Caspar held the compass against the map and turned. “Okay, this way. We’re heading for those rocks.”
They set off at a jog, and Ally’s mind wandered to the previous night. Hand job, blowjob, him on top, her on top, doggie style, legs up, legs down and the kissing. Oh God, the kissing.
By the time they reached the crag, Ally had worked herself into such a state of arousal she could barely breathe. The rub of her panties against her wet folds was driving her mad. When Caspar took off his rucksack and bent to pick up the second orange flag, Ally jumped on his back.
He laughed and grabbed her legs. “If you think I’m going to carry you, think again.”
“Is there nothing I could do to persuade you?” She swirled her tongue around his ear.
Caspar groaned. “Possibly.”
Ally slid from his back, stood in front of him and rubbed his cock through his pants.
“Probably,” he said, his eyes darkening.
She squeezed.
“Definitely,” he amended.
Chapter Fourteen
Caspar’s eyes fluttered shut as Ally played with his cock through his pants. He ought to stop her.
“Fuck me,” she whispered, and he let out a choked laugh.
He took hold of her naughty-but-nice hand and pulled her closer to the rocks. “Seems my willpower is as pathetic as yours.”
Caspar pressed her back against a flat surface and slipped his hands into the front of her pants. Damp. A shiver of excitement raced down his spine.
“I wish we were in London, standing in some dark cul-de-sac,” Ally whispered.
Caspar landed whisper kisses around her jaw. “Why?”
“So someone might see us.”
His breath caught. He flipped open the button on her pants and pulled down the zip. “You like the idea of being watched?”
“I like the idea of shocking someone.”
“I think you’ve freaked out the sheep.”
Ally sniggered. Caspar stepped back and unfastened his pants. He eased out his cock and drew his fist up his length, pulling his foreskin back over the crown.
“Oh God, I love watching you do that,” she whispered. “Turn round and see if the sheep feel the same.”
“I don’t think so.” Caspar pinched the skin over the head of his cock with his thumb and forefinger and worked the top couple of inches, rubbing and twisting, while his other hand squeezed around his base and pressed down on his balls. Shivers raced up and down his spine.
“Take your pants off,” he growled. “Tie that fleece around your waist.”
Ally stared into his eyes as she toed off her shoes then yanked down her pants and panties together. The fleece in place to protect her backside, she leaned against the rock.
“Spread your legs,” Caspar said. When she’d done as he’d asked, he swallowed hard. Oh God. The fact that she’d responded to his command ratcheted up the pressure in his balls. “Now hold yourself open for me.”
She made a little noise in her throat—reluctance? excitement?—and then pulled her folds apart. Caspar’s breathing quickened and he tightened his grip at the root of his cock. He could see her clit poking out of its hood, and he dropped to his knees and licked it.
Ally gasped and shuddered against him. The taste of her, the smell of her made Caspar’s head swim. He explored her with his tongue, relearning the dips and hills of her sex, licking the length of her, sucking her clit into his mouth. Ally’s hands were on his shoulders, fingers digging through his fleece as she panted and groaned.
Caspar worked the sensitive knot of tissue, rhythmically, pressing against it with the tip of his tongue, and he felt her tense.
“Cas…par,” she wailed.
He pulled back. He didn’t want her to come too soon. Ally opened her eyes and looked down at him, her face a mix of need and desire. “Please.”
Caspar dragged his hand through her cream and brought it to his lips. When he sucked each finger in turn, Ally whimpered.
“You taste delicious,” he said, and buried his face between her legs.
With renewed pressure on her clit, Caspar felt her on the rise again. He pressed the little nub between his tongue and teeth, and she jerked. Caspar let his cock go and grabbed her hips to hold her steady.
“Oh fuck,” Ally moaned.
Her thighs tightened around his ears as she started to quiver. She came on his tongue, her cream flowing like nectar, and Caspar drank and drank.
His balls tingling, Caspar stood and took her in a single thrust, burying his cock deep inside her. He pressed her back against the rock as Ally wrapped her legs around him. Too desperate to wait, he pounded into her, his hands tight on her hips to hold her still while he moved. He drove harder, faster, deeper while the noise of them fucking sounded loud in his ears. Ally’s breathy cries, his grunts, the wet sound of his cock sinking into her pussy, it all wound him tighter.
“Yes…yes…yes,” Ally gasped the words as he rammed into her.
The ache in his balls was intense enough to hurt. Jolts of current raced along his nerves. Her hands caught his face and held him, and Caspar breathed her name over and over, “Ally, Ally, Ally.”
She lifted her hips somehow, the angle of penetration changed, and his cock jumped. He’d been deep, now he was deeper, and every bang of his root against her pussy pulled another thread out of the fraying mental rope that held him.
Out in the middle of the moors, cold air on his backside, for all he knew an audience of hikers standing feet away, and Caspar didn’t give a fuck. His breathing quickened as orgasm built, raising him higher and higher so he knew the fall would be sweeter. He felt Ally come again, her pussy clenching around him and she quivered but still thrust against him.
The rope that held him snapped.
“Fuck, fuck,” Caspar gasped.
He sprayed his cum inside her as he collapsed against her, his mouth seeking hers, his tongue kissing hers as his hips twitched and his balls emptied.
“You…are…fucking…fantastic,” he muttered into her neck.
When he could breathe again, Caspar eased her legs down and pulled out of her. He pulled up his pants and fastened himself up.
Ally groaned as she bent to get her clothes. “Now I need a Mars bar. You should have made me save one.”
When they were decent again, Caspar tugged her back to the rucksack. One hand inside and he groaned. Shit. He pulled out the soggy sheet of instructions and equally soggy map. When Caspar tipped up the backpack, water dripped out. Fuck. He should have put the papers in a plastic bag.
“Oh no. Didn’t I screw the top on properly?” Ally asked.
“There’s a crack in the bottle. Want to drink the rest before it trickles out?”
She took a swig and handed it back. Caspar finished it.
“The ink’s smudged on the paper and the map’s falling apart.” Caspar sighed. “I can’t read the instructions. We’ll have to go back.”
“Could we contact Neil and ask him where to go?”
“Do you know his number?”
Ally shook her head. “What about the pager?”
“One way. It’s just to tell us where to go when Neil has his accident.”
“So we’ve fucked up. Shit.” Ally stamped her foot.
“It doesn’t matter, Ally.” No one would be surprised when he failed. It was what the world expected.
“Yes, it does. I wanted…” She huffed. “Come on then. We might as well go back.”
Caspar took out the compass and pointed. “This way.”
Ally’s shoulders and head stayed down as they walked. Was winning so important to her? Caspar was competitive, but four years in an Albanian penal institution had taught him what was really important in life, and sometimes it was safer to lose.
“Would you come and have dinner with my parents on Wednesday?” he blurted.
She gave a shocked glance. “You want me to meet your mum and dad?”
“That’s the general idea.”
She smiled at him. “That would be lovely.”
No, it wouldn’t. Caspar wondered why he’d invited her. To deflect attention from his shortcomings? To please his mother? To prove to his father he wasn’t a complete waste of space? To show them Ally was special?
“I wish…” Ally’s voice trailed away.
“What?”
“That you could have met my mum and dad. I wish they’d been mine from birth, but I feel lucky I had them as long as I did.”
“Ever tempted to trace your birth mother?”
Ally scowled. “No. She was the one who broke off contact. She could have found me if she’d wanted.”
“She might be able to tell you the name of your birth father.”
“I don’t care.”
“He might though.”
She shot him a quick glance as though the thought hadn’t occurred to her before. “Maybe. For all I know he’s some fabulously wealthy guy who’s been desperate to trace me. Or some layabout who wants to sponge off me.” She frowned. “What’s that noise?”
Caspar pulled the pager out of his pocket. “That’s weird. I thought Neil said the exercise would start after one thirty.”
“Where is he?”
Caspar took out the map and checked the coordinates. “Not that far. About a mile. On the only dry part of the map.” He gave a wry grin.
Ally’s face lit up. “Hey, it won’t matter about us not collecting the other flags will it? This is what we have to respond to. Let’s run.”
Caspar began to jog. “Why would Neil cut short the day?”
“Well, if he planned to use a helicopter rescue, maybe they’re the ones who’ve caused him to reschedule. A call out somewhere else?”
“Or Tom is sending us miles in the wrong direction.” Except they were heading back toward Wyndale.
Caspar kept adjusting their course according to the terrain and the bearing, and they ran on.
“That’s Neil’s red jacket.” Ally pointed to the foot of a small crag, a few hundred yards to the right. “Ooh we’re first. That has to impress him. Keen and fast and you know left from right.” She grinned.
She’s doing this for me. In a moment of clarity, Caspar realized how much Ally wanted to make the others accept him and his heart swelled with…something he didn’t want to give a name. He wasn’t used to people being on his side. He’d spent so long feeling isolated he’d forgotten the pleasure of having a friend. More than a friend.
Except maybe it was a guy thing, but getting back first was not going to endear him to the rest of the team.
“Hi Neil,” Ally yelled, and waved her arms.
Caspar rolled his eyes. “He won’t respond. He’s pretending to be injured.”
They sprinted the last few hundred yards. Neil lay on his stomach, his head to one side, eyes closed, pager clutched in his hand at the edge of a steep ravine.
“Don’t touch him,” Caspar said, panting heavily. “We have to assess his condition.”
“Okay.”
“Can you hear me?” Caspar asked. “Open your eyes.”
“Help.”
The frail voice came from somewhere below them. Caspar leaned over and groaned. “Shit.” Neil’s wife, Mary, lay on a rock slab, blood all over her face. Caspar hadn’t expected there to be two casualties to deal with. Still he supposed it was a fair test in prioritizing. Christ, that blood looks real.
“Hang on, Mary,” Caspar called.
“Oh God, Neil’s really white,” Ally muttered. His eyelids fluttered and she squeezed his hand. “And cold. Caspar, I think—”
“Where does it hurt?” Caspar asked.
“Chest,” Neil whispered.
Ally let out a quiet whimper. “Caspar, don’t you think—?”
“Did you fall?” Caspar asked.
“No. Pain. Arm. Chest. Can’t breathe. Real. Not pretending.”
And Caspar finally accepted what Ally had been trying to tell him. This wasn’t an exercise. Shit. Heart attack. Adrenaline surged. “Ally, get the first-aid box out of my rucksack.”
He’d been expecting a fake situation and had stupidly assumed that’s what this was. Praying for no spinal injury, Caspar shifted Neil onto his back and loosened his clothing at the neck and waist. Then he yanked his own fleece off and laid it flat under Neil’s head. “Are you allergic to aspirin?”
“No,” Neil gasped.
“Ally, is there any water left in that bottle?”
“Tiny bit.” She handed it to him.
“It’s enough. Neil, mate, you’re going to be fine. I’ll crush an aspirin and put it in your mouth.” Caspar glanced up at Ally. “Use my phone. If there’s a signal, call 9-9-9. Get our location off my pager.” Caspar smeared the aspirin and water mix on his finger and then put it in Neil’s mouth. “This is going to help. Just stay calm.”
Ally groaned and said, “No signal.”
Fuck. Caspar was desperate for Neil to wink and tell him this was all an act.
“Mary?” Neil muttered.
“She’s okay. I’ll go and look at her in a minute.”
Caspar stood and pulled Ally to one side.
“You have to go for help, Ally. The mobile reception is crap up here but there are pockets where you can get a signal. Tyburn Crag is due north. That direction. Take the compass. If you don’t get a signal on the way, you’ll definitely get one there. Tell them it’s a suspected heart attack and the other casualty has undiagnosed climbing injuries.”
“Wouldn’t you be faster?” she whispered.
“I’m more use here.”
She nodded and ran.
Please let her be okay.
Caspar turned back to Neil. Sweat had beaded on his forehead and he was panting.
“Stay with me, Neil.”
Caspar had taken a course in CPR but he’d never done it for real. Should he have run instead of Ally? He’d have been quicker, but if Neil went into full-blown cardiac arrest, would she have known what to do?
“Mary, are you okay? What are your injuries?” he called.
“Banged my head. Hurt my ankle. Neil was coming to get me and then he cried out. What’s happened?”
“Try not to worry. Keep still. Ally’s gone to get help.”
Neil’s breathing became even more labored. Caspar held his wrist, his fingers on an erratic pulse.
“Neil, hang in there. Help’s on the way.” Almost.
When Neil’s lips went blue, Caspar knew they were in trouble. He could see Ally in the distance, still running. Neil’s left fist clenched, his body tensed, jerked and he stopped breathing. Caspar didn’t hesitate. He placed the heel of his hand in the center of Neil’s chest, put his other hand on top and interlocked his fingers. With his arms straight and fingers turned up, he pressed down and then released and began to count.
“Caspar, what’s wrong with Neil?” Mary shouted.
“Doing CPR.”
Mary cried out. “No, no. Don’t let him die. Thirty compressions. Two breaths.”
“I know. Sssh.”
After thirty compressions, he stopped, tipped Neil’s head back, pinched his nose and blew into his mouth until his chest rose. Caspar lifted his head, waited for the chest to fall and repeated the action. Then went back to the chest compressions.
Christ, I have this right, don’t I? Caspar began talking to Neil as he pressed on his chest.
“I am going to be so pissed off if this was a way to get me to kiss you.” Five. “You could have just asked. I’d have said no.” Ten. “You’re not allowed to die, Neil. I’ve been blamed for enough, don’t you think?” Twenty. “Christ, if you cop it, they’ll lynch me.” Twenty-five. “Breathe, for fuck’s sake, you bastard.” Thirty.
Back to breathing into Neil’s mouth. Back to the compressions.
Caspar kept going, kept talking, didn’t stop.
He had no idea how long passed before he saw feet next to Neil’s head.
“What the fuck’s going on?” Tom snapped. “It�
��s dangerous to do CPR on someone who doesn’t need it.”
Caspar lifted his mouth from Neil’s and pressed on his chest. “He’s had a heart attack.” Five. “Ally’s gone to call 9-9-9. Wouldn’t hurt to send someone else.” Ten. “Mary’s down there.”
Tom and Mike looked over the edge. “Oh Christ. Don’t worry, Mary. We’ll have you up in a jiffy.”
“Help me get rigged up. Hurry,” Mike said.
“Make sure you check her for spinal injuries.” Tom took rope out of his rucksack, and out of the corner of his eye, Caspar watched them prepare to lower Mike to the shelf where Mary lay.
When the whop-whop-whop sound of a helicopter grew louder and louder, Caspar groaned with relief.
He kept going until the paramedics crouched beside him.
“Good work. We have him now,” one said.
“I gave him an aspirin,” Caspar said.
He moved away and sat on a rock. It seemed only seconds before they had Neil and Mary in the helicopter and it was taking off. Caspar’s hair whipped over his face in the downdraught and he watched the craft wheel away into the sky before he slumped on his back.
His fleece landed on his head. Caspar pulled it off and looked up.
“Put it on before you get chilled,” Tom said.
“How was he?”
Tom’s jaw twitched. “They shocked him. His heart’s beating on its own.”
They both knew that didn’t mean Neil would survive.
“Well done, Caspar,” Mike said. “We couldn’t figure out what Neil was doing when the message came.”
“What’s happened?” asked Bill as he came up beside them. “We saw the helicopter.”
While Tom explained, Caspar gathered his things and slung the rucksack over his shoulder. He looked in the direction he’d sent Ally and hoped to hell she was all right and hadn’t found some big hole to fall down.
Caspar fidgeted while Tom messed around, organizing everyone. All Caspar wanted to do was set off after Ally.
“You get that, Caspar?” Tom asked.
“Sorry.”
“Bill and Viv will stay here until the last pair arrives. The rest of us will go back.”
“Fine.” Caspar set off at a jog.
His anxiety grew by the second. He hadn’t shown her how to use the compass. He’d given it to her and told her to head north, but this was a woman who got right and left muddled up. Caspar’s heart pounded. Ally was probably fine, but he couldn’t stop himself going through every worst-case scenario.
Kiss a Falling Star Page 16