“Wow,” he said, confirming he felt the same. He pulled back and thrust again, the position taking him deeper than before.
“That’s amazing,” she whispered, widening her knees to encourage him to push forward. He did, beginning a series of long, deep thrusts that had them both groaning within minutes.
While he moved, he stroked down her back, over her ribs, and cupped her breasts, playing with her nipples until she felt the first stirrings of an orgasm. She moistened her lips, anticipating the build, but at that point, Gene stopped moving and withdrew. She sighed, but it was only a temporary pause, and a few seconds later, he’d applied a condom and was back inside her.
“Mmm, Gene…” It was a shame not to be skin on skin, but it still felt great, and she grabbed a pillow and rested her forehead on it, pushing back against him.
“Oh, Callie…” He began to thrust harder, his body obviously taking over from his wish to make it slow. She’d never felt or heard anything so sexy, the air filled with the slick sounds of their flesh sliding together, the sound of his hips meeting her bottom as he really began to move. “Oh fuck,” he said, “tell me you’re close.”
“I… oh…” She couldn’t even get the words out before her climax hit her, and she clamped around him and cried out into the pillow as the intense pulses claimed her.
“Thank God.” He thrust hard, riding out her orgasm, and then groaned as he came. “Aaahhh…”
Callie could only wait, aftershocks still rippling through her as he continued to thrust deep inside her. His already hard muscles seemed to have turned to rock, and they locked together for what seemed like forever before their bodies finally released them, and they collapsed in a tangle of limbs, limp and spent.
“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God.” Callie knew she would never be able to move again. She felt as if she’d run a marathon, swum ten miles, and then cycled halfway up a mountain. “I’m exhausted.”
Gene lay heavy on her, pressing her into the mattress. “Mmm,” was all he said, still breathing heavily.
Callie didn’t complain. She rested her lips on his hands and pressed light kisses there as their bodies relaxed, the sensitivity of her skin fading to a beautiful glow.
She tried to take a mental snapshot of the moment to take out when she needed a pick-me-up, concentrating on the taste of strawberry in her mouth, the aroma of the lubes mingled with the smell of sex, the hum of her body, the feel of him beneath her fingertips. And the look in his eyes when she eventually turned her head, filled with warmth and, for want of a better word, love, or at least a deep affection that gave her goosebumps and made her want to cry.
He kissed her, then withdrew and disposed of the condom before taking her in his arms. They lay there in the glow of the bedside lamp for a while, just relaxing and letting their breathing return to normal, basking in the afterglow of shared bliss.
Eventually, though, she had to pee, and extricated herself reluctantly from his arms to visit the bathroom.
When she came out, he’d retrieved a bottle of water from the minibar and had drunk half of it. He held it out to her, and she sat on the bed next to him and finished it off, enjoying the slide of the cool liquid down her throat.
She put the lid on and tossed the bottle into the bin, and rested her hands on the edge of the mattress, mirroring his pose.
He bumped shoulders with her. She wrinkled her nose and bumped him back.
“I’d better go,” he said.
She nodded, having expected that. He met her gaze, then leaned forward, and they exchanged a long, slow kiss.
Gene moved back, his expression showing his reluctance, and maybe frustration, too, at having to go. It took every piece of willpower she had not to beg him to stay.
He got up and started getting dressed, pulling on his underwear and trousers. “I’ll see you for breakfast?”
“Sure. Seven o’clock?”
“Yes, of course. Early start. See you then.” He pulled on his waistcoat over his open shirt and put his jacket over his arm. Then he paused. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”
“Happy birthday.”
He winked at her. Then he opened the door. She watched him look outside and scan the corridor before he slipped out, closing the door behind him.
She sat there for a bit. Then she took his sweatshirt out of her case and pulled it on. It fell to her hips, the sleeves falling over her hands. She smiled as she tugged them up to her elbows, walked over to the window, and leaned against the post.
The sea glistened in the moonlight. If a boat were to sail in a straight line east from Napier, it would cross six thousand miles of the South Pacific until it hit the coast of Chile. So much ocean, vast and dark and deep.
She rested her head on the window, and sighed.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
For Gene, the next few days were a blur of towns and cities and hotels as he escorted Callie to her appointments, while his evenings followed the pattern of dinner and late walks followed by hours of sensual delight as they explored each other’s bodies. Every day, Gene tried to convince himself to stay professional, and every evening his resolution crumbled at the temptation in Callie’s eyes.
But he never told her he loved her, and he never stayed the night.
He spent the late hours in his room, going over the reports from his office and gradually growing more concerned as events began to escalate. Two more members of the jury that had convicted Darren Kirk were injured in attacks on their life, and a third was killed, bumping the case up the STG priority list until it was flagged as a nationwide alert. Reports came in thick and fast from his crew of repeated sightings of the same men around Phoebe’s office and home, and she now had two personal protection officers with her at all time, and another four covert officers working out threat assessments of places she went and generally trying to keep her safe.
Gene knew that Phoebe had spoken to Callie about what was happening, but she never mentioned it to him, and so he didn’t feel that he could ask her what she felt about it all, because he wasn’t supposed to know. In bed, their intimacy deepened, but outside the hotel room they only seemed to grow further apart, as what was happening became an elephant that had not only entered the room but that sat between them on the table and refused to budge.
He now had Ian, another protection officer, working covertly, advising him on routes in and out of the hotels, checking out the stores before Callie went into them, and shadowing them both at a distance while they drove up to Gisborne, Whakatane, Tauranga, and Hamilton, occasionally stopping at other smaller towns on the way when Callie discovered a lingerie store existed there.
Gene worked for hours each night making sure that Callie could continue her tour and remain as safe as possible while still being unaware of her protection. It would have been difficult even if they hadn’t shared a bed, trying to answer phone calls out of her hearing and scanning shops and streets as unobtrusively as he could while they walked. But becoming romantically involved made things a hundred times worse, not in the least because Gene knew he was lying to her.
As they entered the city of Auckland, even though they were nearing the end of their tour, Gene was beginning to consider telling her. The night before, in Hamilton, they’d spent hours in bed making love, lying there talking, then making love again until they were both wrung out and exhausted. But as usual, he’d had to get up and go to his own room so he could work, and once again he’d had to cope with the fleeting look of disappointment on Callie’s face before she smothered it with a smile.
She never asked him why he left, or begged him to stay, but he knew that every time he walked out, he hurt her, and that was beginning to be more of a problem than anything else.
Because he was falling for her. He knew that now. It was too soon to say he loved her. Love was like the plant he’d once read about that grew in the Bolivian mountains, a bromeliad that took a long time to grow and bloom. It wasn’t like bamboo—it couldn’t grow overnight. But being in l
ove—that was something different. And Gene was rapidly coming to the conclusion that he was falling in love with Callie.
If that was the case, and he wanted to stand any hope of continuing their relationship once Kirk was caught, how was he going to explain why he hadn’t told her the truth before now? Telling her he’d been worried for her safety might sound a great reason in his head, but for a woman who’d been cheated on and for whom truth and honesty were two of the most important things in a relationship, keeping the news to himself could possibly be the worst decision he would ever make.
If he told her, he might risk her life if she refused to have another personal protection officer, and he told himself that was the main reason he continued with the ruse. But deep down, he knew he was scared of losing her, and every day that passed he became more and more terrified.
For better or for worse, things came to a head when they reached Auckland. The biggest city in New Zealand, although not the capital, Auckland was large and sprawling, its oldest park based around an extinct volcano, its distinctive waterfront and skyline giving it the nickname ‘City of Sails’.
By now it was mid-February, equivalent to mid-August in the northern hemisphere. The mornings bore a touch of autumn, but by midday the sun was high and hot, and it was growing increasingly humid this far north. Gene sweltered in his shirt and waistcoat every day, but there was no way he could drop the waistcoat, so he just had to put up with it.
After Napier, partly because Callie seemed to enjoy him being there and partly because of his growing concern, he’d begun to accompany her into her meetings. She introduced him as her PA, which often induced jokes and humorous comments from the store managers, but Callie just let that ride over her, and then she would launch into her spiel.
It was only then that Gene began to realize why she was so successful at her job. She had a way of putting a person at ease immediately, and the combination of her professionalism, her friendliness, and her beauty, he was sure, meant that the majority of times she came away with a promise to stock the Four Seasons brand and a new friend in the bargain. She filled out an entry on her phone for every client, noting some personal details about him or her—for example ‘supports the Blues,’ ‘has a son at Massey University studying photography,’ or ‘has baby twins, one boy, one girl.’ Gene knew she’d check these entries before she rang the client when she returned to Wellington, making the connection with them again when she spoke to them. It was a simple trick, but a clever one, and it only added to his admiration for her.
Their first day in Auckland was busy, four appointments all within three hours across the city, and by the time he reached the last one at four thirty, Gene was tired, stressed, and slightly irritable. Thus, when his phone rang halfway through their last appointment, he was tempted to cancel it, but as he apologized to Callie and the store manager and pulled out the phone, he saw the name Phoebe Hawke on the screen and knew he had to take it.
“Excuse me.” He walked out of the office and along the corridor, letting the door close behind him so he couldn’t be overheard before answering it. “Hello?”
“Gene?”
“Yes. Hi, Phoebe. Are you okay?”
“Yes. Well, no. I mean, I’m not hurt or anything.” She sounded flustered, not like the Phoebe he knew at all.”
“Spit it out,” he said wryly. “What’s up?”
“I’ve had another email.”
He frowned, puzzled as to why she’d phoned him and Kev hadn’t. “When?”
“Ten minutes ago. I’ve forwarded it on to you.”
“Okay, hold on.” He lowered the phone and brought up his emails. She forwarded all the threats she received on to his office, and they’d been trying to track down the origin of the emails, although the sender had gone to great lengths to hide his tracks.
He brought it up. It was the usual bullshit, meant to intimidate and induce fear. They never failed to make Gene angry, but it was the last paragraph that made cold slither through him as if he’d swallowed an ice cube whole.
Did your daughter enjoy her kingfish last night? I hope so. Because it might be her last.
The final two sentences went on to describe what Kirk was going to do to Callie when he finally got his hands on her.
Gene wanted to throw up. The night before, Callie had indeed eaten kingfish in the hotel restaurant. Kirk—or one of his men—had been there, unspotted by either Gene or the other PPOs.
“Fuck,” he said.
Normally, Phoebe would have mocked him for that, but today she just said, “I know,” in a husky voice. “He’s watching you, Gene. He’s watching my baby. Until now, I haven’t really been scared—I don’t care what this man says to me, I refuse to be scared for my life, but I am scared for Callie. I don’t know what I’d do if someone hurt her because of me.”
“They won’t.” His voice was hard as flint. “That’s what I’m here for.”
“I want to double her cover, Gene. I don’t care how much it costs. I want at least two people with her at all times, and a proper team following her.”
Although he knew she was right, his heart sank. There would be no more creeping into her room at night. “Of course.”
She took a deep breath. “And I want you to tell her, Gene. I want her to know who you really are.”
He closed his eyes. “But what if she tells me to go?”
“We’ll deal with that if it happens. I don’t think she will—up until now she hasn’t taken the threat seriously, but now we know she’s definitely being followed, I think it will make her think differently.”
Gene wasn’t so sure, but at least the decision was made now. He had to tell her. “Okay. I’ll let her know.”
“I’ll call later, once you’ve had a chance to speak to her and to make the arrangements with your office.”
“Okay. I’ll get some people to fly up overnight for our last couple of days away. It’ll be easier once we’re back in Wellington.”
“Thank you, Gene.”
He blew out a long breath. “And how are you? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. You know what I’m like. Nobody’s going to get the better of me.”
His lips twisted wryly. “Yeah. Glad to hear it.”
“Thank you for taking care of my baby.”
He examined his shoes. “You’re welcome. She’s a lovely girl.”
“She’s a sweetie. Make sure she stays safe.”
“I will.”
“I’ll speak to you later.”
He hung up.
For a long moment, he just stood there. Outside, the sky was heavy and gray, promising rain. There was no air conditioning in the corridor, and he was already beginning to soak his shirt with sweat.
He’d been living in a fantasy, caught up in Callie’s spell, but it was time to return to the real world. Some things are more important than sex, Gene! he scolded himself.
But that filled him with shame. This wasn’t just about sex. What he had with Callie was more than a series of one-night stands, and to refer to it like that, even in jest, was doing her a great disservice.
“Gene?”
He turned to see she’d finished her meeting and was walking toward him with a smile.
“You okay?” she said, observing him with her wide blue eyes.
“Fine.” He managed a tight smile. “Sorry about that. How did you get on?”
“All good. Yet another success for the Summer School of Charm!” Her cheeks flushed with pleasure, and he felt an ache begin deep inside him at the thought of the conversation they had to have.
“Shall we go, then?” he asked.
“Please. I’m knackered. I’m desperate for a shower and something to eat.”
He drove them back to the hotel, with Callie talking constantly, making it difficult for him to get a word in edgeways. She continued to talk all the way up to their floor in the elevator, and was still talking as they reached their room, swiping her card before he had a chance to say anythi
ng. She just managed to promise to meet him for dinner before the door swung shut.
Gene cursed himself for drawing this out, but it was too late now. He consoled himself by ringing Kev, discussing the threatening email, and going through the new plan, organizing to have four more agents fly up that night. Then he showered and changed into a fresh shirt, put his waistcoat back on, and was ready to knock on her door at six o’clock. He’d planned to blurt it out immediately, but she came out looking beautiful, young, and fresh in cropped jeans and a pretty orange shirt, and somehow the words wouldn’t come.
And then it was time for dinner, and he didn’t want to spoil that either, so he bit his tongue, cursing all the while, and promising himself that he’d tell her as soon as the meal was over.
“Shall we go for a walk?” Callie said once they’d finished their coffee.
He hesitated. He didn’t want her going outdoors now unless she had to, but equally it would be easier to tell her when they were alone rather than in the restaurant, just in case she went ballistic and made a scene. He couldn’t imagine the calm, good-natured Callie making a scene, but there was a distinct possibility it wouldn’t end well.
So he said, “Okay,” and they left the restaurant and walked along the waterfront. At any other time, it would have been a beautiful evening—it had rained briefly for a while, but the clouds had cleared, and the evening sun had painted all the boats in shades of orange and red. But he could take no pleasure from it, his stomach in a knot, sweat breaking out between his shoulder blades at the thought of what her reaction would be.
“Gene?” she spoke softly. She never held his hand in public, never made the effort to act as if they were a couple, but she touched him now, on the arm, gentle and concerned. “What’s the matter? You’ve been quiet all evening. Is something wrong?”
He opened his mouth to reply, and at the same time he saw the man approach out of the corner of his eye. The guy was walking fast, straight toward them, and Gene’s professional training kicked in without a second thought.
[4 Seasons 01] Seducing Summer Page 20