Chapter Twenty
KING woke around midnight with a raging boner and a hand between Harmony’s legs. He removed it, and she whimpered, but she stopped when he began working his hand beneath the waistband of her bottoms, and when he reached her, she purred, spread her legs, and doubled the size of his cock.
Last night he’d set out to make her pant after him like a mare in heat. And now they were both hooked. He grazed the very edges of her nether lips with a finger, and he felt her welcoming heat, slick and ready, open and willing. He found her swollen nubbin, flicked it, and she gasped, then he all-out invaded her. One finger, two; slow at first, then faster, in and out, his thumb working her clit, her moans making him ready to come as she climaxed—in her sleep, the brat—without waking to give as good as she got.
He wanted to make her come again, until she woke and understood what he was doing, until she jumped his bones and put him out of his misery.
She was a ready one, and he was a randy one, getting thicker and harder in the palm of his own hand.
He worked her and raised her again, until her wailing climax woke her to her surroundings, to his busy hand, and she sat up, pulled off her top, slicked off her bottoms, and spread her legs for him, and he mastered the queen of the multiple orgasm.
She might set a new record. He lost count. His hand began to cramp, but he didn’t complain, didn’t give up, and kept her coming. When her legs collapsed and he thought she would fall asleep, she pushed at his chest so he fell back, and she rolled on her belly. Still in her own bed, she reached for him and palmed her way down his chest, torturing him the same way he’d tortured her.
King tried to relax and let her take her sweet, sultry time, as he’d taken his at first with her, but he was so primed, he half expected to embarrass himself before she got to the point of the matter.
At his waist, she stopped and skipped the important part. Damn her for copying his torture tactics. She grazed him from his knees to his thighs, and he thought he’d die of need.
She slid a finger over his balls to the base of his cock, slid two up his shaft, and when she rubbed the droplet at the tip of his dick over the head, she raised him off the cot; then she finally, finally, closed her hand around him.
“This,” she said, “is gorgeous. I’ll never forget the sight of you making yourself come.” She put everything into working him and making it happen again, in her own sweet time, and he bent to her will.
He floated daringly close to heaven while trying to stay beneath the clouds to ride the wind of perfect pleasure. Her skin against his, the pressure and perfection in her movement, her tenderness and attention to what raised him up and lowered him to rest, were incredible.
King struggled to ride her hurricane-strength winds, but bliss caught him unaware and shattered him into more pieces than he could reclaim. He was afraid that like Humpty Dumpty, he’d never be put together again. Not in the same way, at least. Not so the attention of other women would satisfy.
“Sleep,” Harmony said, holding his soft, happy cock. “And thank you.”
King woke to construction sounds, and by the slant of the sun, he knew they’d overslept, but who cared?
“Did you lock that door?” Harmony asked, sliding her hand around his morning boner and leading him toward another roaring climax.
“I locked it.”
“No banker’s gonna come in and—”
“The bankers!” King jumped from his cot. “I have a meeting in six minutes.”
Harmony flopped back on the bed, but she had him so primed, washing his cock finished the job. More than anything, he wanted to finish inside her. But he needed this meeting. “Damn it.”
Before he left, he checked his briefcase for paper clip imposters and took a last look at Harmony, sleeping naked in his bed, exhausted from all the orgasms he’d given her during the night.
He did not want to leave this room, but he had no choice.
Lucky for him, the water taxi was running late, so he stood on the dock waiting to greet the bankers. Everything was set to go smoothly. But they found the crew tearing the dining room apart. Now, they had to get efficient? With the bankers waiting and watching, King clumsily moved them, his paperwork, and architectural drawings to the formal parlor.
He didn’t get far into his smooth-talking, never-fail, rah-rah, big success speech before the bankers shook their heads. “I’m sorry, Paxton,” the older of the two said. “Though you might see this place as an asset, we see it as a liability. It is worth millions, but only to the buyer who’ll pay that much for a pile of frozen rocks come winter. Anybody with castle cash buys in Mexico or on the islands these days.”
“I have a buyer—”
“You’re not likely to meet his deadline, and you’ve got your own slowdowns to blame.”
Damn you, Gussie, King thought. Since his money was tied up in long-term investments, King needed a break, the right words to change their minds, a diversion, something . . .
And something came along . . .
Tigerstar and her kamikaze kittens catapulted into the room, chasing each other and stopping to hiss at empty chairs. Harmony came in behind them wearing red spikes and a white strapless sundress with a pattern of cutout flowers, her red bra and panties visible in the cutouts. “I apologize for intruding,” she said. “I didn’t think you were meeting in here.” She turned to go. “Tigerstar, bring the kids.”
“Harmony, wait,” King said, rising. “Gentlemen, let me introduce you to my right-hand . . . girl, Harmony Cartwright.” He sat when she extended her right hand, because his body knew it too intimately. “Join us,” he said.
As if she read the trouble he was in, Harmony unleashed her sex appeal and dealt it in spades. She oozed charm and complimented the bankers on their refined taste in clothes and investments. “Paxton Castle includes Nicodemus Paxton’s extensive nautical library,” she said. “He’s the historical shipbuilder and sea captain for whom the old Paxton Wharf in Salem was named.” She slid a ship’s log across the table for them to peruse.
“As you can see from his entries, Nicodemus brought art treasures here from all over the world. Our extensive collection of Oriental artifacts is priceless and filled with one-of-a-kind pieces. In addition, we house an original steam engine and a midway funhouse exhibit and toy room. Besides making a unique museum, the castle would make a fine upscale hotel.”
She chuckled. “Unfortunately, or fortunately, the moat is being turned into a rose garden, but who can resist a stone castle with a drawbridge these days? The garden walks and nature trails are natural. There’s even a witch garden out behind the kitchen, if you can believe it. And who doesn’t like to stay in a hotel with a ghost or two, especially the ghost of a witch so near Salem?” Harmony turned to him. “You did tell them about Gussie, didn’t you?”
“Uh, no,” King said, ready to strangle her.
“I’m sorry, gentlemen,” she said. “Mr. Paxton was saving the best for last, and I spoiled it.”
The bankers were salivating, and King was in shock.
Gingertigger landed on his shoulder and licked his ear. The kitten weighed less than her psycho mother, so her sudden weight hadn’t startled him, and being appreciated right now, even by a kitten, felt good.
Caramello and Warlock curled up in Harmony’s lap, and Tigerstar stood close by, her back arched, hissing toward the ceiling
“We also thought sailboat tours would add to the get-away ambiance of the island,” Harmony said. “Plus private suites could be built at the lighthouse and windmill, but of course that would be at the discretion of the buyer. All the big hotel chains—”
Tigerstar backstepped and hissed louder, dancing cautiously around.
Harmony’s ideas were brilliant and resourceful, and the bankers thought so, too. “This is not a moldy old castle,” she said. “It has the potential to be a huge, money-making enterprise. After all, it’s a private island close to one of the most famous historic sites in the world.”
The bankers talked deal, but Harmony laughed at the rate of interest they offered and tried to get it lowered!
Something started to hum, and as the hum got louder, Tigerstar danced and hissed, and the chandelier began to rattle.
King panicked and Harmony took the bankers, one on each arm, to escort them from the room, but before she got them out, the chandelier fell and landed at his feet.
“Abra-candelabra!” Harmony said, making a joke, but the bankers nixed the loan, anyway.
On the dock a few minutes later—after the bankers agreed to revisit the loan further into castle restoration—he and Harmony waved them off.
“I’m sorry. I tried to get them out of there faster. I knew Gussie would make you pay for trying to get a loan to finish and sell the place. I didn’t want them to see the roof or walls fall in.”
“Surprise,” King said. “They saw the chandelier fall, instead.”
“I’m sorry you didn’t get your loan. What happens now?”
He thought about that for a minute. “I apply to another bank, or I try selling without restoring the place.”
“Or you restore it little by little, with your own money, in your own time.”
He quirked a brow. “I’m not a man who likes to wait, but I’m sorry I doubted what you said about our resident wailer. I just wish I knew what to do about her. Listen to her howling in there.”
“Did you see how fast the bankers walked after she started?”
King rubbed the back of his neck. “She’s really a problem.”
“I know,” Harmony said, “but we can’t talk about her here. I’ve been researching ghosts, and she’s as likely to roam the grounds as the house. Do you have any bicycles so we can get away for a while and talk privately?”
“Any preferences? We have all kinds.”
“You choose. I’ll go change into some play clothes.”
“That dress sure in hell makes me want to play.”
“Stop using negative words. It sure in heaven makes you want to play, which surprises me, because I thought you’d be ticked off when I showed up wearing it.”
“Oh I was, until I saw how you handled the bankers. They had already refused me, you know.”
“And I nearly changed their minds? See.” She raised her chin. “I’m almost good for something.”
“You’re aces, Orgasmatron. You set a world record last night. I had to put liniment on my hand this morning.” He flexed it and winced.
“If you had actually slept with me . . . you’d need liniment on your pecker.” She ran toward the door he’d nearly kept her from entering the other day, and, now, just being near her made him wonder why he’d tried to keep her out.
“Get the bikes,” she said, “and something to snack on. I’ll be right back.”
“I could snack on you,” he called, and the gardeners applauded.
What the hell was wrong with him? He’d never made such an inappropriate statement out loud in his life. He blamed Harmony for unstarching him, but he might as well accept the inevitable. She had him by the balls, and, for now, he liked it that way. He went to get the bikes.
Bicycles and bananas. That’s what he had waiting for her when she came back. She wore short shorts and a black hoodie, and she threw a hoodie his way.
“What the hell are those?” she asked, eyeing the bicycles.
“Mine is an 1869 English Velocipede, or a boneshaker as they were not so fondly called. And yours is an 1889 Lady’s Rover. The amazing selling point on yours was that the central bar had been removed to allow for your long, cumbersome skirts.”
“Get a life. What’s with the bananas? You got a monkey on the island?”
“You said to bring a snack.”
She shrugged and got on her bike. “I guess fruit’s better than cookies. Not. Hey, my bike has tires, and yours doesn’t.”
“No kidding,” he said, peddling his ass off behind her.
“Peddle fast,” she said, “because the louder Gussie wails, the lower our odds are of getting away.”
The wail caught up with them at the bottom of the hill, and so did the sound of Curt shouting their names. Before clearing a wooded area, King grabbed a tree branch and dragged it behind his bike to erase their tracks. His military school pranks had finally paid off.
Harmony led the way, because King liked watching her backside as she pedaled in those spandex shorts. Tough, riding a bike with a boner.
“What’s this?” Harmony asked when she saw the fence blocking the entrance to the old cave.
“I honestly don’t know. As a kid, I was always told it was dangerous and forbidden, and to stay away.”
“I find it hard to believe that you obeyed.”
“I never lucked out with disobedience in this particular spot. Probably the only forbidden place on the island I missed, though.”
“It’s a great island. I adore the peach roses by the front doors, the trellised wisteria, the stone walls covered with ivy, the wildflower woods.” She shrugged. “I guess I love the whole place.”
That threw him, because deep down, he felt the same way.
“Shall we see what’s in here?” She pulled the rotting fence from the entry with one tug. They walked their bikes inside and slid the fence back in place. To hide the bikes, they walked them deep into the cave, choosing the brighter tunnels as they went. When the ground got rocky, they grabbed the bananas, abandoned the bikes, and went on.
Harmony was curious, maybe a little too curious.
“I think we’ve gone a bit too far,” King said, “and taken a few too many turns. We need to find our way back, don’t forget.”
“I know the way. I’m wondering why it keeps getting lighter in here. Watch, we’ll come out somewhere else on the island. Yikes!”
Whoosh. She disappeared into the earth, as if she’d taken an express elevator to hell.
“Harmony!” King took a cautious step to the side, so he could rescue her, not follow, and whoosh, he took a slippery slide on his sore ass, until he came to a hard stop in a bright, icy, underground . . . palace?
“Isn’t this gorgeous?” Harmony marveled at the stalagmites and stalactites. “Talk about your phallic symbols. Oh look, that one’s bent. Do you think this is the center of the earth?”
“That was some tumble,” King said. “Did you land on your head?”
She grinned. “It was energizing, like taking an icy water slide straight to—”
“Never-Get-Out Land?”