to feel it because of this man. He gave a strangled cry, spurring her on, her cries mingling with his as she came, her back arching beneath him, her legs wrapping around him, clinging to him fiercely, the sweat making her stick to her new lover . . .
    . . . Cat sat up sharply, confused, unsure of where she was, sweat beading down her face. Then her mind focused as she glanced about the room, then at herself – lying there with her bra and shirt off, her jeans and thong around her knees, her vibrator beside her.
    There was a knock at the door. Adolescent memories of being caught in similar situations resurfaced as she quickly returned her vibrator to her bag, slipped back into her T-shirt and pulled up her clothes, thankful that Nathan had kept his promise to knock before using the key. ‘Wait, goddammit!’
    Dios , she thought her scent was thick in the close confines of the berth.
    Her head spun as she made her unsteady way to the door, ignoring the welcome hot glow between her legs. Damn, thatdream was so vivid . . . She was blushing again as she worked the door lock with trembling fingers. ‘You can come in now.’
    However, the man who stood there, Jack Wheeler, remained where he was, smiling. ‘Thanks for the offer, but I’d better not.’
    Cat stiffened, forcing down her ardent feelings. ‘Can I help you, Mr Wheeler?’
    Wheeler folded his hands behind him, letting his eyes seem to do all the work. ‘I wanted to invite you, and Mr Ames, of course, to my table for a late dinner. Most of the other passengers have already eaten, but I always wait until the final ones have boarded.’
    She saw his eyes flash down, for a second, and she realised her nipples were peaking beneath her T-shirt. Embarrassed but also amused, she leant against the doorframe. ‘ Gracias. And what did we do to earn this honour?’
    Wheeler leant back on the opposite side, mimicking, perhaps unconsciously, her own stance. ‘In your case, the honour would be mine.’
    Cat smiled back. ‘Me? I’m just an ordinary accountant.’
    â€˜One who happens to have boarded a very extraordinary train, for what I hope will be a very special weekend for you. In fact,’ he continued, shifting in place and looking as if he could read her mind, ‘I believe you’ve been enjoying yourself already.’ He nodded his head towards the bed, and his voice grew more confidential. ‘I’ll bet every dollar in my safe