Discipline Down Under

by Patricia Green

  “Are ya sure ya don’t want to end this? If we go back to the ranger station, it could be over in less than a day.”

  “No. Please. I want to keep going.” This was as close to Tripp as she’d felt all along and Peg didn’t want to lose a single minute of it. Running away earlier had been so stupid. She’d been running away from herself. Peg had to face how she felt.

  He seemed hesitant, but eventually, he said, “Okay.” Petting her hair, he closed the conversation. “Go to sleep, luv.”

  There was no answer to that but to snuggle up against his warm body even tighter and close her eyes.

  * * *

  When Peg awoke, it was to find herself still wrapped up in Tripp’s arms. He was sleeping peacefully, and the kookaburra hadn’t started its caterwauling. She could smell Tripp’s nighttime heat and clean sweat. Peg loved the scent of him, the feel of him against her and beneath her hand. She squirmed away, gently disentangling herself. Once apart from him, she pulled off her wrinkled shirt and tossed it to the foot of their bags. Naked, she pressed herself up against Tripp once more.

  He made a small noise, but held her tight. With as much stealth as she could manage, Peg began to stroke his chest, gently, trying not to wake him before it was time, but it didn’t work. His hand caught her wrist and it was clear that he was fully awake.

  “Not the best idea,” he told her.

  “I don’t care. Don’t you want me, too?”

  Loosening his hold on her wrist, but not letting go, Tripp sighed. “More than ya know.”

  “Then why not?”

  “I don’t want to be a vacation root. I won’t claim to be a saint. I’ve spent time with girls I had no intention of taking home to Mother, but never a client. That seems too much. Yer depending on me for yer safety, and I don’t want to take advantage of ya. This is all a new, maybe frightening experience for ya; it makes us seem closer than we are.”

  But Peg felt tied to him, not only in proximity but also emotionally. Maybe she should just say so. But, then again, judging by what he’d said, he’d claim it was an entanglement due to circumstances. Whatever was behind it, Peg wanted to feel even closer to him. Feel him inside her, totally focused on her and she totally focused on him.

  “Does it really matter why we feel close?” She rubbed her torso along his side, her nipples enjoying the play of his skin against them. “I want you. You want me. Can’t you at least kiss me?”

  He was quiet for a long time. Peg wondered if maybe he’d fallen asleep, but his voice wasn’t sleepy when he replied. “If I kiss ya again, Peggy, I won’t be able to stop.”

  Shifting her weight to hover over his chest, Peg touched his cheek, caressing his stubbly jaw and chin, imagining his very green eyes looking at her in the dark. “Then don’t stop.” Peg plied her lips at his, pressing her breasts to his chest and rubbing her thighs against his.

  Tripp groaned and turned them both over till she was on her back, and he was at her side. “Crikey.”

  Peg could feel his erection at her hip and reached down to touch it. Tripp shied away for a moment, eventually relaxing back against her and into her seeking hand with a low groan.

  They had no words for each other, except for the soft sighs and quiet moans they shared while they kissed. Tripp, at first tender and gentle, had apparently made up his mind that they were going to make love, because Peg could feel his change of heart. His kisses got more aggressive, his tongue twining with hers and dominating her mouth. She was breathless, rapt, nearly overwhelmed with lust and desire. And she could feel the pulsing of his erection in her hand, the swelling increasing as she touched him and they kissed.

  Peg’s face was feeling tender under the abrading stubble, but it didn’t matter. Soon, Tripp moved down to lick and caress her breasts anyway. His tongue was slightly rough, but his strokes were patient. Peg arched into his mouth and he suckled on her nipple until she moaned and gripped his hair.

  From one breast to another he moved. Peg lost her grip on his cock, but she took hold of his shoulders and pulled at his shaggy hair. Tripp was not in a hurry, though Peg could feel the urgency in him with the tenseness of his arms.

  His kisses trailed down her ribs to her belly. With hardly a hint, Peg opened her legs to him. Tripp eased them both out of the sleeping bags, and headed down between her legs, his rough chin sliding toward her aching mound. She was so wet, so eager to have him touch her there.

  “Please,” she whispered.

  “Don’t talk,” he answered softly.

  Peg might not talk anymore, but she could feel, she could moan, wordlessly beg with her body. Tripp responded as though reading her mind. He separated her pussy lips with strong, callused fingers, and breathed deeply.

  It was about the most erotic thing Peg could imagine at the moment. He was taking her scent. It was so feral, so primitive that it was just about her undoing.

  When his tongue slid along the crease between her thigh and her pussy, she pulled at his hair, insisting on more, but no matter how she tugged and squirmed, Tripp had his own schedule and wouldn’t be forced to do her bidding. Eventually, when she thought she might go mad with wanting, he tickled her throbbing clit with the tip of his tongue. Peg’s hips arched up and she pressed that part of herself to his face while pulling his head down. He wouldn’t budge an inch, but his tongue snaked out and wrapped around her clit. Peg moaned and shimmied. She was going crazy.

  With a soft chuckle, Tripp glided his mouth to the core of her, and thrust inside. Peg let go of his head, raising her hands to her breasts, kneading, pulling at her nipples. She was so close to coming, so close. Tripp replaced his tongue with two fingers and went back to teasing her clit. The combination was too much for Peg, and pulling on her nipples hard, she shattered. Shards of her desire flew everywhere and nowhere. Her eyes squeezed tight, her hips arched, and she cried out.

  Tripp continued to finger her and lick her clit until she found release again. As her pulsing pussy recovered, he released her and rested his head against her thigh.

  “Oi, woman.”

  “Let me taste you, too. Or fuck me. Or both. Yes, both.”

  He chuckled. “I won’t fuck ya. It’s not the right time,” Tripp told her. “But I’m bursting at the seams from wanting yer mouth on me.”

  Peg wanted that too, though she was a little disappointed at not being allowed to feel his raging hard-on inside her pussy. “Mmm. Lie back.”

  He crawled over to her side and lay on his back. Peg grabbed his cock, and slid her hand up and down it, maybe a little roughly, because he stilled her movements and showed her how he liked it best. She followed his lead, but also leaned over him and licked at one of his nipples, causing him to squirm. It was hard to wait; Peg wanted him in her mouth, wanted to feel powerful and sexy. She worked her way down his torso, pausing briefly to tickle his belly button, but that only resulted in his hand gripping her hair and coaxing her to move lower.

  Peg rubbed her cheek against the base of his erection and tasted his balls, inhaling the scent of him, much as he’d done with her. He smelled earthy, clean, unlike anything she could compare it to. It was Tripp’s own perfume and Peg relished it. The scent clinging to her nose, Peg plied her tongue up his shaft, and tasted the drop of semen she found on its bulbous head. Salty, rich, his taste, like his scent, spoke to her hindbrain and seduced her.

  Slowly, gently, Peg took him in her mouth, feeling his grip on her hair tighten as she lowered her head until he rested on the back of her tongue. Although she was in control for the first part of the process, Tripp’s guiding hand soon had charge of the situation and was teaching Peg the right rhythm. Their breathing became harsh, and Tripp moaned and arched into her mouth.

  Peg was enjoying the experience more than she ever would have imagined. Everything about it was perfect, right. It was as though she’d waited forever for these moments. When Tripp growled and released into her mouth, she lapped it up and swallowed his essence like liquid ambrosia.

 
Eventually, though they were both breathless, Tripp coaxed her up into his arms.

  They rested there until the kookaburra began to cackle and the sun lent some light to the outback sky.

  Chapter Six

  They were about to break their fast that morning, when there was a sound from the bush. It sounded like a person calling out.

  “What’s that?” Peg asked.

  “Sounds like a friendly haloo.”

  “It does? Who would do that?”

  A man emerged from the trees. He was about five foot six, with bushy black hair, black eyes, and skin nearly as black. An aboriginal. His face paint was white with red stripes, and he carried a daypack like a weird combo of earthy tribesman meets city dweller. Peg had a hard time estimating his age, but she thought he was in his younger twenties. His smile was broad when he saw Tripp.

  “G’day, mate!” He strolled over to Tripp and they bumped fists.

  “G’day, Nigel.”

  Nigel smiled pleasantly at Peg, and she saw that he had a narrow gap between his two front teeth.

  Tripp made introductions. “Nigel Gray, met Peggy Fisk.” Tripp patted his friend’s shoulder. “Nigel,” he told Peg, “is my partner, Victor’s, brother.”

  Peg offered her hand. “Nigel, please call me Peg.”

  Nigel looked between the couple and grinned again, mischief twinkling in his dark eyes. “Nice to meet ya, Peggy.”

  Tripp snorted softly, apparently trying to hold back a laugh. Peg’s temper rose, but she held it back. And to think she’d been considering how she might get Tripp to succumb to her wiles again. Instead of making the rude comment she thought of, Peg smoothed down her ponytail and tried not to frown.

  “Where’s the party?” Nigel asked.

  Peg’s ears perked up. “Party?”

  “He means, where are we off to,” Tripp answered, then turned to Nigel. “We’ll pack over to Paterson’s Billabong. We’re due there tonight. Victor is picking us up tomorrow afternoon.”

  Nigel nodded. “That’s a long trek for one day.”

  Tripp nodded. “We got a little sidetracked yesterday. If we hike steadily, we can make it by sundown.”

  “Right. I shouldn’t keep ya.”

  Peg had never met an aboriginal before. She didn’t know what she’d expected. An accent other than the Australian twang? Patois? Some sort of pidgin sign language? She realized how stupid those expectations were. These were civilized people, Australians all. Their customs might be a bit foreign, but so were the average Australians to her American sensibilities.

  “Where are ya off to, mate?” Tripp asked.

  “To the tribal village. My cousin’s getting married. We’ve got a party going on.” He patted his pack. “I’m bringing the beer.”

  Tripp laughed. “Yer going to need more than that.”

  “This is my third trip!”

  Peg found that amusing, too, so she chuckled.

  “Say,” Tripp began, giving her a passing glance. “Why don’t ya come along with us for a bit? We’re going the same direction.”

  Nigel looked between the two. Peg couldn’t tell what his thoughts might be. “Sure it’s grouse?”

  “Absolutely! Isn’t that right, Peggy?”

  What could she say? She’d have much rather shared the path with Tripp alone. Maybe she’d have gotten the nerve up to tell him how she felt, or maybe he’d have made some declaration of affection. As it was, she had their encounter last night, and shouldn’t have expectations of more. “Sure. Of course.”

  “Righty-oh,” Nigel pronounced.

  Tripp started to clear up the camp, and Peg tried to help, though she was entirely inept at it. “Sit,” Tripp told her mildly. “I’ve got this.”

  So Peg sat, trying not to feel the silence between her and Nigel. He rummaged around in his daypack. “Want a granola bar?”

  Peg burst out into laughter. Being offered a granola bar by a painted aboriginal was about the funniest thing she could ever imagine. She laughed and laughed, until she had Nigel laughing too, though he couldn’t possibly know why.

  Eventually, her laughter turned to chortles, and she took the bar, said her thanks, and enjoyed every bite. From there on out, Nigel called her Peg. They were becoming friends.

  * * *

  The pace was brisk as they wound their way through the eucalypt forest. Tripp could tell that Peggy was impatiently tolerating their being accompanied by Nigel, and he was pretty sure he knew why. It had been a mistake to get intimate with her. He’d known it was the wrong thing to do, but one thing led to another and boom! Hormones had taken over. It couldn’t happen again. They had one more night together, and Tripp thought he might sleep outside again. The nights were warm enough and it was unlikely for critters to come by and try to do him harm. Certainly, separation during the bedtime hours was the best way to avoid another mistake.

  It was disappointing that he couldn’t stay close to Peggy. He liked her a lot. Respected her determination and spunk. She was cute and, although he didn’t want to dwell on it, she was a good root as well. Taking her fully would have been sublime, and following that up with some proper dating and getting to know one another away from the bush would have been perfect. But she was American; sure to go back to the United States sooner rather than later, and the last thing Tripp needed was a long-distance love affair. Neither of them needed that. If she’d been Australian, or even a permanent resident foreigner in his country, that would have made a huge difference. But the reality was that she was not. She had a temporary visa and that was all.

  There was also her date with Matt to consider. It was possible that Tripp was reading much more into their affair than was warranted. She’d agreed to meet Matt easily enough. And, it wasn’t like she’d been a virgin when they’d done it together. She knew how to give head well enough. That might say something about her. Or maybe it was his own bitterness at their separation talking. Tripp tried not to care.

  So, he trudged forward, leading the way through the trees and mulch, without stopping to allow Peggy to take pictures. She’d messed up their schedule, so unfortunately, this was the price she’d have to pay. There would be plenty of wildlife around the billabong, and if they could make it tonight as he wanted, tomorrow morning could be spent taking photos. It would have to do.

  * * *

  Peg was utterly exhausted by the time they made it to the billabong. It was about an hour after dark when they got to the campsite. Someone had left quite a mess before them, and it took another hour to clean it up and prepare it for their overnight habitation. Tripp set up the tent, and put together a small fire in the fire pit.

  Nigel had talked nonstop all day. It was amazing how much he had to say that was completely uninteresting for Peg. Her ears perked up when they talked about Tripp’s time as a ranger. She didn’t learn much, however.

  When Tripp asked Nigel if he wanted to camp out with them that night, Peg wanted to rip her hair out and scream. There was no way she was going to get a moment to see how Tripp felt about their relationship. And the next day they’d separate for good. They both had to go back to Katherine, but separately. Tripp had more clients waiting for his guidance, and Peg had to think about what she wanted to do next. Going to Perth to stay with her father was her most likely option.

  It was depressing to think about losing touch with Tripp. She wanted to be with him more.

  “Tripp,” she began as he sat quietly with the chattering Nigel. “Can I talk to you a moment?”

  He met her gaze briefly, then looked away. “Nigel, will ya excuse us, mate?”

  “Of course.”

  “Thanks.” He stood and Peg led him a few yards away toward the billabong. Peg knew there were no crocs in the water; Tripp had assured her of that.

  “Tripp, about last night…”

  “No worries, Peggy. It happened, that’s all. I’ll keep my doodle in my trousers from now on.”

  “I wish you wouldn’t. I mean, I wish you wouldn’t be that
way. I know that with Nigel around we have to be circumspect, but don’t you want to make something of what we started?” It was so bold of her. Normally, she would have let him take the lead, but he seemed disinclined to make the next move. Maybe that was an Aussie thing.

  “It’s not a great idea. You and I are from different worlds.”

  They were, she knew that. But they didn’t have to remain that way. “But we can work on it.”

  He looked pained. “I’m sorry. It wouldn’t work.”

  Defeated, Peg decided to back down before she got really hurt. “Okay. I’m sorry.”

  Tripp stepped toward her and touched her face. “Don’t fret, Peggy. I wish it could be different.”

  One more try. “But Tripp, it could!”

  He turned away, and Peg took that as his answer.

  It hurt. Hurt badly. She’d come to feel something strong for Tripp. But, in fact, she didn’t know him all that well. Hours of talking while they hiked taught her a little about him, but not his emotional attachments. She didn’t know anything about his family, for example. What were they like? Was he close to them? She wished he’d volunteered more information. She didn’t want to be too nosy. Maybe if she’d tried harder, coaxed some feelings out of him, he’d want her more. Maybe she’d messed up by not seeming interested enough in things other than his body. Aside from his partner, Victor, and now Nigel, Peg didn’t know who his friends were or what he was hoping for in his life. It looked like Peg was not it.

  They went back to Nigel, and he kept up a steady stream of conversation until it was time for bed. Peg didn’t join in much. She didn’t feel like talking.

  * * *

  The next morning, Nigel left, heading further into the bush to his family. Peg had come to like him for his sense of humor and his thoughtful questions. He kind of grew on a person, even if he did talk too much.

  Tripp looked tired, and he seemed uncomfortable with her. It was not the way Peg wanted to part from him. She kept the conversation neutral and that helped loosen him up a bit.