by Wood, Joss
She licked her lips before hooking her thumbs in the band of her panties and shimmying them over her hips. Finn looked at her lightning-shaped strip of pubic hair and his lips twitched. When he lifted his eyes again the humour had been replaced by flat-out desire.
‘That’s new.’
‘Shut up …’ Callie growled. They could discuss her beautician’s creative streak later.
‘Go and sit on the edge of the hot tub—feet in the water, legs open.’
Callie turned her back to him, walked up the steps to the tub and stepped over the ledge, dropping her feet into the hot, gorgeous water. She sighed her pleasure and couldn’t help wondering what was coming next.
‘Yeah, keep your eyes closed,’ Finn told her. ‘This is about you—only you.’
God, could she stand it? Callie thought as she obeyed his instruction. Immediately her other senses were heightened: she could taste the approaching storm on her lips, could smell the citronella in the candles that she heard Finn lighting, could feel bubbles popping against her feet and her calves.
The crickets were in full chorus again, and she thought she heard the bark of a zebra.
Callie had no idea where Finn was. She had heard the rustle of his clothing as he undressed, but after that nothing more. He’d gone Ninja on her, but she couldn’t open her eyes—not until he told her to.
‘Open your legs, Cal.’
Callie shivered as his voice caressed her skin, causing goosebumps up and down her arms. ‘Wider, honey. Yeah. So pretty. No, don’t open your eyes. Let me look at you.’
Callie sat on the edge of the tub, her eyes closed, feeling wild and free and as much a part of this savage place as the predators and the prey. Time slowed and the seconds ticked over sluggishly. She was content just to sit there and let her about-to-be lover look at her.
An owl screeched, a candle spluttered, and Callie yelped as hard hands pulled her knees further apart and a dark head appeared between her thighs. Then his mouth, hot, wild and experienced, dropped onto her sex and she bucked against him, her cries blending into the sounds of the night.
Callie gripped the sides of the tub as Finn pleasured her with his lips, his tongue, slid first one finger into her, then two. She arched her back as her orgasm built, desperate for Finn to push her over the edge. But just as she crested he pulled back, and she keened her disappointment. He allowed her to fall, just a little, before building her up again.
He repeated the torture until he lifted his head, looked her straight in the eye and, with his fingers still inside her, issued another order. ‘Come for me. Now.’
And Callie responded, just as he knew she would, instantly gushing over his hand, her inner muscles gripping his fingers and seeking all the pleasure he could give her. Finn kept his eyes locked on hers, thoroughly captivated by her uninhibited response.
When she finally stopped shaking he pulled his hand away and lifted his arm to grab her waist and pull her into the middle of the tub. She wound her legs around his hips and felt the divine friction as her clit rubbed against his penis, revving her up again. She rode him and felt vindicated, powerful, when his eyes crossed.
Taking him in her fist, she positioned him so that his tip was at her entrance. His bicep bulged with the effort of keeping from ramming himself inside her.
‘No condom,’ he muttered, his arms shaking.
‘I’m on the pill,’ she told him. ‘And I’m clean. I haven’t had sex for over six months and I had a medical three months ago. You?’
‘Same. Clean. Trust me?’
Callie didn’t bother to reply. She just slid onto him and smiled at his expression, which combined relief with pure, unadulterated pleasure.
‘God, you feel so good.’
Finn lifted a wet hand and pushed her hair back from her face. ‘You ready to go again?”
‘So ready.’
He lunged up and into her, his arms a vice around her waist. ‘Then hang on, baby.’
Callie managed to push herself away just enough to look into his eyes. She touched his mouth with the tips of her fingers. ‘Finn?’
‘Yeah?’
‘Come for me. Now.’
And, with a roar that was as wild as the bush around them, Finn did exactly as she commanded.
‘In the nineteenth century the local tribe in the area knew it as Mosi-oa-Tunya. Translated, that means the smoke that thunders.’
Callie stood gripped the railing in front of her and watched, utterly fascinated, as millions and millions of gallons of water thundered over the edge of the falls into a gorge over one hundred metres below them.
‘The Victoria Falls is known as the greatest curtain of falling water in the world,’ Finn told her, his face wet from the droplets of spray. ‘The spray can be seen from miles away at the height of the rainy season. Apparently more than five hundred million cubic metres of water per minute plummet over the edge, over a width of nearly two kilometres.’
‘Thank you, guidebook Finn,’ Callie said dryly.
Finn pushed his wet hair off his forehead. ‘It is an incredible sight, though, isn’t it?
‘It so is,’ Callie agreed.
Finn placed his forearms on the railing and lifted his head to squint up at her. ‘I wish we were here in winter,’ he said, with a pensive look on his face.
‘Why? Apart from the fact that it would be about a hundred degrees cooler than at the height of summer?’
Callie felt as if she was walking around in hot soup and she was melting from the inside out. Africa in late summer, early autumn, was still furnace-hot, she thought. And the towns of Livingstone and Victoria Falls, situated next to the massive river, had killer humidity as well. They were, she’d decided, minutes after landing in Livingstone, Zambia, three hours ago, after a chartered flight from the Baobab and Buffalo, standing above the devil’s boiler house.
‘Well, in winter, when the water levels are low, you can walk along the lip of the falls. There are rock pools there, and one is called the Devil’s Pool.’
That made sense, Callie thought. After stoking the fires of hell, Satan would want to cool down.
Then Finn’s words sank in and her eyes widened. ‘You can walk across….’ she waved at the massive falls behind her ‘… that?’
‘Well, there’d be a lot less water.’
‘That’s insane! People do this?’ Callie cried, her stomach clenching at the thought.
‘Sure. You walk across the rocks, swim through some pools, and then there’s this other pool, right at the lip of the falls. The rock lip stops you from going over.’
‘And you’d do that?’ Callie asked in a squeaky voice.
Finn shrugged. ‘Sure. It would be a kick.’
Callie closed her eyes. ‘That’s insane. It’s official: I’m sleeping with a mad man.’
Finn straightened and pushed a long wet strand of hair out of her eyes, tucked it behind her ear. ‘Talking of sleeping … This morning was so rushed we haven’t had a moment alone for me to ask—are you okay?’
Callie frowned. ‘Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?’
‘You said that it had been a while, and we did it a couple of times last night. You’re not sore or tired or—?’
Callie grinned, touched by his concern. She was a little stiff, a little uncomfortable, but she wasn’t about to admit that. ‘Finn, I’m twenty-eight—not a hundred and eight.’
‘Just checkin’.’ Finn rubbed his thumb over her cheekbone. ‘I had fun.’
Hoo-boy. So had she. ‘Me too.’
‘Want to do it again?’
Callie made sure that her tone was flippant, carefree. ‘Sure—since you’re marginally good at it.’
She put her tongue in her cheek to make sure that he knew that she was teasing.
In a flash Finn scooped her up into his arms and swung her towards the railing. ‘Can you swim?’ he asked, grinning down at her.
Callie wound her arms around his neck in a chokehold as she squealed hysterically. ‘Put
me down, you jerk!’
Finn swung her towards the railing again. ‘Tell me I’m the greatest you’ve ever had.’
‘The best ever!’ Callie shouted in his ear, tightening her arms. ‘I promise!’
Finn finally allowed her legs to drop to the ground, but Callie kept her arms around his neck, peeking out from over his arm. His hands were running up and down her spine.
‘You were pretty spectacular yourself, Cal.’
Callie dropped her head back to look into his face. His eyes looked warm and tender, and his mouth—that wonderful mouth—was heading towards hers. She allowed him one brush, two, then a quick taste of her tongue before pulling back and stepping away. Sleeping with him was one thing, but the banter, the teasing, the outright affection had to be curtailed—or at the very least controlled. Or else they’d forget that their fake relationship was … well, fake, and they’d end up in all sorts of emotional trouble.
‘I don’t want a relationship,’ she stated baldly.
He met her eyes. ‘Me neither.’
She wanted to tell him that she really didn’t. She couldn’t allow her feelings to be engaged, couldn’t hand her heart over and trust its well-being to the hands of another person. As a little girl she’d done that. Her mum had been her entire world and she’d left. Just left.
I can’t and won’t allow myself to break the habit of a lifetime and fall for you in any way, shape or form, she told him silently.
She made herself smile at him. ‘Just so that you know: I am going to use you and abuse you, then callously toss you aside at the end of three weeks.’ I’m going to treat you like just another short-term prospect … some bed-based fun, she added silently. And that means no digging into the past, sharing secrets or stories. It means being sensible and unemotional and playing it super-cool.
Finn nodded. ‘Use, abuse and toss away. Got it.’ The corners of his eyes crinkled with laughter. ‘You are the most honest woman I’ve ever met, angel.’
He’d called her that before, and it sounded so natural that she wondered if he even knew he was doing it. Short-term lovers shouldn’t have nicknames, but she didn’t have the guts to ask him to stop. She rather liked it.
Callie looked down the gorge to the river, to what looked like a tiny speck on the water. Her attention captivated, she leaned forward and immediately felt Finn’s hand on her elbow, placed there for protection. She would have to be an idiot to lean far enough over to lose her balance and go headfirst down into the gorge, but Finn’s protective instinct warmed her from the inside out.
Don’t go there, Hollis. Use, abuse, toss.
‘Is that a boat?’ Callie asked, pointing to the river so very far below them.
‘Yep. That’s one of the white-water rafting boats.’ Finn nodded. ‘I want to do that tomorrow. Want to come with me?’
Callie twisted her lips. ‘That would be a no.’
But there was a tug of excitement in her belly—a wish that she could say yes, that she could experience the thrill of riding those rapids. She hadn’t done anything to make her adrenalin pound since she was a teenager who’d loved pushing the envelope.
And she wouldn’t. She’d promised Seb and her dad. But, damn, she’d loved it.
‘Aw, come on!’ Finn placed a hand on her back to steer her down the path, away from their lookout point.
‘You have more chance of being impregnated by a member of the zombie apocalypse.’ She leaned her shoulder into his. ‘You’d better not die. I’ll be narked if my holiday and my recently revived sex life is interrupted by having to ship you home in a body bag.’
Finn grinned at her. ‘No worries. It’s safe.’
‘It’s madness!’ Callie hissed.
But it wasn’t—it really wasn’t. It looked fun and exciting and thrilling, and she hoped Finn loved every second of it.
She knew that she would. Damn, she could just do it and they wouldn’t even know. But she’d promised. And promises couldn’t be broken, she reminded herself.
CHAPTER EIGHT
CALLIE, IN A teeny bikini, sat on the deep step of the tepid hotel pool, a virgin mojito by her elbow and her face shielded from the early-afternoon sun by an enormous straw hat. Finn, dressed in a pair of board shorts and holding a beer in his hand, sat next to her, reading a travel magazine.
‘I should be working,’ he muttered as he flipped a page.
‘This is working,’ Callie assured him. ‘You’re researching the hotel’s facilities.’
Finn didn’t lift his eyes from the page. ‘I’ll go with that. Jeez, what a crock!’
Callie leaned into his shoulder. Judging by the mighty mountains in the photograph, she realised that he was reading an article about the Himalayas.
‘What’s the problem?’
Finn flicked the magazine with his thumb. ‘This journalist is writing about Durbar Square in Kathmandu and being factually incorrect—which annoys the hell out of me. If you’re going to write about a foreign place be respectful and get your damn facts straight!’
Callie’s lips twitched in amusement. ‘I’ll keep that in mind if I decide to make a career change.’
‘Smart-ass,’ Finn muttered, but she saw his quick smile before he refocused on the offending article.
Callie heard her mobile ring She reluctantly stood up and went to her lounger to answer it. It would be Rowan, or Seb, or her dad calling to check up on her. She could, she thought with a smile, only tell Rowan that she was having fabulous sex …
‘I’m fine … I’m happy … I haven’t done anything stupid yet,’ she said, her voice full of laughter.
‘Hello, Calista.’
Callie stiffened and her heart started to pound. She recognised that voice—it was the voice she heard in her dreams. Callie checked the unfamiliar number on her display. ‘Who is this?’ she demanded, although she had no doubt.
‘It’s your mother.’
Callie shook her head. ‘Funny, that—I don’t have a mother. She left while I was in hospital, getting X-rays for my broken arm and cracked ribs.’
‘You always were a challenging child.’
Like you’d know. ‘Says the woman who sneaked out through the door and didn’t come back.’
‘I’m back now.’
‘Twenty-plus years too late and I don’t care. Who gave you my number? Seb?’
Silence answered that question. ‘Tell him he sucks. Don’t call me again, Laura, we have nothing to say to each other.’
‘Calista—’
Callie pushed the button to disconnect the call and bit down on her lip, concentrating on that pain in an attempt to ignore the throbbing clenching of her heart. Laura sounded exactly the same: her voice low and melodious. She had a beautiful voice, Callie remembered. She’d loved to hear her sing.
God, she couldn’t think about her—couldn’t start to remember. She didn’t want to remember—didn’t want to open that Pandora’s box. She’d always sung when she was happy … which hadn’t been that often.
One phone call and a host of memories flooded back—her laughter, her scent. Callie banded her arms across her stomach, trying to keep the pain at bay. She didn’t want to remember, to start thinking about her, about everything she’d lost …
She needed something to distract her—something to make her forget. Callie threw her mobile back into her tote bag and looked to Finn. He would make her forget. One touch of his hands on her skin and she would be taken away to a place where no thought was necessary. A place of pleasure and delight …
Callie dived into the pool and surfaced by the step. She tugged on Finn’s big toe and when he looked at her lowered her eyelids in a gesture that she hoped was sexy and alluring. ‘Want to go back to the cabana and play?’ she asked.
Finn pulled his glasses off his face and folded them carefully. He looked at her for a full minute before asking, ‘Who called you, Cal?’
Callie pulled in her top lip and shrugged. ‘No one important.’ Her hand slid up his leg and gr
ipped his knee. ‘Let’s go and fool around.’
‘Nope.’
Callie’s mouth fell open in astonishment. The man hadn’t been able to keep his hands off her last night and some of this morning and now he was saying no? When she most needed him?
‘Excuse me?’
Finn held her eyes, his expression inscrutable. ‘As tempting as that offer is … no, we’re not going back to the room to fool around.’
‘Why not?’ Callie demanded, finding her feet in the pool.
‘Tell me who was on the phone, Cal.’
She didn’t want to discuss her mother—that was the point! She didn’t want to go there. Didn’t want to revisit her bad childhood and her mother issues.
Suddenly she craved the rush of adrenalin, the freedom of doing something extreme, something to get her out of herself. She wanted to be Wild Callie, Free Callie. So if she couldn’t have sex in the middle of the day with her fake husband then she’d do something else to get her adrenalin pumping, to distract her.
A part of her knew that she was lapsing back into old childhood habits—as a child and teenager she’d tried every daredevil stunt she could, either to attract attention or to distract herself from her mother-free life. But, God knew, after hearing her mother’s voice for the first time in over twenty years, she more than needed a distraction.
Patch and Seb would understand why she had to break her promise.
‘Fine.’ Callie tossed her head and glared at Finn. ‘Then I’m going back to the room, getting dressed, and then I am going to go and bungee jump.’
‘Yeah? No. You’re not.’
Now he was presuming to tell her what to do? She didn’t think so!
‘Since I am an adult, and since I am not asking you to pay for it, how do you think you’re going to stop me?’
Finn drained the rest of his beer and placed the empty bottle on the side of the pool. He folded his arms and she wished she could crawl into them, rest her head on his chest and allow the tears that she was holding back to slide down her face. But that was impossible. Because Callie Hollis was a tough party-girl. She didn’t cry.